#did i spell it right without checking?

[calebpups]

PAIRINGS. . . xavier, caleb, sylus, zayne, rafayel x reader

CW. . . wearing pheromone perfume around them for the first time.

CALEB

caleb went still the second he hugged you, like he’d just gotten hit with something intoxicating. he pulled back just a little, blinking at you, then leaned in again, burying his face in your neck.

“holy sh—pips,” he groaned dramatically, arms wrapping tighter around your waist. “you smell like heaven and sin had a baby.”

you burst out laughing. “you’re so dramatic.”

he just nuzzled you again, lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “i’m serious. i want to crawl under your skin right now.”

you swatted at his arm, flustered. “it’s just perfume!”

“whatever it is, it’s a problem.” he kissed your jaw, then lower. “'cause now i wanna kiss you for, like, three hours straight. minimum.”

RAFAYEL

he was painting—focused, shirtless, streaks of color on his arms—when you crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

he stilled.

then he turned his head slightly, inhaling, like a wolf catching a scent in the wind.

“did you just cast a spell on me?”

you bite back a smile as he ducked down, nosing along your neck, groaning softly. he slinged an arm around your waist pressing you to his side.

“delicious. is that new?”

you just smirked. “wouldn’t you like to know.”

he laughed under his breath, mouth finding your neck, your shoulder, wherever he could get. “if you wore this to mess with me, it’s working. i want to paint you now. naked, preferably.”

SYLUS

you barely walked past him before sylus turned his head, eyes narrowing like he just picked up on something forbidden.

he stepped closer, towering over you, his hand curling gently under your chin. “...you smell dangerous,” he said lowly, his voice already laced with heat.

he tilted your head up, heart fluttering as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against the back of your ear. he moved lower, lips grazing your neck, then the space just under your jaw.

“what is that scent?” he murmured, like it was bothering him. like it was consuming him.

“do you like it?”

he huffed a soft laugh against your skin, kissing your throat like he was losing control. “you’re not allowed to wear it around anyone but me. understood?”

XAVIER

you slipped under the covers beside him, thinking he was asleep. he wasn’t.

the second your body curled into his, his arm came around your waist, slow and sure. he inhaled once, then again.

“…what is that?” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. he buried his face in your neck without waiting for an answer.

you giggled and his arm only tightens around you.

“not funny,” he mumbled, lips brushing your throat. “you smell like trouble.”

“you’re imagining things.”

“i’m not.” he kissed your collarbone, again and again, slower. “we’re not leaving this bed today.”

ZAYNE

you stepped into zayne’s office for your monthly check-up, but the second you approached his desk, he looked up like you’d just walked in wearing nothing but your birthday suit.

before you could sit at your usual chair, his hand found your wrist and guided you into his lap instead.

he didn’t say anything, just leaned in and breathed you in like he needed the scent to live.

“…what did you put on?” he asked, lips brushing the underside of your jaw. “you’ve never smelled like this before.”

you pretended to play dumb. “what do you mean?”

he exhaled a low chuckle, his voice raspier than usual. “don’t play with me. this—this is lethal.”

then he kissed your neck, slow and open mouthed. “fuck, you’re gonna get me fired.”

masterlist ⋆˚꩜ send me a kofi !

[444lotus]

how i manifested (+revised) my dream body ౨ৎ

This is my first post on my new account, though I am NOT new to the law and NOT new to loablr either. This post is specifically about how I manifested my dream body instantly with no technique besides knowing :)

PART ONE - the old story

In the old story, I was so fixated on my body and my weight all of the time, I was tracking my calories and weighing myself and my food obsessively and constantly gaining and losing weight. Back then, my beliefs were that 1) Excess food causes weight gain, 2) If I don't track my food and weigh myself, I will become too fat/skinny, and 3) There is something wrong with my body, and I need to diet/exercise to fix it.

Noticing these beliefs were key to changing the way I viewed food and my body, and therefore changing how I knew food to effect me and how I knew my body to be.

When I was overweight, I knew my body was too big, I knew I was eating too much, I knew excess calories made me gain weight. When I was underweight, I knew I had no appetite, I knew I was too bony, I knew that exercise makes you gain muscle which is why I had none, etc. I had to identify the limiting beliefs that made me know my body was a certain way.

PART TWO - writing the new story

Once I identified the beliefs that were holding me back and kept me from my goals ("I know I eat too much, even if I affirm I'm skinny, I'm still going to gain weight."), I could then change them. I wrote down a list of these beliefs, like I did above, and came up with reversals. For example;

"I overeat, so I will gain weight" -> "Calories aren't even real, so I can eat whatever I want and stay the same weight."

"I eat junk food, so I'll never be skinny" -> "I love how fast my metabolism is, I can eat junk all day and still stay so skinny." or "Junk food is just like other foods. Raspberries can't make me fat so neither can hamburgers."

"I don't exercise enough to be toned" -> "It's crazy how I'm naturally so toned and fit without trying."

The key for me was changing key beliefs that kept me dieting and exercising to lose weight, to sever the tie between calories consumed and weight, and hours exercising and muscles. These are limiting beliefs. We literally create our reality. Not ice cream, not soda and chips, none of that can overcome YOU as a divine creator. It sounds silly when you spell it out like that, doesn't it?

PART THREE - how i did it

Okay, now we understand that the secret is to change the rules of our own reality to allow us to know a higher truth (my higher truth? I am a skinny legend). So how do we put this into practice?

All you have to do is know. You set these rules, so you know they are true, reality is bound to them. You must know you are successful, know that reality is in the 4d, and feel truly satisfied in that realm. You can do this using whatever method you need to, but personally, I just knew deep within me that I was my ideal weight, and that nothing could change that, that is simply the reality, that is simply the way things are. I thought about old pictures I took of myself, and remembered how skinny I looked in them, I thought about the last time I saw my friends and how much littler they said I'd gotten, I thought about the last time I stood on the scale and how it read the exact weight I knew myself to be. And I just knew, deep within me, that was simply how things were.

And the last step, for me, was to feel truly joyful at this realization. To feel satisfied it came into fruition. Without seeking confirmation, because I already KNEW.

And what do you know? Pictures of myself in my phone from weeks ago, they were my ideal body. The girl I saw in the mirror when I stood up from my meditation? She had my ideal body. My clothes? XS and S, all of them. I had revised my ideal body all the way back to the day I bought them. And confirmed this by checking pictures I took in the dressing room.

I'm telling you right now it is possible if you know in your heart you've always had your desire. It's always been fulfilled within you. You make the rules because you are a divine creator. Nothing outside of you can change what you know to be true.

That's all for now ౨ৎ

[c0ffeejelly1]

When you don’t say I love you back.

Multiple characters headcannon

Authors note: this is not spelling checked, grammar checked, punctuation checked so don’t come at me. I’m lazy.

Warnings: NSFW Content (kinda)

“Shit..babe!” He boomed to you across from the empty kitchen cabinet, before closing it to quickly put on some slides.

“I’ve gotta head out to the shop down the road for a quick minute, we’re outta snacks to eat with the movie.”

“Oh okay, see you later then, and don’t worry I won’t start the film without you..”

“You better not. Anyways bye, I love you.”

“Yeah.”

The type to walk back in and question it

He didn’t notice that you didn’t reply to him until he had closed the door behind him. That’s when it came to him.

Immediately after the door shut, he ripped it wide open again a confused and offended look on his face, as he stared down at you on the couch. “Babe.”

You turned to face him, an innocent expression painting your features. “Yeah? You forget something?”

“I think you’re the one forgetting something..” You glance around faking a puzzled look before returning your gaze to him,

“No...I don’t think I did. What are you talking about?” He was now crossing his arms at you, a disappointed look on his face.

“Y/N.” Yikes, he’s going first name bases with you; he was not playing around. It was a little funny to watch him react like this though, because you could see the small pout on his face despite the scowl he was presenting to you.

“Yes handsome?” You say mockingly wanting to see how far you could take this.

“Why didn’t you say it back?”

“Say what back?”

“y’know what I’m talking about.“

“Do I?”

“…”

You better kiss him now that you’ve made him sad.

Characters: MIDORIMA, kagami, giyuu, jean, kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, osamu, Ushijima, NANAMI, geto, LUCIFER, diavolo, todoroki, Iida. (Anyone you like)

The type to not process it until AFTER they’ve bought the snacks

It was while he was tapping his card to the register that he himself also registered-

“Wait a damn minute.”

He’s rushing his ass back home, the distant yell that he dropped his snacks, left unheard from the poor cashier.

When he arrives home though..

“So..” he starts, falling back onto the couch with you. “You know you're the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met right?” He tries buttering you up a bit in hopes it’ll get you in a ‘good mood’.

“You’re just so SO beautiful, that every time I look at you there are only hearts in my eyes..y’know that right? Right baby?..” you only nod your head trying to stop the smile forming on your face.

“I just.. love you so much y’know?”

“Thank you.”

“Baby, I love you.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I. Love. You.”

“Why do you keep repeating that?”

“You’re gonna make me cry.”

You say it back to him once he starts tickling the hell outta you.

Characters: dimple, REIGEN, KISE, rengoku, connie, armin, NISHINOYA, HINATA, OIKAWA, choso, gojo, MAMMON, DENKI. (Anyone you like)

The type to give you a dirty look and repeat it again LOUDER.

“..bitch.”

“Are you not gonna say it back?” Is what he would say to you, but instead he only resorted to giving you a not so…pretty look.

You knew damn well what you were doing. He’s no fool to you and your pranks, but that still didn’t explain the reason why he continued trying to make you say it back.

“Let’s try this again.”

“…” You give him a neutral look, a small smile dying to crack onto your lips.

“Bye, I LOVE you.” He tried emphasising the love part making sure you would get the hint of what he was waiting on.

“Mhm..yeah, now go buy the snacks I’m hungry.” Are you trying to get yourself killed? This is not the type of guy you should be fooling around with this kinda stuff.

“I’m not going anymore” he walks away from the door before striding over to you.

“What? Why? H-hey! What are you doin-” he grips onto your waist before hosting you onto his shoulder.

“Gotta find out why my girls being so stubborn, so what better way than..”

That’s how you ended up here, hands tied behind your back, and a blindfold on, all your senses focused on only him and the distant sound of the TV.

Every time he would say he loved you, If you didn’t reply back to him fast enough the restraints would stay on for an extra minute while he went ahead and watched the movie without you.

“I love you.” Jesus, you could practically feel the devious smirk he had on his face.

“I. Love. You. Too.” You reply with a small hiss through clenched teeth. He only chuckled at your tone giving you a slight pat on your head. “Bet you won’t try this again huh?”

He’s sleeping on the couch.

Characters: AOMINE, SANEMI, eren, UKAI, IWAIZUMI, tendou, ATSUMU, toji, satan, solomon, bakugou. (Anyone you like)

The type to immediately start apologising for no reason

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll never do it again.”

He doesn’t even open the door before he’s on his knees looking up at you for some hint that you weren’t angry at him. “Please say something..”

The reason you obviously couldn’t say anything at that moment was because you just didn’t expect him to go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness for who knows what-

“Look I know this must be about eating the takeout and only leaving the empty bowl behind to make it look as though I didn’t- and this obviously must also be about me stealing your shirt and accidentally using it as a washcloth- or maybe it’s the underwe-”

“OKAY!” You yell putting both your hands in front of his face rendering him confused, “I-I get it! Okay..”

he only cocks his head to the side moments before his face drops when you tell him it was a prank.

“Oh..it is?..”

“Yeah…”

“So you still love me?”

“Very much.”

…

“..wait- what did you do with my underwear?”

He’s gone silent.

He’s getting up.

He’s walking away.

He’s running now.

“Wha- Hey! Come back here!”

“Gotta buy the snacks now, bye!”

This man is NOT as innocent as he looks.

Characters: serizawa, tengen, REINER, kuroo, BOKUTO, LEVIATHAN, Asmodeus. (Anyone you like)

[pieandflannel]

₊˚⊹♡ body swap pt.2 👥

₊⊹ ʚ ₊⊹｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡˚ ₊⊹｡ ₊⊹ ୨♡୧ ⊹₊ ｡⊹₊ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡⊹₊ ɞ ⊹₊

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: what’s the first thing you do when you wake up in dean’s body? the clear obvious.

cw: 18+ smut, slightly comical, pwp, exploration of the male body, male masterbation, you match dean’s perviness (jk you’re worse), you jerk it while in his body, cum tasting, you catch dean playing with himself in your body.

word count: 1295

julia yaps: i tried my best but i don’t have a pp so i’m sorry if this is bad, you guys were begging for part two so here it is.

please read part one first!

────────── ୨ৎ ──────────

you get woken up by a weird feeling while sleeping on your stomach, as if you were laying on something long and stiff. you let out a little groan as you lift your head up to check the time, seven thirty in the morning was way too early for you to be awake so you rolled your eyes. “what the hell” you murmured before reaching under yourself to check what it was that was poking you.

at first you thought you must have fallen asleep on your sex toy but as you tried pulling it out from underneath you, you were rudely awakened by pain. “ouu fuck what the hell” you hissed before sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

your eyes widened as you notice you weren’t in your bed, and that you were looking down at a bulge in not your hot dog pjs. at first you were so confused, wondering why on earth would you be dreaming about something like that, but as your brain started waking up and catching up with reality, it all hit you. the god damn witch. what a fucking bitch. you must have swapped bodies with dean after yesterdays failed hunt.

you couldn’t help your curiosity, you gently poked at the bulge before hooking your fingers under the waistband and slowly peaking inside, honestly the gasp you let out could’ve woken china up.

“oh. my. god..” you gasped, your lips parted and eyes widened. there was a dick, a big dick attached to your body. well, dean’s body. well actually.. he is the owner of this dick so like- okay okay focus. there is a big hard cock in your pj pants.

but lord did it look mouth watering, no wonder dean was popular with the ladies, i mean come on, not too big but definitely not small, girthy and with the perfect amount of veins, the tip blushing pink with pearly precum leaking out, it was practically begging to be touched.

you carefully looked around the room, god were you crazy to want to try and touch it? you let out a sigh as you laid back down on the bed. this was wrong wasn’t it? dean is your friend and he wouldn’t want you to be touchi- okay that’s probably a lie, but the point still stands. it was wrong. like hello, privacy.. right?

that’s why it felt even more tempting to try. but come on you won’t be walking around with a hard on for hours, before you and dean figure out a reverse spell for this it’ll take a day if not more, plus you’ve heard somewhere before that guys just jerk off to get rid of it and that’s all. no big deal right? you’re helping yourself help dean, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

you put the palm of your hand on the bulge through the clothing, gently palming yourself. it felt.. nice, but also weird. obviously much different from a coochie.

the little devil on your shoulder tempting you to slide down the pjs and just play with it, you bit your lip thinking it through, dean will probably play with your boobs when he wakes up so.. ehh fuck it, he doesn’t need to know.

you hooked your fingers onto the waistband again and slowly pulled the pjs down till the knees, the girthy cock springing free, you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the delicious view between your legs. you couldn’t lie, dean’s cock was gorgeous.

without wasting much more time, you wrapped your hand around the cock, thumb spreading the precum all over the tip like it was lube.

which reminded you, you probably need lube. you reached into dean’s night stand drawer, searching for any bottle of lube, because let’s be real here he definitely has a lot.

“aha!” you let out as you managed to find a nearly empty bottle. this man’s been busy huh? can’t blame him honestly.

you squirted some of it on your hand and went back to business. you circled your thumb over the tip, fuck that felt so good. so so good, but you were impatient, so it didn’t take you long before starting to slide your hand up and down the shaft, slowly. dean’s hand looked so pretty as it was wrapped around his cock.

you tried feeling out every inch and detail, you eyes roaming around and exploring the lower body, the small pudge of a belly dean has was honestly a turn on, the vein that decorated his left hip looked so kissable. “fuck..” you whimpered as you sped up, gently squeezing your hand around the tip.

your breath growing heavier as you jerked yourself off, i wonder if he’d let me do it once we are back in our bodies, you thought to yourself.

the pace of your hand quickening without much thought, it felt too fucking good, your mind was going foggy from the pleasure that invaded every nerve in your body. you felt pressure building in the lower abdomen region.

you let out another whimper, your chest rising and falling as you were so close to the edge. “fuck i’m about to cum..” you moaned out before strings of white started shooting all over your hand and abdomen.

you kept on pumping your hand, trying to ride out the climax to the fullest. your breath heavy as your body tensed up before relaxing. you let your head fall back on the pillow for a second before looking down at the mess you’ve left. the head of the cock throbbing.

all this pearly white droplets, it would be such a waste to just clean it all up with a tissue, you thought to yourself. you let go of the slowly softening cock and lifted your hand up to your mouth, contemplating for a second if it would be weird trying the cum on your hand.

you shrug it off though and don’t think much of it, sticking your tongue out and licking the semen off your hand. it tasted quite salty, but then again that’s a bit obvious considering what dean’s diet consists of.

after you got your breath back you cleaned yourself up with the tissues from the nightstand and pulled your silly little hot dog pjs back up and headed out the door, down the hallway in the direction of your room, hoping to find dean in your body.

as you stood in front of the door you heard faint moans and a vibrating sound, your eyes widened “oh my god..” you whispered to yourself, he’s not- is he? you stepped a bit closer to the door, your ear gently resting against the wood trying to pick up on more noise, the moans continued.

dean found your bunny vibrator, that’s for sure. a sudden idea lit up in your brain and a smirk grew on your face. you grabbed the door handle and without knocking you opened the door, making dean jump and pull the toy out. “whoa hey do you knock?!” he spoke in your voice, it was odd to hear your own voice like that.

“well this is my room dean” you smirked, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “and that is my toy you’re using”

you tilted your head slightly as you caught a glimpse of a completely different angle of your coochie. “wow my pussy looks so pretty from this angle” you couldn’t stop yourself from complementing.

you walked into the room and closed the door behind you, locking it and slowly stepping closer towards dean in your body, on your bed, your toy in his hand. “i see curiosity got the best of you… need some help with that?” you offered with a smirk.

here is part three

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @bruisedfig @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @cupidzbunny @sunnyteume @mrsanakinwinchesterpoldark @krabog

𑁥౿ check out my masterlist for other works!

♡ see this post to be added to the taglist!

© pieandflannel – do not plagiarise or repost any of my work!

© reserved for photo/gif owners!

