#tell me how your day has been so I can live vicariously through you

[canisalbus]

✦ Trick or treat ✦

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Mirotic

warnings: college!au frat party setting cuz i live vicariously thru fics, chan and reader are music majors, mirror sex, dirty talk, oral(f receiving), hair pulling, semi-rough sex, cocky chan, slim thick reader(really i just mention readers ass a lot), some self deprecating comments, weed usage, unprotected sex, squirting, having sex on someone else’s bed, i think that’s it lol

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts forever and I just never finished it. think imma start working on an ateez fic after i post this one but we’ll see. hope whoever reads this is having a good day/night and that you enjoy it! ~ nero

chan x female reader

word count: 5.4k

You parked your car on the side of the street knowing that it would be the easiest way for you to get back after leaving the party. You were coming up on the end of the semester and your friend Jisung was adamant that you needed to take a break. Take the edge off the imposing doom of finals and come to the party his frat was hosting. The aura frat parties brought was never really your essence, but you’d never turn down a free drink so you thought why not. 

Stepping out of the car and brushing out your skirt you shut the door and began the trek to the building. You could hear the bass from the music echo outside, neon lights adorning the front of the frat and you felt your stomach drop a little. Suddenly feeling somewhat nervous. 

I wonder if Chan is gonna be here tonight

You thought to yourself and suddenly you became critical of your outfit. It’s not that you looked bad, it’s just now you were wondering if it would catch enough of his attention. 

Chan was one of Jisung’s best friends. He wasn’t in the frat technically, but he was around so much that they almost considered him an honorary member. Chan had also been in your music theory classes for the past three years and over time you developed a small crush on him but had never done anything about it. You’d much rather chew on your crush, hiding it in the deepest parts of yourself and keep it platonic rather than embarrass yourself by outing your feelings. 

You finally reached the front steps of the frat house only to be greeted by none other than Chan himself.

“Hey! Y/n, how are you? I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

He held his red solo cup out to the side so he could give you a hug

“Hey Chan, I didn’t know you were gonna be here either. Ji insisted that I needed to take a break from preparing for finals.” you chuckled out

“Ugh, tell me about it. I know juries are coming up in a few weeks but I have no motivation to work on my pieces.”

“That’s exactly how I feel! But ya know we’re so close to being done we might as well just power through, ya know.”

Chan sighed

“Yeah, you’re right, but still.”

Letting out an airy chuckle, his attention seemed to divert for a moment. You looked at him trying to figure out where his mind went and you almost didn’t catch it, but you caught him raking over your body.

“Wanna go grab a drink? I feel bad keeping you right here at the door”

You nodded, following him inside the front door. Passing through the entryway, you realized how packed it was this time around. This wasn’t your first party Jisung invited you to, but it was definitely the first one where the house was almost completely packed. Forcing you to slide sideways through crowds of people

Guess everyone needed the night off

“Y/N, do you want punch or something from one of the coolers?”

It wasn’t Chan’s voice that brought you out of your thoughts but rather his hand resting on your lower back and his head coming to your ear so that you could hear.

“Ummm, I think I’ll do the punch for now. Are there any truly’s in the cooler?”

“I think so yeah.”

Walking over to the cooler you bent down to sift through all the cans. What you didn’t realize was that while you were digging through the variety of drinks, Chan was watching your every move. Watching every curve of your body bend with the way you moved. He almost lost his composure watching you finally stand up from your crouched position, your skirt riding up a tiny bit and your ass being accentuated. Turning around he had a solo cup waiting for you.

Shaking the truly can you looked at him and smiled

“Gotta add just a little extra”

“Oh, my bad I guess I should’ve asked”

You furrowed your brow wondering what he meant until you looked down at the cup and saw that he had filled it nearly to the brim

“God damn Chris! I know you’re a giver but shit!”

You laughed out. Taking the cup, you brought it to your lips and sucked down about a quarter of the punch so that you’d have room to add your truly to the mix in the cup. 

