presecutor-userboxes

[butnobodycame627]

why didn't peridot stay disabled… it would've added to their whole message of being different being okay and diversity and…. sigh….

[avephelis]

RISE TWITTER QNA! no major news or announcements, but here's a list of new information and confirmations:

S3 could be brought back as a retro show in the future, but it probably wouldn't happen anytime soon (focus is on mutant mayhem at the moment)

it was never decided whether capril would be friends or girlfriends (due to rise's focus on platonic relationships)

council of heads! they're in power, but a lot of influential yokai (like big mama) aren't easily controlled, and "game the system"

despite not having his dual katana, supposedly f!leo DOES still have mystic powers

ron corcillo would love to see a spin-off focused on the caseys (if rise were ever continued), and likes the potential of a raph + casey vigilante duo

the turtles got their names after splinter's love for renaissance art

big mama's henchman WAS planned to be the missing sister, and rather than venus de milo, she would've been named after a female artist (possibly frida kahlo)

for halloween: raph dressed up as a kitten, mikey as a lion, leo as a rockstar, and donnie as j. robert oppenheimer

the mystic weapons stolen from draxum acted as a conduit to help the boys unlock their innate mystic powers with a "little boost"

they didn't realise mayhem's potential as a character/force until too late, but it could've been fun to do some stories of him being an operative (a la perry the platypus)

there weren't any planned stories for side villains (aside from the foot's cupcake shop), most focus was on the turtles

not much on casey jr's backstory, just that cass and the turtles were fighting the krang and leo raised him as a warrior. casey jr only has brief memories of cass from when he was very young, and was mostly raised by leo

there were definitely six baby turtles (two sisters)! and the turtles were gonna split up to rescue the one with big mama and the one in "the dimension", but they never planned much of it out

there's most likely a time gap between the rescuing leo and the ending scene of the movie, as "after a fight like that, [everyone] would definitely crash and need some recovery time"

there would've been more big mama in future episodes, and stinkbomb was planned to return

since the turtles became known to the public at the end of the movie, they'd have to fight to retain their reputation. this and their reception to criticism/backlash would've become a major arc.

on brother rankings: mikey is definitely raph's favourite, and they all look up to raph

the stronger someone's ninpo is, the greater the drain on their energy is (as seen with f!mikey and karai)

there wouldn't be much threat on villains going after casey jr's future intel, because most of it would've been rendered obsolete

nickelodeon would never give up the rights to rise, but they could license it to a partner company (such as IDW for a comic!)

as previously mentioned, the 2nd sister would've been trapped in "another dimension" and venus/frida would have to be won over by "helping her see that she had been brainwashed [by big mama] as a child" (and redeemed)

given more time, the show would've fleshed out: the hamato story, the hidden city's origins (krang spaceship that crashed into the crying titan being the source of the ooze, its fuel being what gave the yokai mystic powers), and would've used the rat king (who ron corcillo would've liked to be a powerful yokai with rat-like abilities and some form of mind control, who could've threatened the council of heads for power in the hidden city)

as far as we know, the turtles (aside from leo's spanish) only speak english (and even their english is sometimes a bit off)

rise probably wouldn't have ever "gone dark", but after the turtles were publicly known and full-time heroes, it might've had more of an extended plotline

the turtle's casual clothes somewhat reflect their music tastes (r&b for raph, glam rock for leo, techno (and 80s) for donnie and boy band for mikey)

future heights: mikey grew a bit and then shrunk under mystic strain, leo was at least 6ft, donnie a little taller than leo, and raph at least 6'6

mikey's powers could get pretty intense, which could've resulted in some multiverse episodes (ron corcillo would be most inclined to do a 12 crossover, but any could work). while leo portals short distances, mikey's cross space and time (with great effort)

given more time, how the turtles met april would've been fleshed out

in terms of how they take after splinter: donnie and leo have a lot of his cockiness, raph his courage and sense of duty, and mikey senses him missing his family (which is part of the reason of why he tries to hold everyone together)

given more time they would've done more with the transfer of leadership from raph to leo (and originally the plan was to draw that out over S3, rather than the abrupt S2 ending). they would've been co-leaders for a while, and at times mikey or donnie would lead (they aren't really a group with just one leader archetype)

there were plans for april to have more time with the specific turtles other than donnie (like how the gumbus was focused on her mikey and leo)

the cast's mystic abilities would've increased over time, and splinter has a lot of power that hasn't been revealed (as he spent a lot of time in the hidden city in his past)

venus/frida would've been very disciplined and so serious that's she's funny, and the dimension sister would've been "a little kooky"

there weren't really any plans on how the turtles would look in cloaked human forms, just that they'd resemble lou jitsu and may be inspired by their VAs

mikey is the only brother who can fully pull all his limbs and head into his shell (being a box turtle)

any usagi appearances would be a rights matter, and depend on collaboration

on timelines: april is 16 at the start of the series and 18 in the movie, but exactly how much time passes isn't confirmed

ron corcillo would've liked to do more donnie + raph episodes, like one where despite how donnie considers himself smarter, raph ends up beating him in common sense and emotional intelligence

f!leo didn't go with casey jr to the past due to being mortally wounded in his bleeding side

given more time there would've been more flashback episodes with the turtles at various ages

though he'd never admit it, hueso has a close relationship with leo

in early S3 there would've been an episode of setting up the new lair

mystic warrior f!mikey is pretty old (maybe in his 70s), and is strong enough to use basically any mystic power, but at great cost to him physically

no major plans with bishop, but once the turtles became more well-known he could be a bit of a thorn in their sides (like j. jonah jameson to spiderman)

there might've been some redemption from big mama, but also some relapses into her "villainous ways"

given a full season, karai would've been alive for longer, and would've trained the boys for a number of episodes

confirmation that some of early s1 aired in the wrong order (which the writers weren't happy about)

in rise, there's always an unpredictability as to how sentient a mutant will turn out to be

raph probably wouldn't be super uptight about swearing, provided the boys weren't offending anyone

there weren't any plans for romantic relationships (and DEFINITELY never an april-turtles love interest), but if they had ever tried something eventually it would've been with the same species

there were no specific plans for alopex, rita, or rennet, but anything's a possibility

in terms of the 1000 years ago krang/mystic timeline, the spaceship crashed first (possibly spawning the yokai), and other krang followed it, drawing in the invasion

that seems to be about it but if there's any more i'll do a reblog with additions

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ghost Whisperer || CL16

AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.

Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.

Warnings: mentions of death

Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.

“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Nevermind.”

“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”

You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.

“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”

You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.

Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.

“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”

You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”

You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”

She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”

“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.

“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”

“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.

“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.

“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”

You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”

“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”

You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”

You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”

The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.

You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”

“Goodbye.”

“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.

An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.

“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.

By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”

Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”

“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”

Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.

–

The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.

His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.

“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”

You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”

Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.

“Bring it home, underdog.”

Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”

You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”

His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”

You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”

An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”

“Jules says you look good.”

“I said strong.”

“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”

Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”

You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”

“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”

Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.

“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”

Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”

“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”

“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.

“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.

“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”

—

The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?

Slowly the questions became more personal.

“Do you do this for work?”

“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”

“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”

“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”

You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.

“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”

Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”

“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”

Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”

You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.

“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.

Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime but…”

You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”

You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”

“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”

“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”

“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”

[reiderwriter]

For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!

A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️

Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 

After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 

At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 

So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 

Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 

Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 

The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 

“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 

“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 

You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 

Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 

If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 

“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 

You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 

You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 

But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 

“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”

Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 

He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 

“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 

His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 

“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 

“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 

“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.

“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 

“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 

You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 

Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 

“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”

“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 

“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 

“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 

“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 

Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 

It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 

He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 

He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 

And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 

He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 

He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 

“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 

“Mom!” 

“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 

It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 

The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 

“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 

“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 

“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 

“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”

“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 

Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 

“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 

He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 

“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 

He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 

“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 

“Yes.” 

“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 

“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 

“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.

He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 

“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 

“You're serious?” 

“I guess…. I guess I am.”

“And you're… you're single.” 

Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 

“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”

“Neither do FBI agents.” 

“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 

“Definitely.” 

[yumeka-sxf]

My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 1

I finished reading through my copy of the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY." There's tons of fantastic information about the series, but I wanted to share my thoughts/commentary on parts that were the most interesting to me. Since there's so much content to cover, I'll be dividing it into a few different posts. Also, rather than go in the order of the book's sections, I decided to group the content based on topic. This first post will cover Endo's comments about the characters individually, as well as information about Garden.

Endo's Q&As and comments about the characters

Loid:

I like that Endo provides a reason for why Loid wears a WISE logo pin as it's something more than one fan of the series has questioned! And I totally agree with Lin about his "lack of distinctive features." Compared to so many other anime characters, especially shonen main characters, Loid's design is so plain, particularly in his hair and clothes. At least in his spy outfit he has a gun to make him a little flashier, but when he's in his casual clothes, he literally just looks like "some guy," haha. But that also makes sense for his character.

I love how Endo gave specific numbers for comparing Loid and Yor's strength (Yor: 10, Loid: 6-7)

Anya:

I did notice what Endo is talking about how Anya's design changed over time. But that can be said for all the characters really, and it's definitely not uncommon for manga-ka's styles to evolve as they get a better feel for their characters and world.

He mentions the classical language thing that was also brought up in chapter 42. Definitely makes me think that will somehow tie into her backstory.

Speaking of Anya's backstory, there was this little excerpt about the researchers at the lab. So one thing we can say for sure about her past is that she was not treated well there at all (which has been hinted at in the series).

Endo also discussed the origin of Anya's pink hair (namely, there really isn't any origin, lol).

Yor:

Interesting that he spent the most time designing Yor, and also about the origin of her stilettoes. And his apology to the cosplayers for that bonus feature about Yor's hair, haha.

I had to chuckle when he said they can't measure her strength because she keeps breaking the instruments! Also the fact that she hasn't learned how to make a single successful meal since the stew…Endo is such a savage sometimes, lol. But keep in mind that this book was originally published over a year ago, and obviously we know from recent chapters that her cooking is improving. I also like that he mentions that she has left witnesses to her work, like in Extra Mission 2. I wonder if that will be a bigger plot point somewhere down the line.

Like Anya having pink hair, Endo expresses some regret about making Yor an assassin (but his laugh makes it clear he's not terribly hung up about it!)

Bond:

I know some people are bothered by the fact that Yor is Bond's least favorite. But I think Bond's (initial) dislike for her originated from the chapter where he assumes he would have died from her cooking. Also the fact that Anya put the idea in his head that she would "murder" him if he did something she didn't like, like shun her food (which is obviously heavily exaggerated). But again, this book was published over a year ago, and the most recent chapter revealed that he definitely doesn't dislike her even if she's not his favorite. It's perfectly normal for pets to have family members they prefer over others for whatever reason.

Franky:

I love that Franky does charity work. I hope we'll see that in a future chapter.

Fiona:

It's interesting that he ranks Fiona's combat ability so low, especially when you consider what she did to Wheeler in the recent arc. But to me, that wasn't so much a display of combat prowess as it was totally raw, uninhibited willpower.

Yuri:

I love his blunt answer about whether Yuri has other interests besides Yor. Also intriguing that he mentions Nightfall when discussing Yuri's combat ability…maybe those two will meet eventually?

Information about Garden

Since Garden is still such a mysterious entity in the SxF universe, I tried to gather everything about them that the book mentions.

It's interesting that Yor sees Shopkeeper as her mentor since he taught her survival skills in her youth. The book also raises the question about how Yor found Garden in the first place…maybe something Endo will expand on in the future?

So the information Franky gives us about Garden is exaggerated? Gah, that just makes them even more mysterious!

The above was a cool bit of trivia...so it seems like the secret police might know more about Garden than WISE. Perhaps Yuri will find out about Yor's real identity before Twilight?

Continue to Part 2 ->

[magics-neptunes-things]

I Don't Bite (Woso Prompt)

11. I don't bite. I mean, not unless someone asks me.

I have to admit I first read it with Leah’s voice in my head.

TW : Alcohol

______________________________________________________________

You’ve only been at Arsenal for a few months, but your integration went well. The fact that you speak good English and know Viv and Victoria well from your national team probably helped a lot. You’re pretty close to the others too, but you have to admit that if there’s one player you’re less close to, it’s Leah Williamson.

Because the very moment you first saw her, you developed the dumbest biggest crush on her.

You blush when she talks to you, you can’t help but look at her everytime you have the chance and you find yourself regularly browsing through her Instagram hidden in your bed. You have the perfect impression of being a teenage fool and you suspect that you are ridiculous in Leah’s eyes.

Tonight, you’re all out celebrating Amanda’s birthday, and maybe the alcohol was consumed a little too much. You’re not the type to drink too much, but Leah's here and you have to find a way not to drool in front of her. She's incredible and you swallowed your drink wrong when she arrived with Lia. It amused Kyra very much beside you who gave you blows in the back to prevent you from choking.

This is the only time you’ve ever cross eyes with Leah. Around 3:00 in the morning, you decide it’s time for you to go home. Some of your teammates are already gone and the others are a little scattered throughout the establishment. After saying goodbye to those who were with you at the table, you get your things and go out.

It’s been many minutes since you lost Leah’s eyes, but you didn’t expect to face her as you walked through the door.

"Where are you going?" asks the blonde, frowning.

"I... Uh… Home. See you tomorrow" you mumble.

You rush past her but you are surprised when you feel Leah’s hand grabbing your biceps to turn you in her direction.

"Are you walking home?"

"Yes? I don’t live far"

"It’s three in the morning, you never read news?"

You look at her without understanding, as she rolls her eyes. And Lord have a mercy, this dress is doing things to you.

"I’m taking you home, I don’t want to risk finding you slit in an alley. I didn’t drink anything tonight."

Her tone leaves no room for compromise, but you find yourself trying to contradict her.