[l4ndoflove]

simp...ly lovely

feat. max verstappen

lyrics you: a worldwide renowned singer. max: four-time f1 world champion... and apparently your biggest fan?

maddie corny title, corny faceclaim, definitely corny concept, but i had SO MUCH fun writing it (if you want more smaus, send in your ideas!)

faceclaim @.lalalalisa_m

ynofficial

❤️ 3.8M 💬 18.2K

liked by tatemcrae, oliviarodrigo, maxverstappen1 and others

ynofficial singapore was UNREAL tonight. thanks to every single one of you for making it possible, i love u all <3 (still can't believe this was the last show tbh, miss u already)

asia tour over for now, see you guys soon xx

comments

tatemcrae ATE

ynofficial you can't spell ate without tate

❤️ by tatemcrae

user1 MOTHERS

user2 their friendship is my roman empire

user3 collab when???

user4 yn x t8 would be the end of me

oliviarodrigo prettiest girl everrrrr 💞

ynofficial back at you liv 💞💞💞

user5 AWWW

spotify our favorite pop princesses 💕

❤️ by ynofficial and oliviarodrigo

user6 prettiest besties alive fr

user7 the matching heart emojis 🥹

user8 people need a ynolivia tour ASAP

user9 i am people people is me

user10 YES PLEASE 💳💥💳💥💳💥

user11 the duality of woman

user12 i swear like how is that the same person

user13 good girl 🫦 vs good girl 😚

user14 LITERALLY

user15 if girlhood is a spectrum was a person:

user16 "miss you already" JUST ADD NEW DATES???

ynofficial working on it 🫶

user16 oh

user17 LMAO IT ACTUALLY WORKED

user18 @.user16 the hero we deserved 👏

user19 wait so new dates actually confirmed!?

user20 omg chill she didn't say anything yet

user21 BODY. IS. TEA.

user22 outfit too 🙂‍↕️

user23 don't forget the makeup!

user24 am i the only confused f1 fan here or

user25 NO BECAUSE SAME

user26 so we're all seeing max in the likes right

user27 apparently

user28 max verstappen being part of the yn fandom was not on my 2025 bingo card

user29 are we sure he didn't like this by accident 😭

user30 that sounds like something he would do yes

user31 i hate to break it to you but he's been at it for the past three weeks

user32 guys he liked ALL her tour posts

user33 SIMPly lovely huh?

user34 LOL BYE

user35 plot twist is plot twisting

f1 and ynofficial

❤️ 3.2M 💬 38.9K

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

f1 coming soon... @.ynofficial 🎤✨️

05.04.25 | 21:00 utc

#japanesegp

comments

user36 who is this and why is she on my fyp

user37 what about focusing on the race instead? just a thought

user38 and the earth kept spinning

user39 world before: 🌍 world after: 🌍

user40 no one asked 😍

user41 YN STANS HOW ARE WE FEELING ABOUT THIS

user42 f1 fan here, i have no idea who she is and i couldn't care less

user43 okay?

user44 this is exactly why f1 "fans" scare me

user45 anyways I'M SO EXCITED AAAHH

user46 me too! i missed her tour but i bought tickets to the race so now i get both... 🫠

user47 ugh you're so luckyyyyy

user48 f1 x yn fans living their best life rn

user49 OH THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GOOD

user50 face card never declines 🛐

user51 🔥🔥🔥

user52 mommy 🥵

user53 if this is an april fools' joke it's not funny

user54 PLS IT HAS TO BE REAL

user55 🕯manifesting hard🕯

user56 may our prayers be answered 🙏

user57 🍀🍀🍀

user58 you're not normal

user59 why is everyone in the comments so mad 💀

user60 fr like get a life

user61 forget everything the dutchman did it again

user62 he's so real for that

user63 DUDUDUDU HE'S DOWN BADDD

user64 the real question now is can suzuka handle these two goats

f1 guess we'll see 😉

user65 SCREAMING

ynofficial

❤️ 6.8M 💬 40.4K

liked by f1, maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo and others

ynofficial quali now, sound check later 🥂🏁

comments

oliviarodrigo babe you're GLOWING

ynofficial it's the suzuka weather ☀️

f1 keep an eye out for our next pole sitter 👀

ynofficial on it 🫡

❤️ by maxverstappen1

user66 *insert leonardo dicaprio gif here*

user67 BRO THOUGHT WE WOULDN'T NOTICE

user68 he's so confident he'll get pole 😭

user69 he will just for her 🗣🗣🗣

user70 stay delulu folks ✊️😔

ynofficial i believe in him 🙃

user71 WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM

user72 i'm already way too invested in their dynamic

user73 new ship to obsess over unlocked

user74 now my life is complete again 😌

user75 do you people really have nothing better to do in your free time?

user76 as a ferrari fan the only other available option is depression so no 🥰

user77 @.user75 we're good thanks 👍

user78 why is she here again?

user79 let her breathe ffs

user80 still genuinely don't understand where all the hate came from

user81 maybe it's because she has nothing to do with f1?

user82 she's not the first celebrity they've invited tho???

user83 i fear this argument is going nowhere

user84 neither is our girl but y'all aren't ready for that conversation

user85 PERIOD

f1gossippofficial

❤️ 62.8 K 💬 23.3K

f1gossippofficial max verstappen was seen attending yn's concert last night in suzuka!

comments

user86 you don't say

user87 *20 missed calls from lando*

user88 are we supposed to be surprised?

user89 yeah like any other driver so what

user90 who cares

user91 celebrating his pole position in style i see

user92 like a winner 🙂‍↕️

user93 he is a man of culture after all

user94 it's giving supportive boyfriend

user95 they're not even together

user96 exactly

user97 a girl can dream 🤷‍♀️

user98 okay but that clip of him singing along was genuinely so funny

user99 man knew the lyrics word by word

user100 where can i find it???

user101 it was on lando's stories i think(?)

user102 bro woke up and decided to expose max's ass

user103 very demure and mindful of him

user104 he did god's work 🙏

user105 lando is actually maxyn's number 1 supporter and no one can change my mind

user106 THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT YN IN THE FIRST PIC HELLO ⁉️⁉️⁉️

user107 how do you know it's her 💀

user108 i mean i don't think he would look at lando like that

user109 maybe charles was on stage

user110 her smile omg 🥹

user111 she was congratulating max btw

user112 JAIL

user113 STOP SHE WAS BLUSHING SO HARD HAHAHA

user114 they're in love your honor

user115 i'm so not normal about them

redbullracing

❤️ 7.6M 💬 42.3K

liked by ynofficial, maxverstappen1, lando and others

redbullracing it was simply lovely meeting you @.ynofficial ❤️

comments

user116 PARENTS

user117 OMG ADMIN SHIPS IT TOO

user118 wasn’t this a lestappen fanpage

user119 💔

user120 charles crying in the corner because he's not max's main love interest anymore

redbullracing dw he's still our favorite 😉

user121 try not to ship two of the most problematic drivers on the grid: level impossible

user122 no one fangirls over them like red bull

user123 MAX LOOKS SO PROUD I CAN'T

user124 i bet the little fanboy in him was screaming

user125 max "i'm just happy to be here" verstappen

user126 they're so barbie and ken coded idc what anyone says

user127 wait i can actually see that

user128 idk about her outfit...

user129 and she doesn't know about you, problem solved 😘

user130 get her away from the paddock

user131 what did she ever do to you 😭

user132 i say let 👏 the 👏 woman 👏 breathe 👏

user133 amen 🙌

user134 SHE WAS THE ONE WAVING THE FLAG I'M UNWELL

user135 i'm gonna pretend this means she helped him win (i'm delusional)

maxverstappen1 she did

maxverstappen1 she was my lucky charm

user136 AGAIN!?

user137 i'm ending it all

user138 he's so awkward it's painful

user139 STOP DELETING THE COMMENTS AND JUST ASK HER OUT ALREADY

user140 why do i feel like he could really use some rizz classes from lando

❤️ by lando

lando @.maxverstappen1 told ya

maxverstappenfanclub

❤️ 75.5K 💬 7,968

maxverstappenfanclub unseen photos of max and yn in suzuka 🤩🇯🇵

comments

user141 how dare instagram hide this from me for a whole minute

user142 HOW DARE RED BULL HIDE THIS FROM US IN GENERAL

user143 the disrespect 😨

user144 they wanted to keep all the wholesomeness to themselves

user145 selfish pricks

user146 if you heard someone screaming that was me

user147 if you heard someone screaming no you didn't. i passed out

user148 only acceptable reaction

user149 do they know it's legal to talk about their feelings instead of doing whatever the fuck this is

user150 BLUSHING GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET

user151 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

user152 there are two types of people:

user153 both valid af

user154 THE FIRST ONE IS THE REASON I STILL BELIEVE IN LOVE

user155 the eyes chico, they never lie

user156 the physical need to have someone looking at me like that

user157 so true

user158 oh he's GONE gone

user159 everyone talking about max BUT WHAT ABOUT YN

user160 ❗️❗️❗️

user161 YES THANK YOU

user162 you have no idea how much this means to me

user163 HER SMILE WHEN SHE SAW HIS CARHQYQKCZGUD

user164 and the little happy dance MY HEART

user165 they're disgusting (i love them sm)

f1wags._

❤️ 88.8K 💬 11.5K

f1wags._ ⁉️NEW WAG ALERT⁉️ @.maxverstappen1 and @.ynofficial spotted together after their collab shoot in suzuka!

comments

user166 hey so this is actually insane 😃

user167 I JUST OPENED INSTAGRAM WTF IS THIS

user168 WE WON

user169 SUCK IT HATERS

user170 calm tf down it doesn't mean anything

user171 suuure

user172 they say denial is a river in egypt

user173 just accept the fact that we were right all along and move on 😝

user174 MAXYN NATION RISE

user175 our moment has finally arrived

user176 i have no idea how we got here but i'm definitely not complaining

user177 we're being fed with this content

user178 I DIED DEAD

user179 when why and how did this happen

user180 i love how it goes from normal shooting to flirting to full-on tits out

user181 HAND PLACEMENT

user182 i see what you did there maximilian

user183 i'm 99.9% sure he smacked her ass one second after that picture was taken

maxverstappen1 why the 0.1%?

user184 FREAKSTAPPEN STRIKES ONCE AGAIN

user185 i can't believe he actually wrote that omg

user186 BOOM SHAKALAKA

user187 max or yn?

user188 both. both is good

user189 I NEED A BIG BOY GIVE ME A BIG BOYYYYY 😫❣️

user190 great now kiss

ynofficial

❤️ 11M 💬 86.3K

liked by maxverstappen1, oliviarodrigo, tatemcrae and others

ynofficial fast cars, faster hearts 🫶

comments

oliviarodrigo can't believe i really lost you to a m*n 🤢

tatemcrae he doesn't deserve you babe

ynofficial don't be mean🧍‍♀️

tatemcrae not mean. just honest

oliviarodrigo yeah no i'm sticking to mean

user191 nothing will ever top this day

user192 THIS IS A HISTORICAL MOMENT

user193 I FUCKING KNEW IT

user194 canon event

user195 it was bound to happen at one point

user196 not the couple we deserved but the one we needed

user197 YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THINGS LIKE THIS ON A RANDOM SATURDAY

user198 the ship has sailed i repeat the ship has sailed

user199 words cannot describe how i'm feeling right now

user200 i've been jumping around my room for the past five minutes

redbullracing happy for you 🥰 (charles... not so much)

user201 admin is still stuck on lestappen and so am i

user202 maxyn defender till the day i die but lestappen is THE otp

user203 lando's lessons actually paid off lol

lando you had doubts?

user203 no sir 🫡

user204 lando yesrizz

❤️ by lando

user205 HOLY SHIT THIS WAS BETTER THAN READING A FANFIC

maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️❤️

© 2025 l4ndoflove. all rights reserved.

[kilojulietsierra]

Baby, It's Alright - Chapter One (Dr. Robby x fem!reader)

Intro chapter to a little Dr Robby x reader that's a part of my series Save Me From Myself. If you'd like to check those out!

Send Me An Angel (Dr Abbot x nursewife!ofc)

I don't Have A Best Friend (Dr Abbot & Dr Robby and their 'not friends' friendhip)

Summary: You just happened to notice a picture on your charge nurses laptop that sparks a little crush on a sexy, older ER Doc you’ve never met. She is more than happy to set you two up, but you and Dr. Robby both seem to have some reservations. Until you actually meet each other.

TW: 18+ content, age gap, inappropriate humor, flirting, awkwardness, nothing too crazy in this one, barely proofread or spell checked. Don't worry this one's just getting started.

~~~~Chapter One~~~

It all started when the charge nurse, Sam, left her personal laptop on her desk and then got pulled away to help with a patient. You hadn't meant to snoop but her screensaver came up and began to cycle through photos. At first you only paid attention because a photo of Sam and her husband came up. They both had on shorts and t-shirts, dark sunglasses and huge hiking packs. They were standing on top of a mountain, arms around each other and smiling, with a picture perfect mountain valley as a backdrop.

Picture perfect.

You had never met Dr. Abbott, Sam's husband, only knew that he was an ER physician at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. In the photo they looked so happy and perfect together and it was both the sweetest thing you'd seen in some time and envy enducing. You couldn't help but wonder, not for the first time when it would be your turn. Your mind began to wander, jealousy and a little self pity at the forefront, when the screensaver changed again.

The next photo was very different. Three men in sharp, black, suits at some sort of event. You could see the crowd in the background and you recognized Jack on the left from the previous photo. The other two were strangers to you, but the one on the right… you culdn't help but think you would not mind getting to know him.

"Aww, I forgot I had that picture on here."

You jump a little, feeling like you got caught. "Sorry I didn't mean to snoop." You apologized as Sam dropped into her chair.

"Stop it, it's fine." She paused for a minute and watched until the photo switched before she woke the laptop up. "I love that picture."

"How come?" You ask cautiously. She looks a little softer than normal so you try to tread lightly.

Your shift lead smiles and clicks through the laptop until she finds the photo and pulls it up again. "That's Jack," She points to her husband, "This is Doctor Adamson, he used to be the ED Director at PTMC, and that's Robby." She points to the one on the right with the dark beard. "I think this is actually the last picture of the three of them together." She took a long moment to look at it and then must see the look on your face because she explained, "Doc Adamson passed away not long after this. He was… great man is not even close." She smiled and chuckled a little, "God, he loved these two and God knows why."

"Was he their attending or something?" You ask still scared to be too nosey, but curious to know.

"He hired them both. Robby idolized him, Adamson taught him anything and everything, took him in. I don't think Jack needed a mentor quite like Robby did, but if that man liked you he would do anything for you."

"Does he still work there? Robby I mean."

Sam nodded and took one last look at the photo before she closed it. "Yeah he's one of the ED day shift attendings."

"Are they still friends? Him and your husband?"

"Oh God, more like brothers. Mostly in the sense that they love eachother, but some days it's really hard to tell by the way they act." Sam rolled her eyes and then got back to work.

The conversation over, you left to go back to your charting and think about the sexy dayshift attending you had very suddenly developed a little crush on without even knowing him.

~~~~~

One night awhile later, an oddly slow night, you swiveled back and forth in your chair and built the nerve to ask. "Sam?"

"Hmm?" She doesn't look up from the shift schedule she's had to redo for the third time.

"Can I ask you kind of a personal question?" You chew on the inside of your cheek and wait.

She looks up at that, her brow furrowed but face still generally pleasant, "Sure, if you're brave."

"Your husband is... older than you, right?" You start cautiously.

Even more skeptical she nods, "A bit yeah."

You had kind of hoped she'd give a more informative answer, but of course she didn't. "How old? If you don't mind me asking."

Sam was clearly only getting more and more confused, but again she answered and this time she did it with a smile. " Jack is 46, and because I have a feeling you're going to ask, I'm 39."

Your face flushed you consider leaving it at that. Honestly you thought she would be younger. She looks great for nearly 40 and seven years difference doesn't really answer your question. You're committed though so you continue, "Do people ever like, say anything? Because you're younger, you look great so you look, not that he looks super old! You know what? Never mind." You can feel your face flush and you seriously consider if you could disappear under the desk.

Sam, steady, patient, no-nonsense Sam, busted out a laugh and said, "Why don't you take a second and sort your thoughts out and ask whatever it is you want to ask?"

"I'm so sorry."

"You are fine. Just tell me what's up." She gives you a smile and nod of encouragement.

After a deep breath you go for it, "God this is so weird, please don't hate me, but is being with him still... like, I don't know....since he is older, is it still..."

It's obvious she has to try not to laugh again, but she takes pity on you and answers they question you couldn't quite bring yourself to ask. "I met Jack when I was 22, he was 29, I'd had a few shitty high school, college boyfriends before that. Jack put them all to shame in every aspect of our relationship." She smirked a little, "And continues to do so." Sam gives you a mischevious wink and chuckles a little at your clear embarrassment. "As far as onyone having shit to say, sure they might, but fuck them and their opinions."

You weren't sure what you'd expected her to say. You did know that you hadn't expected that.

"Does that help whatever it is you're trying to figure out?" Your supervisor has one knee crossed over the other and honestly, it looks like she's just waiting for you to crack and give her all the details.

"Maybe. Kind of." Was the best you could give her.

Her smile gets soft again, "So... is there an older guy in your life or something?"

"No! Not- not yet anyway I mean."

"But, you're thinking about it."

"God no! I mean yeah, I guess it's kind of crossed my mind recently."

After a moment to absorb that informariton she digs deeper, "How much older? I'm guessing it's more than seven years? For what it's worth, it doesn't feel like that big of a difference. Ten years? More?"

"I'm not sure. Your excitement is scary by the way."

Sam skips over the comment totally, "So, you're not sure how much older he is?"

"Umm no. Do you know how old Jacks ER doc friend is? Robby?" There it was. Now you knew you just had to wait for the judgement.

She had to think for a minute, "Fifty. No, not yet. I think he turns 50 this year. You think he's about the same..." It dawns on her then and even with the scarce information you've provided her over the last few months. The casual comments or questions when she brought him up in conversation. You can see the moment she puts it together. "Oh..."

"Please don't be mad!."

"Why would I be mad!?"

"It's just that he's your friend and I don't know him, It's stupid, I'm sure he's married or,"

"Oh no, he's single." She interrupted you mid sentence. "So Robby? Really?"

"I mean, I've never met him or anything, and I've only seen that one photo, but you talk about him and, and why are you pulling out your phone? Sam, no what're you doing? Please don't!"