“It will never not amaze me how you put away alcohol. It’s impressive honestly.”

You looked up at him after meticulously topping off your drink and finishing the truly in one go.

“It’s just cuz I’m fat, it takes a lil longer to metabolize for me. I feel it but not quickly.”

Chan rolled his eyes and looked at you with a slight glare.

“I’m kidding, damn! You don’t gotta eat me alive with your eyeballs”

“Y/N, you know I don’t vibe with you talking bad about yourself”

“But is it really talking bad about me if it’s a joke? Cause if that’s the case, I got a lot of beef with how you talk about yourself.”

Chan went to open his mouth but then immediately closed it after he considered that you were also right.

“That’s what I thought”

You smiled to yourself, finding amusement in the situation.

“Have you seen Ji, by the way? I wanna say hi to him before I forget tonight.”

Chan whipped his head towards you

“You plan on drinking that much??”

“Only if I get left unattended.”

“Well, then I guess that means you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of the night. And actually, I think he’s upstairs at the pong table.”

“Shall we go?”

Chan nodded and held his hand out. You eagerly took it while he led you through the house and up to the second level in the loft where the ping pong table was. There was already a game of beer pong in play so you just watched off to the side, noticing that Jisung had his turn next. Walking up to the edge of the table he noticed the two of you standing off to the side.

“Hey lovebirds! Lemme get this shot real quick”

Chan removed his hand from yours, Jisung’s comment making the blood rush to his ears. You paid no mind to it, even though you did kinda miss the feeling of his hand in yours. Jisung tossed his ball and it sank into a cup almost in slow motion

How is he always so good at this game?

He threw his fists in the air and walked over to you guys. Giving Chan a bear hug, he softened his body language when he turned to you.

“You made it!”

“Yes, I did. I figured you were right”

You giggled out.

“So what was with the hand holding? Y’all finally together?” 

Unbeknownst to you, Jisung was teasing Chan. Chan had told Jisung in passing that he may have a crush on you. You also had told Jisung about your crush on Chan but never expected him to do anything about it. Obviously, Jisung had other plans that he informed neither of you about. He was trying his best to take advantage of this information and see if he could get it out of him in front of you. But before Chan could answer, you but in, saving him from his own embarrassment.

“Ji, it’s not like that! He just gave me his hand so it’d be easier to come up here. There are hella people downstairs. It’s crazy!”

You widened your eyes as a small warning to Jisung not to push it any further. He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Uh huh, whatever you say.”

You sucked your teeth and looked down the hallway trying to hide your own embarrassment. Searching for another topic quickly your eyes widened again. 

“Ji! Is your balcony “off limits” tonight?”

“Yesss. Why you ask?”

“Well I might have a lil something something that I’d like to put to use”

“If you’ve got an extra joint to put in my nightstand by all means head to my room”

You hugged him, more than excited to get faded tonight as well. You looked over at Chan trying to get a gauge on where he was, but you couldn’t quite read him.

“Channnn, what you wanna do right now?”

“Huh, uhh, I kinda wanna play a round of pong”

You and Jisung spoke in unison

“For real?!”

Your mouth hung open and Jisung took the reigns

“Dude I haven’t seen you play literally since freshman year. You think you still good?”

“I used to whoop your ass at this Hannie, don’t get cocky now.”

Jisung laughed, bringing his hands together to rub.

“Well, if you’re playing that means Y/n’s gotta play too.”

“What?! Why me?”

“Cause baby, you never play and you should”

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

Chan set his cup down on the banister he was leaning on and faced you fully.

“How bout we make a bet? You be on Jisung’s team 'cause he’s gonna need help and then we can bet for the winner.”

Jisung’s mouth hung open.

“You’re wrong for that one man.”

Chan just laughed.

“If you guys win, you can pick a punishment of whatever for me. I’ll give you time to think about it since I know how you are. But if I win…I get to smoke whatever you brought over and..”