"Leah, I swear I’ll be fine."

"Please. I don’t bite. I mean, not unless someone asks me"

She answers you on the cocky tone that characterizes her and you have the impression that you will catch fire on the spot when her gaze plunges into yours.

Leah takes your stutter for an acceptance and takes you with her to her car parked a little further. Your heart rate is way too high for a simple car ride. The silence that reigns during the journey doesn't seem to bother Leah who sings the different musics that pass on the radio, following to the different indications that you give her.

When you get to your home, Leah turns off the engine and looks at you for a few seconds. While you were about to open your mouth to thank her, she got ahead of you by speaking first.

"I see you, you know?"

"I don’t understand" you answer after a few seconds of silence.

"I see you looking at me. Blush whenever I talk to you or look at you."

If someone could give you the ability to turn into a mouse and run away from that car forever, you would. She talking about blushing, you’re probably turned into a tomato.

"I- I’m sorry" you whisper staring straight ahead.

"Don’t be. I think it’s pretty cute"

This has the merit of surprising you enough that you turn your eyes in her direction. The surprise must be on your face since Leah laughs softly while leaning in your direction.

"Actually I think you are very cute"

Are you dreaming or have you passed a portal for a parallel dimension without realizing it? You look at Leah carefully and you find yourself again immersed in her blue eyes.

"I look at you too, you know" she whispers as she looks at you, laying a hand on your cheek.

You’re too shocked to realize it, but Leah is just as hypnotized by you as you are by her. You see her gaze sliding from your eyes to your lips and you also approach your face from hers when she leans in your direction.

Her lips get on yours and you feel your brain freeze. The feeling is even more pleasant than you could imagine in your hours of perdition. Her kiss is soft but also so sensual it makes your head spin.

Her thumb caresses your cheek and goes down to your jaw and then your neck to hold your face against hers. She add her tongue in the kiss when you whisper and you have to hold you back from jumping over the shifter and sitting on her.

"Maybe I’ll want to bite you after all" Leah said maliciously against your lips when you have to take your breath again.

[copper-16]

You Didn't Let Me Finish

Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.

Usually.

Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?

(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)

Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 

The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 

And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 

Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 

The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 

Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 

It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 

But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 

It’s just, nobody had. 

But perhaps that would change. 

—

It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 

“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 

Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 

“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 

Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 

“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 

“Oh and–”

“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 

Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 

“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 

“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 

“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 

“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 

By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 

Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 

The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 

The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 

The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  

She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 

“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 

“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 

“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  

“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   

Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 

“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 

“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 

The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 

“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 

“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 

“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 

The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 

As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 

But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 

And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 

The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 

Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 

And god was Misa wrong. 

This woman wasn’t attractive. 

She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 

The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 

She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 

“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 

If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 

She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 

“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 

“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 

“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 

It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 

“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 

The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 

“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 

“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 

“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 

The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 

“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 

“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 

“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 

“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 

The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 

She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 

The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 

It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 

The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 

She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 

The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 

Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 

Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 

The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 

The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 

The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 

And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 

This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 

“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 

They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 

It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 

Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 

The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 

Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 

“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 

“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 

Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 

“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.

Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 

It was her choice. 

Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 

“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 

“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 

“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 

But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 

They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 

It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 

Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 

It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 

The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 

The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 

She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 

“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 

The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 

She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 

Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 

Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 

“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 

“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 

Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 

She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 

She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 

“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 

“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 

Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 

“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 

Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 

“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 

The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.

Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 

Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 

“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 

Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 

To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 

Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 

She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 

The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 

“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 

“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 

“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 

Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 

“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 

The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 

Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.

She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 

“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 

The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 

“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 

It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 

Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 

It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 

The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 

Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 

When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 

“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 

Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 

So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Arvin and kieran meeting a shy but sweet new girl with this team.

Tapu koko who through some magical shenanigans can't be more then a mile away from the girl with out falling incredibly ill.

A motherly salazle who has a charm that allows her to talk English

A blood moon ursaluna who's the girls main body guard and hes very protective

And a female iron valiant who acts like a big sister. Who threatens anyone that if they hurt the girl she'll cut them down

Gotta say I appreciate the addition of Blood Moon Ursa. Officially my fav gen 9 ground type <3

............

Arven

The moment he met you, he realized you were too nice for your own good sometimes...being the shy and sweet transfer student who winds up being his partner in many classes.

He might tease you from time to time, although he lightens up only after he realizes Mabosstiff likes you--which mean he has to like you as well and not accidentally be too rude.

During battle studies, you two have a match and he's shook when you suddenly bring out Tapu Koko.

Somehow you have a powerful Alolan Guardian deity wrapped around your finger...yet you never once bragged about it.

But Arven fully believes you have a Ditto or Zorua who just chooses to impersonate a Tapu, wondering when it's gonna drop the act.

Soon he finds out that nope, it's the real deal, and you have some strange connection that doesn't allow it to wander too far from you.

Otherwise, it falls violently ill and its magic abilities are weakened.

You're certain it was hexed by someone who wanted to punish it for its mischief, so you've been travelling around hoping to find a "cure".

And ofc that meant Koko had to abandon its duties at Melemele Island and become your Pokémon. It was reluctant at first, but quickly became a loyal friend to you.

Eventually Arven meets the rest of your team, including a female Iron Valiant that escaped from the crater and made herself your ally after saving you from trouble.

She's your literal knight in shining armor, acting like a big sister figure instead of an emotionless robot programmed to attack.

Oftentimes she comes out of the pokeball herself if she senses you're in any kind of danger.

Blood Moon Ursaluna is another bodyguard of yours....who is MASSIVE and utterly terrifying.

All you did was go to Kitakami on a school trip and you suddenly come back with an ancient Ursaring variant/evolution??

How tf are you picking up so many dangerous Pokémon?

Just when he thinks Salazzle is the only "normal" one on your team...

He finds out that she can actually talk, addressing him by name and asking what he was cooking one day.

For a split second he thinks her pheromones/toxins were making him hallucinate...until he sees you having a full blown conversation with her.

It turns out that she developed the ability to speak human language, using it to scare off a group of male Salandits who were threatening you.

At first, she only ever said random words she picked up from humans, but you taught her how to speak coherently and gave her some books...and now she's 100% fluent in English.

All in all, Arven finds your team very...diverse.

You don't really do many Pokémon battles, as they all act like your bodyguards/friends instead. But then again he's never been too battle-crazy either (unlike a certain girl he knows who'd give ANYTHING to battle Tapu Koko).

Kieran

Your personality kinda reminds him of his old self: shy and sweet, oftentimes hiding behind protective figures, etc.

Part of him kinda hated it, but he was good at hiding it.

Was instantly impressed by your Pokémon team, especially the robotic-looking Gardevoir/Gallade hybrid.

Although being a country boi he's bewildered about her LED eyes and her robotic trills, and is definitely not too thrilled about all Pokémon looking like her in some distant/potential future.

Tapu Koko leaves him bewildered, especially when you explained your connection to it while it roamed around the coastal biome, reminiscing about its home in Alola.

He's heard rumors of the Blood Moon Ursaluna back in Kitakami, not caring for it as much as Ogerpon, but he NEVER expected to see that someone like you could have tamed it.

During a battle, Incineroar's flames almost burned you, and your Ursaluna was enraged and knocked him out with one Headlong Rush. Completely unprompted.

Since then Kieran made a point to instruct the feline to be more precise with his fire attacks..lest he became weak.

You impressed the League Club with your talking Salazzle...but at first he believes you're just being irritating and distracting..

Until she talks to him directly, and he's like "...oh wowzers..so you can understand me????"

That's the most shocked anyone in the club has ever seen their leader...

Being motherly as she is, your Salazzle often asks how he's feeling and how Hydrapple is....and he usually shuts down and tells her to mind her business.

But after Area Zero's events, when she asked him again he broke down crying and the poison/fire lizard lowkey panicked.

She had to get you to calm him down.

Since then you two have become close friends, and while in the beginning he was envious of your unique team (that also reminded him of somebody else), he realizes you thought his Hydrapple and battle setups were unique, too.

It honestly made his day.

[daydream-cement]

Seven Minutes in Heaven (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

Larissa joins you for seven minutes in heaven.

Author’s Note: THIS IS SO LATE! BUT THIS IS MY FINAL CONTRIBUTION TO SPOOKY SEASON with @alexusonfire (even tho spooky season is over). This weeks prompt is Halloween Party and I kinda followed that HAHAHAH.

Your class reunion wasn’t something you had anticipated enjoying. Between fielding questions about the current state of your life and if you remembered trivial details from your high school experience, you weren’t keen on repeating the same answers over and over.

But then again, it wasn’t often you had the opportunity of seeing your high school friends, especially at a huge Nevermore Halloween party. 

You hadn’t wanted to shop for a costume, so you threw together some things from your closet to be Dr. Ellie Sattler from 'Jurassic Park' - a costume you figured you would have to explain frequently, but it was better than buying something. 

As you walked into the old high school gym, you began recognizing classmates. Some you kept in close contact while others you had gone 30 years without speaking to. You saw one of those latter individuals immediately - Larissa Weems.

At least you thought it was her. 

She had grown a couple more inches and her body had filled out, but the pinup girl aesthetic remained. You couldn’t tell what her costume was supposed to be as she had maintained her business professional dress. 

You knew you were staring, but you were having trouble comprehending your newfound attraction to your old classmate. And Larissa must have noticed when she approached you with a wide grin, “It’s been too long!”

“It certainly has, and look at you now! The Headmistress of Nevermore?” You grinned and teased her a bit.

“It wasn’t my intention when I first began teaching here, but I must say I love it.” 

The next flirtatious words left your mouth before you had too much time to think about it, “The job looks good on you.” 

There was a brief silence and you then chose to fill it with a compliment, “Everything looks really great, Larissa.”

“I’m grateful for all the help I had… Speaking of…” The shapeshifter checked her watch and glanced back at you. She reached a hand out and squeezed your shoulder, her smile holding a sense of mischief, “I should get this party started. It was really nice seeing you. I hope we can catch up more later.”

Larissa took her position at the front podium and addressed the group, “I am so glad all of you could be present for our 30th class reunion. I am particularly excited this event lands on Halloween! It is so nostalgic seeing your 90s costumes you have put together.”

The platinum blonde gave a short speech about Nevermore and its ability to bring outcasts together. She finished her speech with a great big smile, “There are games and activities for you all throughout the building for you all. Have a wonderful evening!”

You wandered the halls with your old friends, shifting from game to game. All of the activities seemed to be reminiscent of your high school days. 

As the evening progressed, new (and probably not approved) games seemed to pop up throughout the school. Spin the bottle popped up in the english classroom, strip poker was beginning in the employee break room, and seven minutes in heaven was starting in the janitor’s closet. 

You paused near the group gathered outside the janitor’s closet, listening to Larissa politely scolding the group for playing such a childish game. You considered supporting her, but your friends had suddenly volunteered you for the next round. 

For a few cocky seconds, you agreed to the game, glancing at Larissa as you agreed to be shoved in the closet to await your partner. Her eyes were wide, almost shocked that you would be willing to play such a game.

As the door shut in your face, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Anxiety and shame coursed through your body as you awaited the group to pick your seven minutes in heaven partner. You hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up, but you were hoping Larissa would get picked to join you. At least then you would be able to shoot your shot with her. 

Moments later, the closet door opened and the outline of Larissa Weems towered over you. Your dreams had come true, but now you were paralyzed at the notion of kissing her. 

Larissa squeezed her way in the closet, chest pressed to yours as she beamed down at you, “Hi, Y/n.”

Before you could respond, the door was closed behind her - your time had begun.

One minute.

“Hi, Larissa.” You mumble, grateful for the darkness of the closet. She would have been able to see your blush otherwise. 

The shapeshifter leaned in close, her fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as her lips lingered near your ear, “We should probably make wise use of our time together.”

Your tongue instinctively darts from your lips, wetting them as your hands timidly reach for her hips. 

The first kiss from Larissa was to the corner of your mouth followed by another to your cheek followed by another just below your ear. 

Your building nerves had you about to explode. To deal with this, your brain decided it was a good idea to have you start chattering anxiously, “I think you’re really pretty… Like… really pretty.”

“Mm… thank you, darling.” Larissa hummed. Her hand came to rest on the back of your neck, gripping it softly as she held you close. 

Two minutes.

“I was actually thinking of talking to-” You began, swiftly being cut off by Larissa.

“Maybe we should stop talking, hm?” She whispered as she took a step forward, pressing her body to yours. The increased proximity allowed you to feel the way she trembled lightly - she must have been just as nervous as you.

You nod slowly, gripping the sides of her dress in your fists to keep her close. Finally, you begin to return her affections - pressing a kiss to her jawline before timidly working your way towards her lips. 

Her other hand had wound around your middle - the pads of her fingers stroking the skin of your side as they pushed your shirt up the slightest bit. With every move of her fingers and lips, you found yourself losing your ability to control yourself.

When Larissa felt you drawing closer to her lips, she paused her own kisses to your skin, choosing to turn towards you instead, connecting your lips.

The first kiss was soft and quick, but once you both realized the potential of your chemistry you both dove in for another kiss.

Then another.

And another.

All growing in duration and intensity.

Three minutes.

You felt dizzy from desire. Absolutely drunk off Larissa’s lips. 

Only if you could have seen the lipstick smeared around both of your mouths. 

Larissa’s fingers squeezed your sides with a ferocity that made your eyes wind shut. In an act of desperation, one of your hands flies to the back of her neck to prevent any opportunity for her to pull away. 

You wished this moment would never end. 

All of those years of crushing on Larissa in school were finally coming to fruition. 

Her teeth tugged and sucked at your bottom lip - a preamble of her growing passion.

Four minutes.

It came as a shock when her hands clamped down on your cheeks and she pressed her lips to yours with an intensity that made your brain short circuit. 