"Relax," She laughs again as she taps and swipes and types on her phone, "I'm finding you more pictures."

~~~~~

Nearly a week later and some of those pictures Sam had shown you now haunted your daydreams. Not that you were overly upset about it, but it did make day to day life a little more difficult. You had still never met the man, but Sam had happily shown you whatever pictures she had and even a couple videos. The videos, that was a whole other problem, because you had heard his voice and it was… problematic. Now you could imagine what it would sound like for him to, well, say certain things.

The crack and fizz of a Monster can on the counter in front of you made you jump and when you saw who was on the other side of it, grinning at you like she was, your stomach dropped and your face felt hot.

"Morning sunshine," Sam had a shit eating grin on her face as she took her first sip of her energy drink, "What's got you so deep in thought this evening?"

You tried to recover. Shook your head and replied simply, "Nothing, just not awake yet I guess."

Sam didn't buy it for a second, but she didn't push the subject either. The grin didn't go away and she didn't move to come around behind the station either. Arms crossed on the counter she twisted the can around in little circles, "So… hypothetically speaking, if a certain ER doc I know would be interested in going out with a smart, beautiful, young woman such as yourself,"

"Sam," You cut her off, "You did not. Please tell me you didn't."

Still with that same grin she shook her head, "I didn't, yet, but I would like to if you are really interested?"

"I don't know, it feels silly and I have so much going on."

"So?"

Sam, short, sweet and to the point at the most annoying times. "I mean…" You had to swallow down some nerves. Push aside all the negative thoughts that popped up, "Do you think he would?"

"I think he'd be an idiot not to."

"That's not what I asked."

She took a deep breath and a sip of her Monster, "Ok, full disclosure; he hasn't had the best luck with women and his job, and everything that comes with, I think is a part of that. You know how it can be, but he's who I'd call if I needed anything and coulldn't get Jack. He's the sweetest and annoyingly intelligent, he gives hugs that feel like they could fix a little part of your soul and yeah, sometimes he's a little dark and sarcastic, but he's usually pretty funny." She gives you a smile that's a little more encouraging than teasing, "He's the big brother I never wanted and I love him to death, and I would love to see you two get to know each other. You don't have to decide right now. Just, if you decide you want to, let me know."

After that the topic was dropped. Except you thought about it all night.

You waited, until the last possible second. You watched as Sam shoved everything in her backpack and turned to clock out on the computer. She was halfway to the door when you finally decided, for sure. "Sam!"

She turned, "Yeah?"

"Could, do you think we could do something low key? I don't know if I have it in me to, I don't even know if I could go on like a legit…." You couldn't help but laugh at yourself as you tried again, "Do you think, if he is interested, that we could do like a double date or something? Maybe it would be less awkward?"

Sam smiled, the pretty soft one that showed off her freckles and made you a tiny bit jealous, "What if we just invited you both over to the house for dinner? It's still nice, we can eat out on the patio by the fire. Just hang out. How would that sound?"

That's when you notice that you're smiling too, nervous but a little excited maybe, "That sounds good."

~~~~~~

Getting ready had taken too long, your nerves had gotten the better of you. Sam had said not to go overboard, dress casual and comfy and warm enough to eat dinner out on the patio. You pulled up to the house later than you had wanted. You weren't late but you had wanted to be earlier.

When your Waze app said you had arrived you took in the house before you and cautiously pulled into the empty spot in the driveway. You weren't really sure what you had expected, but this wasn't it.

The house was nice, not fancy or anything, but nice, on a huge lot in a culdesac and the yard and landscaping was immaculate. You weren't convinced it was Sam's house until you see her shiny and sleek, blacked out Tahoe parked in the open garage and what you assumed was Jacks nearly matching, blacked out SIlverado backed into one side of the driveway, both with US Army Veteran license plates. There was another truck parked in the drive that doesn't quite match the vibe, so you assume it must be Robby's. It's not as new, not as... assertive. The second truck looks like something that you could take to run errands , down to the river to fish or maybe help a friend move.

Once you parked you took a deep breath, pushed down the nerves and climbed out of your car. The garage door is open but that felt too forward, so you head for the front door and ring the door bell. You can't help but notice the Ring doorbell isn't the only camera at the front of the house.

It takes a minute for Sam to answer, but when she does she has a smile on her face and laughs a little, "I don't think anyone has used the front door since the Realtor showed us the house." She stepped aside and waved you in, "Next time just come through the garage. If the big door is open, it's unlocked"

The casual way she says 'next time' spikes your anxiety a little. You two had got a long well enough, but the way she said it you couldn't help but take it to mean 'the next time you and Robby come over'.

The inside of the house matched the outside. Nothing fancy, but clean and tidy, lived in enough to feel comfortable and the blackout curtains were pulled open to let in the last of the afternoon sunlight.

Sam interrupted your browsing from the kitchen, "Do you drink wine?"

You nod, "Sure, as long as it's not super dry."

Sam chuckled and pulled down a glass, "Don't worry, the shit I drink might as well be grape juice." She picked up a bottle that was already open on the counter and poured you a glass. "C'mon, boys are out back."

The patio was honestly awesome, with an outdoor couch and patio set, and a flatscreen TV mounted over the fireplace which was lit. Beyond the patio was a pool and a beautiful back yard and once you had taken it all in with wide eyes your gaze fell on the guys. Specifically Robby, because seeing him in person for the first time honestly kind of knocked the wind out of you for a second.

God bless Sam because she stepped to your side and called Jack over so she could introduce you to him first. Which gave you at least a moment to regroup before you had to be face to face with Robby.

He was taller than you had expected, and broader too. His eyes were dark and looked so kind, yet there was something in them that reminded you of those boys in elementary school that would tug on your braids to tease you.

When Sam introduced him as Robby he corrected her, "Michael." which confused you for a moment, but his voice was so much better in person that you don't really think too much about it.

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes, "Yeah, but nobody actually calls you that."

He didn't break eye contact with you as he responded, his hand large and warm around yours, "She can, if she wants to."

Everyone was silent for a moment and you feel so light headed you might float away. You can't look away from him, but you catch the way that Sam hides a smile in her wine glass and she turns to exchange a look with her husband.

~~~~~

Robby had not been been prepared, not even the slightest bit, for how gorgeous you were. Sam had said you were young, smart, sweet... that didn't do you justice.

Michael, he wanted, needed to hear you call him by his given name.

He also couldn't help but take a minute to imagine this differently, in the future maybe. Where you were here with him, for dinner with friends and you would send the evening curled up on the couch by the fire with him. Go home with him. Go to bed with him. He had to stop himself, shut that train of thought down early.

Just in case. He didn't want to get his hopes up.

~~~~~

Dinner was delicious and once you're done eating you can't help but think that if Sam wasn't so cool and quickly becoming the big sister you'd always dreamed of, you might hate her a little bit out of jealousy. It was a bit hard to sit across the table from her where she sat so effortlessly pretty, and smart, and tough, and talented. With her husband that was handsome, and badass, and successful, and apparently couldn't keep his hands off her.

You try to stop those thoughts, but you can't help but sink into that inadequate feeling you knew so well.

Until you glanced to your left and caught the way Robby... Michael, was watching you when he thought you weren't looking. When you do catch him staring, he just gives you a little smile. Then while the nerves remain, you feel like maybe there's no reason to feel less than. The fact that he didn't look away from you feels telling, even though in that moment you're not quite sure what it means.

Once the four of you moved to the couch in front of the outdoor fireplace you thought those nerves might disapate. The wine and the fire kept you warm, and so does sitting so close to Robby. Michael.

On the opposite corner of the couch Sam and Jack sat cuddled up next to each other. Not being inappropriate by any means, she's just tucked into Jacks side with his arm around her shoulder, his fingers stroking lazily over her arm. You glance away from them and back to R... Michael, while he and Jack talk about work.

How amazing would it feel to sit with him like that? You imagine yourself curled up on the couch, tucked into his side and the thought of it alone gives you goosebumps.

~~~~~

Robby had raised his voice as he fought to be heard over Sam, "You just walked on in like you owned the place, how was I supposed to know you were his wife?"

Sam retaliated, leaned forward from her seat on the couch, "Oh, I don't know, 'hi my name's Samantha Abbott, I'm looking for my husband' might have been your first clue!"

"That, you have to admit, sounds like you were looking for a patient."

"Which obviously means you should call security, I almost ended up in cuffs!"

"But, you didn't." He defended himself.

Jack tugged Sam back into her seat with one hand and stepped in, "Because I showed up and explained everything while you two were still yelling at each other like children." Jacks eyes moved to you, "As you can see not much has changed."

You had been laughing the whole time the two of them had been going at it, so hard by the end that your stomach hurt. How could you have known that one simple question about how they had all met would turn into… this. "That's amazing, I would have died of embarrassment."

Sam's face lights up, "Ohhh, if you think that's bad, you should hear about the first time Jack and I met." She turns to Jack and looks at him with a flirty smile and bright eyes like she was asking permission for something.

Beside you Robby, not Robby, Michael, looked like he was already trying to hold back his laughter. Jack on the other hand threw back the last of his bourban and shook his head, as if to say, no.

"Jack, c'mon… it's funny." She tried to convince him.

The look he gives her would be considered a scowl if it was directed at anyone but his wife, "Baby, not everyone has your fucked up sense of humor."

"I mean," Michael starts of with a chuckle, "I think it's funny."

"That's because it's at my expense." Jack fired right back at him

"Okay, you have to tell me now." Your laughter had died down enough to take another sip of wine, " I feel left out."

Sam looked back at her husband and waited. For a long moment they stared each other down while they have some silent conversation. Eventually Jack must cave, because he gave her a small nod. She couldn't even get the first word out before she started to laugh.

Jack shook his head and took a deep breath through his nose, "Sam was working as a trauma nurse at the Role III in Kandahar and I came in as a patient.

With her second wind Sam cut in, "No, you came in with three other guys all shot to shit, actively doing chest compressions on one and rattling off the Casevac report, with a through and through in your shoulder, a turniqet on one leg and a unit of blood strapped to your helmet, that you had started on yourself, in the field."

All laughter had left you and you found yourself holding your breath while you waited to see how this was supposed to turn into some sort of embarrassing 'meet cute' story. You looked over to Michael for some sort of confirmation and he gave it to you in the form of a soft smile and a wink that started your pulse to race.

Sam continued, "When we had to basically drag him off his teammate, so we could treat them both, the first thing out of his mouth once we got him on the gurney was, "If any of you fuckers are going to stick a finger up my ass make sure it's her, at least she's cute."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine as Sam and Robby both busted out into laughter. Once you were done coughing and awkwardly wiping the wine off your chin you nearly shouted, "Why!? Why the fuck would you say that?" Which only made them all laugh harder, especially Michael who seemed to be a little caught off guard by you dropping the f bomb for the first time.

Jack just shook his head at his wife tried to catch her breath beside him, "SOP."

"SOP?" You understood the acynym but not the context.

Sam gasped between giggles and braced her hand on jacks thigh "Yeah. He came in with multiple gsw's."

When you must've still looked a little lost Jack eplained, "MRIs and scans take time. Fastest way to check for spinal chord injury."

Michael chuckled, whistled a cartoonish little sound effect and spun his pointer finger in a little circle before thrusting it up into the air. It's obvious he's trying not to laugh, "Best pick up line ever." Sam is still giggling and Jack just continued to shake his head and grin at his wife.

Jack shrugged, "I'd lost a lot of blood, she was hot, it worked.

"That's seriously how you guys met? That's the first thing he ever said to you?" You gawked at the two of them, "And you're like, happily married now!"

This time it's Sam that shrugs, a little more collected but still with a big, bright smile and pink cheeks. "Look, when a sexy medic comes in with a Ranger tab on his arm and three GSW's, saves himself and three of his teammates and then still has sense of humor enough to make a joke about butt stuff… You just know he's a catch."

She was still a little giggly when Jack took her wine glass out of her hand and finished it as he stood up. It's him that gets the last laugh as he turned back to you and Michael, "Blind date doesn't feel so awkward now does it?"

Your face heat's up so fast you think you might melt and you do everything possible to avoid Michaels gaze. Instead you accidentally catch a glimpse as Jack leans over the back of the couch on his way inside. He takes a hold of Sam's jaw and tips her face up to him as he whispers something in her ear. You have to look away quickly as you flush even more. You catch Robby's gaze, Michael's gaze… and there it is, the thought of him touching you like that, whispering something inappropriate for company in your ear. Your stomach does a flip and you feel dizzy, but it has nothing to do with the wine.

~~~~~

Robby is the one to walk you to your car after dinner and you're nervous, "Can I ask a question Robby? And it might be the wine..."

"Michael," He corrected you as he pulled the door into the garage closed behind you both and guided you past the workout equipment and Sams Tahoe, "and go for it."

"Right, um, I just have to ask, because Sam's usually pretty no-nonsense at work."

He noded, "Like most good charge nurses."

"Are they always like that? The teasing and the flirting?" You felt silly but genuine curiosity and maybe a little wishful thinking drove you to wonder.

Michael slowed to a stop by your car and chuckled, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, "Jack and Sam... I've known them a long time and to varying degrees, yes, they're always like that. I choose to think that they found each other young and are... making the most of it."

You chuckled a little and admitted, "I um, I don't know that I've... been around a couple that's that..." You hunted for the word.

"Affectionate?" He gives you a smile, "They are the most obnoxioulsy, healthy and in love couple I have ever been around myself, which should be taken with a grain of salt." For a minute he paused, and maybe it was the bourban or they way you looked a little flustered, but he added, "You've never been in a relationship where you couldn't keep your hands off each other?"

You flushed again and the way he looked at you made you wonder if he could tell. "Uh no, not since like my twenties," The fact that your twenties was significanlty more recent for you than for him made you nervous again, nearly panic as you added," College maybe, but still not like that." You glance up and he's still got the same look on his face. That easy smile and the crinkles in the corner of his eyes, those deep dark eyes. "What about you?"

He looked as surprised by your question as you felt. "Uh no, my twenties, this nose spent most of it's time in a book."

Oh God, you thought you might burn up right then and there, but he still had that same smile so you pushed, "Thirties?"

His face finally changed, he tipped his head to one side and crossed his arms, "Had it's moments, but mostly work."

Flirting, you were actually flirting with this man, in front of your bosses house. "What about your fourties?"

Michael paused, smile softened a little, "I uh... I got my hopes up a couple times, but still mostly just work. Unless the next few months get exciting."

His eyes locked onto yours and even though you felt your pulse in your ears you gave him a little smile, "You never know, they could." You finally unlock your car and then give him a last look before you know you need to leave, before you completely embarrass yourself. "Fifties could be the best yet."