He paused, leaning down to your ear to whisper the next part

“...I get to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate sped up. Heat immediately pooled between your thighs and you weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol finally taking over, Chan’s bet throwing you into an overdrive, or both. You took a deep breath and held your hand out.

“Deal.”

Jisung was looking at the two of you, wondering what the second part of the bet was. Narrowing his eyes he walked back over to the table to set up the cups for another round.

Needless to say, having Jisung as a partner was straight ass. He’d get a few good shots here and there, but Chan was a beast at the game for no reason. You really didn’t stand a chance from the beginning. With one last cup on either side, it was your shot. Your ball hit the edge of the cup on Chan’s side and you dropped your head in defeat. 

You didn’t even wanna give Chan the chance to shoot his ball because you knew he’d make it anyway. So, you picked up the cup and began to bring it to your lips, but before you could, you felt liquid splash into your face. Looking down in the cup you saw the ping pong ball floating in your cup and you looked over a Chan to see his tongue in his cheek smiling. 

“Asshole.”

You called out over the music.

“Ji you fucking suck!”

You laughed while pushing him on his shoulder

“Hey, I never said I was good baby. I just said I liked to play.”

Jisung came to your ear to whisper something

“What was the second half of his bet?”

You moved so he could hear you.

“I’ll tell you later.”

You giggled and chugged back the liquid in the cup. Chan walked over to your side of the table and motioned down the hallway.

“Wanna go smoke?”

“Uhh, yeah sure. Ji, you cool if we go?”

“Yeah that’s fine, just don't fuck on my bed.”

“Ohhh my god, dude.”

Chan chuckled but you were already making your way down the hallway, Jisung called out to you

“Make sure to leave the joint please!”

“Got it dickhead!”

“Love you!”

“Sure you do”

You mumbled under your breath. Making your way to his door, you walked in and waited for Chan to catch up. Once he did, you locked the door to make sure no one else would try and come out to the balcony as well. Digging in your bag, you found the joint and left it on his bedside table, and left an extra lighter. Knowing Jisung he probably lost the last one anyway. Turning around, you looked at Chan.

“Okay so I only have my bubbler because my pipe is gross, are you cool with that?”

“It’s your weed how am I gonna tell you how to smoke it?”

“Well part of your bet was to smoke my shit so I just wanted to make sure”

You chuckled a bit to make sure he knew that your comment was said in jest. You walked to the balcony door and laid out your stuff so you could pack a bowl. Chan followed you outside but didn’t say anything. You could tell he wanted to but he was holding back.

“Sooo, about your bet…you wanna fuck me?”

“Y/N, I- I don’t know what came over me when I said that, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Really it’s up to you and if you don’t want to then that’s cool too. Really, I don’t wanna ruin shit between us.”

You smiled to yourself as you finished filling the bubbler with water. 

“Who said I didn’t want to?” 

You looked up at him, eyes doe-like. The angle that you were at making him feel a little unhinged. You were on the floor setting everything up in fear of something falling out of your hands. So the way your eyes translated from the floor up to him, he felt his cock twitch behind the stiffness of his jeans.

“Wait, you want to?”

“Don’t you hear good? I just said that.”

You laughed again, your heart racing and now nerves were getting to you. You felt it on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say it, to finally tell him but you didn’t want him to run away. 

Fuck it. 

“I… kinda like, like you like you. So I’m not terribly opposed to the idea of having sex with you. I want to actually”

Silence. Your heart dropped to your ass. You just fucked up. Handing the bubbler up to him, he simultaneously was coming down to your level to sit across from you. Wanting to change the subject you spoke again.

“Winner hits first. And please corner the bowl and not set the whole thing on fire, you dork.”

He looked up at you and something in his eyes had changed. He looked a lot less nervous. Before taking his hit he looked at you again and opened his mouth to speak.

“I like you like you too.”

He smiled and took a hit from the bowl. 

“Shut up.”

“I do!” 