Her tongue slipped past her lips, swiping it up across your lips before nipping at your bottom lip. 

The kisses became searing pecks as Larissa began interjecting her desires between them.

“Aren’t you just darling?”

“I bet our time is running out…”

“Perhaps we should meet back in my office when this little game is over.”

“We could have our own extended version of seven minutes in heaven…”

Five minutes.

Larissa was overcome by her desires for you. In a flash, she had you with your back against the wall. Her kisses were soon open mouthed and sloppy - evidence of her growing arousal.

Her passion made you brazen. Your hands fell to her backside, cupping and groping her ass rough enough to make the shapeshifter moan in your mouth. Larissa’s hips bucked against your pelvis, continually searching for more proximity that was no longer physically possible.

With enough grabbing of her plush ass, her shirt began to ride up and you took total advantage of the situation. Your fingers gripped the edge of her skirt and peeled it upwards enough to expose Larissa’s underwear to your wandering hands. 

The shapeshifter smiled against your lips at her newfound exposure. She then pushed a thigh between your legs - not to pleasure you, however. Larissa was too focused on her own neediness as she began grinding herself on your upper thigh.

Six minutes.

“It’s been so long, darling…” Larissa moaned in your ear, bucking and grinding herself against you with reckless abandon. Your hands positioned on her ass allowed you to play a role in guiding her hips to roll against you.

“Whatever you want… I’ll do whatever. Just tell me what you want.” You whimper before pushing your hips upward against Larissa’s needy pelvis.

“I want you… I just want you.” 

It was clear the shapeshifter had had enough talking when her lips crashed back onto yours and her tongue plunged back into your mouth. 

You gave yourself over entirely.

Only wanting to be of use to her.

Seven minutes.

Banging on the door caused the shapeshifter to pull away with a groan. Her eyes scanned your face through the darkness of the room before she dipped back down, grazing your lips with hers once, then twice - teasing you. 

“Times up.” She whispered, readjusting her skirt before wiping at her smeared lipstick with the back of her hand. “See you later, darling?”

“Yeah.. yeah.. I-I’ll see you- uhm- later…” You sputter out as she leaves you alone in the closet - disheveled and out of breath, leaning against a wall with lipstick stains covering your face and neck. 

As soon as you collected yourself, you knew you would be sprinting to her office.

PART 2

Taglist: @charymobile , @bri-sonat , @weemswife @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse , @teashock , @enchantressb , @alex-nyx , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan , @lilfartbox1 , @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @sicklygrlsicklygrl , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @dumbasslesbi , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @h-doodles , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 @bychrissi , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic , @kimiinou @hiiamkatana , @mountain-bikingwitch , @willowshadenox , @aemilia19 , @mommyslittlebaby , @agathaandgwenslesbian , @gay-frogs08

[yurunivo]

Hii! Not sure if you are doing theres(if u dont just please ignore it) kind of requests, but if you do, may I pretty please with cherry on top get some headconons of yandere Mavuika with a darling on hunger strike? (basically darling refuses to eat unless freed)

Tsm 4 reading my request! And I am so sorry if you are not taking theres kind of requests, please just ignore this if thats the case!!

This is my first time getting this kind of request but I'll try 👆

Synopsis: you're not eating till you're free

TW: Darling will be the reader since I'm not too familiar with the concept (idk if darling is reader or not so yeah), gn!reader, coercion, manipulation, drug use, mentions of people supporting mavuika's actions, yandere Mavuika, reader is a traveller (but not the traveller), bad grammar, not proofread, bad writing, english is not my first language, I do not support any of the actions I've written, mentions of hurting reader, OOC, mentions of vomiting, short

Characters: Yandere!Mavuika x gn!reader

You missed the outside world.

The way Mondstadts air was like a calming breeze, the way Liyue had their stories, the way Inazuma was filled with the books from Yae publishing house, the way Sumeru was so casual, the way Fontaine's books were always entertaining to read.

You missed it all.

You had a plan to journey to find out about the entire world, the cultures of the different nations and their history. It was all so intriguing to you. However, out of all the regions, Nation was the most mysterious. None of the civilians from Natlan went outside their Nation, and it was all a mystery to you.

Now you knew that you should've stayed curious.

Natlan was filled with welcoming people, the culture and everything was all so unique to you. The tribal systems, the ancient names, they were all things you'd never heard of before. The fact that the Archon was human too really piqued your interest. It was much different than anything else you had ever seen before. You were drowning in these revelations, in a good way.

That's when you met the Archon.

She was welcoming, very much so. It was like you two bonded immediately. The two of you often got lost into speaking about many topics, her about Natlan and you about your journey. That often led to hours of talking, a company you enjoyed greatly.

It was then time for you to leave. Your family would start to worry about you leaving for too long anyway. But, Mavuika's words always made you stay for a bit longer, somehow.

"You still haven't learned about the specific cultures of each tribe, maybe we could talk about that. Writing letters is a hassle anyway. Just stay here for longer I promise."

So, one month turned to two, two into three and three into four. That's when you had the conscience to know that you were staying for too long. It was strange how your family wasn't giving any letters, but they must be worried either way.

The look Mavuika gave you when you told her this was nothing in the sort of pretty. However, she complied, and allowed you to leave Natlan. However, just as you were about to leave her office, you collapsed. You coughed up a bit of blood and you looked above you. Mavuika was peering down on you, her foot next to your head. Maybe that's why the smell in the room made you feel weird.

That's when you woke up in a bed, more luxurious than yours but horrifying nonetheless. You saw Mavuika entering the room, her expression unreadable. She offered you a hand, yet you slapped it away angrily. You were beyond angry, and also scared.

"Where am I Mavuika?! What did you do?!" Your eyes were starting to be filled up with tears, yet all she did was brush them away tenderly with her finger. The action felt disgusting, and you wanted nothing more than to escape. You spoke insult after insult to her, but she ended up carrying you, and as much as you wanted to just get out of her grasp, her scorching Pyro abilities on your back was enough to shut you up.

She took you to the stadium where multiple people were watching. You gulped at the sight, what was going on? Why did the people look so happy, weren't they going to help?!

She announced with joy that you were her "lover". You looked at her, horrified, trying to escspe from her grasp. The thought of it made you want to vomit, but the fact that so many people were cheering her on for getting a lover in the first place made it impossible for your screams of terror to be heard. You screeched, yelled and tried your very best but they were never heard.

You stayed for another month in Natlan, your face turning paper by the day.

Mavuika took you to the different tribes. She made you meet ancient name bearers, heroes of Natlan and such, but you want nothing to do with it. You just want to go home. You didn't want to know who were random people, you wanted to know how the hell you would get out of your situation.

Every feast, every gift, every compliment, they meant nothing. You vomited everything you ate, you threw away every gift you got and you (rudely) brushed off any compliment you could get. Mavuika gave you gifts too, but you always threw that away first.

Right now, you vomited up the food you ate again, feeling sick to your stomach. Coughing up saliva, you wiped it away with your sleeve.

"If she's going to play this game then so shall I," you muttered to yourself, determined . Really, your plan would only bring you so much pain, the pain of not eating, but you couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she sees your dead body. That salvation was the only thing you dreamed of. That's the day you put your plan into effect.

You ate nothing, you didn't want to, and for your best interest too. All the events that were celebrated were declined, and the maids that were supposed to take care of you got the same old excuse of: "I already ate," or, "I don't feel like eating." You were ecstatic, so glad everything was going the way you wanted. Sure, you were as skinny as a stick now, you were pale and all of your veins were showing, but hey, if she didn't do anything about it, it was fine. They way you would tremble, the way you constantly felt cold, the way you were like a twig ready to be blown away by the wind would all be worth it. Your inevitable death would be worth it, and you'd been dreaming of that outcome for a while by now.

"It would all be worth it."

As you pushed away the food you were offered again, you looked through your surroundings. You were bored. All the novels you'd gotten were all read through, and if it weren't for a certain Archon, you would've found your way to Snezhnaya by now.

That question answered itself quite easily.

Surprisingly enough you started to feel your eyes going shut. You mumbled incoherently, slowly falling asleep. Maybe you could pass the time by resting.

"Just a small nap.." You yawned, your mind going blank.

As you did so, Mavuika entered the room again, holding a bowl of gruel in her hands. She walked up to you and sat down at the ledge of the bed, slowly but surely feeding your unconscious figure. You would choke if she got any thing heavier, so this would have to do for now.

A few coughs went unnoticed as she finished your meal and slowly making you drink water, making sure you don't waste any drop. Your face was serene, she really hoped it would stay that way when you woke up.

"The inscence I got from Miss Emilie certainly worked well, I should thank her by letter sometime," she mumbled, looking at the hidden plate of the stuff in the corner. You were still fast asleep, oblivious to what she was doing.

"You won't be able to get rid of me so soon my dear," she talked to your sleeping self as she walked away. In response, you did a slight jerk in your sleep, almost as if you could hear what she said. But, if you knew or not didn't matter, you couldn't fight her anyway.

This is so trash but wtv

[i-starcreamed]

Hey can I get three different scenarios if, Optimus, Mirage and bumblebee from Rotb, had met a tameranean who is like Starfire in a way, and is a princess. How would they react when they meet her and learn how strong and powerful she is, and what would their romantic relationship be like. Also the reader acts like starfire too, but I would find it funny if she kissed the Autobots to learn their language when she too comes to earth cause they were the nearest thing near her. Sorry if this is a lot I just love the idea since she too lives in space, that they may know a little bit about each other. Also I would find it adorable if they had sparklings with her since I head canon tameraneans can practically mate with anything. (I’m gonna scream if you except this, cause I don’t think you will but thank you for at least reading this! 🫶🏾)

i actually thought this idea was super cute, anon. I decided to do long-ish headcanons because I wasn't sure how to fit everything into one scenario for each.

[ tameranean!reader post includes: ROTB Optimus, Mirage, and Bumblebee

OPTIMUS

once he assesses that you're not a threat, I imagine he'd be super curious about your powers and abilities. Once he finds out you're too from space, I feel like he'll be able to confide in you a bit more than he would with humans?? Like, you're an alien like him, possibly stranded on Earth as well

he respects you so much, because wow you're a princess? He admires your bravery, especially if you're willing to help them. Despite being reluctant at first

Just imagined Optimus Prime bowing down to you a little, started going crazy

anyways

The Autobots were the first you came across upon landing on Earth, you didn't speak their language nor did you speak English. You proved you weren't a threat, but they didn't understand you or know your motives yet. You realized you landed on yet another civilization that doesn't speak nor understand Tamaraneans. And so, you did the only thing you could do. Optimus was the closest, so you gave him a simple peck on the mouth. The other autobots around were trying not to giggle at the look on Prime's face. He was shocked, confused, and maybe a bit flustered. You swore he didn't answer for a couple minutes when you greeted everyone.

He's suchhh a big fan of your Tamaranean features, you're so unique and yet so human as well. Again, he admires your bravery and strength and your attitude. Genuinely enjoys your company. If you're somewhere secluded, he'll go on a drive with you maybe flying next to him as you talk :3

I think Prime would be one to want sparklings with his significant other, he could only hope they will live in a world outside of war. He would never want them to experience what he and many others did. Also deep down, the Orion Pax in him that would've never thought about fighting in a war would've wanted to happily settle down somewhere. Knowing that you're a bit stronger/resilient than normal humans (or most types of aliens he knows of) he feels a lot more secure with having sparklings with you. How many? No one will ever know.

MIRAGE

okay so imagine you meet in the middle of a fight accidentally. You've been trying to blend in like a normal citizen of Earth ever since you got here, you were shocked to see that humans were in fact not the only species that lived here. Unfortunately for you, the same city you were staying at was being attacked by giant evil alien robots.

You're in the middle of the street, not really knowing the extent of what these robots can do. One second you see a Porsche, a semi truck, and a camaro speed past you and transform into more alien robots...but this time they're fighting the one destroying the city so they're good you think? The next second, you were too frozen in admiring these aliens when suddenly a car goes flying towards you.

It happens in slow motion, Mirage is the only one who sees it go straight for your face. But he's confident, he knows he can catch it and save you. Except...it slips through his servos. His spark nearly stops. Instead of seeing a poor 'human' go spat on the ground, he can't believe his optics when you reach out and catch the fucking car??

After that whole incident, he's asking you a bunch of questions. You give him a lil kiss so you can answer him in his language, you're slightly surprised when suddenly you know english and cybertronian, whatever that is

Honestly, I could imagine Mirage never letting go of that kiss, like he's going to joke about it for years.

You're a princess? hell yeah, he thinks you're super badass and wants to see you in action tbh. He's still gonna act like a knight in shining armor but he knows you can handle yourself, he wants to impress you fr

Wants you to teach him your language, he will try but it'll sound like gibberish. Either that or he will learn it immediately because uhh cybertronian super advanced robot?

He's definitely an excited father to your sparklings, you will need to make sure he doesn't teach them to be troublemakers because HE WILL raise them into little fuckin risk takers

BUMBLEBEE

Unfortunately he would not be able to learn your language since there are no tameranean radio stations.. but hey you can still kiss him!

once he gets to know you and where you're from, he's a huge fangirl I think

definitely hypes you up and praises you when you chuck a car at a deception or something. Once he knows you're probably as strong as they are, you guys do some cool combos out in the battlefield.

power couple !?!?!

jokingly does a little bow every time he greets you, then crushes you in a hug. Probably plays some cheesy line from some radio station

he lovesss how you're so kind and compassionate to species you don't know and a planet that isn't yours, but also the fact that you're brave in the face of danger. He knows you can defend yourself and still come back to give him a lil kiss afterwards

he asks if you can carry him. you probably lift him up by one hand and he's going crazy that you might drop him.

you will both learn about Earth together, as well as each other's home planets :3

laying out in the middle of nowhere, staring at the stars and reminiscing about your home? of course

he'd be sooo nervous about sparklings, nervous but excited. He'd be the most caring boyfriend and equally as caring father

thinks your sparklings are the cutest ever ever

[skolworthy]

Time Knows No Bounds - Part Five

Warnings: Finally, the sexual tension you have been waiting for! Some NSFW parts are present, so please read responsibly and don't get caught. ;)

Info: When the font is like this, it means Ragnar is speaking in his native tongue. When he is speaking English it will just be italicized. The reader's text is just normal and anyone other than Ragnar or the reader will be in bold.