Michael's eyes pop wide and you can see him chew on the inside of his cheek. He reached for your car door rand pulled it open for you, "Here's hoping."

~~~~~~~

Chaaapter Two - Read it now!

[unluckiestmember]

Baldur's Gate 3 X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Astarion Ancunin, Shadowheart, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, Karlach and Halsin

Tags: friends to lovers, acquittances to lovers, in denial, overprotective, fluff, indirect kisses, Gale being Gale, fake love (until it's not), established relationship and innocence.

Warning: SFW. Light suggestive themes.

A/N: Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. No, I'm still in a chokehold-

Astarion Ancunin

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing ever? I could just eat you right up, darling~.”

When he first met you, Astarion knew you were an easy target. A nice meal he could exploit, especially if you’re a virgin, and a great pawn for the road ahead. He would deliver sweet nothings to you in hopes of sleeping in your bed and drinking from the pure blood that coursed through your veins. But as time continued, as you showed how sweet you were, the pale elf found himself genuinely falling for you.

He wanted to protect you from the world around both of you and bite anyone who tried to hurt you. He’d even hesitate on feeding from you out of fear he’d hurt you or expose himself to your pained gasps. You were his precious jewel he couldn’t afford to be taken from him or tainted in any way. With everyone else, he’s still a flirtatious and snarky vampire spawn. But around you, he will always be a sweet man who wants to make sure you’re okay. His princess/prince… That being said, don’t expect him to stop flirting with you. He adores when you get flustered.

Shadowheart

“Stand behind me! I don’t want you to get hurt! Just do as I say, okay?!”

At first Shadowheart thought you weren’t real. That there was no way in the nine hells that there was someone as pure as you. She genuinely thought your personality was a charade. So she watched you carefully, waiting for you to show your true colors in the form of berating someone or betraying one of the campers. But you never did. You always stayed true to yourself.

When she realized that you were probably the most modest person in your motley crew, the Shar Worshipper became attracted to you. She spent more time with you and suddenly felt like she needed to take care of you along your adventure together. Similar to Astarion, Shadowheart tries to be ever so gentle with you, never using pain in bed and out of bed unless you approve of her actions when she asks for permission. It’s evident to everyone she cares deeply for you and wouldn’t mind spending her life with you.

Gale Dekarios

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen the embodiment of happiness. Who knew I would find that in you?”

You had Gale’s heart as soon as you said hi to him. It didn’t take long for this man to turn into putty around you nor to become friends with you. And he fell in love when you always gave him magical objects without hesitation. Asking him if he’s alright and stroking his head after he eats his weave? He was swooned. The closer you two became, the more the wizard would share his life with you like an open book and offer any kind of lesson in magic to you.

It didn’t take long for him to admit he had romantic feelings for you, leading to you to become a couple. At camp, he is a gentleman, always asking if you need anything in between kisses to your cheek and becoming bashful with you when you bless his ears with your giggles. Outside of camp, he’s focused on you, making sure no one lays a finger or spell on that cute head of yours. You bring the best out of Gale and make him the happiest man in all of the realms.

Lae’zel

“G’lyck. If you’re hurt, then go to the ghustil… Hurry up or I’ll drag you to her myself.”

You were a liability to Lae’zel. Always getting hurt? Never killing your enemies? Checking up on everyone over yourself? She wanted nothing more than to throw you to the wolves so you wouldn’t ruin the group’s odds of survival. She hated you with a flaming passion. She hated how you always asked if she was okay. How you always treated her wounds after a battle and dare to kiss her injuries better. How you cowered behind her during combat.. And especially how you made her heart flutter when you slept across from her by the campfire, watching your cute face in a state of peace…

If it was up to her, she’d kick you out of the camp for what you’ve done to her. She swears it. But for now? She guesses she’ll keep you around for a little longer. Besides, she knows without her you’d die out there. You need her and she needs you.

Wyll Ravengard

“Don’t fret now, I won’t let them lay a finger on you, not when the Blade of Frontiers is right by your side.”

Wyll always wanted to have a romance like fairy tales. Save a fair princess or prince from their troubles like a knight in shining armor while slaying dragons. To meet someone who was the sweetest thing alive and experience real happiness with them by his side. So when he met you, you can bet he felt like he won the jackpot! He found your bashful nature and careless personality to be a breath of fresh air, especially when he was punished by Mizora.

At first you were a great friend, but when you took care of him, polished his horns and always checked if he was alright after fights, true love sprung between you two. It didn’t take long for him to confess his feelings to you and take your hand as your boyfriend. From that day forward, he’s been your savior on and off the battlefield when he wasn’t your sweet lover that showered you in compliments and kisses. You are positive that with Wyll you are bound to have a happily ever after.

Karlach

“Aww, you’re so adorable I just wanna squish your cheeks and hug you forever!... I can?! Well, come here, you!”

It was love at first sight between you and Karlach. After you splashed her with water and made sure she was okay, the barbarian’s heart was in your hands. She was so used to meeting backstabbers, manipulators and liars that she wasn’t sure there were any good people left. But you proved her wrong and she was so happy you did. Because of you, she made it her sole mission to get infernal iron so she could touch you.

When she couldn’t, she would share indirect kisses with you using rocks and even gift you her teddy bear Clive when you couldn’t hold her. And when she finally was able to touch you, she held you as if her life depended on it. There isn’t a moment where you two are not touching in and out of camp. You make her feel alive again in more ways than one and to her you are her soulmate. She loves you so much and will do anything to make sure you know that.

Halsin

“If you were a part of nature’s divine design, then you are a pure ray of sunshine given by the Oak Father.”

Halsin immediately gave you his trust and respect when you saved him without a reason to. It didn’t help that he also found you to be adorable with how nervous you got around him and how you stuttered a bit. With how you were, the druid quickly grew an interest in you, wanting to be beside you and feel your skin against his. He loved how you were so considerate when he wild shaped, petting his head and playing with him effortlessly.

In the wilderness, you were something like his mate, always protected by foes and checked for injuries. If there were any, he would bandage them as quickly as he could and carry you the rest of the way back to camp. When everything was settled, he’d immediately cuddle you as himself or as a bear. You were perfect in every way to him and for that, he would be your sole protector no matter what.

If you got any requests for Baldur's Gate 3, send them my way!

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

[alohajix]

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐌𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞

Description: you're new on the tour’s sound crew—professional, focused, and definitely not interested in falling for Harry Styles. But Harry? He takes one look at you and decides you’re his new favorite game. He calls you “new girl,” taunts you during sound check, and won’t learn your name… until you snap. And when the tension finally breaks? It’s filthy, rough, and everything you didn’t know you needed. Turns out, Harry’s mouth isn’t just good at running—it’s good at ruining you, too.

Warnings: a enemies-to-lovers dynamic, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), vaginal sex, light choking, spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation & no protection sex. Readers + 18.

Words count: ~8K.

author’s note: this one-shot was written based on this request (because let’s be real… long hair harry lives rent-free in our minds 🖤). if there’s something specific you’d love to see—any trope, dynamic, or filthy little daydream—feel free to send a request over on my tumblr ✨i love creating stories that live in your head the way they live in mine ♡ thanks for your request love, i had so much fun writing it!

*****

I wasn’t the kind of girl who got starstruck. Not really. Sure, I’d listened to One Direction in high school, but I’d never screamed at concerts or plastered my bedroom walls with posters. I was the girl who worked her ass off behind the scenes—setting up mic packs, running cables, keeping things moving for people who got to be loud and adored and center-stage. So, when I landed a spot on the North American leg of the tour’s sound crew, I promised myself I’d stay cool.

Then Harry Styles walked in. Tall. Tattooed. Hair long and messy like he’d just rolled out of someone’s bed. He was wearing black skinny jeans, a loose tank top, and a pair of sunglasses indoors like the world belonged to him—and maybe it did. His grin was lazy. Dangerous. Our eyes met for half a second. And he smirked. Just a flicker, like he knew exactly who he was and what he did to people. And to be fair… my stomach did dip. A little.

But then he turned to one of the crew leads, clapped him on the back like they were old mates at a pub, and didn’t even glance back at me. The spell broke instantly.

“New girl, huh?” one of the older crew guys muttered beside me. “Watch yourself.”

I raised a brow. “Why?”

“Harry likes to play,” he said with a shrug. “Especially with new girls.” Right.

The first three days were fine—long, exhausting, chaotic in the way only a live show could be. I got my bearings fast and earned my keep even faster. But no matter how focused I stayed, Harry made it his mission to get under my skin. Not in big, dramatic ways. He was slicker than that.

“Hey, new girl,” he called across the stage at sound check one afternoon, lips curled like he was holding back a laugh. “That mic’s not going to plug itself in.”

I didn’t look at him. Didn’t even flinch. Just walked past him with a coiled XLR cable in my hand and said, “Try using your hands for once, Styles.” A few heads turned. A few smirks twitched.

Harry’s brows rose. And then he laughed. “Feisty. I like it.” Ugh.

From then on, I became new girl. Not [Y/N]. Not sound tech. Not even hey-you. Just new girl.

“You following me, new girl?”

“Think about me last night, new girl?”

“Bet you dreamed about calling me daddy, didn’t you, new girl?” He said that last one with a wink. I nearly threw a mic pack at his head.

The worst part? He was obnoxiously beautiful. Even when he was annoying. Especially when he was annoying. He had that effortless kind of presence, the kind that made people stop and watch without realizing they were doing it. And I hated that I noticed. Hated that I caught myself looking. That I could smell his cologne when he passed behind me. That his voice got stuck in my head even when he wasn’t singing. I didn’t want to want him. And he knew it. That was the game.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

One night, after a show in Phoenix, the crew was packing up, and I was elbow-deep in tangled cords when someone stepped up beside me.

“You always this good with your hands?” I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Do you ever stop pretending I don’t turn you on?”

I rolled my eyes and kept working. “You’re not as charming as you think, Styles.”

“No?” he asked, squatting next to me like we were teammates instead of enemies. “You sure? Thought I saw you staring at my ass during ‘Stockholm Syndrome.’”

“That was me trying to figure out how someone that annoying fits into pants that tight.” He laughed. Not fake, not smug—real. It threw me for a second.

Then he said, “You’re fun, new girl,” and stood up again. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

“Oh, trust me,” I muttered under my breath, “you’re safe.”

Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. The hotel room was too cold. My thoughts were too loud. I replayed every word, every smirk, every stupid moment where he got too close or said something that made heat crawl up my neck. He wasn’t flirting. He was taunting. Toying. Poking at me like a lion with a new chew toy. And I hated how much I was letting him.

Still… a very small, very annoying part of me wondered what it would take to wipe the smug look off his face. Would he break if someone pushed back harder? Or would he just get worse? I’d find out soon enough.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The fifth city in six days, and I was running on caffeine and spite. The crew was beat. Everyone was a little snappy, a little sleep-deprived. But I kept my head down, did my job, and ignored the fact that Harry Styles had apparently made me his favorite new toy. He kept finding excuses to be in my space.

“New girl, that’s not how we coil cables,” he said one night with a mock-frown, arms folded as he watched me clean up after sound check.

I didn’t look up. “Then come show me how it’s done.”

He crouched beside me, slow and theatrical, and whispered, “Careful, sweetheart. You keep inviting me to show you things, I might start thinking you mean it.” I didn’t flinch. Didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I’d rather chew glass.”

He chuckled, stood back up, and strolled off like he’d won the exchange anyway.

The boiling point came the next afternoon. It was a full venue rehearsal day, and the tech team had finally gotten Harry’s new in-ear monitors working after two days of complaints. I’d personally rewired part of the feed myself. It worked. It was flawless. Until he stepped on stage, tested the mic, then tilted his head with a frown.

“I don’t know,” he called out. “Something sounds off.” My stomach twisted. No way. No fucking way. One of the senior techs asked what the issue was. Harry shrugged dramatically. “Not sure. Maybe she set it up wrong.”

She. Me. I could feel the heat crawling up my neck. Everyone looked at me, then back at him. And that bastard? He was smirking. Something inside me snapped. I walked straight out onto the stage, every step sharp and steady, until I was standing right in front of him.

“What exactly sounds off?” I asked, tight-lipped.

He blinked, almost amused. “Not sure. Just feels… wrong.”

“You mean the perfectly calibrated audio feed I spent two hours fixing?”

He tilted his head. “Must’ve missed a wire, new girl.” And there it was again. New girl. Dismissive. Condescending.

The edge in my voice cut clean: “Do you actually have a problem with the sound, or are you just pissed I haven’t begged to suck your dick yet?” Dead silence. One of the other bandmates let out a low whistle.

Harry’s brows shot up—and for once, he didn’t have a comeback. He just stared at me. Mouth parted. Eyes wide. Shocked. Then slowly… so slowly… that damn smirk crept back in. He licked his lips, let out a laugh, and leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

“I’d pay good money to hear you say that again.”

I stepped back, fuming. “Then you better get your ears checked. Because your sound’s perfect. And you’re still a fucking headache.”

I turned and walked off stage without waiting for permission.

I didn’t see him for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe someone told him to back off. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe, deep down, I hoped he was stewing in it—tasting what it felt like to be called out in front of everyone, to be challenged. But that was the thing about Harry Styles. He didn’t back off. He doubled down.

It was late when I went back to the equipment room. Most of the crew had already cleared out, but I wanted to do a final check on the in-ear setup. The hallway was dark. Quiet. I was crouched behind the table, sorting cables, when I heard the door open. Then it closed. Then a click. I froze. And I knew before I even looked.

“Could’ve just told me you wanted attention,” Harry murmured, voice low and smooth as velvet.

I stood up slowly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He leaned against the wall, arms folded, all calm confidence. “You know, for someone who claims they can’t stand me,” he said, “you sure talk about my dick a lot.”

“Maybe because it’s the only part of you that doesn’t talk back.”

He laughed again—deep, rough. “God, you’re good at this.”

I stared him down. “What the hell do you want?”

He stepped forward. Not close. Not yet. But closer. “You were right,” he said, quieter now. “Sound was fine. I just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.”

“You always have to win, don’t you?”

“Not trying to win.” His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Just want to know what happens when you stop pretending you don’t want this.” A beat of silence passed between us. Hot. Tight.

Then I said it. Low. Dangerous. “Say my name.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I’m not ‘new girl.’” My voice didn’t shake. “You want to fuck around with me, Styles? Say my name first.”

For the first time, he didn’t smirk. His mouth parted. His eyes darkened.

“[Y/N],” he said, almost reverent. I swallowed hard.

“Good,” I whispered. Then he took a step closer. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

The way he looked at me said it all—like I’d flipped a switch in him, like the cocky, smirking mask had slipped and something darker had crawled out from underneath. Hunger. Need. Control. He moved toward me slowly, like he was giving me time to stop it. To run. I didn’t.

He stopped just inches away. “You’re still mad at me.”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“You still hate me.”

“Absolutely.”

He reached out, fingers brushing my waist, light but firm. “Then why are you shaking?”

I hadn’t noticed. But I was. Because I wanted this. And it terrified me how much.

“I told you to say my name,” I whispered, still trying to hold some control.

He leaned in, lips grazing my ear. “I did.” Then he kissed me. Not soft. Not sweet. Nothing tentative.

It was rough and desperate and full of weeks’ worth of tension shoved into one messy collision. His hand cupped the back of my neck, tugging me into him, and my fingers gripped his shirt like I couldn’t help it. Maybe I couldn’t. He tasted like heat and adrenaline. His lips moved with purpose, tongue slick against mine, taking instead of asking. When I gasped, he groaned into my mouth like it lit him up from the inside.

His hands moved—trailing down my back, grabbing my ass through my jeans, grinding my hips against the hard line of him.

“You’ve been mouthy for days,” he muttered against my lips. “You want to be a good girl now or keep fighting me?” My head spun.

“Depends,” I breathed. “You done talking?”

That earned me a low, wicked laugh. Then he shoved the table behind me clear with one arm, sent cables and gear clattering to the floor, and lifted me onto it like I weighed nothing.

“You’re trouble,” he said, hands gripping my thighs, spreading them.

“You like trouble.”

His fingers snapped open my jeans. “Love it.”

He kissed me again—rougher this time. His hand slid between my legs, over my underwear, fingers pressing right where I needed him. I gasped. Arched. And that was it. Something broke between us. He dragged my jeans and panties down, baring me to the cold air. His touch turned filthy—two fingers dragging through my slick, slow and teasing.

“So wet for someone you hate.”

I reached down, grabbed his wrist, and pushed him harder against me. “Stop talking.”

He smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

He dropped to his knees like it was nothing. Like it was instinct. And fuck—fuck—the second his mouth touched me, I forgot my name. His tongue licked a slow stripe up my center, followed by a soft, wet kiss to my clit that made my whole body jerk. He moaned like he loved it. Like I tasted better than any stage, any crowd, any ego stroke he’d ever known.

“Harry—”

His fingers gripped my thighs, holding me open, and his tongue didn’t let up. He circled and licked and sucked until my legs trembled and my head fell back. When I was close—so close—I felt him pull back just slightly.

“Say it again.”

“Say what?” I gasped, dizzy.

“My name.”

My fingers fisted his hair. “Harry—fuck—don’t stop.” That’s all it took.

He groaned and buried his face against me, devouring every sound I made as he pushed me over the edge. I came with a cry, shaking, thighs clamping around his head like he was the only solid thing in the world. And he stayed there. Licking me through it. Drawing it out until I was twitching and breathless.

When he stood, his lips were wet, his eyes dark. I didn’t think. I just grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me.

“Need you inside me,” I whispered.

He swore under his breath, dragging my shirt up and off, hands hungry and fast. His own clothes came next—belt clinking, zipper undone, jeans shoved low enough to free his cock. And fuck, he was big. Thick. Hard. Already leaking at the tip.

He caught my gaze. “You want it rough?” I nodded.

He grabbed my hips, dragged me to the edge of the table, and lined himself up. Then paused.

“Say it again.” I blinked up at him. “My name,” he said again, voice low and gritty. “I want to hear it when I fuck you.”

My throat went dry. “Harry.”

“Louder.”

“Harry.”

He pushed in. One hard thrust. My mouth dropped open—no sound came out at first, just a broken gasp.

“Holy shit—”

He didn’t wait. He pulled back and slammed into me again, harder, deeper. The table shook. I held onto the edge behind me, legs spread wide, trying to keep up as he set a brutal, punishing rhythm. His hands were everywhere—gripping my thighs, pulling my hips to meet every thrust. His eyes never left my face.

“You gonna give me another?” he growled. “Or was that pretty little moan all you had?” I whimpered. He grabbed my jaw, not hard, just enough to tilt my face up. “You’re not gonna be quiet now, are you?”

“Fuck you—” He fucked me harder for that. My head fell back with a cry.

“Already am, love.”

I didn’t remember how I ended up on my back. One second, I was clinging to the edge of the table, Harry slamming into me so deep it rattled my bones. The next, he was lifting me—arms around my thighs, carrying me across the room like I weighed nothing—and laying me down across the road case near the wall. He didn’t even slow down. Just shoved back inside me and picked up right where he left off. I could barely speak. Every thrust dragged a sound out of me I didn’t recognize. It was raw. Guttural. Desperate. And Harry looked like he was coming undone. His curls were damp with sweat, jaw clenched, tattoos flexing with every movement. His hands gripped my hips like he was afraid I’d disappear.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he grunted, hips slamming into mine. “So tight—so wet—fuck—been thinking about this for days.”

I whined beneath him, nails dragging down his back, and that did something to him—he leaned in, wrapped a hand around my throat, and whispered, “Say my name again.”

My body shook. “Harry,” I gasped, voice ragged. “Harry—please—don’t stop—”

“Yeah?” he panted, forehead pressed to mine. “You close?” I nodded, barely holding on. “Wanna come on my cock, baby?” he whispered, filth-soft and wrecked. “Wanna feel you squeeze around me—make you scream it this time.”

And then he angled his hips just right. I shattered. My legs shook. My back arched. My vision blurred as I moaned his name like it was the only word I’d ever known. He followed a heartbeat later with a strangled groan, burying himself deep as he came—hot and hard and endless. The room was silent except for the sound of our breathing. My body trembled beneath him. His arms braced on either side of me, head tucked against my shoulder, chest heaving.

Neither of us spoke. And for once… he didn’t smirk.

When he finally pulled out, he did it slowly, carefully. His hands stayed on my thighs like he didn’t want to let go just yet. He helped me sit up, still panting, still flushed. I looked at him. And for the first time since we met, Harry Styles looked… unsure. Not in a bad way. Just softer. Quieter.

He ran a hand through his hair, cheeks pink. “Didn’t mean to… that rough—”

“You did.” He blinked. I grinned, breathless. “And I liked it.”

That smirk—the one I’d spent weeks wanting to slap off his face—came back, but this time it was different. Warmer. Almost shy. He reached for my shirt. Handed it to me without a word. We got dressed in silence. Not awkward—just full of something that hadn’t settled yet. When I finished pulling on my hoodie, he cleared his throat.

“So,” he said. “Do I still get to call you new girl?” I gave him a look. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay—[Y/N] it is.” He stepped closer again. Not too close. Just enough. “I like saying it,” he added, voice low. “Especially when you’re falling apart.”

I raised a brow. “Cocky much?”

“Only when I’ve earned it.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “Are you always this unbearable after sex?”

He grinned. “No. Usually I’m worse.” I laughed—actually laughed—and he looked almost startled by it. Then he said, quieter, “Wanna come back to mine?” I hesitated. “Not for that,” he added quickly. “Not unless you want to. Just… talk. Maybe eat something. You look like you haven’t had a proper meal all week.” My stomach grumbled. Perfect timing. He grinned wider. “There it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“I’ll feed you and say your name all night,” he said with a wink. “Sound fair?”

I smirked, brushing past him toward the exit. “We’ll see if you earn that privilege again.”

Behind me, he let out a low laugh. And this time, it wasn’t smug—it was real.

*****

@cloudyluun @gem1712 @dipmeinhoneyh @idk199o @harrrrystylesslut @sparxx27 @likea-silhouette @fangirl509east

[junkissed]

ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 

"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[michanvalentine]

Of course, Astarion wants to ascend. He wants it so much, it’s as clear as day. He has never hidden how much he ideally likes the idea of power—to elevate himself from his current position, to ensure his safety, to bend others to his will (instead of being the one who is bent). And if he can also walk in the sun and never feel the hunger pangs again, even better!

But let’s not forget that Astarion has a limited worldview. Cazador himself says it in one of his confrontations with Tav/Durge: "He is afraid. He is afraid because all he has ever known is you and me, and without us, he is nothing."

Astarion does not have a well-developed sense of self, and by default, he also lacks many of the skills that a well-adjusted adult should possess. So, to navigate life, he can either rely on the worldview presented by Cazador (power, power, power, and more power—to place himself above others) or the one offered by Tav/Durge, assuming they are a heroic figure. Otherwise, the only perspective left is that of power, and Ascending becomes almost natural in an evil playthrough (which I myself did in my villain run). Ascending Astarion in a good playthrough, however, seems completely contradictory to me, but whatever…