Even in the pale moonlight shining on the both of you, you could tell he was going red again. 

“Gimme the weed before I start screaming. I can’t believe this. How long?”

You took a long hit. 

“How long what?”

Holding in the smoke and exhaling slowly, you handed the bubbler back to Chan. 

“How long have you liked me for?” 

“Since our second semester in freshman year…”

“Freshman year?!! Dude you’ve been holding out on me.”

He took his drag and handed the bubbler back to you. 

“What about you?”

You looked up at him, hinting at your answer. 

“It’s the same time wasn't it?” 

“…yeah.”

You bowed your head embarrassed once again

“So You have no room to talk!” 

Before you spoke you felt your body fall into its state of being crossed. Suddenly your eyes became heavy and you felt your reservations begin to melt away. 

“Yeah but you’re the man! You’re supposed to tell me first!” you said giggling

“Yeah, and you’re hot! So I was nervous every time I came around you. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t wanna mess up our friendship.” 

You took another hit before handing it back to Chan. 

“God. We’re both idiots.” 

You slammed your face in your palm and waited for Chan to finish. He went to hand it back but you passed your turn, knowing you had already hit your peak. 

“You finish it, I'm gone.” 

You watched him light the last of the bowl and something about the way he looked doing it sent palpitations straight to your core. You were fluttering around nothing and couldn’t do anything about it. You wanted him and you wanted him bad. But you refused to make the first move, you couldn’t. You had too much pride. You shifted your position, and the pressure from your legs made your eyes wanna roll to the back of your head. Watching him clear the smoke and blow it away from you sent you over the edge.

He’s so hot

As if he knew your thoughts, he turned to look at you, his tongue buried in his cheek again with a smug grin. 

“Whatcha thinking about Y/n?” 

“You.”

Your mouth moved before your brain did and you didn’t entirely regret it. 

“Really now?”

Chan leaned forward and you bit your lip looking at him through hooded eyelids. 

“Mhmm”

Chan placed the bubbler on the ground and you placed a hand on his knee, slowly making your way up his thigh. You looked at him again head on, and the look in his eyes was completely blown over by lust. 

“Why don’t you come over here”

He chided. His smirk annoyed you but also set you ablaze. You untangled your legs and moved to straddle yourself across his lap. You wrapped your hands around his neck, one of your hands finding solace near the nape of his neck playing with his hair. Your eyes dropped to his lips and traced his face back up to his eyes, teasing him while also searching for permission. But again, your pride wouldn’t let you make the first move. You wanted him to show that he wanted you, but you so desperately needed friction.

You moved to reposition yourself, but in doing so you felt his bulge. His hands moved down to your ass, grabbing handfuls of the fat. Your eyebrows furrowed upwards, desire wreaking your sense of self. 

“You’re hard already? I haven’t even done anything”

“Can’t help it when you’ve got the sexiest girl sitting in your lap. And this ass… fuck”

He moaned out and guided your hips to roll over his jean clad cock one more time. 

“I need you, Y/N. But I need you to tell me you need me too because once I start I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then have me however you want, Chris. I need you so bad. Please, make me feel good.”

You whined out, rolling your hips against him one more time. He grabbed your face and his lips were on yours. Years of hidden desire and pleasure unleashed the moment your lips touched. You both had wanted this for so long and now the feeling of finally having him on you was almost too much to handle. His hands found their way back down to your ass again, squeezing and molding the flesh however he pleased. You moaned into his mouth, the licentious amalgamation of his mouth and his groping was enough to have your panties begin to stick to your lips. 

Chan swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking access to something that was already granted. Your tongues didn’t battle for dominance but rather battled all the lost time you two had created. There was lust, love, and a burning need for each other being expressed. His hands moved toward the hem of your shirt and you swiped it off your torso immediately. His hands reached around your back to remove your bra and as it fell his lips wrapped around your nipple. You moaned out, throwing your head back and grasping his hair in your hand.