Spoilers: None, because this is completely my creation (apart from the character/legend of Ragnar Lothbrok and other historical names) it has nothing to really do with the tv series.

Plot: Ragnar, in this series, is unattached to anyone romantically. No Lagertha or Aslaug or any other baby momma's out there. No children. He has met and learned with Athelstan, because that contributes to his ability to speak with the reader. Other than that, he's just a simple gorgeous viking that lives on his farm in Kattegat, dreaming of adventure.

Summary: This will be in Ragnar's POV again. -A rude interruption leads to your freedom from the utility closet, but will the opportunity to get this close ever present itself again? Time will only tell.

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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

It seemed that there was destined to be an interruption at every time that he attempted to get closer to y/n. First the 'phone' that she had in her pocket back in the bedroom she had given him, chiming when the two of them had just started to lean into one another. Now to the door flying open when he had actually began to make contact with her lips. Those lips that had long been on his mind from the moment she first gave him a smirk back at him in return to his. Ragnar had been enthralled with y/n from the moment his eyes landed upon her after arriving to this time period, even more so than the advanced world around him. Y/n was by far the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen and her sassy personality and humor caused him to grow even more attracted to her as the hours flew by. What really drew him to her, was her sense of nobility: she was willing to do what she could to help him even though she had no real reason to. She could have left him there and been on her way and who knew what sort of trouble he would have found himself in. Ragnar was quite good at getting himself into trouble, and being here alone, he had no one to get him out of it. Yet y/n was adamant in helping him to fit in, and learn the way of things in this time, while also doing what she could to figure out just how he got there and how he could get back. Perhaps it was a good thing that they had been interrupted from their kiss? If he was to end up going home one day...would it not be better to avoid the temptation that y/n presented? Ragnar knew that it was silly to believe this, for they had just met, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he ended up falling madly in love with her.

The small balding man from earlier was standing there with raised eyebrows, though the two of you had pulled apart quickly when the door had opened. The look in the man's eye told them that he had still seen their close proximity and their flushed faces no doubt gave away what had been about to happen. Y/n began to explain the situation and the man just smiled and held up his hand. "No need for explanation, this is honestly the most tame thing I have come across when opening this door." he said, as his eyes cast elsewhere, a vacant and disturbed expression on his face. "I will have maintenance fix it tonight during their shift, mark my words. It's only a matter of time before I end up getting myself locked in here and I can tell you, no one would come looking for the boss." he said with a chuckle. Y/n gave a small smile and then glanced at Ragnar before she grabbed the broom and headed out, to which he followed after her, giving a nod of thanks to the man, even though he was not 100% thankful for the interruption. He followed her back to the exhibit where he watched y/n begin to sweep up the little bits of paper, pottery and other things that were scattered across the floor. He watched her silently for a moment before he began to open his mouth to say something, but she stopped him by handing him the broom. "I need to go and find the dust pan, can you finish up for me?" she asked with a small smile on her lips. How could he say no? He gave a nod of his head and then watched her walk away, his eyes slowly roaming down her body to her backside before he sighed and looked down at the bits that still needed to be swept into a pile.

When she came back they helped one another finish sweeping and dumping the dust pan into the trash before finally they were finished and the exhibit, hopefully, looked good as new. He watched as she went around one final time to each part of the exhibit and adjusted it slightly, before she finally gave a nod and came back over to him. "That's better." she said. Ragnar smirked at her and then set the broom down against the wall. "What is next?" Y/n smirked back at him and then said that they were free to do whatever for the day, since it was still technically her day off. "This is a whole new world for you, what would you like to do?" Ragnar's mind thought back to the moment in the closet, where he had y/n pressed up against the wall with his body, his lips so close to capturing hers as he had been longing for. Yeah, there was no denying that that was what he wanted to explore right now. Yet as he looked at y/n as she stood there smiling at him with a tilted head, the way that the sunlight from the skylights above danced across her hair and lit up her eyes some, he knew that there was something more he wanted. He gestured for them to head out of the museum and as they did, his eyes searching around him at the vast city and all of its massive structures of metal and brick and...noise. So. Much. Noise. Ragnar suddenly felt overwhelmed and he rubbed the back of his neck uneasily before he felt y/n place a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looked down at her. He gave a smile and then slid his hands into the pockets of his pants...er...jeans, he believed she called them? "What is your most favorite place to go in the city?" he asked. "That is what I would like to see." he said, his smile forming into his trademark smirk.

This seemed to take y/n by surprise, her eyebrows lifting to the heaven's ever so slightly before coming back down and a smile played upon her lips. "Oh." she said before she pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Alright, but we will need to grab some provisions first." she said, which altogether confused him. Provisions for what? She lifted her finger and wagged it in motion for him to follow her, he did not hesitate. They soon found themselves back inside her home, where he watched as she went to the kitchen and began to rummage around in the refrigerator, setting things onto the counter before diving back in again. "What are you doing?" Ragnar asked as he finally began to make his way toward the kitchen. "Do me a favor and go grab that blanket that's on the back of the couch." She said while still halfway within the box. He paused, his eyes scanning the room until they caught sight of the large blanket that was draped over the dark blue three cushioned piece of furniture and he picked it up, folding it a bit. He brought it into the kitchen and stood there as she began to put together some sort of food, that contained meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato and placed between two slices of bread. Huh. Ragnar leaned forward some, looking over her shoulder as she cut them in half and placed the pieces into a container and closed the lid. Then she grabbed a bottle of something yellow and a jar of something white, to which she placed it within a large basket. She then grabbed some bottles of water and put them inside as well, along with plates that appeared to be made out of paper and some cutlery too and then she stood there thinking for a moment before she turned and looked at him. "I think that is all we will need." "For what?" "You'll see." He groaned, letting his head fall back a bit as he did and she chuckled, hoisting the basket to him for him to carry and he lifted his head back up, stared down at her silently before pursing his lips and taking the basket from her. "Fine."

Once again he found himself within one of those so called 'cars' and they were on their way to wherever y/n had planned on taking him. The trip did not take as long as he had thought it would, still, he was just as mesmerized by the surroundings they passed as he was the first time he had been in a 'car'. They came down a path that wound a little way, trees on either side in neat rows, flowers at full bloom within their thick foliage. Ragnar leaned closer to the window in hopes of seeing exactly where they were going until the car then came to a stop and he blinked, turning to look over at y/n as she began to open the door. "We will have to walk from here." she said with a smile, a dimple forming at the corner of her mouth that he had not noticed before but oh how he was enamored by it. He swatted her hand away from the basket when she reached for it as it sat between them, taking it in his own hand and gave her a smirk as he exited the car and walked around to where she stood waiting for him. He followed after her as they continued on to a smaller path that branched off from where the car had left them and he couldn't help but let his gaze wander from his surroundings, to roaming up and down y/n's body slowly as she walked ahead of him. From the way that her hair blew slightly in the breeze causing it to dance around her shoulders, to the way that her hips would sway as she walked. Ragnar's eyes couldn't keep from focusing on her backside longer than what was probably appropriate, but he just simply could not help himself. When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, his eyes quickly averted elsewhere before she could catch on, though when she looked back ahead, his eyes would trail right back and a smirk would form on his face.

They finally stepped off of the pathway that she had been leading them down and began a climb uphill until they reached the very top, where she then took the blanket from on top of the basket and threw it outward, allowing it to settle upon the grass. Then she lowered herself down to smooth it out, then she took the basket from his hand and set it off to the side of the blanket before standing back up. Ragnar had been about to sit down upon the blanket, thinking that was what she was aiming to do as well, but she had stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and gestured for him to look in a direction off ahead of them. He turned his gaze and she smiled at his reaction as his mouth parted ever so slightly at the sight of their view. Vast gardens and mazes lined the way below them, colorful blooms of almost every shade all intricately positioned within the maze and walkways. What truly caused Ragnar's mouth to part was the castle that was at the end of the mazes and gardens, perfectly placed like it had hopped off of the pages of a storybook. "Rosenborg Castle and gardens. One of my most favorite places." she said softly as she stood a little closer to him, tilting her head a bit as she looked up at him and then out toward the scenery. "With my love for history, this place never disappoints to fill my head with wonder." Y/n gave a soft sigh and Ragnar finally turned and looked down at her, a smile upon his face instead of his trademark smirk. "It is...quite amazing. There are not many castles back home." He lowered himself down to the blanket as she did, bringing his knees up and letting his arms drape over them lazily as he watched her begin to fish out the items from within her basket and set them out upon the blanket. "What do you call all of...this?" he said, gesturing before him at all of the food, plates, bottles of water and other things. Y/n smiled and opened the container and pulled out the bread with meat and cheese between it and set it upon a plate, handing it to him. "A picnic. That's a sandwich." she added, when he opened his mouth and pointed at the unfamiliar food item before him. His eyes lifted to hers for a moment, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly in question and he began to open his mouth once more. "No, not that kind of witch." Again, beating him to the punch.

Ragnar eyed the sandwich with suspicion at first, then watched as y/n pulled out the jar of white stuff and the bottle of yellow and pointed them to the sandwich. "Lift the bread up and I will add some of both. Mustard. Mayonnaise." she said, holding up each of the items as she named them and he just stared at them before finally doing as she said. "Something the vikings didn't get to experience. A world of flavorful food." she said, clicking her tongue in sadness. When she was finished applying the mustard and mayonnaise, Ragnar let the bread fall back down and then brought the sandwich up to his mouth and bit into it. The moment everything hit his tongue, he paused and his eyes drifted to the basket that sat behind y/n. "Is...there more in there?" he asked, after having swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. Y/n chuckled and nodded, stating she had packed several sandwiches. She then pulled out a small and rather noisy bag and he watched as she opened it, leaning forward and looking into the back as she then pulled out a flat piece of..something, and then popped it in her mouth and he could hear the sound of her crunching it. He raised an eyebrow as she continued to crunch on that piece, from what he had seen it did not look at all hard, but yet the sound was quite...loud. He smirked and then she allowed him to grab one from the bag as well and when he placed it within his mouth, he was blown away from the flavor and when he bit down on it, it would have startled him with how crunchy it was, had he not already known from overhearing y/n earlier. "What is this thing?" he asked, still crunching which made her laugh out loud. "It's called a potato chip and there are so many flavors out there." This intrigued him greatly, the fact that this delicious and crunchy form of heaven was made out of a potato and he then asked y/n exactly how they were made and what these other flavors would be. The fact that the list of flavors went on, and he literally had no idea what more than half of them were, blew his mind though she did promise to help him form a quest to try every flavor possible.

Eventually all of the food was gone and now the two of them were left with just sitting upon the quilt she had brought and watching the shadows grow longer as the day grew ever onward. Y/n told Ragnar the history of the castle that was before them as they sat upon the hill and watched people come and go across the grounds before them. How they would venture inside of it and y/n explained how it was open to the public, everyone able to tour the palace and all of its wonders. This intrigued Ragnar greatly, especially the fact that people could just waltz into the castle like that and this caused y/n to laugh. "Well, there are not that many monarchies still around anymore and even then, their power is nothing like it once was. The average person has more power these days than royalty, honestly. Governments were created, people can vote and choose how they want things to be. It's a very different world now." she said as she leaned back on her hands, her legs stretched out before her as she looked at the castle while the sun cast down upon it in a way that made it almost look like it was glowing. Ragnar glanced over at her, not being able to help himself from doing so, his own hands holding him upright as he leaned back upon them as well. He took in just how she was looking at the castle and the grounds that lay out before them, how her eyes showed just how much she admired the history that she knew, the architecture that the castle boasted even after the centuries that it had been standing there. His chest swelled a little as he gazed at her, the way the light would dance across her face as sun hit against the surface of the small lake that was in front of the castle. He finally cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. "Why are you helping me?" he asked finally after a few minutes of silence.

Y/n was silent for awhile after that question, but as he watched, he could see her face showing signs of deep thought. "Because there is a reason behind all of this happening: you suddenly coming into the future and us meeting." she paused for a moment and then looked over at him. "I want to know what that reason is." Their eyes locked for a moment, Ragnar's heart suddenly skipping at beat just from that and then y/n smirked at him. "Plus, you seem like a trouble maker. Someone's gotta keep an eye on you." At this point, Ragnar could not help himself. He leaned toward her, his left hand reaching up and placing itself against the back of her neck gently and with it he brought her toward him. The soft gasp she gave in response silencing as his mouth captured it, his lips softly pressing against hers at first before they began to guide hers in a subtly sensual dance. He could feel her hesitation in the beginning, from the way her body went stiff but after a few moments he felt her relax, give in and she began to move her lips against his as well. The sensation of her lips moving against his caused that low burning heat he had within his lower stomach to engulf into a raging inferno, escalating as her hand made its' way to the side of his face and cupped it for a moment before moving behind his head, to the back of his neck, her fingers digging slightly into the base of his hairline. Ragnar continued the kiss, slowly deepening it as he then moved his body closer to hers and began to maneuver her downward toward the blanket they were seated upon, his hand cradling her neck to guide the way. He moved so that way he was somewhat on top of her, his lips dancing against hers until they began to venture along her jawline and behind her ear, his mind and body reeling from the soft sounds of agreement that came from her mouth as he did.