Let’s not forget that power is not Astarion’s driving force—power is only a means to an end. His real driving force is fear, as both Cazador and Scleritas emphasize. He would do anything to feel safe (like becoming a half-Illithid if scared enough by Tav/Durge—even though he rejects that idea with every fiber of his being, and yet…). The scene with the dryad, Naoise Nallinto, in Astarion’s origin run makes it crystal clear: when she uses her power on him, among all the possible choices (wealth, respect, power, etc.), Astarion’s personal wish is to feel safe, not power—even though power is explicitly one of the options. But it’s not his!

Oh, and Astarion himself spells it out, right before the final decision between Ascending or not. His exact words: "One final thrust, and I'll be free of you. I will never have to fear you again. And if I complete the ritual you started, I'll never have to fear anyone. Ever."

Everything revolves around fear, which is once again emphasized in the insight check—where it becomes obvious what is driving him and what is simultaneously holding him back from making a rational decision. Because while it’s true that he wants to ascend, he also wants to redeem himself. Well yes, it's shocking, folks, but two completely opposite desires can exist within the same person. They're called internal contradictions, and we all experience them every day or almost ("Oh, damn, I want to go out with my friends tonight, but I also want to just lie on the couch and watch TV").

Let’s not pretend this character is one-dimensional and that all these dialogue lines don’t exist when discussing Astarion. Of course he wants to ascend—he wants it so badly. The point is understanding why he wants it. And then questioning whether giving in to that fear is truly worth it, considering the consequences and what he would be giving up (because even Ascending comes with its own sacrifices, and I’m not even talking about his soul or the 7,000 people).

That’s why, if they choose to, Tav/Durge can intervene and make him reflect on the alternative (which, depending on how you play your Tav, could have been introduced to him from the very beginning of the adventure—it’s not something that just comes out of nowhere, unless you’re playing completely incoherently).

And it’s Astarion himself, in one of the most beautiful dialogues in the entire game, who explicitly states this lesson he has learned. When Durge is overcome with despair and fear—just like him—and tries to end the relationship, Astarion says: "This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear, or else we'll never truly live."

He has understood. He has grown. He has accepted that uncomfortable emotion and has decided not to be consumed by it—to choose for himself without letting fear dictate his actions. And I couldn’t be prouder of him.

One last thing, because I’ve seen it repeated a lot on social media: Ascending is not Astarion’s lifelong dream—it is Cazador’s dream. Astarion didn’t even know this kind of ritual existed until five minutes before it happened, so no, Tav/Durge is not cruelly ripping away his lifelong dream just for the sake of moral superiority. And above all, they are not forcing him to give it up—but I’ve already talked about this before, and I’m not going to repeat myself.

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 5 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: You tell him about your traumatic past and he has a proposition for you. Could the man, who's slowly destroying your life, also be the one to repair it?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, hinting at depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

Author's note: This chapter has a great focus on sexual abuse (not rape), so I'd just like to put an extra trigger warning here (That's also the reason I didn't manage to check the text for spelling errors, I just wrote it down and left it at that, so I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes.) And what I'd like to add at this point: If anyone is struggling with anything in that regard, I hope you find a way to deal with it. Please talk to someone! And my inbox is always open. I love you all!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

There was not much you could do. But the waiting was slowly driving you insane.

You remembered his words very well. They kept repeating in your head like a broken record and why wouldn’t they? Each and every one of his words was something between a gentle caress and a stab wound right in the middle of your chest.

A proposition, he called it. A proposition.

Doesn't one need free will to accept a proposition?

“Tell me who it was.” He had said. And you felt your insides clench and tingle unpleasantly once more.

“Don’t you remember what happened just twelve hours ago?” You nearly snapped. Of course it wasn’t really wise to speak to him in a tone that was anything besides timid, gentle and careful, but something bigger took your thoughts and your tongue hostage. “I don’t want to talk about it! I can’t! You saw what it does to me!”

You grasped the way he almost rolled his eyes, but decided against it. Instead he leaned closer, resting his elbows on the kitchen table. The way his sleeves were rolled up made something inside of you tighten. He was so handsome. So terribly handsome. What a bittersweet, sick thought.

“If you don’t talk about it”, he said slowly, “you won’t get over it. And if you don’t get over it, then I can never fuck you. And I want to fuck you. Soon.”

You didn’t understand how he spoke of such wicked things without letting a single muscle in his expression twitch. You couldn’t even say the words. You couldn’t even think them.

“I…”

“For God’s sake, just tell me who he was!” He called out impatiently. “Your father?”

“No!” You gasped out in horror. If there was one person in the world who had respected you and loved you unconditionally, it was your father. God, it had been the happiest five years of your life, back when he was still alive. And after his death, everything crumbled down to shit. Your life became your personal hell. On some days, when things grew particularly heavy on you, you had trouble not blaming him for dying. For leaving you alone. For ever getting married to your mother and having you. How could he have missed what kind of monster she was?

Did he even miss it?

You quickly pushed the thoughts away. In your head, your father had no idea. He was kind-hearted and good and it was going to stay that way.

“No, it wasn’t my father.” You murmured, unable to look up from the kitchen table.

He sighed, growing more and more impatient with the minutes. His tone stayed almost gentle though. Which was probably the most terrifying thing about the whole situation. At least, while he was angry you knew where you were at. Whenever he acted kind and calm around you, you expected him to suddenly lash out and knock the life out of you. Who knew? Maybe one of these days he would. You were growing too comfortable around him, denying him answers, talking back and all that.

“Who was it?”

You closed your eyes. “Please, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

He sighed again. “Let’s pretend this isn’t for the sake of me fucking you.” He said and tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. God, his eyes were so pretty when they were soft and calm like that.

Soft eyes.

Another thought for you to quickly dismiss. He hadn’t mentioned anything about him caressing you or begging you to come back to your senses, as you hadn’t either. And you surely wouldn’t. Because that never happened. That was what you kept telling yourself, for the sake of your own sanity.

It never happened.

You were growing far too comfortable around him.

You had a plan here. Play along, get him to trust you, get the hell out of there. And if that meant having to sleep with him, well, to you that sounded like a rather small price for your freedom and your life.

“What would that change?” You murmured.

“Pretend I’m someone you trust.”

These words surprised you and you looked up with a frown. Was it another test? To see if you trusted him? Oh God, would he pull the gun out again?

But no, nothing happened. He just stared at you with this…this calmness.

“And then?”

He sighed deeply. Obviously he wasn’t as calm as he made it seem. “And then we’ll talk about it. Listen, what was your plan anyway? Going through life for the rest of your days avoiding men and sex?”

You looked down at your hands. Yeah, that sounded accurate.

“Look at me.” He said in a soft tone.

It wasn’t your fault. It was your mother’s, again. And that part of you she had genuinely messed up.

Like every other innocent creature you had no idea of what sex meant, why some things felt good and others didn’t, what was allowed and what wasn’t, who was allowed to touch you and who wasn’t. She never mentioned any of that, because she, herself, was too ashamed to speak about it. Which was probably the cruelest trick she pulled on you.

You had no idea who was allowed to touch you and who wasn’t.

So, when he touched you, you didn’t say no, because you didn’t know.

“It was our neighbor.” You heard yourself whisper. A wave of disgust nearly made you shudder and your jaw hurt by how tightly you kept it clenched. Your nails dug into your palms and you took a slow breath.

In.

And out.

“Your neighbor.” He said in a whisper. Like he was afraid he might break your fragile composure. Which was very well possible.

“What did your neighbor do?”

You took a deep, shuddery breath as you kept staring down at your hands.

“He…”

You closed your eyes. All the pictures ran through your head like a camera roll. Except for the ones which were hidden away neatly, too deep imprinted in your mind and so your mind locked them away for you. How incredibly considerate.

“You can say it.” He said with a gentleness that surprised you. For a moment you almost forgot who he was and what he did. It felt like talking to a psychiatrist, a friend, a lover.

A lover.

“It…He never raped me.” You immediately said, almost like you were defending him. You always did that in your own head.

He didn’t rape me. It wasn’t that bad. I’m overreacting.

“He didn’t rape me.” You said again. “It wasn’t like that.”

“What did he do?” He asked slowly.

You tried to think of it as a band aid. Just pull it off.

Just spit it out.

“Sometimes he’d wear no more than a towel. Then he pulled me on his lap.” You whispered, unable to open your eyes or unclench your hands. “On other days, my mother made me bring him some leftover food. He’d open the door, fully undressed. I never saw him naked, like...frontal. I just caught a glimpse of him walking away, undressed.” You choked out.

It got harder with every word, but you forced yourself.

Spit it out, spit it out.

“He always called me his mouse.” You croaked out.

God, how you hated that word. If someone called you that, you were sure, you’d straight up punch them. Disgusting. What a disgusting word.

“Always said, we’re friends. Friends. Friends don’t have secrets. Friends are there for each other. One time, I hardly remember it. I just remembered it recently. He kissed me on the lips. Just a peck. But it were my lips.”

Now, that you had begun, you couldn’t stop.

“I remember the smell in his flat. I remember how much I hated it. There was always a cauliflower somewhere. He had one of those old computers. Sometimes he gave me money to buy myself something sweet.”

And by now, your hands were shaking. You couldn’t look at him and you had no idea what his expression looked like.

Horrified? Surprised? Bored?

“But the thing that weighs the worst on me”, you whispered, “the thing that haunts me the most, is the way he touched my waist. Whenever I was on his lap, he’d slowly slide his fingertips along the bare skin of my waist, creeping under my shirt. Sometimes I swatted his hand away. Sometimes I didn’t. I felt uncomfortable. I always felt uncomfortable. But he didn’t rape me.”

You opened your eyes. The look in your eyes was crazed.

“He didn’t rape me. I’m overreacting.”

The look he wore was like nothing else you had ever seen on him. He looked equally as disgusted as he looked angry. His frown was deep and his eyes far away and thoughtful.

He took a slow, long breath to sort out his thoughts and then slowly placed his hand over yours.

“He didn’t rape you.” He said slowly. “But you still realize that it was abuse, right?”

You stared at him, no words on your tongue and no thoughts in your head. You opened your mouth and closed it again.

It was?

You had never perceived it as such. Mostly for one simple reason. He didn’t rape you.

After your mother found out something was off, she did something that was entirely unexpected of her.

She got angry.

No, she was furious.

She didn’t allow you to go anywhere near his door ever again. She didn’t truly talk it out with you and she was most likely aware that it was her fault to the greatest degree.

But she protected you. From then on, she did. At least when it came to other people.

To men.

She never protected you from herself.

Instead of answering his question, you murmured: “I hated being looked at for years.”

When he curiously raised his brows, you continued.

“No one was allowed to look at me. I never understood why. When I changed. When my shirt rode up the tiniest bit. I hate revealing clothes.”

He hummed softly. “I could tell as much.”

“I hate when someone touches me unexpectedly. I hate when someone touches my…my waist. I hate when someone touches me from behind without my knowledge. It makes me feel ticklish. But not in the way it makes me laugh.”

He looked at you with the same thoughtful frown.

“I hate when someone calls me mouse.” You hissed out.

He raised his hands in surrender. “That word is as dead as Latin in these halls.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Alright.” He said softly. “How do you feel now?”

For a while you simply thought about it. You felt…better. Safe, somehow. What scared you a little was the fact that all up until now you never realized you’d been abused. You needed someone else to tell you. You were so much worse broken than you first assumed.

“Lighter.” You finally whispered.

He nodded slowly and ran his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Good.” After a beat, he added. “What about the other thing?”

You exhaled through your nose and averted your gaze again.

Of course you knew why you were so ashamed to speak about it. Sex was non-existent while you grew up. She never spoke about it to you. It was shameful. It was no subject for a mother to tell her daughter about.

It was shameful.

And now you were stuck here, in South Korea, unable to say the word penis out loud.

“I can’t speak freely.”

He frowned in a mixture of amusement and confusion. “Because we’re being spied on or…”

“Because I just can’t!” You snapped again. “I can’t…My mouth, it…The words won’t come out. The dirty words.”

That made him smile, but not in a mocking or even an amused way. It seemed almost fond. Like he found you cute. It was probably the first genuine smile you had seen on him. It confused you more and more.

“Try to describe it in your own words.”

You exhaled again. God, this conversation only ever got harder, it seemed.

“Alright.” You said quietly. “It’s just…”

He waited patiently. That made you feel safe enough to continue on your own. “I never told this to anyone. It’s…It’s the thing I’m most ashamed about. You’ll look at me differently.”

Oh God, what did you just say?

Your eyes widened and you quickly added: “I mean, you’ll think I’m a freak. That I’m twisted.”

That wasn’t even close to a good save. You had just admitted that you cared about his opinion and why in the world did you care about his opinion?

Because you realized it was true. You cared. But you tried to keep these thoughts hidden away.

Play along. Get his trust. Get out.

His smile widened, almost teasingly. “Oh, sweet girl.” He purred. “If you think your desires are twisted, there’ll have to be a new word for mine. Go on. Just tell me. No matter how horrible you think it is. For every twisted thought you have, I’ll have three worse to go.”

Your eye brows shot up and you found yourself mumbling: “Really?”

He raised a brow as if saying, do you mean this question?

“Yes. Really.”

Alright.

“Alright.”

You took another deep breath, then you began. Slowly. Quietly. And carefully.

“I realized pretty early on in my life that my fantasies were a little…dark.”

He said nothing.

“When I was younger, I was…” The words died on the tip of your tongue. And so did your composure. Tears welled up in your eyes and you wrapped your arms around yourself, tightly.

His smile slipped and he frowned again. Was that a hint of concern?

Don’t be an idiot. You’re his pet. His toy. His girl.

“I was…”

You choked down a sob and buried your face in your hands. Your body was being shaken by your sobs, faster and faster, until you were sobbing frantically.

You expected him to get angry at your emotional outburst, but you neither heard the clicking of a gun nor a belt.

Instead, and that was really weird, you felt…

You felt…

You let out a loud, surprised gasp, when he pulled you into a tight embrace. It felt like being struck by lightning or getting hit by a bus.

And waking up in paradise.

He felt warm against you and his perfume was so subtle, yet you caught on it. You felt safe. So safe. It felt amazing. You didn’t want it to end.

Ever.

But after a while, long after your sobs died down, he slowly pulled away.

He didn’t need to say it. You could tell, he wanted you to continue. And so you did. Forcing down a new flash of ashamed tears, you did.

“I needed to think about him when I…”

He nodded in understanding.

“That stopped, fortunately. After a while I forgot about him. I barely ever thought about him again and never again during those moments.”

And then you told him everything. Things about being used, called names, hurt.

Things about things about things which you didn’t understand yourself. Not in the slightest.

But you were forced to think about them, whenever you felt the nervous twitch in your lower body.

Normal things did turn you on.

Or well, the thought of normal things. You couldn’t tell for you hadn’t experienced either.

Neck kissing was good. Oral sex was good. Any way of worshipping your body was good.

But to cross the finish line, you always needed to think about those sick, twisted things. And you didn’t even get the time to properly cross the line, because the shame kicked in faster than you could.

“Is that all?” He finally asked, his expression unreadable and his tone of voice calm.

You nodded.

His lips curved up into a delicious smile.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Hours later, while you sat in your bedroom, digging your nails into your palms in your nervousness, you kept thinking about his words in all your dizziness.

And you got more and more nervous by the second.

He’d be here in a while. And then there would be no way back. If you did this now, then you did it. And nothing could ever change the course of things back to how they were before.

Were they really that much better before? You asked yourself. But again, you forced the stupid-as-hell thoughts away and focused on his words again.

“A proposition?” You had asked in a soft whisper. “What kind of proposition?”

He leaned ever closer to you and looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Your first time will be magical.” There was it again. That silken voice, the one that felt like a gentle caress. “I’ll make sure of it. The whole night. Everything is going to be perfect. I’m going to worship you in ways you can’t even imagine. I’ll take care of you. I’ll guide you. I’ll hold your hands. Look into your eyes. I’ll whisper in your ear and I’ll kiss your neck. I promise you, I’ll make you feel better than you ever felt about yourself. I’ll make you happy.”

For whatever reason, that last remark was what got to you the most. Everything sounded incredible obviously (it also sounded far too good, to be honest, but you decided to trust him when he said this), but when he said he’d make you happy, it nearly made you cry again.

Oh, was that a tear? You couldn’t tell, he wiped it away already, all the while you stared at him in stunned silence.

“And?” You heard yourself whisper. “What then?”

His smile didn’t waver. “Your first time will be perfect, my sweet girl, I promise it. I’ll make you feel loved.”

The words were as sweet as they were cruel. If only he had punched you again. Hit your face. Make you lick the floor clean, if it pleased him. But no. He had to say the one thing that tore at your heart like nothing else, the one thing you longed for, the one thing you burned for.

Love.

Hope was such a dangerous thing and especially for you. Which was why you quickly shut your thoughts down and this time for real. You couldn’t afford to have such thoughts and desires.

These were the real twisted desires.

No amount of blindfolds and handcuffs could get close to that.

“Your first time.” He said, his tone growing more serious. “But only the first time. And from then on, I’ll have you any way I want. Whenever I want. Wherever we are. However you feel. You’re sick? I don’t care. You’re in pain? Good. I’m too rough? Finally. You can’t take no more? Shut your fucking mouth and swallow it.”

You knew that something like that would follow. As you already thought before, it had been too good.

And yet, you couldn’t help yourself.

God, you knew it was stupid.

It was crazy.

It was sick.

And yet, and yet, and yet.

“Okay.” You whispered.

“No.” He said firmly. “I want you to think about it. Truly think about it. You can’t just agree, because later on you can’t back out. Do you understand that? I want you to grasp the severity of your agreement. If you do this, you belong to me. More than you already do. Entirely. I’ll be fucking you, sweet girl. I’ll be fucking you for what could be a month, a year or the rest of your life.”

You took a deep breath. Did you even have the chance to say no? What would happen if you did?

And what did the rest of your life mean? A few weeks, months, years? Until he grew tired of you? Or until fate decided it was time for you to go?

All the things wrong with you combined gave way to the worst thing you could ever do.

“It’s a deal."

_________________________________

Author's note (2): First off, I want to thank each and everyone of you for your support, your kind words and all your messages and generally, anyone who takes the time to read this story! I cannot begin to describe how much this means to me. I'll be honest, I've been writing a lot when I was younger, but at some point in my life I stopped because I got really depressed and the things I enjoyed once suddenly became unbearable and impossible. I felt like I forgot how to write. But this story and all of your kind and sweet support has reminded me that I really, really loved to write once and I still do. So, I'm thanking you. Everyone. Thank you. You gave me back the part of my soul that was missing for a long time. Much, much, much love!

Tag list: @mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3

[luveline]

Hi lovely!

I saw you’re looking for Hotch requests and I think I requested one before but I forgot what it is oops.

Could I please have one where Jack calls R mom for the first time and she feels super guilty about it but Hotch is super sweet.

Thanks!

ty for requesting 💞 fem (mom and stepmom!) reader, 1.4k

You’re obsessed with your little baby, but you’d loved Hotch’s son for a long time before you had your own, and you’ve continued to love Jack as your own regardless. If anything, having a baby only cemented that you love him. 

Though you’d never disrespect his mother or what she gave up for him, you’re a parent to Jack. When Hotch is home, Jack is home, and when he isn’t you have Jack four days out of the week anyways, splitting him lovingly with his Aunt Jess. You take care of him and you love to do it; being his stepmother is a gift. You love Jack. 

And he loves to cuddle. 

“Rub my hair,” he demands sleepily, crushed as far into your neck and chest as he can be without pushing his brother out of the way. 

“Say please,” you say, already bringing your hand up where it’s sandwiched behind him to stroke the hair from his eyes. “Like this?” 

“Thank you.” 

He’s pretty much always polite when he’s not tired. Which has little to do with you and everything to do with Haley and Hotch, you’re sure, he’d been a picture of a golden child the day you met him and besides the occasional tantrum or naughty spell, he’s a grateful child. He says thank you for things you want no thanks for, when you towel dry his hair at night for bed, or when you help him into his socks. He once said thank you for a kiss on the cheek, as if it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. 

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his brow. “Can I have a little kiss?” 

You kiss his brow when he smiles, letting your eyes flutter closed, nose still pressed to his skin. 

“I love you, mommy,” he says, wrapping his arm around your neck with a sleepy snuffle. 

You struggle to answer. The baby gurgles against your chest.

There has been a lot of mommy talk lately. Hotch is calling you mommy often now that the baby’s born, cutesy stuff like, There’s mommy! when you come back from a shower, or How’s your mom? when he’s home from work and he wants to hold the baby, but he wants to check on you at the same time.

He’s never called you Jack’s mom, but Jack’s six. He was bound to get confused, or to feel new feelings, though you weren’t expecting him to do it right now. 

Eventually, you figure you’ll do what’s best for Jack even if that best isn’t something you deserve. “I love you too, baby.” 

“Are you falling to sleep?” he asks. 

You have arms full of children and Hotch will be home any minute if what he said on the phone is true, so you won’t. “Maybe not yet, but you can sleep if you want to. I’m sure dad will wake you up when he gets home.” 

Jack settles in with the baby. Your promise gives him the solace he needs to sleep.

…What if Hotch is angry? 

You’ll tell him what happened, of course, because you don’t have secrets with each other, and even if you did this is something he’s owed, right? He’s been completely candid with you about everything, how he loved Haley, how he feels he failed her in more ways than her death, and how he loves her still. 

You don’t feel like you’re competing for his loyalty or affection, it’s simply clear that he respects Haley’s memory very strongly. What if you tell him what Jack said, and what you hadn’t said, and he’s furious? 

The door opens downstairs. Hotch calls hello, but with Jack and the baby both sleeping, you stay quiet in fear of waking them. You listen to him do a familiar dance, the click of the safe where he retires his firearms, the rushing water of the faucet as he makes himself a glass of water, and then a second you assume to be for you. 

You shuffle Jack from your chest gently, pulling the baby into the curve of your arm and depositing him with an overabundance of caution into the crib. 

You hurry to the door, finger on your lips, startling your husband on the last stair. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” you whisper. 

He gestures for you to walk back down with him. He’s unperturbed by your worry, two glasses in one hand so he can use the other to feel at your shoulder as you take the stairs in front of him. “What happened?” he whispers. 

“It’s–” You wince, descending the stairs with a distinct sense of nausea. “Can we sit down? I’ll make you something to eat.” 