“Shit~Chan.”

You felt him smile against you and you pulled away to look at him. He motioned you to move back, and as you stood up, he followed you and then pressed your back against the door to the balcony. His hands wrapped around your face and neck again, cradling you as he smashed his lips against your own. 

His hands traveled down your ass groping you once more, but what surprised you was what came out of his mouth next. 

“Jump.”

“What?”

“You heard me baby, jump.”

“But ion wann-”

“I said jump. I promise you, we’ll be fine.”

Shutting your brain off for a moment you listened to him. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine and another flutter to your core. You jumped and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He opened the door and placed you on Han’s bed. Chan crawled up to you, his face lingering over yours. He left a trail of kisses starting from your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts and he found himself again with his lips wrapped around your nipple. He continued his trail down to the hem of your skirt before you stopped him.

“Chan, wait. Ji said to not have sex in his bed.”

“What, are you gonna tell him?’

“Well, no.”

“Then we didn’t do anything in his bed.”

He smiled and almost made his way back to his destination before you stopped him with a whine.

“What is it, baby?”

“You still have your shirt on, it’s not fair”

Chan chuckled but swiftly removed himself from his shirt.

“Better?”

“Much.”

You smiled before he made his way back to the hem of your skirt and pulled it down exposing your black lace lined panties. 

“Aww, how cute. You were expecting something weren’t you?” 

“N-no. I just wanted to wear them.”

“Whatever you say, baby. But I have to ask, can I take them off of you now?”

“Fuck, please do.”

You moaned out and as soon as you gave the okay, you felt the cool air greet your wet pussy. 

“Such pretty little pussy. Can I eat you out, baby?”

“Fuckin hell Chris, please. Please do whatever you want to me. I want you in every way you can imah~!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Chan’s tongue swiped up your folds and his tongue played with your clit like a little bell. Swiping back and forth, up and down, he was eating you out as if you were his final meal.

“Shit shit shit, Chris. Oh my god”

He smiled against you.

“Fuck princess, say my name like that again.”

“Ch-chris! Shit, you’re so good at thi-”

You moaned out again, your back arching away from the bed as he entered two fingers into your wet cavern. Gripping at his locks, you felt the heat begin to stew in your lower body. It was like electricity was flowing through your lower half and you wanted nothing more than to implode on yourself.

“Channie, I’m about to cum, please don’t stop.”

“C'mon Y/N, you know what to call me. Don’t slip up or I’ll have to stop.”

“No no no Chris, please, please don’t stop. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so bad.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg.”

He dove back into your center, picking up the pace slightly as he curled his fingers inside of you. You began to flutter around him incessantly, your orgasm just on the precipice. The pressure that was building was almost unbearable and you couldn’t hold out for much longer.

“Chris, I-I”

“C’mon baby, cum for me”

That was all you needed. His permission and with that you came around him. It felt like such a big release. You couldn’t tell if your orgasm was that intense because what you had been wishing for had finally happened or if the fact of you being crossed was the culprit.

“Y/n, that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Han’s gonna be upset though.”

You looked at him confused. 

“What do you mean”

Chan looked down and you followed his eyes to the puddle that was seeping through the duvet cover on Han’s bed. Mortified you shoved your face in your hands. You were about to apologize when Chan moved your hands away from your face.

“Don’t you even think about apologizing. That was one of the sexiest things you’ve done this entire night and I kinda want to see if I can make you do it again.”

He smiled at you, but you could see the devious intent behind his kind facade. 

“Now I’d love to sit and admire you, but I really need to be inside of you Y/N.”

Chan moved from the bed to peel off his pants and he climbed back over you.

“Condom?”

“I’m uh, I’m on the pill”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, 100%. I want to feel you, all of you.”

“Fuckin hell baby, alright.”

Chan looked at you one last time before lining himself up with your entrance. He teased just his head and you mewled against him, trying to shove yourself down onto him. He chuckled before fully sheathing himself within you. You both moaned as he entered you fully, your breath hitching as he did. He started with a slow pace, so slow that it was agonizing. 