The hand that he had been using to keep himself from putting all of his weight upon her, slid around her waist and then began to travel toward one of her breasts when suddenly he felt her hand catch hold of his wrist, stopping his movement. Ragnar paused and then slowly pulled his face away slightly, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. "We should stop before someone sees." she said, which caused him to lift his had further and scan the area with his eyes before looking back down at her. "No one is watching." he said with a smirk, starting to lean back down toward her mouth, but she put a hand against his chest, once again stopping him. Y/n gave a soft chuckle and began to sit up, pushing him upward as well with the hand that was upon his chest. "I'm sure where you are from, people just fuck in the middle of the village and no one spares a passing glance, but here it is quite different. We don't need to end up in jail." Now sitting up, she began to pack up the items around her and put them into the basket. "Perhaps it's time to head back home?" she said, her eyes lifting to meet his. Ragnar quickly stood up and began to carefully roll up the blanket as she gave a soft laugh and moved from on top of it so that he could place it into the basket as well. Soon a taxi was hailed and the two of them were riding along in silence that was so thick that the tension could be cut with a knife. Glances were stolen. Lips were chewed upon slightly. Ragnar's knee was bouncing uncontrollably as he let hand rest there, fingers gripping into his flesh, his mind imagining that his hand was kneading one of those impressive mounds she had for breasts. Could this taxi possibly move any slower?

Finally back at y/n's apartment, they worked together to put away any left overs and other items before y/n stated that she was going to take a shower and Ragnar gave a nod, figuring that he would just lie down upon his bed since he still did not really understand how to work the 'TV'. He followed after her down the hallway and as he did, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her as she was before him. The way her back curved, down to that luscious backside...the feelings from earlier began to swell back up within him with a vengeance. Ragnar's pace quickened by a few steps and he then took hold of y/n's waist and turned her toward him suddenly. He moved her against the wall, pushing her up against it as he leaned down and claimed her lips with his once again. Any gasps or noise she may have made in reaction to this sudden movement was swallowed down by Ragnar as he pressed himself against her, his hands sliding down her sides and squeezing lightly. Y/n gave a soft moan against his mouth and this caused him to give a bit of a growl as he then moved his lips to her neck, one of his hands sliding down to cup against her bottom and giving it a hardy squeeze. Ragnar felt her fingers curl a bit into his hair and grip hard, which made him suddenly move his hand from her bottom down to that thigh and he lifted her leg up and wrapped it around his hip as he pressed his growing excitement against her. When he felt her grind against him slightly, Ragnar all but lost control and began to bite and suck against the skin of her collarbone as he used his other hand to move up under her shirt and cupped one of her breasts, giving it a firm squeeze after. Y/n's hand took hold of his braid and pulled his head back up to where she began to kiss him fervently, her tongue even darting across his bottom lip. Ragnar groaned, pressing himself more against her as his body pinned her against the wall, giving his hips a roll while holding there and then grinning against her mouth when she let out an involuntary moan. He then removed his hand from under her shirt and slid it behind her to where he cupped her other thigh and brought it up around his hip as well. He held her like that for a moment against the wall, devouring her lips, biting and sucking against that bottom lip of hers until he then moved away from the wall, carrying her down the hallway and through the doorway of his room.

Their lips never parted as he carried her, not even as he came over to the bed and lowered her down onto it, moving to hover over her. Ragnar took the time to lift her shirt up and over her head, letting his eyes roam over her flawless skin, his eyes hesitating on the odd looking bodice that was clasped around her perfect breasts (he made a mental note to ask about this later). He then began to kiss down the side of her neck, letting his lips dance across her collarbone once more before he moved them further down until he came to the tops of her breasts. He placed light kisses there at first...then he began to lick, moving the piece of fabric that kept her sensitive bud hidden from him. Once it was revealed, he took it into his mouth gently and sucked on it lightly, his eyes lifting toward y/n's face as she gasped. Her back arched upward from the bed and he let one of his arms wrap around her waist to keep her in that position as he then let his other hand begin to slide down the front of her pants, now that there was room with the angle she was in. Ragnar moaned against her skin as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucking and gently biting down as his fingers descended toward his objective. His index finger had just brushed against her ready clit when the sound of numerous chimes echoed around them. He paused, lifting his eyes toward her as she gave a groan. "Someone's at the door." she said, breathless. He felt her body begin to tense with the movement of trying to sit herself up, but he held her down with his palm against her pelvic bone and his mouth quickly moving to the other breast as his hand moved away the fabric from that nipple as well. She gasped, arching upward again and gave quick and eager attention to this breast for a moment before lifting his face up some and looking at her. "They can come back another day." he said with smirk, before he began to move his fingers back to her clit...when the chiming began again, this time more frequently. Ragnar gave a loud groan and let his forehead rest against her chest for a moment, before he felt her hand gently begin to push against his chest and he reluctantly rolled off of her and onto his back upon the bed, staring at the ceiling with annoyance.

Y/n gave him an apologetic look before she slipped her shirt back on over her head and adjusted her hair before heading out into the hallway and toward the front door. Ragnar waited for a moment, allowing certain body parts to adjust to the unwelcome interruption, before he pushed himself off of the bed and headed to the living room. He stopped in the doorway of the hall when he found y/n standing by the front door, now closed, with a young man standing beside her. The man cast him a look with a raised eyebrow, to which Ragnar did not hesitate to give back until his eyes moved to y/n as she spoke. "Ragnar, this is my older brother, Kyle."

Gif Credit: @captainalicen

Tag List: @cullenswife @hypocritic-trash-baby @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huskyhunnyny @wolfy1712 @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @mssbridgerton @menari @kcd15

(If I have forgotten anyone in the tag list, please let me know and I will fix it! <3 )

[simping-overload]

ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ & ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴜᴄᴋꜱ

a/n: love the way my revival is about a man and his ducks.

tags: DUCKS, lucifer being a mentally unstable man, x reader, no gender or pronouns other than 'you' mentioned, luci being smitten for u, not proof read

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

↠lucifer has had a... LOT of frre time on his hands. his ducks are the main thing that kept him partly sane over the years after his split. until you showed up at least.

↠luci loves talking about his ducks with you, they're his pride and joys. please lend an ear to his duck related rambles and he will love you for eternity.

↠he has names for every. single. one. he remembers them, too! they, for the most part, are english names, but there's at least one duck who has a name in each of the earth realms languages.

↠he gives them birthdays—and to his best ability, he will celebrate each one.

↠he makes them lil outfits. most of the time, they are a wide viarty of suits or dresses.

↠he has a LOT of ducks with wedding suits and dresses. theres always a pair getting married at least a few times a month.

↠i can see him with a binder that's filled with all of his ducks names and things like hobbies, likes, dislikes, and etc.

↠if he was a human he would totally do the jeep thing where they put rubber ducks on the jeeps

↠he does something similar but around the castle—he puts them in the strangest places. the broom closet, inside shoes, cereal boxes, and literally any other random corner he can find.

↠he makes everyone interact with a duck, even if he hates them, alastor. everyone in the hotel will have their own duck. he even have a special shelf for them in his duck room too. charlie once caught a glimpse of them when she saw you come out of the room, her eyes nearly popped out of their socket when she gave her father the biggest puppy dog eyes ever when she asked to take them back with her.

↠later that day, she sent pictures of all the guests and staff with their own ducks side by side.

↠speaking of alastor, he(the duck ver) and duckstor have fights so he can take his anger out on it. he acts like a ref in the fights too. no matter what he will come out on top.

↠you of course, have your own duck. tho you didn't know about this until about a couple months after you've gotton together. he loves you dearly but did not want to freak you out with the duck thing.

↠his and duck version of you will have matching outfits that reflect what you're wearing irl. it has him giggling and kicking his feet over this like a school girl.

↠if you indulge him and actively participate in his duck shenanigans and/or even if you start to make your own ducks he will be so so happy.

↠and honestly seeing that lovely light return to his eyes is just the best.

↠your ducks—no matter your relationship with alastor—will be ganging up on duckstor like every day. this is non-disscusable.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 7 . Truth (2)

a/n: double update this week (I'll upload another chapter tom) to lament over my fever getting higher lol (I'm actually procrastinating my school works)

tags: frustrated rosalyn, again abuse as the norm, cursing, detrimental thoughts and ways of living, unhealthy coping mechanisms and trauma responses

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Rosalyn is someone who threw away her royal position to pursue her dreams of being a mage.

A decision that removed her from her family.

The mage thinks that she would be sad by this if it wasn’t for the fact that she immediately found a new family to be with.

It's amazing if you ask her. It was as if the gods saw that she needed someone to trust after almost being killed and gave it to her in the form of a socially awkward swordsman.

And then almost right after she put her trust in Choi Han, she gained a little brother named Lock.

From there it spiralled. She met Cale and all the other people under him. She got the support she needed to make her dreams come true. On top of that, her relationship with her blood relatives is still good.

Overall it was nice. Especially when Cale seems to keep making friends everywhere and expanding this family-esc circle they have.

That was why when Cale brought another person home Rosalyn thought it would be the same thing. Thought that in a few days' time, that person would be part of their group, their family.

Well in a way they were.

Rosalyn has come to see _____ as her younger sibling, the same way she views Lock. She has taken it upon herself to help the healer acclimatize to their new group and environment in general.

However, every time Rosalyn thinks she’s making progress, _____ seems to go back into their shell.

At first, the woman thought they were just socially awkward. Perhaps shaken because their family literally just threw them to their death.

Her first mistake was assuming it was as trivial as that.

Her second mistake was not getting the full story.

If she had done that then maybe she wouldn’t be this shocked so early in the morning.

Well in her defence she was expecting Cale to talk about some sort of plan for when they meet the dragon. Why else would he gather the group this early right before they are set to travel to the dragon’s lair?

Apparently not.

As soon as everyone has settled Cale brought to everyone’s attention that they didn’t know how _____’s powers work.

This made Rosalyn confused. Because quite frankly what does this have to do with… well anything?

But oh god, the more _____ explains their abilities the more she understood why this has to be said now.

This should have been explained way earlier. Because what do they mean that _____ essentially absorbs their patients' wounds?

It made the mage look back at all the people the Medicus had healed. All the sickness and wounds they had to absorb.

And shit.

She remembered that _____ has been doing this since they were 9 years old. Maybe even earlier as she discovered that the famous story of their adoption is fabricated.

Rosalyn may have only known _____ for a short while, but that’s her little sibling goddammit.

A sibling she admires because of how helpful and selfless they are. Traits they possess that Rosalyn is now starting to resent.

The redhead shot a pointed look at the other redhead in the room. A look that says Rosalyn wants her questions answered. Cale responded with another eye contact that seemed to say “Later”.

“Just what-”

Cale put his hand up to stop Rosalyn from speaking. Everyone was still in the room minus _____. The redhead had sent them out as they hadn’t finished packing their things yet.

“To put it shortly, I need you all to keep an eye on _____.”

The man goes on to explain how the healer kind of lacks… common sense, for lack of a better term. It has something to do with how they were brought up. 

“We don’t need to look after them like a child. Just make sure they won’t go overboard using their abilities. No guarding them like a hound either.”

It's a no-brainer that the last part was for the visibly enraged Choi Han. He was still visibly enraged but nodded as he understood why Cale didn't want the healer to have guards as of now.

Rosalyn is sure that Choi Han is going to be overprotective of _____ in some way. Not that she blames him.

Cale went to stand up, signifying that the meeting was over. The rest followed and started filing out of the room. 

Everyone except Rosalyn.

She has questions and she’s going to get answers.

“Young master, how long have you known?”

“Since last night.”

“Were they deliberately hiding it?”

“No, they just didn’t think they could bring it up when no one was asking.”

“How are we supposed to- haaa”

“Blame their shitty family.”

On their way to the dragon’s lair, Rosalyn had a lot on her mind. Lots of puzzle pieces to put together.

Now that Rosalyn knows the full story everything started to make sense.

Made her realize just how hurt her sibling had been.

Just how much they suffered before Cale met them.

It made Rosalyn look back to some of the habits she noticed _____ has. Like how they almost seem apprehensive to talk to people in authority. How their hands and voice tremble when they thought they made a mistake. How they are so intent on healing everyone and low-key seem scared if a person’s condition is out of their jurisdiction.

How they take everything with apprehension. Like they can’t believe that they are being given things. Even when those things are basic necessities like a good plate of food. How they teared up when Raon gave them that red teddy bear from the night market. How apparently that was the first toy– no, the first thing, that they have ever received in their entire life for free. The first gift they get to indulge in.

How they are too independent for Rosalyn’s liking. How they always insist that the servants have better things to do than assist them. How they refuse to get treated when sick or injured despite them treating everyone else.

How they never speak unless spoken to first. How they will literally just stand there, bleeding and not saying a word unless they are given some sort of permission. This one frustrates Rosalyn so much. Not only does she want to hear more from the healer, but she also thinks they have so many good ideas. Before she let it go she thought they were shy, but that’s slowly going to change from now on.

How even when they were suffering from nightmares they were silent. How on one of those nights they looked more scared that Rosalyn saw them being vulnerable, as if it's a sin to have nightmares. To be vulnerable and lean on others. How on that night Rosalyn had to explain that there’s nothing wrong with asking for help after such things. How _____ nodded but seemed apprehensive. How Rosalyn knew that after that night they still suffered silently. Merely holding the mage’s hand as solace and comfort on the rare nights the healer allows themself to embrace the help presented to them.

How Rosalyn found out now that it was because _____ have been taught that since they don’t scar then they must not have pain. Since they only get a percentage of their patient’s pain then it would be arrogant and privileged of them to complain.

How they–

How–

Fuck.

Rosalyn is going to get revenge for _____. 