“I’m fine,” he says, following you to the kitchen, where you sit in adjacent chairs at the dinner table. 

You brace your hands on a placemat. 

He laughs and takes them into his own. “Nothing you tell me is worth all this worrying.” 

“It’s about Jack.” 

His smile fades. “What about him, honey?” 

“We were upstairs… You know how he is, he climbed on top of me and we were cuddling because Noah finally fell asleep, and,” —it’s best to just tell, even if you feel clammy and guilty before you’ve admitted to it— “he called me mommy. I’d never tell him to, I promise.” 

Hotch brings his hands up slowly, yours raising with them where he’s holding your wrists. “What did he say?” 

“He said he loved me. ‘I love you, mommy.’” 

“What did you say?” 

Your grimace is apologetic, eyebrows pinched. “I said I loved him too.” 

“And you’re worried that’s not okay?” You nod. “It sounds to me that he was just telling you how he feels. When you wake him up in the mornings and you tuck him in at night, and you’re the person he goes to when he needs a bandaid, you must feel like his mother.” 

“But I’m not.” 

“No.” His dark eyes are relaxed, his brow only a shade of its usual downturn. “Haley is his mother, and she’d love how you treat him. He will always, always know who his mother is. But if he wants to call you mom, a woman who loves him and looks after him with the same tenderness as you do your own, then I think that’s okay, especially with Noah getting older… How do you feel about it?” 

“I love him.” 

He does that silly smile where he’s more happy than he’ll admit to, leaning forward, pressing your hands to his arm and then his lips. “He loves you,” he says. 

Hotch stands and offers a hug. When you take it, he sways you from side to side. “She really would’ve liked you, honey. It was me who let her down.” 

“But her baby calling me mom…”

“I know. It’s a conflicting feeling.” 

You let out a big sigh and slouch in his arms. You’re warm butter under his touch. He reacts accordingly, bending and cupping the back of your neck. 

“It felt awesome,” you confess. He might as well know. After the remorse, you were happy. Jack must really love you. 

“You’re very, very good to him. Just let him love you however he wants to, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget who his mother was, and how much she loved him.” 

You wouldn’t let Jack forget her either. 

Hotch leans away to dot a kiss to your cheek before he hugs you again. “How are they? The boys?” 

“Sleeping. Waiting for you to come home and wake them up. Maybe please don’t wake up Noah, he might sleep through the night tonight if we leave him alone.” 

“I won’t. I’ll see him in the morning.” His smile is audible. “I’m a little jealous, I think. Jack hardly ever says he loves me first.” 

“You clearly don’t cuddle enough.” 

“That,” he says, giving your hip a squeeze, “is a low blow. But I’ll allow it.” 

“You’ll allow it?” 

Another adoring sweep of his arms on your back. “You can say what you want,” he amends. “Thank you for taking care of things while I was gone.” 

He doesn’t need to say thank you, you’re a family, but you appreciate the gesture. “You’re welcome, handsome.” 

[lunnefisk]

everything wrong with elon musk's dogshit elden ring build

elon musk recently bought a blatantly boosted poe2 account and started trying to pretend he knew what he was talking about with it. while you could definitely in part put this down to... his general... everything... i think this was influenced by his elden ring build getting roasted a while back.

@luciferhimshelf has prompted me to go through his build and pick apart everything i see wrong, because while i think people get the general idea it's horrendous, i really want to go through it ALL

ALRIGHT. some of these are excusable first playthrough mistakes, and some of them are fucking baffling

he's in the mountaintops of the giants with 1009 hp. this is WAY less than you should have by this point. for anyone curious, i used a build calculator to check and he hasn't kept the debuff from hugging fia, which is a shame because it would have been very funny

he has 31 vigor, which governs your health. the general agreed end point for your build is 60 vigor, which bring you to 1900 hp. he also has a talisman equipped that gives you +5 vigor, endurance, strength and dex, MEANING HIS ACTUAL STAT IS 26 VIGOR. YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE 26 VIGOR AT THIS POINT

the spirit summons are... strange. having three equipped at all times is a really odd decision. two of them, Skeletal Militia (1) and Banished Knight Oleg (3) are reasonable choices, though by this point you really could have replaced them with something better - especially skeletal militia. the middle one, Marionette Soldiers (2), is more odd, but it's not a shit-tier choice. the odd thing here really is that he has three summons in his hotbar and no healing flasks - which i assume are in the quick access. i'd love to see his split of hp and fp heals too, because of the next one...

38 mind is a really strangely high amount to have. you don't need this much, ever. the only reason you might need this much is if your only spellcasting staff is lusat's glintstone staff (which is the one he is using), because it makes all your spells more expensive in exchange for dealing more damage. this should not be the only staff he is using.

and i know it's the only one he uses because for some reason he seems to be equipping all his weapons at once. i actually did this on my first playthrough of a souls game so i can't trash talk this one that much but it is still really fucking strange, ESPECIALLY WHEN HE IS HEAVY ROLLING IN THIS IMAGE. WHY IS HE HEAVY ROLLING WITH THE +5 ENDURANCE TALISMAN EQUIPPED

the more things i point out, the more inevitable i feel my descent into madness will become

why does he have two shields

i can understand multiple weapons. i don't like it but i understand it. two shields makes no sense. you should never have two shields

"oh but lunne maybe he has two shields because one parries" both of his shields are uninfused, and their base ash of war is weapon skill.

there is no reason to have two shields equipped.

i'm going to try and push past the fact he has two shields equipped, and move onto the weapons and spells

the weapons themselves are reasonable choices - rogier's rapier is a free weapon pre upgraded with a nice ash of war, and moonveil is a very powerful weapon and he has an intelligence build. this makes sense.

however, i would be an idiot if i did not point out that the reason elon musk is running an intelligence build, is absolutely 100% without a doubt because he thinks he is intelligent.

68 (62+6 from the helmet) is an odd choice - there is a spell that requires this amount, however i am not convinced he was smart enough to find it. if i had to guess, i would say he is probably just working toward 99

with this in mind, i looked at his spell choices. i can make out that he is running zamor ice storm, night comet, magic glintblade, comet, and loretta's greatbow. (i found out there is a wider crop of the image after scrutinising it, and it turns out i was right anyway)

these are extremely odd choices for your five spell slots.

the fact he has five spell slots really is the piece de resistance here. the funniest thing about this whole image. i'm sorry i put it off, but i really had to savour this.

you get two spell slots at the start of the game. one is bought at the roundtable hold. one drops from the red wolf of radagon, a mandatory boss on a casual playthrough taking on every legacy dungeon they find. a fifth one drops from demi-human queen maggie, in mt gelmir near where he would have been doing a quest to get that staff.

all the other memory stones are acquired through puzzles.

he is running an intelligence build because he thinks he's smart, but he could not solve a single puzzle.

he also took a photo of the screen instead of a screenshot.

[occamstfs]

Talismen IV: Deliverer

Alex does a few deliveries before meeting Nicky for lunch. His should be familiar route launches men into new lives as slobs, handymen, hairy tops, and twinks. All the while he struggles to understand the reality before him and his own changing form and his strange position in this new world.

Yowza that’s a long one, as stated it’s kind of a bunch of mini TF’s in a longer story though! In the order presented in the description :) Also I did end up including a gender change since it seemed there was some interest! Worry not, it's all very gay haha! The final poll will go up Sunday the 22nd and run for a week this time. Had quite a bit of fun writing this one, hope you all enjoy the penultimate chapter of Talismen! -Occam

Alex had just returned from another delivery to the sweet couple of bears next door when he received a text from his friend, Nicky. [Heyoo, when are you on lunch? Si’s meeting me for coffee in a bit right next to ur place if u wanna join~] Checking the time, Alex thinks he’ll probably have one more order before getting to clock off and tells Nicky as much. 

Already waiting alone in the cafe, the inadvertent magus’ eyes glimmer their unnatural red as he opts to cast a spell the old fashioned way and summon his friend by ordering some rangoons for himself. What better way to get what you want than to ask for it. 

Nicky smiles as he sees Alex reply [Should be good ! Zhao’ll probably have me do one more but I’ll be quick~] Getting in line the man’s fingers flex unknowingly as he whispers under his breath and winks to no one, “Yeah yeah, you’d better dude- Speed it up for me.” rather than typing this, he sends some in-joke emoji, totally unaware of the almost imperceptible red mist that falls from his mouth and shoots through the doors of the cafe towards the nearby delivery man.

It hits him just as he enters Wok’N’Talk, he shivers as it flows into him, lightning his dark brown enough to be black eyes for but a moment as the few hairs on his arm stand on end. He pauses as the bizarre staticky, pent-up sensation fills him, though not for long as he’s just as soon assailed by the owner calling him to get back to work, “小伙子! (Xiǎohuǒzǐ/Young Man!) Alex! The phone is blowing up! Can you do one more run before lunch?” 

“Just one?” Alex takes in the scene as he sees Zhao nervously gulp at the still printing orders, continuing to pile up. He well knew how the older man operates and figured implicitly offering to help more would butter him up enough to at the very least get the easiest jobs left on the table, “感谢上帝 (Gǎnxiè shàngdì/Thank god) for you Alex, there are two orders very very close- Do you think you can do them at once?” Alex nods and checks the addresses before being interrupted, “Ēn- ah! I forgot one just came in and they asked for you by name Alex-” He sheepishly looks at his young employee, “Would you mind?”

Checking it to find it’s clearly from Nicky he rolls his eyes and prepares to harangue his friend for piling more work on him. For now he simply acquiesces with a deep nod and Zhao comes over with the horde of takeout he’s to deliver. Alex tries to wave off his boss as the older man pats him on the back, “What would we do without you 小伙子- (Xiǎohuǒzǐ/Young Man-) No wonder they asked for you too eh?” Alex tilts his head as he sees a dreamy look appear in the owner’s eyes as he inhales the faintest wisp of red fog. At the same time he feels the man’s arm go limp on his back. Immediately concerned, he leans in to catch the man before he trips only to hear him whisper, “You always were one of my best boys.”

The delivery boy almost flinches back as his words are joined with loud pop music descending upon the restaurant, a stark shift from the traditional instrumentals Zhao prefers. Every inch of the place is suddenly painted in a red haze as the overhead lighting tints crimson. Alex looks up to see Zhao suddenly standing at the counter, “Mr. Zhao is- what is happening!?” He sees wrinkles disappear from his face as he removes his tie, “Why, dear Alex- What do you mean? Do you not long to be one of my 肌肉 (muscle)Jirou Heroes?” Alex backs away as he sees the man reach out and a leash appears in his hands. Smirking, the owner continues, “Tell him Xian.”

Alex didn’t see his closest friend on staff standing there before now, perhaps he wasn’t. Just as off put as the delivery man, the cook looks around, equally as uncomfortable and unsure of the surroundings as the delivery man by the door. That is, before Zhao twists his hand and the leash shoots to attach itself to Xian’s shirt collar, bending its fabric into a thick black bondage collar. The red lights flash as Alex’s friend grasps at the leash before his arms fall limp and his mouth falls agog. Fear fills the delivery man as he watches Xian swiftly contort as his leash is pulled taut.

Zhao just smirks as the once cook surges taller, sleeves immediately bursting to nothing as arms perfect for their new line of work bulge into existence. Pecs made to be oiled and abs made to be rubbed punch into existence. Each distinct muscle presses larger as Xian puts his arms behind his back, standing at attention until his boss, his owner, suggests otherwise. Alex covers his mouth in horror and grimaces as his stomach turns from seeing his friend’s body contort into a titan, into pure sex appeal. He tries to ignore the desire that fills him as he can’t help but stare at Xian. The leashed man briefly looks to Zhao for permission to speak, “Why are you scared Alex, just give in.”

His voice is stone cold and deep, raspy while betraying no emotion. Alex moves his hand to cover his eyes and bring it further away from a crotch that pulses with need. He clenches his eyes shut to hide the red light that seeps in through his fingertips as his chest tightens. Skipping breaths, he swears he feels his own chest beginning to grow just like Xian’s. “No, nono-” Alex clutches at his shirt and feels his chest burning, bulging into his hand. He struggles to tug at his shirt as his biceps press awkwardly against the new chest, making it clear that they too are thicker. Totally overwhelmed he stares at hands that contort larger, fingers stretch and palms widen. He stares at hands that are not his own and then he blinks. And all is normal.

“Yo Alex, you alright dude?” He feels the fan hanging above the door blow air against dried tears on his face. Xian calls out from the window into the kitchen, “Sure you don’t need an early lunch?” looking around he’s reminded of how short-staffed they are before continues, “I mean, no one else can do it but-” While unable to compartmentalize really, he can certainly perform normalcy enough to fool a man half a dozen yards away, “Yeah no problem dude! Just uh-” he sees a flash of Xian’s face sharpening to stone and harshness of his echoing bass, Alex’s voice cracks as he continues, “just spAced out- I’ll be back after lunch!” 

Forcing a smile, he grabs the delivery bags and runs as fast as he can manage into the streets. Stumbling out of eyesight he takes deep breaths of fresh air. What kind of episode was that? Knowing where the first delivery is, he starts the trip into the apartment building next door, home of all their number one customers, and a haven of normalcy that for good reason Alex is desperately craving. 

Already rationalizing whatever as his being overworked the young man doesn’t take a second to look behind as the cute neon sign Zhao has kept for years tinges red as it begins to shift from Wok’N’Talk to Jirou Heroes. Just as he saw, Xian stands behind the counter, bloating and flexing as the interior of the shop corrupts from an almost stereotypical Chinese food restaurant into this new, younger Zhao’s take on a muscle cafe. 

Alex is thankfully none the wiser as he keeps his nose on the grindstone to maintain at least the illusion of someone not mid-psychotic break, as anyone who sees prescient images of the future must to survive. Riding up past happy husband Rich Adam’s apartment he squirms to try and ignore the feeling that his clothes are tighter than usual. It’s in his head, he’s just stressed. And yet, were anyone there to see him they could not help but notice as the elevator continues to climb, his sleeves grow almost snug and pecs begin to give his torso profile it has never held before. Getting a little sweaty he puffs stuffy air into his shirt and swears it’s just nerves.

Frog in his throat he clears it as the elevator finally reaches the sixth floor. DING. The guys’ll offer him some water. He pauses to judge the heft of their order, weird that they’re all here today? Game day’s usually Friday, he thought. Well, he shrugs to himself- guess they’re allowed to hang out when they’re not role playing, or whatever. 

Alex sighs to himself as he makes it to their apartment door. Content to finally be back in sorts, he takes a moment to himself to ensure he’s indeed all there. Smiling wide just to feel the strain on his face, clenching his teeth to feel the pressure on his jaw. He takes a deep breath and ignores how his shirt tugs just a hair more against his stomach before knocking. 

Despite himself his raps on the door are quiet, he doesn’t notice as just like from Nicky, red mist falls from his mouth and slinks under the door. The humble host of this little gathering reaches for the door knob and just before turning it he freezes. Eyes flash red as just like Xian, just like Alex, he is struck with something inevitable. It then shoves past him as soon as it enters, tendrils launching out to the other occupants, to the meek miniature painter and a pair of friends having a not-quite-lovers spat about their campaign. 

But first and foremost it fills Ian who after a moment that lasts forever and never happened at all he returns to his mind, shivers and opens the door. “Heyyy Alex! Didn’t know you work Wednesdays too!” Alex sheepishly smiles, laughing and follows the man in. Despite meaning something worlds different when Zhao said it, the delivery boy was indeed popular with the Wok’s customers. Alex looks down and squints as he swears he can see, almost like string, a red trail into the apartment. The red brings images back to his mind of Xian growing out of his apron and fills him with nerves that he’s about to have another episode he tries to gulp and is reminded of his thirst. Forcing his mouth into a docile smile he doesn’t even begin to try to hide the fear in his eyes as he asks, “Hey Ian could I trouble you for a glass of water?”

The host doesn’t turn to look at Alex as he answers, his own eyes already glassy and distracted, “Yeah yeah, uhh- I’ll go grab it for ya. Think I hear a leak or somethin’ in there anyway,” Alex furrows his brow as he watches the man saunter away, his upper body dragged behind legs walking with a cocky gait that Ian would never deign to perform. Alex clutches at his chest and for the second time feeling pecs that have begun to amass once more he is filled with despair, though this time he feels he can get a jump on things. He can stop the changes. Looking back at the red chain ahead he can almost see footprints that lead toward the room where Wes, the painter, works.

He has seen what happens, he couldn’t save Xian then, but surely now. Surely he can stop anyone else from changing. Maybe you’re not supposed to go along with it, and maybe it’s already too late, but fuck man he can try and help. Propelled forward with purpose alien, Alex unknowingly stomps onward precisely where glowing red footprints lie. With each step forward his feet grow to fill them as his calves and thighs stretch larger with his all-consuming desire to get there faster. His shoes change to something bulkier, more fashionable as the soles of his feet grow wider and toes stretch longer, filling them before they simply burst larger to catch up every new step. His work pants are field to the bursting with powerful thighs now laced with veins as he wills them thicker, stronger, as he wills himself to be faster.

And then he’s there, Wes is quietly working as he often is. Though Alex often delivers the party their meals on game days, rarely is he ever alone with Wes, but the man seems a quiet sort. When the painter sees the man enter he smiles and offers a miniature to look at, “Ah! Nice to see you Alex!” The thin Wes’ eyes brighten with a smile, veiling the red behind his irises, “How’s this lil guy look?” Alex struggles to quiet his heavy breathing and temper his clear overreaction, clearly nothing is actually happening, he’s being delusional. Were he to look down at his lower body to find his pants rapidly changing texture and rising to become shorts and exposing his new beefy calves he’d surely maintain the right level of fear. Instead catching his breath he leans in close to inspect Wes’ work.

“Woah huh, yeah. That looks huh, crazy good Wes!” He can’t imagine the precision required for such deliberate brush strokes. Wes must be a man of great patience. And then he blinks and there is nothing in the man’s hand. In fact that cannot be the hand of this shy artist. Instead he’s staring at a meaty paw and punching himself for losing sight of his self-assigned mission as he sees the unreal take hold of reality once more. He hears a burp tear through the air as the man in front of him guffaws, “buUURRP- Huhhuh! Sorry bruh, didn’ mean to getcha with that one huh!” He can’t tear his eyes away as the man's arms grow thick with fat and muscle in equal part as he clumsily wipes red paint on his beyond ratty shirt.

The sleeves disappear as it morphs into a sweat and paint covered cutaway. All the while the man continues oppressively laughing. He scratches at his now exposed pits and Alex stares with fear as with each stroke his fingers drag through more, thicker, darker hair. Apathetic as he simultaneously mars his sticky pits with paint and coats his ungainly fingers with a musk that now seeps through the air. His legs similarly burst free from their confines as they are covered with thick curls from his newly bulging package to his lengthening hairy toes. Wes goes to grab his paint cup and raises it to drink. Alex doesn’t even have a chance to react as it shifts into a beer can.

The paint covered slob downs whatever swill left in the can in one gulp before clumsily crushing it against his bulky thigh and tossing it to the floor, “What’s wrong fucker, look like ya’ve seen a ghost huhuh! Oh waiiit shit you got our food, ya?” Again Alex doesn't speak up or even move as the barrel chested man barrels past him to get to the Chinese food left in a heap by the entrance. Wes’ meaty hand forced on Alex’s chest leaves a sickly red stain, launching his top to begin its change from a plain uniform to more of a slutty crop top, one perfect to display Alex’s new meatier arms as they hang lower from shoulders that widen with every heaving breath. Seeing the man leave he is filled with an urgency to move himself, he needs to get out of here. 

He needs to- his eyes flash from the door to Wes tearing through the delivered takeout, to the red trail bleeding towards the living room, before finally landing on the kitchen. His throat burns yet again, what a thoroughly unimportant need, but one that nonetheless must be sated. Despite the world around him, poor Alex simply needs a drink. 

Unfortunately for the struggling delivery man, upon entering the kitchen he only finds more otherworldly horror. Alex is promptly torn between instincts of flight and fight as what he sees fills him with fear. Thoroughly stuck, he sees a massive man struggling to free himself from underneath the kitchen sink. Despite knowing this cannot be the case, when he stares at the cut abdomen of this figure wrenching away at a pipe he simply knows it to be Ian. Alex tries to jam his eyes shut and picture the friendly man who greeted him upon his entry.

Unfortunately, as soon as he does so the only thing his psyche can do is imagine the piecemeal conversion of his acquaintance into the pornstar posing as a handyman before him. He sees the smiling eyes of Ian go vacant as a dull, horny hunger fills him. Sifting through a lifetime lived, he sees the man pretend to stretch and reveal the lowest row of abs that now punch out of his stomach. Thick hands reaching out to massage shoulders as every soul he stands in front of seems to him nothing more than the chance for some release. In the most immediate moments of Ian’s new life, Alex sees the brute grow frustrated with adjusting his constantly throbbing package through his pants before simply tearing them off as if they were nothing. 

The delivery man is then pulled back to the now. Frozen watching the man before him, grease covered forearms barely visible beside a sweat covered meaty chest. His deep, dumb voice echoing out from the cupboard, “Yeah you shoulda called me out here weeks ago dude- Gonna have to be coming out, like, uhhh, every day next week probably.” Alex fails to gulp again as he can almost hear the wanting smirk on Ian’s face in that dark crawlspace. Seeing a cup of water Ian must’ve laid out for him in his last moments of lucidity, Alex quickly downs it before responding, “Uhm, Ia-” he clears his throat as it remains itchy, only for it to resound deeper, “Ian, you-  this is your apartment.” 

The handyman apparent struggles to remove himself from under the counter, flexing performatively and humping the air as he ambles, bumping his head a good few times before his escape. Each time a throatier grunt ushers forth as his arms tangle and his shoulders grow unfortunately larger, almost wedging him intractably. Alex bites his lip as he is struck with an urge to help only waylaid by the concern that were he to get closer he’d accelerate the kitchen captive’s changes, or worse yet, spread them to himself. Inching closer he discovers it’s quite the former as with each sparing movement closer towards Ian, hair begins to cover him just as it did to the now-slovenly Wes. 

Pubes thicken and race up his waist as a jungle of hair grows thicker underneath arms that seem to be in a state of perpetual flexing. Acne and curls dance across his meaty chest as he finally disengages from the kitchen sink. Head now in the free air Alex watches as a mustache bursts from his upper lip. The man Ian has become dully looks around the kitchen and laughs as he indeed recognizes it as his own. Alex struggles to look away from the cock that now bobs free in the open air, having finally burst free from the strained compression shorts. Watching as the man scratches his stubbly chin with his pipe grease-covered hand as he struggles to produce some wanton thought, Alex wonders what he’s even doing here. 

Where once nothing but horror filled the delivery man’s mind upon seeing such transformation, now he is struck with the absurdity of the situation. Watching two friendly, thoughtful men morph into slobs beyond imagination Alex can’t help but wonder why. When Wes enters the kitchen using his paint covered mitts to fist loose fried rice into his mouth, spilling it all over the floor, Alex decides to simply wash his hands of whatever this bizarre situation is. He hears the two dullards talk in their fried voices, “duuude put some pants on we’ve got company-” “Ah it’s just Alex sure he doesn’t mind seeing my balls huhuh!”

On the way out he passes a hall mirror and for the first time sees what the workings of this impossible realm have done to him. He can’t help but grin as he sees the heavy arms now totally exposed. His thick but still soft hands trace his thin waist and play with the few hairs that make up a treasure trail. His skin burns with sensitivity as his fingers leave an unmistakable red trace as they dance on his tight stomach. He fights the urge to continue upward towards a chest that hangs clearly in between his new pistons though stays strong, in a way, and starts for the door. He has still kept his mind and surely when he leaves all will be normal. This isn’t happening and he’s not about to grope himself in a customer’s apartment. 