“Chris. Please, faster. I can’t take it.” 

“I’m not sure if you can take it, baby. I need to stretch you out a bit more, get you used to me” 

You gripped at the sheets moaning again

“I can take it. Please, please just go faster! Have me however you want. Make me yours.” 

At the end of your begging, you saw a switch flip. As if the sweetness that was Chan faded away and the person you were left with was far more immoral. Left with someone stricken by the pangs of lust and willing to do anything to satiate it. 

“God, you’re so fuckin hot” 

Chan picked up his pace and you realized you really weren’t ready. Chan grabbed your hips and began drilling into you. His cock was reaching you in places you never thought of. The tip of it kissed your cervix with every thrust and the pain transformed immediately into paramount pleasure. You could feel the ridges of his cock sliding in and out of you and you felt your senses start to become overstimulated. 

“Chris, fuck. Fuck oh my god!”

Chan looked down at you 

“Yeah? You feel good baby?”

“Yes, oh my god. Fuck you’re so big” 

You began fluttering around him again and your nails found themselves sliding down his back. Marking him as your own. He moaned out at the stimulation. 

“Wanna make sure everyone knows I’m yours, baby?”

You whimpered with a nod and rolled your head back into the bed. Suddenly he pulled out of you. Before you could complain why he had you flipped over on your hands and knees and reentered you from behind. 

“Fuuuckk. Chris!” 

“Oh, baby. Look at this ass, you’re so fuckin sexy.” 

With each thrust, the fat of your ass rippled against him and it made him feel just a bit more untamed. Chan was grabbing at your ass, moving it counter with his thrusts. His hand then trailed down your back to wrap in your hair and when you looked up you saw yourself in the mirror behind Han’s bed. 

“Look at my baby. All fucked out just from me, hmm?”

All you could do was moan in response. Thoughts were not coming in full, especially with the view of yourself looking right back at you. 

“Too dumb to answer me Y/N? Have I fucked you dumb, baby?”

Moaning out again you found your voice 

“Yes, yes! Just for you. All for you. You make me feel this good, Chris.” 

Chan removed his hand from your hair and wrapped it around your neck instead, pressing on the pressure points underneath your jaw. You squeezed around him, the choking sensation bringing you to your peak faster than you thought. 

“Aww my baby’s a little filthy, isn’t she? She likes being choked. I wonder what other filthy things you want me to do to you” 

You moaned out his dirty talk bringing you right to the edge. 

“Chris, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Please, please let me cum.” 

You practically sobbed. He was making you feel so good and you couldn’t handle it. His hand came down to rub your clit and bring you to the release you’ve been craving since he entered you. 

“Cum baby. Cum around me. Just one more time I know you can do it.” 

And there it was. Just as abrupt as the last, your orgasm shook you. Your core vibrating with waves of pleasure and your pussy squeezing around Chan’s cock. You began heavy breathing as Chan fucked you through your orgasm. 

“Please, cum inside me, Chris. I wanna feel you fill me up.” 

That was what pushed him over the edge. You felt his ropes of hot cum splat and pool against your walls. His moans landing right in your ear with his head resting against your shoulder blades. He slowed his pace down, riding out the waves of his orgasm. Pulling out slowly he rolled over onto his back and you did the same. 

“You squirted again.”

“Again?!! What the hell.”

He laughed 

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed by it. It tells me I’m doing a good job. So I’m not complaining.” 

“You’re gross” 

You punched his arm lightly. 

“Says the one that begged me to fill them up” 

“God please don’t repeat what I said out loud I’m gonna wanna run away.”

“But it’s so hot Y/N. You’re so beautiful and then the dirty little things that fall from your mouth. God. I can’t help but replay it.” 

You rolled on your side to look at him 

“Soo…”

“Sooour”

“I do not say it like that” 

“Yes, you do Chan.” 