She’s going to make sure she gets it done one way or another.

a/n at the end: i wasn't quite sure how to get the point across that rosalyn was angry and frustrated beyond belief so I made her curse as she isn't really someone who's portrayed to curse a lot

[soobrat]

pit stop; cyj

🖊️⇝ pairing; afab, blk!reader x yeonjun

🖊️⇝ word count; 8.3k

🖊️⇝ genre; friends 2 lovers, smut, fluff, & light angst

🖊️⇝synopsis; you should probably buy a lottery ticket with how luck you are when it comes to running into celebrities... despite just moving to a new country

🖊️⇝ warnings; very cliche "forbidden love w/ an idol" trope, end is unedited, mc thirsting heavily for mingi, heat of the moment sex, PIV, unprotected sex (mc is on bc), creampie, squirting, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, slight posessiveness, mc has faux locs at one point

📜⇝ HAPPY BHM!!!!! Would you believe me if I said I started this last BHM? :D Anyways if you're not a black woman you should still read this because it slaps. It would've been even better if I managed to post during valentine's day too.

There are many things that can go wrong in a foreign country all on your own, but for your own health, you push them to the wayside. Maybe you pushed them too far because now you’re stranded with a flat tire miles away from where you’ll be staying. It’s only your first day and you already managed to fuck it up. You have to commend your ability to surprise yourself even after all these years.

You don’t have a local SIM card and your phone is completely off. You should’ve listened to the internet when they gave you a long list of how to prepare your phone when moving abroad. Now it’s useless. You laugh humorlessly as the odds continue to stack against you. Do people stop for hitchhikers in Korea?

You try anyway, you know enough Korean to give them an idea of how to help you. Many cars slow down but zero cars stop. Some even roll down their windows to stare into your eyes as they leave you stranded. You don’t have proof, but you swear one of them took a picture. You can’t be appalled by their actions, it’s not like you came from the most friendly country anyway.

“Come on, people. Just a little slack. Cut me just a little.” You murmur desperately, forcing a strained smile as you wave down another car. It’s another window roller that leaves you behind. You suppose it must be a strange sight. And maybe they’re worried you don’t speak Korean. There you go again, waving any worrying conclusions away. Don’t wanna prove your family right.

Then comes yet another car slowing down. Except, this one is slowing to a stop. It’s a flashy car, much flashier than anything you’ve seen thus far. You don’t know much about cars, but you know the person you see once the window rolls down must be well off. He peeks at you with intrigue and a bit of amusement, his sly vibe fitting for his fox-like features.

“Need help?”

You nearly collapse to your knees in relief. Not only is he stopping to help you but he can speak English so you don’t have to embarrass yourself. “Yes! My car has a flat. My phone doesn’t work, I just need car… service… people.” God, can you speak English? You’re already huffing, looking really weird to this handsome rich man and the other handsome rich man in the passenger seat. 

“Are you a MOA?” Yet another man pokes his head out from the backseat to peek at you. His eyes are critical despite their roundness. He raises his eyebrows in a way that makes you think there’s a wrong answer. Your brain is already overworked for the day so you answer honestly. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what that is.”

Assuming you can’t understand, he mumbles “leave her” in Korean and slinks back into the backseat. 

“I’ll call the car service people for you.” The driver smirks and you can tell he’s making fun of you. You just force a smile and thank the man before retreating back into your car. Shut inside the one space familiar to you feels like finally getting a moment to breathe and reflect. This is just a little hiccup. Soon you’ll be at your new home and next week you’ll be working again. 

You were consumed in a book whenever help arrives, and lifting your head, you notice that flashy car is still there.

Luckily enough, the maintenance truck had an inflated spare available and you were on your way, but not before thanking the driver. As you approach he rolls the window down again before leaning his arm on the door.

“Thank you so much, I’m not sure how long I would’ve been out here if you didn’t help me.” You sigh. You weren’t sure what you could offer him to express your gratitude, you were pretty useless as of now. 

“It’s no problem. The least I can ask for is that you don’t tell anyone you saw us here.”

You have trouble keeping a smile on your face as a hint of dread sets in. Why wouldn’t they be allowed in the countryside? Were they criminals? Is this a common location for crime?

“I know you don’t know us yet, but in case you find out from the internet, just keep this between us.”

You did not find out from the internet. You found out eight days later when you saw a cardboard cut out of the driver in the mall. Holding up a makeup product he didn’t need with a smile that almost hides the eternal mischief hidden in his expression both times you’ve seen him. This whole time you thought they were notorious criminals and you were going to get booked before you even stepped foot at home. But no, the nice car was from them being idols, not criminals.

Maybe you were a bit in the dark about k-pop idols, but why weren’t they allowed to drive around? You hold that thought, possibly forever because you had just experienced a pretty rare occurrence so early into your move.  

-🖊️⇝

Tonight was your first office party since your move. Your boss saved up to rent out a hotel venue and even scored you and your coworkers rooms for the night. Less risky without the threat of drunk driving or getting kidnapped you guess.

“I could only book the ballroom today, so I’m sorry but you can’t wander around. You can only go in this room and the floor where your rooms are located. There’s a celebrity staying here and the hotel is pretty much on lockdown.”

Your coworkers immediately get to gossiping about who’s here and all you can do is marvel at the odds. There was no way you’d be meeting another celebrity. The odds are even more unfathomable than you previously thought. You break the rules on accident, drunkenly tapping the wrong floor number. Your eyes are closed when you stumble out and run into someone tall. 

“Um, this floor is… off limits.” The man grabs you by your shoulders and holds you at arm's length. Your head lolls back and you get a good look at the guy and he, in turn, gets a glimpse of you. His jaw drops open and he looks over to the other men behind him. Your brain had been too debilitated to translate Korean. 

“Hey! Are you that girl? Flat tire?” A familiar voice rings out and snaps you from your daze and you attempt to hold your head up straight. “Yeah! Car service people!” The driver whose name you’re sure starts with a Y says excitedly. Again with the mischief, sticking its pesky little head out more confidently with the teasing nickname.

“No way it’s you guys again.” You chuckle drowsily.

“Yes way!” The blond man lets go of your shoulders.

“Are you a MOA yet?” It was the one from the backseat asking the same question yet again. It completely slipped your mind to figure out what that meant.

“I still have no idea what that is.” You flash a tight smile as he narrows his eyes at you. One of the two you haven’t spoken to yet says something frantically to the others in Korean before they all turn to look at you. 

“Hey… do you want some water?” Y approaches you, speaking almost like he’s about to sell you something. Your eyes roll back, your urge to rest almost winning the fight.

“I want to go to sleep.”

“Let’s get you some water!” The blond one says enthusiastically before ushering you into a door down the hall. They talk to each other as you gulp down a cold bottle of water, slumped in the living chair they frantically cleared for you. This would help with your hangover tomorrow anyway. After they deliberate with themselves Y turns to you.

“Is your party still happening?” He kneels before you, talking to you like a lost child.

“Yeah, I left early.”

“Great! We were gonna sneak down there ourselves, but you going back would be easier.”

“You want me to go back?” You barely swallow your water before you ask. “Yeah. All we were given was fruit. We can’t survive on fruit and the food smells so good.” He pleads with his eyes before the blond chips in. 

“Please? We’re hungry.”

Downing your second bottle, you look at them warily as your mind sobers up. “You guys are famous. Can’t you just get room service?”

“No, we’re banned from it. They told the hotel not to serve us.” The black-haired one who looks to be the tallest or close to it pipes in. Much too massive for his youthful vibe.

You look at each pair of puppy eyes incredulously. “So they’re starving you?”

Yeonjun is quick to clear the air, starting to explain again that they had fruit before Mr. MOA interrupts him. “Yes!! We’re starving!” His whining is cut off by the blond scolding him.

“What are your names?” You ask once you realize you have no idea. 

You learn each of their names and each of the food items they want brought to them. You have five styrofoam containers filled to the brim in both arms as you board the elevator. You’re aware they’re exaggerating, but concern for them still flares up. They were pretty thin, and you’ve heard whispers of their insane diets. But you do what you do best. They seem fine, and they wouldn’t have the energy they’re exhibiting currently if something was wrong.

Thankfully, no one was on there with you. That is, until you see that someone had pressed the button from your floor. You stand there awkwardly as your coworker looks at you like you have five heads. Then he sees that you’ve pressed the button for a forbidden floor.

“K-pop fan?”

You sigh, shifting the containers in your hands. “No. I’m acting as a food delivery service.”

“Ah.” He doesn’t press you, nor will he say anything. None of your coworkers are the type. The idols are waiting impatiently by the elevator when the door opens, hurriedly unloading each container.

How you ended up with five grown men in your hotel room was really a blur. Apparently their manager might walk in and bust them if they stay in their room. “We’ll be quick!” They promised.

Now Beomgyu and Kai are napping on your bed while you lean against the wall. Yeonjun’s eating whatever is left over in the living chair in the corner, smiling happily at you. 

“I love you. I could kiss you.” He manages with his cheeks full of food. 

You give him a tight smile, familiar with his habitual attempts to fluster you by now. “That’s not necessary. Your manager is probably looking for you guys.”

“Nah. We’re allowed to wander around as long as we’re in our room before 1 am. Today was our last day.” You chew on his words as he chews on the remnants of his food. He swallows hard, forcing what seems to be a painfully large chunk of food down his throat. Food seems to placate his teasing disposition, a thought that makes you cover your mouth to conceal your smirk. It takes a moment for him to recuperate before he speaks again.

"What do you wanna do right now?" He narrows his eyes, pointing his plastic cutlery at you.

You’re not sure what he means exactly, even after taking a moment to let your eyes flit around the room. So you do what you usually do, shrug and be honest. "Around this time I'd be playing some game until my eyes are painfully dry."

He halts mid container disposal to peer at you excitedly. "You play video games? Which ones?"

Finally, something you were a natural at talking about. "I like games like Minecraft or Rust, but I dabble in FPS games too-" You get caught up in one of your favorite conversation topics, surprised when Yeonjun dumps his trash quickly before marching over to you and taking your hands.

"Oh please tell me you play Valorant."

"Yeah, like I said, I dabble-"

"Okay, I'm really gonna kiss you."

“Don’t you dare-” Your words are cut off by a chaotic mixture of a gasp and laugh when he pokes his lips out, leaning in slowly. He unpuckers his lips and they settle into a smirk. The realization of how close you are to each other sets in and brings about a strong flow of energy between you two. You shake his hands off yours and shove him away, forcibly resuming your playful aura. He laughs, widening his eyes once it dies down.

“Oh, I cannot wait to kick your ass.” He points, eyes posing as a warning. You huff as you pick up a towel. You sling it over your shoulder before raising your eyebrows at him. “Is that a bet or a promise?” 

And to think if your office party was planned even a day later, you would’ve probably never seen them again. Yeonjun nabs your phone while you were in the bathroom, sticking his number in there. The first important milestone of your relationship with the boys was being added to their group chat. Then you visited their dorms and them, your apartment. You weren’t aware of the transition, you just looked up and it felt natural to be around each other.

“___’s on!” Yeonjun cheers through your headset. He pauses once you turn on your webcam. “You found a hairstylist?”

“Yeah. Turns out there are black ones here. I never knew.” You reply, half paying attention as you adjust your camera.

“I know there’s a Korean name for that style but I feel like it’s… not correct. What’s it called in English?”

“Locs! Do you like ‘em?” You comb your fingers through each loc, careful not to tug at your tender scalp. “They fit you so well I forgot how you looked before.” He says as if he’s shocked by his own accuracy.

“You’re so right. I should’ve popped out the womb with locs.” You chuckle to yourself, unable to stop playing with your hair. Yeonjun has that look on his face like he’s about to smart-mouth you. “Locs and not wounding your own teammates would’ve been really handy.” He tries to quip quickly in an attempt to fly under your radar.

Your smile is immediately wiped off your face. “It was an off day for me, how many times do we have to go over this?”

“Next time your favorite character dies don’t come online.”

“I knew I should’ve hung out with Taehyun today.” You transition from excitement to insults like it's nothing. These boys definitely make it easy.

“Yeah, whatever. Are you coming to Mingi’s party next week or do you have work.” He says as if the word itself affronted him. New names were constantly thrown at you. You took a break from researching and watching videos because it was just too much. 

“Why are you always so offended by my job? And I’ll see if I can make it.”

It makes it even harder to consume content about these idols when you think of what they go through. From these five alone, you can tell how hungry these idols are to be in this position. They put up with so much and you can’t help thinking their companies take advantage of that.

“You know, you never told me why you weren’t allowed to drive around the day we met.”

An effortless transition is made again as Yeonjun sets aside his teasing. “We have a lot of rules. Like, a lot. It’s no problem, we all knew what we were signing up for pretty much. It feels kinda pointless to go through all that work just to get in trouble, so we hold each other accountable.”

“I’m guessing that’s not counting the hotel food heist?” You bring up with a snort. It feels a little silly to make an exception for food.

“That was a small rule, and we just finished the final concert of a very tiring tour. The day we met I rented a car after a full month of grueling practice hours with little to no sleep. We were hysterical. So we took a ride.”

The boys seem alright. They’re full of life most days and with no context, you would have no idea what they’re going through. He informs you that this party is another one of those exceptions. There are secret parties thrown constantly but it was reckless to go without thorough planning. You like the thought of them getting a proper break and they really want you to come, so you do what you never do: call in fake sick to work.

But not before attempting a little research. Perhaps a different approach would help. You’re picking at scraps since you only have one internet friend who likes kpop. What if they never heard of him?

___: Y’all who is Mingi

You sent out the tweet before you went to sleep. You had just gotten your ass handed to you on Valorant so you didn’t feel like being let down that same night. You woke up to more notifications you’ve seen on all your social media accounts combined.

mingitzsong: you mean our lightskin king Malik???

That was not the tweet you expected from your friend, not by a long shot. Nor were you expecting the “my moot has a hit tweet!” DM.

Your notifications were flooded with fancams, edits, pictures– is that a video of him grabbing his…?