And yet, when he hears the sounds coming from Ian’s small den he can’t help but take a look. He remembers Wes mentioning the pair had been arguing over the direction of the campaign but clearly Tyler and Chuck have worked out their differences, as it were. Alex rolls his eyes at his presumably repressed psyche having lost the plot of whatever episode this is as he sees the once dungeon master lean in to aggressively make out with the player who had long been yearning for some romance in their sessions.

Alex can’t help but allow his hands to inch towards his own wanting crotch as he stands to watch. His eyes flash red as he sees the room as it was when he entered the apartment. The argument in the living room abruptly ending as the men are struck with swaths of red mist flown in from under the doorway, light from the afternoon deepens and shifts to stage lighting as if the den was only a set. Chuck jokes about more sensual and sex-themed RPGs as he puts his arms behind his head, ignoring as his hairline rapidly disappears and sweat stains appear in his pits. Tyler licks his lips as the small crystal on a string he never leaves home without quickly thickens and grows heavy as the crystal itself shifts into a lock he hasn’t the key for. 

Both men shift awkwardly as they are immediately struggling against a primal hunger that rolling dice could never satiate. They pull at their clothes soaking heavy with sweat and oil, Ty’s hair shortens into something barely longer than the new hair that begins to pattern his chest. The player gasps as his master’s new beard scratches against his own rough cheeks, when his head is forced down to the man's pillow chest he is torn between desires to lick and lavish or to bite and tear. The pair then fall onto the stained couch as Alex simply continues to watch. Unable to look away, unable to remove his own sweaty palm from a crotch that begins to strain against his shorts. From afar Alex begins to understand his place.

When his fingers catch in newly thick pubes he suddenly comes to his senses and falls away from the men moaning as they struggle to strip from clothes that are almost tight enough to act as bondage for the fucking pair. Alex stumbles backwards, grabbing the remaining orders he has left to deliver with the hand he didn’t begin to publicly masturbate with and sprints from this true hellhole of an apartment, hoping more than anything that just like at Zhao’s it was all in his head. Just an imagination that has suddenly become overactive and obsessed with transformation. He’d heard of the fetish at least, stranger things have happened, probably?

Free at last from the slobs and exhibitionists that clinging to hope are actually just friends chatting over takeout once more, Alex contemplates just turning himself in for his own safety. Surely he’s not expected to just continue doing his job in the middle of what can only be a psychotic break. At the same time, what if he is indeed some courier of change. What if he is the one doing this somehow.

Looking down he sees himself at the very least wearing suitable clothes once more, tracing up his shirt once more however he finds that his form has not been spared. His skin is warm to the touch and the muscle beneath is tight, powerful. He feels thicker hair trailing up from his pubes up decorating abs that he never spent a second working for. A chest that would require him to simply live a different life to earn.

Eyes on the ground he sees shoes a few sizes wider and pants catching on his thick thighs and powerful calves. So too does he see a path forward, laid out, inevitable. At once he understands that he is not truly acting, he is but a messenger, a deliverer, a shepard. What is happening is happening and he must be there to see it through. He is a psychopomp of the changing world and avoiding it, if that’s even an option, can only bring ill. Coming to terms with what he has seen and will see, for the first time he allows himself to grapple with the powerful, primal fulfillment that witnessing these transformations has brought him. Pleasure beyond what he thought was possible. It is no wonder the men did not fret as they were molded into their new forms, it felt, good.

When he remembers the final delivery of the day his curiosity is piqued, another couple. Jen and Rob. Through and through gay he wonders what the next situation has in store as he begins to walk down the long hallway, his footsteps silent leave a trail behind. While in Ian’s apartment he was following a path laid out for him, now that he has embraced the reality of this unreality, now that his will has aligned to get this over with, quickly, he holds the power within himself. Just as Nicky does, just as Timothy did. He steps forward precisely where his feet are supposed to land.

Before he knows it, as if he’s willed it closer, Alex stands outside the apartment. All the while he has continued to grow. His pecs inflate and traps swell and while his tee has expanded a few x’s larger to hide his bloating figure. His pants, having torn a few times over, have given up the ghost to become compression shorts that allow thighs thicker than his head and calves that could kill to remain on permanent display. Feeling his biceps strain against the sleeves of this pump cover that should be too large for any man, he toys with the idea of simply removing it.

Before knocking on the door he smirks as his mind flashes to the shitty man that lies inside, Rob won’t know what to do with himself when he sees the little prudish delivery boy has ballooned into something better than man. Feeling his package strain against his shorts as his thighs flex from the simplest movement, Alex prepares for the first time with intention, though not volition, begin a scene of transformation. He prepares to usher the couple into their new selves, his mind can’t help but skip forward and imagine some twinkish Rob being dominated. “Spoilers,” he whispers to himself grimly as he approaches the door, it opens without him even needing to beckon and he walks in with the couple’s lunch.

“Alex!” Jen cheers, her eyes alight with forced delight as she has clearly been in argument with her fiance, as he often finds them. She stands hands on the counter and her ever-frustrating partner sits on the couch playing Elden Ring, she motions for the delivery man to come in and finally her eyes land on the man who now stands a few heads taller than her. “Wha-,” her eyes flash red as her desires are more than clear to Alex, I want to be the man in the relationship. He doesn’t care all that much to explore the gender dynamics, nor does whatever power that moves through him as he sees the woman gasp and shiver as it becomes clear that she is a woman no longer. On the couch Rob complains.

“Babe what the fuck? Are you flirting with that little bitch to get a rise out of me?” At last Rob turns to inspect the pair standing in the doorway as he sees his fiancee rapidly bursting free from the tight top he whined at her, them, this morning to wear. Jen’s chest pulls inward as their upper body grows with strength they have always been discouraged to pursue, but never stopped hungering for. Hair prickles their chest as a sculpted patch bursts forth between heavy pecs and around nipples that have thankfully not decreased in size.

Below the belt it becomes clear that their, his, masculinity is not in question as Jen in the minds of every person present irrevocably becomes Jake. His hips jut forward against the kitchen counter as permanently shaved pubes race up to meet the garden of chest hair, and down to cover burgeoning balls that begin to fill his bloodstream with enough testosterone to make up for decades of hormonal imbalance. Hair growth is of course centered around a cock that would put any man to shame, the same could be said for Jake’s mind as he almost drools looking down at his new rod.

Stick thin arms become biceps that hide pits almost steaming with b.o. that a life ago she mocked Rob for having, now he simply delights in the new way to exercise his masculinity, his undeniable virility unto the world around him. Groping at his crotch Jake lets loose a deep moan as a new adams apple bulges out of a neck framed by traps still continuing to grow. Veins carrying changes through his growing form tinge red with every beat of his racing heart as for the first time pre drips from his new cock.

On the coach Rob struggles to rise as he sees his boyf- no not his, fiance? No. His eyes widen and he puffs up his chest as he struggles not to meet this obstacle like every one he has faced before now, brute force and a dim witted mind. Alex tilts his head and frowns before raising his hand and faster than anyone could possibly observe a red tendril shoots out, through Jake and into Rob, I want to be the man.

The man who has always been a man falls back and begins to writhe. Muscles barely honed begin to atrophy as the workings of the world fulfill Jake’s desires in the only way they care to. Rob’s stubbled chin begins to grow smooth and hairless as he begins his transformation into Jake’s trophy twink. His sweaty hands, sculpted to a playstation controller claw at the back of the couch as he struggles to climb up and see what is happening to Je-Jake. Fingers thin and nails shine with polish and attention. He feels his stomach contract as he gasps in desire as his, lover, has only continued to grow.

While his own chest and torso begin to suck in and smooth over, Jake’s has only continued to expand and amass power. Hair begins to pour from every pore on the new man as he bloats larger. Jake’s legs burn with power as his figure converts child bearing hips into dense powerful thighs and a waist that will allow him to keep his slutty twink bouncing for hours in bed. Meanwhile Robbie’s does precisely the opposite, waist thinning out to be easily grabbed and manhandled by his tank. Standing next Alex the man almost goes feral with the need to mount his mate as his rough hands clench the counter with a fury.

The already sparse hair on Robbie’s form sloughs off as Jake aggressively scratches at dense hair growing thicker in his pits before shifting to claw at his stubble as it becomes a thick messy beard on his face. Drool drips from his mouth as he groans with a voice that grows decibels deeper with each haphazard breath, Jake glowers at the feminine figure biting his lip as it bloats larger, moaning and posing on the couch as his hair lengthens and curls. It’s all Jake can do to avoid climbing like an animal over their kitchen island to pounce on the twink languishing on the couch, his skin softening and growing more supple by the second.

Alex watches disinterested as Rob grows thin, docile, hungry for pleasure that only Jake will be able to offer. He sees Jake become the man he always yearned to be, the man he was always going to be. In his mind's eye he sees the scene that will happen as soon as he leaves, as soon as he allows it. Furniture broken, not for the first time, as the pair fuck as if there was nothing else in the world but sexual fulfillment, perhaps there is nothing else in the world. Alex ponders the paths that the world may go down if this is to be the case, he searches for futures that don’t go down this route and struggles to find one.

Hearing Jake chomping at the bit, struggling with the urges of a new powerful pair of blue balls, and seeing Robbie’s mouth reflexively hang open with lustful abandon he understands that his work here is done. He nods at the new beast and Jake as he has always wanted jumps his fiance. Robbie is all too happy to be put in his place by a man who is more than he ever could be. Alex watches for a moment but despite his embrace, if not understanding, of his role in this tapestry, he knows he has work yet to do as his own form begins to ephemerally change.

He turns to leave and shuts the door behind him, barely dulling the sound of shattering glasses and fervent moans behind him. Down the hall he hears the festivities he set forth earlier have not stopped, in fact it sounds as if the neighbors to the apartment have joined in on the fun. Alex is sullen as he looks down the hallway, seeing tendrils launching forth from his footprints into each and every apartment passed. Masculine moans abound, deepening in some and rising higher in others. Flashes of cowboys getting creative with lasso, smoke seeping under door frames as once powerful executives try to hotbox their suite, pajamas shifting into uniforms before being removed with haste. Men fighting against their own changing lusts and bodies, and others who are more than happy to give into them. And Alex can do nothing but deliver, accelerate, and watch.

Something of a unique figure in this situation thanks to Nicky, Alex maintains his wits despite his urges to join in on the ‘fun’. Work yet to do, he flexes to simply use some of the energy building within him and his form graciously expands once more. His shorts turn to briefs which leave little at all to the imagination. Sighing, the melancholy psychopomp is nevertheless pleased with what an impressive figure he has become. Holding one final delivery in hand he sets off to the place he has all along said he would. Holding but a small package of rangoons with Nicky’s name on the receipt he takes the elevator down to the ground floor.

Alex pointedly doesn’t look towards Jirou Heroes as he exits onto the street, bestowed with whatever power Nicky unwittingly did, he is well aware of what he would see if he were to look anyway. With the solemnity of the reaper which he is, Alex walks into the cafe to see Simon has arrived ahead and broken the news less than gracefully. His beefy arms are around the catatonic haphazard spellcaster as Simon, kind but incable, tries to make right the impossible. Explain the incoherent, make Nicky aware of what is going on so they may work all of it out together. Alex purses his lips and hesitates before smiling morosely at his friend and offers forth the smallest bit of levity, “Rangoons for Nicky?”

To say his eyes fall is not accurate, his hands cover his mouth as he sees the direct handiwork of his twisted words. Where his irises should be there are only deep red pits, “This isn’t what I wanted. Why would I want any of this.” The Talisman he never truly asked for glows red enough to be seen through his shirt, Alex and Simon both see it and instantly understand that this is the true source of what happened at the gym, what is happening next door, what is happening in the cafe around them had they the bandwidth to notice. 

In the eye of a hurricane of change, Simon grabs Nicky’s hand and squeezes, Alex puts his new meaty palm on his dear friend’s shoulder. Understanding there is no time to waste, Nicky bucks up and with the support of these two men he has irrevocably changed, opens his eyes and grabs at the talisman. Though not at all knowing what he should do, he knows and Alex assures him that it must be done right now. His hands tremble and his eyes tear up from the pressure, red tears dripping down his cheeks. And then he does what must be done.

Potentialities:

Ah poor poor Nicky, lotta pressure on the guy let’s see what he ends up doing! While the others have primarily been choosing between transformations these last lot are choosing the ending, all will hold transformations galore of course!

Post’ll go up on Sunday as usual but it’ll last a week as I’m probably going to take the week of Christmas off haha!  

World Peace - 47.2%

Well now, is it not the real responsible thing when granted unlimited power to ensure that all problems are solved? What could go wrong when something already twisting desires and morphing every living being it can get its hands on receives explicit permission to work globally. Nothing untoward I’m sure.

Self-Sacrifice 26.7%

No time to think, alas the guilt ridden and noble Nicky says take me instead. Instantly we return to the mystical non-place where this all started. After a bit of chat, gambling, and discussion of what a big ask it is to not only end but undo the changes. The man who gave him the power to change it all decides what, or whom, his sacrifice is worth.

Pass the Buck 26.1%

Alex and Simon are here aren’t they? Surely a man already morosely writing off the world and another whose mind has been described as ‘gears barely turning’ a half-dozen times can figure something out.

[zyafics]

I LOVE YOU SO | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Imagine)

Pairing — Ex!Rafe x Engaged!Female Reader

Content — ex-lovers au, hurt/no comfort, right person/wrong time

Word Count — 1.6K

lıllılı I Love You So by The Walters

THINKING ABOUT... when Rafe heard about your engagement, he nearly drank himself to death.

THINKING ABOUT... how the invitation sat on the kitchen counter, next to empty bottles of whiskey. He hoped to drown himself in liquor and forget the taste of you—but nothing remedied that pain. His fingers traced over the sharp edge of the card to the calligraphy that spelled your name alongside your soon-to-be-husband's.

THINKING ABOUT... how it should've been him.

THINKING ABOUT... how Sarah found him. It had been days since she heard from her older brother and decided to drop by Tannyhill. When she discovered wasn't a pretty sight. He was still feeding himself on alcohol—and alcohol alone—while staring at the name on the card, gripped in his hand as if it was his own personal damnation. He knew, without a doubt, that the invitation was a common courtesy. Forged out of respect and generational relationships on Kildare. It wasn't a true invite—not to him, at least.

THINKING ABOUT... how Sarah tried to help him clean up. Tried to take the glass from his hand, which he accepted. Tried to pull him up from the couch and push him into the bathroom, which he agreed. Tried to rip the card from his hand—which he refused. She never liked seeing her brother in such despair, and despite knowing the long history you shared with him, she didn't want him to get wasted on the forgotten thought of you.

THINKING ABOUT... when Rafe exited the shower, fresh and clean from the oozing smell of alcohol, Sarah had the card in her hands. She noted that Rafe hadn't checked a box—an ACCEPT or DECLINE. And when she asked him if he was going to attend, he didn't give an answer.

THINKING ABOUT... how you're marrying a man who loved you. He cherished you and saw you as the apple of his eye. It was different from your other relationship. Granted, you only have one before him, but you can tell the difference. It was calm, safe and warm. It didn't shake you to your core, it didn't have you screaming at three am, it didn't have to be hard. It was good. Healthy. It was soon to be yours.

THINKING ABOUT... how this wasn't the dream wedding you wanted since you were a little girl. Sure, it had most of the elements: the ceremony at the church, the gorgeous bouquet in your hands, the perfect ensemble of bridesmaids. But it wasn't exactly how you pictured it. It wasn't within the season you wanted, it wasn't outdoors like you imagined. It didn't have the specific floral arrangement you asked for, and it didn't have the boy you were going to meet at the end of the aisle.

THINKING ABOUT... how it felt all wrong.

THINKING ABOUT... how you couldn't breathe in your room. All the guests had settled in, all of them waiting for the bride to begin her descent. You were pacing around, to the comforting reassurances of your bridesmaids, but to no avail. You needed air. You needed to step out.

THINKING ABOUT... how you saw him when you stepped into the empty courtyard. Everyone had taken their seats, but not Rafe. He was standing outside, holding something you were certain to be a flask. You hadn't expected him to show. You weren't sure if you wanted him to. But when your heels clicked against the cobblestone and alerted Rafe of your presence—he twisted his head and your eyes finally locked.

THINKING ABOUT... how it was a slow and mesmerizing descent. You approached him with caution, as if you were approaching a wild animal and one wrong move could cause him to run. You shared no words, no thoughts, nothing. But the silence was communal and appreciated. When you made it against the barricade, Rafe did nothing but offer you his flask.

THINKING ABOUT... how his hand stretched out, flexing underneath his tailored suit. You stepped up to gingerly accept it—tasting the bitter alcohol slid down your throat and the closest remnant of his lips. You didn't say anything for the next few minutes, not even a paid gratitude, because you didn't know how to. it was Rafe who decided to speak up first.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe didn't look at you as he talked. His attention paid to the lot of the church, his words a whisper against the whistling wind. He depicted his own imagination—how he would've done it. How he would've gotten on one knee in that little park the two of you always went together. How it would've been a beach wedding because you always loved the ocean. How he would've gotten a wedding band with sapphires because you adored the color.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe rambled about the what ifs until you told him to stop.

THINKING ABOUT... how there was a palpable silence that sat between you as you handed him back his flask. Your head a little light, your heart a little heavy. You should've gone back to the church, to the awaiting audience of your family and friends, but you stood still. You wanted this time, this space, this moment with Rafe because you were certain it was going to be your last.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe had enough and stepped forward to cup your face. His cerulean eyes fell to your lips before eyeing every little expression, memorizing every little detail. "It should've been me," he murmured, running his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the last drop of his whiskey. His jaw ticked as he forced out the next sentence. "Why isn't it me?"

THINKING ABOUT... how you said nothing. You both knew the reasons, but neither of you wanted to accept it. Rafe had prioritized himself over your relationship, again and again, and there was nothing but a hollowness by the end of it. He loved you, you knew that for certain, but it was also not enough.

THINKING ABOUT... how you had to step back. You pushed him away, needing another clarifying breath of air. Rafe didn't move from his spot, simply slipped his thumb into his mouth, tasting the last drop, before you shook your head. "What are you doing here?" You demanded, because despite knowing everything going on inside the church, everyone waiting for you, you still were the same person you were years back—with him.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe couldn't answer fully. He didn't know why he was here. He didn't know what compelled him to put himself through the agonizing pain of seeing the love of his life walk down the aisle of her wedding, toward a man that wasn't him. It was sadistic, a need to feel the depth of his mistakes, and perhaps, even a last shot of hope for him to remedy it.

THINKING ABOUT... how he apologized. It had surprised you to hear the words spill from his lips because Rafe had always been stubborn in handing them out. He saw himself above such expressions and held his pride too high. But it was his last shot. And he wanted to make his amends before it was too late.

THINKING ABOUT... how there was a silence when he finished his speech. How he expressed regret for how he treated you, how he made you feel, in how he was as a past partner. You had nothing while you held onto those words because they were something you wished for all your life. But, now it came. A little too much. A little too late.

THINKING ABOUT... how you forgave him. And it wasn't fair. You had always been too kind and understanding. He was the one repenting but you had already given him the forgiveness he hadn't yet sought for. You've been told that you should make him suffer. Beg for it. But you didn't. Because you knew what he had been through. What good does it do to inflict suffering when neither of you enjoys it?

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe had nothing else to say. Didn't know what to think of. Wait, yes, he did—he had hoped it would be enough. That you would hear his words and be a runaway bride for him. But you didn't. You remained stationed in your spot, your eyes intermittently flickering toward the entrance of the church. It wasn't until one of your bridesmaids came to collect you—warning you it was time, that he realized there was nothing else to do.

THINKING ABOUT... how you hesitantly bid him goodbye. You were going to see him during the reception, but Rafe didn't answer you. When you finally close the distance towards your bridesmaid, you spare one last glance at him—Rafe Cameron, your first love, the person who had half of your heart, the one who didn't do enough—and step back into the church.

THINKING ABOUT... how you didn't see him when you walked down the aisle. Or when you came around to take pictures. Or when the reception was held. You should feel ashamed for seeking out another man when your fiance—now husband—had his hand on your waist, his eyes filled with adornment for you. But you couldn't help yourself.

THINKING ABOUT... how you tried to forget. Tried to enjoy your day, your wedding. As the night came to an end, your husband carried you back to your new home. But what you weren't expecting was a surprise.

THINKING ABOUT... how there's an arrangement of bouquets outside your new home. It was in the exact precise order you wanted for your dream wedding. It was littered all over your front lawn, spilled with rich colors and florals that you gasped at the sight. You didn't know who it was from—neither did your husband. But when you approached the door, there was a note taped to the front.

THINKING ABOUT... how it was from Rafe. An apology and a gift wrapped in one. It didn't say much, but you didn't need it to. You knew his guilt, you knew his regret, but you knew his concession. And this, this was his last offering before he finally let you go.

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[dontbesoweirdkira]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of platonic Yandere Dick and batsib where batsib is getting harassed(hope I spelled it right) at school or online but can’t find Jason or the others so finally gives in and asks Dick for help on how to handle the situation?

A/N: Yes, ofc! Thank you for requesting. I was originally never going to post the og headcanon because i thought people wouldn't like a darker take on him. I'm so happy you guys do. its actually dick just cyber bullying you into coming to him loll

Warnings: concepts of online harrassment, but it's mainly fluff.

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

"Sweetie, don't cry. Tell your big brother what happened, okay?" Dick's voice cooed as he used his thumb to gently wipe away your tears.

This wasn't a position you imagine yourself to be in. You never figured you'd be coming to Dick for anything. Ever. Let alone comfort. For the past few months of being in Wayne's house, you've avoided your older brother like the plague. There wasn't any circumstance you wanted to be around him, you didn't particularly like him for your own reasons. Jason was the one you found the most comfort in. He made you feel safe and at ease unlike Dick.

But Jason wasn't here right now. He and the others were taking their shift on patrol and they wouldn't be back at least until the sun rose. Dick was the only one home and available to help with the situation at hand.