Now the both of you were laughing both glowing in the aftermath of sex and finally confessing to each other. He moved a piece of hair from your face and looked at you with eyes full of wonder. 

“So I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I really do like you and I want us to continue this beyond just sex…so be my girlfriend?” 

“I think that’s the most forward I’ve ever heard you be.” 

“Oh shut up, just answer the question.”

“I’d love to” 

He made a small yes and double fisted at your answer 

“I think we should get food in the morning to celebrate our discovery about each other.” 

You laughed

“You’re such a dork. I think we should get food now because I am suffering severely from the munchies” 

A hearty laugh left him. His eyes crinkled and that smile that you love so much was plastered on his face. 

“One problem though.” 

He turned and pulled you closer to him, to which you moved to straddle him again. 

“We somehow gotta change Jisung’s sheets before he finds out.”

Chan sat up and you felt his cock begin to harden again. 

“We’ll I kinda want another round with you before we fully clean up.”

“I’m up for that” 

“Yeah?”

You nodded quickly and smiled at him before landing your lips on his. Grinding against him you felt him become fully hard again and before you two could continue you heard the lock on Jisung’s door turn to open. 

“Oh, c'mon! I thought I said to not fuck on my bed.”

[propertyofwicked]

people watching | spencer reid

spencer reid x bau!reader

inspo - people watching by conan gray

2.3k words

warnings: none really - canon character death, angst to comfort :)

they're counting months they've been together, almost 49

“y/n - how long have you worked with the BAU?” morgan asked, shooting you a smirk as you threw your head backwards with a load groan. 

“i don’t know? like, 4 years?”

“4 years, and 34 days, 2 hours and based on when we got called out for your first case, 34 minutes,” reid interjects the conversation without looking up from his file. 

“for someone who has worked here for 4 years, wouldn’t one assume that you would know we never get a whole week without a case?” morgan continued, ignoring reid’s comment, chuckling slightly at the face you pulled. you knew he was right, but something about garcia announcing there’s a new case made you grumpy. as a result you simply whined in response and pushed yourself up to walk to the round table room. morgan and jj walked ahead, but spencer stayed back to walk by your side. 

“hey, that made me realise we’ve been friends for 4 years - we should celebrate!” he said, not looking at you but carrying a smile on his face. 

“depending on the case, maybe we could do movie night when we get back?” you responded, but unlike him, you turned your head to respond to him. 

“that sounds good, did you know research has shown that spending time with loved ones, even doing something as mundane as watching a film, can increase your mental wellbeing?” this time he looked at you to respond, the smile still present on his face.

“so spending time with me is mundane?” you quipped, chuckling at the end of your sentence, so he’d know you were only messing. 

“reid, y/n, thanks for finally joining us,” hotch’s voice sounded across the room.

“sorry dad,” spencer joked, taking his seat next to alex.

they met in class for metaphysical philosophy

he tells his friends, "i like her 'cause she's so much smarter than me" 

they're having talks about their futures until 4:00 a.m

“hey spence?” you asked, filling the silence. the film you had been watching ending a while ago, but the two of you stayed sat on his sofa. at some point you had turned to face him, stretching across the chair with your legs over his. he didn’t mind - he compared it to the calming effects of a weighted blanket, rattling off the statistical benefits on anxiety. 

“yeah?” he looked up from his book, with a soft gaze in his eyes. 

“if you weren’t in the bau, what would you be doing right now?”

he paused for a moment, as if to think about his answer.

“i honestly don’t know. i don’t think i knew before i joined the bau either. had i not joined the fbi when i did, i think i’d still be in college just collecting degrees until i’d done them all,” he laughed to himself, “maybe a professor, i have taught a few classes.”

“i know - that’s how we met. you told that god awful joke about a horse who became hyper aware of his own reality.”

“hey! it wasn’t that bad.”

“spence - no one laughed.”

“you did.”

“and i regret that decision almost daily,” you respond, earning a light smack to the shin that was still thrown other his lap. 