It was too early and you had gone too long without being satisfied by another person so this was all going to your head. You couldn’t tell if you were a stan now or just horny. You wanted him on your wall… or inside you. 

So maybe that was the real reason you were okay with lying to your boss, but it was much more touching to say it was to please your friends. 

-🖊️⇝

You enter the function excited to see the guys. Mingi too, but you were trying to seem less eager about that. You find the two youngest members first talking to a group of unfamiliar people. You try to sneak past, intending to say hi when there weren’t people to be introduced to. But alas, they saw you and you met a few idols their age. Then you run into Soobin coming out of the bathroom. “You made it!” His excited smile was ten times cuter when he was tipsy. He pulls you into a big tight hug and it’s so unlike him. He seemed to have an aversion to touching anyone when it wasn’t necessary. Drunk Soobin was unbearably adorable and it took everything in you to not stay with him and pinch his cheeks. But you needed to find the other members.

The club Mingi rented out is not ideal for finding friends. There are two floors and this is your third time walking down the stairs. You haven’t even seen the host himself yet. With his height, it shouldn’t be easy to miss him. As you walk past the large dance floor you become privy to the reason you haven’t found them. Your head naturally lowers, your eyes automatically avoiding the dancing bodies. It wasn’t your fault, your tendency to avoid large groups of people is written deep inside your DNA. It was time to stop beating around the bush, so you enter the group of dancing bodies. 

It felt like miles of grazing people despite trying your best to shrink into yourself. In the heart of the group were the three you were looking for. They were lost in the music and possibly a bit drunk. Yeonjun casts a glance to see who was approaching before wordlessly holding out his hand. You accept with exaggerated confidence, fake it ‘til you make it. It was easier than you thought to dance smack dab in the middle of the dance floor. Your focus had been locked on the tall man before you, your body on autopilot as it sways to the music. He guides you closer by your hand with undoubtedly genuine confidence sewn into his smirk. You find yourself naturally smiling, unable to shake the shyness that overcomes you. He was doing it again, but this time you took the bait and let yourself be reeled up to shore. Forced out of your comfort zone, but you couldn’t find it in you to complain.

“Who is that?” You hear a deep masculine voice say to your left. Your eyes stay glued to Yeonjun like you’re physically unable to look away, and you swear he’s having the same problem. But you eventually do. Mingi is still looking at Beomgyu until he answers, only then does he grace you with eye contact. The wind is pulled from your lungs as you gasp. You were too distracted by Yeonjun to fully bask in his glory.

“Well. Here he is in person.” Yeonjun fails to pull your attention away even when he rests his hand on your shoulder. “This is ___.”

Mingi makes a sound of understanding, nodding as he not so subtly rakes his eyes up and down your body. It takes everything in you not to shiver. He repeats your name with a small smile that makes your heart skip rope. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He bows slightly before rising with his cheeks squinting his eyes. “I’m a rapper, my group is called ATEEZ.” 

I know, you’re tempted to say. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You bow back, restraining the locs that fall over your eyes. 

“You’re… very beautiful.” His eyes fall again, taking their time coming back to your face before flashing a seductive smirk. You bite your lip, acute amounts of shame stirring with the arousal in your belly as the tension thickens in such a public space.

The members of TXT are long forgotten as you’re sat at the bar with the handsome Mingi. You talk for hours, though it’s mostly flirting and subtle invitations. As much as you can communicate with your limited Korean. You’re glad it’s gotten good enough that you can understand what he tells you next. According to Mingi, there are no restrictions in his company when it comes to doing… it. If they’re of age, they can do whoever they want to their heart’s content. As long as they’re not reckless. TXT has to plan in advance for your visits and they have three emergency escape or hide strategies just in case. That’s just for being seen with you.

There’s heat brewing between your legs. You’d be a huge liar if you said being around handsome men that you couldn’t think about touching wasn’t slightly torturous. Not even a little tipsy quicky you could pretend didn’t happen. No kissing. Hugging was even a stretch. Even if there’s a fuckload of chemistry, gotta ignore it. But this man, the same one you’ve been fantasizing about, can touch you in ways that has heat traveling throughout your entire body.

“What do you think?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrows. You agree in a way you hope doesn’t seem desperate, but in the end who cares? Not you when he leans closer, taking a moment to take in a quick breath before closing the distance. Butterflies swirl and thrash in your stomach as excitement takes over. It’s your fault the kiss escalates but you still can’t care about shame when your dreams are coming true. 

His tongue feels like heaven against yours, sinfully wet to the point where you can’t help thinking of it somewhere else. He inhales deeply through his nose and you can feel the ensuing groan in your spine.

A frantic voice pulls the two of you apart, someone talking about an emergency. He and Mingi share an exchange before Mingi looks back at you. He sighs disappointedly. “Ah, I’m sorry. Maybe next time.” He winks before being whisked away, vanishing like he did every morning when your sweet dreams slip between your fingers.

You and Yeonjun don’t see each other for the rest of the party, you stay at the bar to sulk. Yeonjun was buzzing after the brief dance you shared. Your hand was so soft, and the way you looked at him… he’d never seen that from you before. If no one had taken your attention he doesn’t know what might’ve happened. He shakes the thought away as if it were a physical intrusion. 

When you kept asking about Mingi before the party, Yeonjun thought nothing of it. You were basically clueless about the industry and he was happy to fill you in. But the way you looked at him, sure it wasn’t as loaded or intimate (or unprovocative) but you looked starstruck. It would sting a little if you didn’t become a fan from their music but from someone else’s.

Yeonjun’s body had become entirely tense, unable to dance in a carefree way after you took over his mind. There was a whole lot of conflict going on in his brain but not a lot of solutions. What does it matter? It’s not like you’re gonna stop being friends with them. You’ve given their home life a level of excitement and joy that it hasn’t reached before, and they didn’t have to train for months to receive it. All Yeonjun had to do was kick back, look over with a smile to see that you’re smiling back. 

The next time you see each other is outside the club next to their van. “Hey, you disappeared.” Yeonjun shoves his hands in his pockets before nudging you with his elbow. You glance up at him, but it’s like your neck’s made of rubber. Drunk like him, but way worse at concealing it. Soobin explains that he found you by the bar and decided to help get you home. 

In the backseat between Yeonjun and Taehyun, you’re restless. You keep whining and fidgeting until Taehyun asks you what’s wrong. “I’m just frustrated.”

Confused by this progression, Yeonjun turns toward you with a curious frown. “Did something happen with Mingi?”

“He had to leave.” You whimper before letting your head fall on Yeonjun’s shoulder. When you lift your face to look at him you’re way too close for it not to be a problem. He’s hesitant, but Yeonjun allows his face to linger in this dangerous proximity. “I’m still a little worked up.” Your eyes flit down to his lips and he gasps lightly. He casts a quick glance at his members. Taehyun was looking down into his lap, brows tight. The other members seem to be minding their own business. Getting the idea before he even looks back at you, Yeonjun’s heart flips.

When he turns his head again you scoot closer. The lights of the city whiz past, shadows obscuring your features before painting them in vibrant hues. Each aspect of your face that he tried not to think about lay before him in a way so breathtaking he can’t think straight. He usually stops himself by now out of fear that he’ll become obsessed with you. Then he feels the tip of your nose brush against his, signaling how close he is to breaching an important rule. Just then, the van passes through a tunnel, cloaking the entire vehicle in a dimmer light. His heart stills, time stills as the drowsy look wipes off your face. You pull back a bit to flash him a genuine look. As if you’re also considering this.

Yeonjun is closing in just as the van leaves the tunnel, moving fast but not fast enough.

“Hey, break it up!” A bright light is flashed in both your faces. Yeonjun squints and blocks the light, unable to pull away from you because it feels like snuffing out this flame will leave him stranded in the tundra. But Soobin sounded frantic, and he’d hate to stress out his friend and leader. So he pulls away and he’s right. It’s frigid and cold.

“What happened?” Kai sits up from his chair and glances at Soobin before peering at the back seat.

Soobin sighs, clearly hesitant to report this. “He almost kissed her.”

Their reactions vary from shocked to worried to a little frustrated. “That’s like… the biggest thing, hyung.” Soobin pleads for Yeonjun’s understanding with his eyes. Yeonjun nips at his top lip, unable to curb his embarrassment and disappointment. “I know, I know.” He sends a hand through his hair frustratedly.

You sit stiffly between the two men as Taehyun gears up to say something. All this for a kiss? One you were admittedly excited for. Still, you don’t have it in you to get angry at them. Like Yeonjun said. They worked hard for this. It’s silly to risk it all over a kiss. Even if that label makes your heart sink.

“You guys know I won’t say anything. I’m already risking getting fired over driving you here.” The driver pipes up as he casts a quick glance at the rearview mirror. 

“It’s not about that, we can’t slip up.” Taehyun finally speaks, eyes cutting at Yeonjun. “At all.”

“I said I know.” Yeonjun speaks with more conviction that raises the tension considerably. Everyone else in the car can feel it. You send nervous glances to the other three who seem to be doing the same. “It’s fine! We’ve all been drinking, so.” Kai tries, his nervous smile flickering out when he looks back. Taehyun has his jaw clenched as he stares out the window and Yeonjun is clearly pissed off.

“Exactly, let’s just drop it. Nothing happened anyway.” Soobin adds authoritatively, looking back at the two who don’t return his glance.

Everyone does as much, leaving the car unbearably quiet. When you arrive at your apartment you say quiet goodbyes to everyone including Jun who gives you a cautious and almost apologetic look. “I’ll come with you.” Soobin grunts as he stands from his seat. 

Yeonjun watches helplessly as you both exit the car and Soobin walks you to the door. He would’ve offered before the car even stopped. But this isn’t only about him. A scandal could harm the entire group.

-🖊️⇝

Five months. You haven’t been laid in five months. Then here comes this 6ft-something man with puppy dog tendencies who turns on the sex appeal like it’s nothing, stirring up your emotions to this degree. 

You tie half of your locs up before tugging two down to frame your face. You bite your lip as you take in your appearance, a little shocked at how good everything came out. “What do you think? Should I add anything else?”

Things have been a little stiffer between you and Yeonjun. You still hang out but you both can feel it looming. The chemistry. The tension. The threat of jumping each other’s bones at a moment’s notice. Yeonjun doesn’t want to drag his members down because of a rash decision. He’s not sure what’s going through your mind but he can see the conflict in your eyes.

Yeonjun considers helping you. Immediately he’d recommend a choker. It’s hard for him to quell the thoughts about how good your neck looks with a piece of fabric wrapped tightly around it. Then he would suggest going for gloss instead of lipstick, but perhaps he should stop thinking about your neck and lips while he’s ahead. Also, this is all to help Mingi. Valentine’s day has passed, but it’s a miracle if an idol is free then anyway. This is essentially their valentine’s day plans, it’s a thought that presents a lingering bitter taste in his mouth. But he knows better, so he keeps those thoughts to himself.

“Yeah, it looks good like that.” He says as plainly as he can. Like a friend should.

You turn in your chair and rest your arm on the back. He looks really tired today. You can tell it’s one of those weeks that are really beating down on him. This is the most severe you’ve seen it get with your own eyes.

“You’re usually good at helping me with my looks.” It’s true that you’re cautious as well, but if he could have one moment to not be worried about one hundred things at once, you really want it to be with you. 

“You did pretty well on your own.” His shrug does nothing to shield how disingenuous he’s being. You give him a knowing look, deciding to probe just a little. 

“You know you can take a nap on my bed while I’m gone.”

“I’m good.” He assures with a smile meant to be soft but ends up strained. “Text me if you need anything or if something goes wrong.”

No, no. That’s the last thing you need. Him needing to have his guard up around you and still being so courteous. “I have other friends that I can text. You go play video games or relax or something.”

“Oh yeah? Name someone that isn’t an idol, quickly.” His tense demeanor melts just for a second, just to poke back. You give a short, dry laugh. Knowing very well you didn’t have an answer. Non-idol friends would do you some good. You think for a moment before replying half-jokingly.

“How about I call your leader instead and tell him to come take you home.”

Yeonjun stands from the bed, walking over with a look that you recognize by now. He’s thinking about it again. Kissing you or touching you. “I wanna be here when you get back.” He’s not sure why. You’re not gonna be drinking and Mingi is a gentleman, he’ll make sure you get home safe. 

You’re acutely aware you must be looking at him the same way, which means you’re both in danger of breaking the biggest rule. He’s tired and probably unbelievably frustrated. And he wants it so bad. You can practically smell the arousal when you two get like this. Hell, you want it too. Sleeping with someone who’s been stifled for years and is finally able to let loose? The sex would be unforgettable. The thought permeates in your mind, strong enough to overshadow your habit of pushing all this to the wayside. You stand from the chair.

“Why? I’ll be alright.” You blink, unaware of how cute you look peering through your lashes. Despite his notes, you did do a great job. Fuck a choker or lip gloss, if you showed up to a date looking like this, he’d lose all ability to function.

“You look so beautiful.” He breathes out, but how genuine he is shines through. This was more intimate than the dance or the almost kiss. HIs eyes have a slight sheen as they gaze down at you earnestly.

“That means a lot, Jun. Thank you.”

Yeonjun, instead of responding, takes your shirt strap that had fallen down your shoulder in between his fingers. He slowly moves it back up, hand brushing lightly against your soft skin. You’re cold to the touch, your body being chilled by your air conditioner. How long would it be until you were properly warmed up? Too long.

“I don’t think I can handle you looking like this for someone else.” The words roll off his tongue, feeling as though someone else had said them. He looks over at your eyes from your strap, the touched shock on your face confirming that it was real. It happens quickly, the rationalization. You shut up the part of your brain urging you to run away from the conflict and tug Yeonjun closer by his shirt. His hands move to your face and the two of you linger there, either giving this a second thought or wondering if this was really happening. You lean in, feeling his breath fanning only to jerk back suddenly. Your lips brush against each other first before they finally meld, finally connecting in the way you both truly craved.