~~~~

You had recently started up a social media account with much persuasion from your sibling, Barbra. It was just supposed to be something wholesome to better connect with the other siblings as it was a frequency they used. You weren't too fond of the whole thing, it was slightly anxiety inducing but you agreed to make them happy. They felt bad about sharing so many family photos without you being as they were all proud to show you off.

Unexpectedly, you kind of got into it. You started spending quite a few hours scrolling posts and sharing videos to your siblings, even deciding to make a few of your own...not thinking much of it.

It was great and all of the feedback was positive, mainly being from your sibling or school friends. It was a fun and rather safe escape for you to enjoy on your downtime.

That was until you finally decided to check your laptop after a few days away. To your surprise, lots of new notifications flooded your inbox. Maybe your post went viral or something, you excitedly thought to yourself.

The excitement quickly died down after reading through every comment and message you received during your hiatus. Copious amounts of vile content flooded your eyes. Most of them attacked your appearance or the fact you were 'just another pitiful orphan'. But nothing disturbed you like the dm you received that was filled with death threats and altered photos of you.

Mixed feelings of terror, anxiety and sadness overtook your body. You were never one to cry much but this, this did something to you. The only thing you wanted was to be held. Your safe space was ripped from you and turned into a heinous landfill, you felt so violated. You knew that person was only behind a screen but what if they were coming for you? What if it was an enemy of your family? You weren't nearly as trained or half as capable as your siblings and this person probably knew that. What if they're not around and that person captures you..

You didn't want to die. You didn't want to be their target….

~~~~~

You could sense the blood boiling beneath Grayson's skin as told him all that happened. For once in your life you seen his smile drop and his eyes growing dark., his sky blue eyes were nearly a deep black. He couldn't stop the fury from seeping into his vein as he thought about all the ways to get his revenge on the person who made you like this.

He never wanted to see his baby sister in this state, he didn't like that you couldn't enjoy yourself. He felt so guilty, this was his fault. He gave the green light to Babs about the social media thing when she brought it up to him. How could he be so stupid? Why didn't he think about the possibility of something like this?

It was supposed to be something to get you out of your shell and closer with them, not a breeding ground for degenerate fuckers like that.

He was silent for a while, entrapped in his own mind and anger before you tugged on his shirt.

"..Dick, please help me. I'm so scared. I really don't want to die. What am i going to do?" Your words were almost inaudible as you choked over them. The few lone tears turned into a heavy stream. You needed him to make this all go away. It was too much for you to handle alone.

Your plea for his help snapped him out of his thoughts. Dick's heart nearly crumbling at the cracks in your voice. He loved you so much and making sure you knew you were safe was the most important thing. The plotting could wait, there was plenty of time to take care of them. Softening his face, he flashed you his pretty smile, and took your hands in his.

"Do you think your older brother, Dick, would ever let them come through these doors and hurt you?"

You shook your head and rubbed at your puffy, red eyes.

"My sweet birdie. You have to know as long as i'm living, you'll be safe."

Dick hesitantly opened his arms out for a hug, not sure if you'd be willing to accept it this time. To his surprise, you did. Practically throwing yourself into his embrace, you wrapped you arms around his neck and sobbing in the crook of his neck.

You tightly held onto him as you nuzzled your head as deeper into it. Maybe you were wrong in your judgement of him?,,,or maybe it was the heat of the moment, but something about this was actually…nice. You never had a hug that felt as warm and protecting as this was now. There was just something so precious about the he handled you with so much care. It was as if you were made out of some kind of delicate material.

A feeling of regret rushed your body as you thought back to all the times you avoided and othered him. Was this what you were missing all those times?

You could've been getting love like this but you willingly rejected it all. Stupid.

"...I'm sorry,,,"

A curious hum left his voice as he wondered what you could be referring to. None of this was your fault nor was coming to him any sort of burden.

",,,for y'know.”

You could feel his head gently tilt to the side as he was still confused as to what you meant.

“I've been a bad sister to you, dick. I’m so sorry.” Your shaky voice was pitched high as you fought against your tears.

Shaking his head, he rubbed circles on your back.

Richard held his own breath for a moment, processing the words you just said. It was almost unbelievable to hear those words escaping from your mouth. Almost as unbelievable for you to finally be in his arms like this, at your most vulnerable. A fuzziness started in the depths of his stomach and exploded his body in bliss.

This was a long awaited feeling he so desperately had been craving. At that moment, all of his patience was worth it. All he ever wanted was to be your safety net, your best friend and he’s finally getting it. He wanted you to hug him like this forever. He wanted you to be safe right here in his arms. This was everything he could ask for.

Pay offs like this confirms he chose right in prioritizing his family over everything. His tendencies weren’t indeed crazy but necessary. He’s the backbone of the bats.

Dick’s muscular arms tightening in their embrace, gave you a nice squeeze.

"If you were a bad sister, i wouldn't love you as much as i do. The world doesn't deserve an angel like you, neither do i."

Dick breaks the hug and puts your hands in his once more. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead and there's a beat that passes as he's observing you. His smile is wider than ever. To him, you're the most perfect sibling he could ever ask for.

"I'll do whatever it takes, even bending a few rules, if that means you can sleep peacefully. I’m your nightwing."