He’s so expressive, you can feel the longing, hear the pent up frustration leaving him with every heavy sigh. You chase each other’s lips instantly after each disconnect as if the kiss is providing oxygen rather than inhibiting it. There was that heat again, warming his frigid body as you wrap your arms around him and urge him closer. 

He pulls away, the impish fox you know well looking so unfamiliar. His eyes pleading and blown out, his pretty lips pink and swollen. You impatiently pull him back in and you feel the same warmth he is. Except it’s burning you up. Both of you feel like you’re being swallowed by a large flame as your tongues circle each other. He lets out a wanton moan that has your core clenching. “Taste so good.” His voice is nearly inaudible, murmured between kisses.

Pushing your straps down your arms, he undoes his recent action. He pushes your dress over your breasts but he’s too consumed by the kiss to look down. His hands envelope the flesh held by your bra as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Things are escalating quickly but you grow frustrated that he isn’t inside you already. You’ve both waited long enough.

“Fuck me, please.” You beg, eyebrows slanting as you let your pride go for just a moment. You reach down and tug at the waistband of his sweats, feeling a little justified as he returns your desperation with his eyes. With his hands kneading your breasts and your fingers clenching his pants you stare into each other’s eyes. No words exchanged but you each understand loud and clear that you need each other. Bad. As his face draws closer you try again. “Fuck me.” You whisper as he nuzzles your nose. 

You’re begging for it but Yeonjun can’t decide how he wants you first. He shuts his eyes and imagines your body bent in half, your as lifted into the air. Presented just for him. His cock throb and he squeezes your breast. Your ensuing moan almost pushes him to throw you onto the bed. But then he imagines the moonlight bleeding through the curtains and painting your body. The lights of the cars that speed past illuminating your umber tinted nipples that perk up nice and hardened for him.

The fantasy draws more and more saliva onto his tongue that rolls off onto yours. Your tongues tangle in a horny mess. If anyone saw what the two of you were doing they’d probably be confused, but both of your faces are scorching and the spaces between your legs are throbbing. Yeonjun is on his tenth fantasy on how he wants to pose you when he starts whimpering. You grab his crotch and return the squeeze he’s been giving your breasts. He finally unlatches from your lips to toss his head back, letting out the loudest moan of the evening. You kiss down his throat, feeling the vibrations of his pretty sounds. It’s taking every atom inside your body to not bite and suck, instead you ghost your teeth over his supple skin. 

As his moans transition to groans and growls his actions become more rough. He grabs your wrist to keep your hand steady as he grinds into it. His nails pierce your breast and it’s your turn to whimper. He yanks your hand off of him and moves his own to your waist, finally guiding you over to the bed. In every fleeting fantasy he had there was one thing either missing or integral. The very look on your face you have now as he’s moving over you. Your dark eyes are so doe-like yet so sinful. They yearn for him, yet dare him. 

The taking off of your clothes is agonizingly slow. It doesn’t matter that you’re both rushing to the point that you almost rip each other’s shirts. It’s still torturous. His long cock bobs as he repositions himself, a drop of precum dribbling from his tip and shining in the light. His nails dig into you yet again as your legs are hoisted on either side of your head. Every time he grips so forcefully you wish he’d do it harder, squeeze you until you fuse together.

You get as close as you can to that wish when his tip cards between your lips. You jolt, surprised by your own sensitivity. Yes, it’s been a long time, but it’s not that. Your clit and lips are so swollen that they ache. You feel like your molten juice will pour out of you at any moment. You hold your legs in place as Yeonjun lowers onto his forearms, bringing his face closer to yours. You’ve already stuck your tongue down his throat and gripped his cock, but there’s something strangely intimate about his bangs brushing against your forehead. He watches you intently as he slowly pushes in. You gasp, as if the heat radiating off his cock is actually singing you as he slides in. 

Yeonjun releases his lip from his teeth as a deep groan forces its way out from the depths of his core. Your pussy swallows him whole, so devastatingly wet that it coats your outer lips and coaxes him in with ease. The urge to crack a window, shove the comforter and sheets off the bed, anything to quell the overwhelming heat is a fleeting thought for the both of you. It’s quickly replaced by the gnawing need to feel every part of each other. To get deep. Yeonjun arches his back and pushes his hips in until you’re yelping and your hips buck uncontrollably.

Then something snaps and a rhythm takes over Yeonjun’s body. His hips snap toward yours at the perfect pace that has you clawing down his back. You feel his skin under your fingernails. 

Your hips desperately chase after him, fingers fumbling over your achy clit. It’s a blurred frenzy that neither of you can completely process as real. Your brains are turned off anyway, blindly chasing pleasure and that orgasm so sweet your teeth go numb at the thought.

The height of the pleasure makes each pump of his cock maddening. It’s so good you both almost want it to stop. The pleasure spikes higher, making your moans peak in pitch. Your grip falters on your thighs as your legs start to quake. 

“I can’t– I can’t!” Your mumbles are nearly incoherent between your shrieky whimpers. A knot squeezes so tight in your lower belly it feels like a large, heavy ball. Yeonjun grits out moans as his eyebrows furrow. The pleading look is so sexy, the desperation in his voice. His fucking cock is inside you. It’s so deep inside you.

“C-cumming!” Your thighs slip from your hands as a violent tremor sweeps through your body. The knot snaps and you feel hot liquid spewing from your cunt. Yeonjun fucks through the pressure, sharp profanities shoot off his tongue. He claws at your thighs and his thrusts transition to slow and punishing. The myriad of noises flooding from your lips don’t lower in intensity. The pleasure barely plateaus and you’re right back in the trenches. 

“Fuck! Yeonjun, fuck!” You squeal. His hand crawls up from between your breasts to your throat. “You’re taking it so well, you’re perfect.” His voice cracks, the sincerity in his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“You’re so, so perfect.” His body drops closer to yours, his voice tickling against your ear. His thrusts pick up with his fractured moans. You can tell just how much is being released as he fucks you. It’s just as magical as you imagined, watching him let loose like this. But the twitch in his brow bothers you. His muscles are tight, his shoulders tense. You let out a serene sigh.

“Let it all out, Junnie.” You run your hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles loosen under your fingers. His eyes flutter shut, mimicking your serene sigh. He doesn’t get to rest for long. The conflict wracking his body this time is different. His cock is twitching inside you.

Your clumsy hands travel all over his shoulders, neck, and land on his face. His hips start to fracture from their rhythm and his face occasionally pinches. You caress him, wanting to bottle up the version of him that’s close to cumming. 

You press a tender, wet kiss to his lips. “Cum inside me.”

It doesn’t occur to you that he has no clue you’re on birth control. So when the most guttural moan erupts from his chest it catches you off guard. His hips grind down against yours, his cock throbbing as it pumps you even fuller. Your sweaty bodies stay like that for a moment, not long enough for your sensitivity to wane. He pulls out, unplugging your hole for all the fluids to flow out.

His cock is heavy against your clit, so heavy that it triggers your sensitivity. You close your legs around him and turn your head into your pillow. He flows you, planting a long kiss on your lips as he grinds his cock into your mound. 

“Jun,” you tap at the mattress, the excruciating pleasure taking you to another planet. 

“I love your pussy.” He finally pulls away and the rigidity of your body eases. You let out a shaky breath, eyeing him as moves down your body. He glances up at you with his mouth hovering over your tired pussy. “It’s mine.” His eyes flutter shut as he kisses your mound wetly. A sharp moan rockets out of you. Your head shoots backward and your thighs threaten to close around him. That was just the teaser.

His tongue delves in to scoop out his and your essence. You’re in awe of the dirtiness of his actions and the lengths he’s willing to push you. All while staring you right in the eyes. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you push at his head.

He hums before lifting away. “You want me to stop?”

“N-no!” You reply instantly, a laugh bubbling out of both of you. It was ridiculous at this point. Yeonjun curls his tongue inside of you until he’s satisfied with how clean he got you. He lifts up, giving only a glimpse of his sullied face before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He crawls back up and you groan. 

“No, we’re both gross, don't lay back down.”

He grumbles ‘give me an hour’, making you both laugh. It’s comforting, a crackling fire lulling you both to sleep.

You gasp loudly, shooting upright.

“Mingi!”

-🖊️⇝

If only you hadn’t done that. The vibes after the sex were immaculate. Now things are tense again as Yeonjun gets you ready to meet with Mingi. His hands run over your sudsy body, making sure you’re squeaky clean. He helps you with your bra, even helps you pick out a new outfit. When all is said and done, you’re back to looking at each other through the mirror. He sighs.

“Go ahead and text him you’re ready.”

You pull your phone out, finding you’re just flipping it over in your hands instead of unlocking it. You chew on your lip, your heart beating so intensely it’s debilitating. 

“I’m ready.” You rush out, thinking for a moment before turning to actually look at him. Yeonjun breathes a laugh with a smirk.

“I said tell him, not me.”

“Why? You’re my date.” Your smile beams brighter than you mean it to. It’s all fine because he returns its luminosity. 

“I’m down for that. I’m too fatigued to go anywhere, though.”

“I know, I really tuckered you out didn’t I?” You cock an eyebrow at him, doing your best impression of a sly fox you know.

“Okay, but who made who squirt?”

You shove him, making him chuckle as he catches himself. You quickly leave the bedroom, turning to shout back at him. 

“I’m watching the movie without you.”

He chases after you and you just barely evade him to sit on the cough first. He dives next to you, snuggling up close and nuzzling his forehead into yours. It’s something he used to do to annoy you, and though you’re tonguing your cheek, your heart is fluttering. 

You watch the rest of the movie hugging his arm with your head on his shoulder. As the credits roll, is the first to talk in thirty minutes.

“It was always gonna be us.” Yeonjun chuckles. “We both knew it from the moment in your hotel room. Fuck it, I might’ve thought about it when I first saw you.”

You crane your head to look at him, his sharp eyes already on you. There’s a softness to them.

Multiple fists thundering against your door makes you both jump. 

“Open up! Yeonjun has been here for way too long!” Identifying Soobin’s voice dulls the alarm bells blaring in both your heads.

Yeonjun trudges over to let them in, sulking back to the couch as the four younger book it past him. Beomgyu launches himself on the couch and asks what “we’re” watching. Kai is close behind, snatching the remote before Beomgyu could even think to grab it. They argue over that as Soobin sits down, rubbing his temples. He sinks into the couch as you sit beside him. You can feel Yeonjun’s warmth on your left and you bite your lip trying to ignore it. 

“And just what were you doing here all alone?” Soobin’s eyes slowly pan over to the two people sitting suspiciously close to each other. You both shrug, mumbling something about movies and ice cream.

Taehyun sighs, squeezing his ass in between the both of you until you’re forced to part. You just roll your eyes, ignoring it for now. The movie watching experience with these five was always chaotic. Chaotic enough that you and Yeonjun could sneak glances at each other with no one noticing. The noise dissipates as you get lost in each other’s eyes. You both smile.

[hopelesslyromanticgay]

An Americano Please? PT. 1

Word count: about 500 words Summary: Jenna wants a coffee, Y/N is the only barista at her cafe who speaks English.

A/N: Italicized text within quotation marks means whoever is speaking is talking in Romanian.

Y/N's POV:

Sleep. Eat. Brew Coffee. Repeat.

That was all my life was. Sometimes I would deviate from this schedule, going on dates, seeing a new movie, making or spending time with friends, but normally my day had the same four steps. Little did I know this was all about to change.

Let me be clear, I didn't mind the simplicity. It's a small town that I live in, located in Zamora district of Bușteni, Romania. The only reason for new people to come by is the occasional visit to Cantacuzino Castle. I like that it's quiet here.

It's a Sunday morning, I'm enjoying the gentle breeze as I'm walking to work.  The vibrant Autumn leaves swaying with the wind. Eight O'clock and the town is just beginning to wake up.

The bell attached to the door rings loudly when I enter the workplace. Immediately the warm slightly scents of coffee, cinnamon, and baked goods waft through the brisk autumn air.

The Café is bustling with activity when I get there. It's the morning, and civilians want their coffee.

"Morning, L/N," my boss greets me, "put on an apron and get to work."

I swiftly don the apron and take my colleague John's spot at the counter.

People swarm to the register, ordering everything from drip coffee to cortados, lattes, and iced dirty chais.

Every shift here is pretty similar. Romanian's not my first language, but I'd say I feel confident in my ability to communicate with it.

I must have served a hundred customers before anything even slightly noteworthy starts happening.

The bell softly jingles and someone I've never seen before comes through the door. She's shorter than the average customer. I can't get a good look at her face before yet another customer asking for a drip coffee or something.

"L/N, this one's for you," my coworker gestures to the girl I saw come in earlier, "good thing ya know English."

Well, I can't argue with that. I wave the girl over to me

"Hey, welcome to the Café, my name's Y/N. What can I get for ya today?" it's not that I catch my first good glimpse at the girl. She has long black hair, clearly darkened by dye, with wispy bangs lightly caressing her freckled face.

"Hi, I'm Jenna, nice to meet you," she replies with a distinctly American accent, "what do you recommend?"

I stop to think, cracking a smile.

"Well, I'd have to say. I think an Americano would go great with your... American-ness," I laugh.

She giggles, "what gave it away? The not knowing Romanian, or the accent."

"Does it really matter?" I chuckle, "anyhow, what do you usually order at a coffee shop?"

"I'll just take a cold brew, no milk or sugar."

"One cold brew coming right up," I smile, going over to the ice machine, filling the cup with ice and then cold brew.

"Thank you so much," she smiles sweetly.

"I'm here every morning if you ever need someone to take your order," I reply.

"I might just take you up on that," she smirks, walking off with her cold brew after paying.

This was my most interesting shift so far this past week.

Little did I know, this would not be the last interesting shift I'd end up having.