“what about you? what would you be doing?”

“i used to think id be married by now but we both know how that ended,” you mention, referencing the ex boyfriend you and spencer both hated, “honestly though, i think id still be in the FBI but with counter intelligence like i had originally planned.”

“im glad you’re not,” he said with a smile. did he mean married or in a different department? you felt safer assuming the latter - it was safer to than getting your hopes up that some feelings might be reciprocated. so for now, you simply hummed in response and allowed the room to fall back into a comfortable silence. 

im only looking just to live through you vicariously ive never really been in love, not seriously

it was clear you had been mistaken, and in the most cruel and soul destroying way - through no fault but your own. he was happy, you could see. the way he no longer had bags living permanently under his eyes - he was sleeping. he’d sneak away to the payphone, assuming no one noticed. it started off serious, like he was only asking the other person direct questions. it didn’t stay that way. soon enough you found yourself sitting in the SUV, staring at him as he laughed into the phone, basically twirling the wire around his finger like a giddy teenage girl. spencer wasn’t yours anymore. you know he never was yours really, but still you held out hope that the lasting glances, the jokes, the comfort and the spontaneous movies nights meant something more to him. it was clear you had been mistaken. 

“you know if you keep staring at him like that your eyes might dry up,” JJ spoke from besides you one day. it made you jump - you hadn’t realised she was stood next to you and you certainly didn’t know how long she’d witnessed you staring at the side of spencer’s faces as he laughed and smiled over the phone. 

“i wasn’t staring,” you defended, but she gave you a look that said she knew you were lying, so you moved on, “who’s he talking to anyway?”

“we don’t know, but morgan and i think spencies got a girlfriend,” she taunted. you didn’t react, this wasn’t news to you - it didn’t take a profiler to work that out. jj didn’t say anything else, she just adjusted the strap of her bag and walked off to find hotch. eventually spencer put the phone down and walked over to you.

“hey you guys find anything?” he asked, it was a general question but it was clearly aimed at you. 

“nothing yet from me, garcia’s still digging stuff up on the victim though. it’s clear the unsub is organised, he’s been disposing these bodies for years, concealing their identities and he’s never been caught.” concealing their identities, you should know all about that reid, you thought to yourself but didn’t allow your face to waver.

“did you know that despite the rich history in the town, only 2,000 visit the area per year on average?”

“i didn’t, no.” it was a blunt response but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. but of course he did, mr 187 who couldn’t gauge most social cues but could tell when you were off with him. it wasn’t fair. how he could act like he loved you still, even though he clearly had someone worth keeping secret in his life. 

his hand reached up to rest on your shoulder, his tall frame towering over you, giving you an intense stare as he did.

“what’s up?” damn you and your profiling skills. you contemplated saying nothing, but that would only lead to more intense questioning, so you deflected, saying you were thinking about the profile. he seemed satisfied and left you to find hotch, just as jj had. 

cut people out like tags on my clothing i end up all alone but i still keep hoping

maeve was gone. that was her name, that was the woman that had made spencer happy in a way you couldn’t. she was gone, and emotionally, so was spencer. for weeks he moped, refusing to leave his apartment. but he was still your best friend. everyday, you sent him a message asking if he was ok, or needed anything, and everyday, it was left on read. whilst he needed his space, it wasn’t in your good conscience to leave him without support. 

walking up to his door was terrifying. why? you had been here thousands of times, spent hundreds of hours watching films on his sofa and yet your heart was beating so fast you felt as though it would tear through your ribcage and fall out on the floor in front of you. if spencer was here, he’d tell you that wasn’t physically possible and you’d more likely have a heart attack. he’d then reassure you by noting the statistical unlikeliness of having you having a heart attack. but he wasn’t, emotionally anyways. you knocked twice.

“go away garcia, i really appreciate everything you’ve done but please leave,” you heard him shout through the door. it was his voice alright, but deep and strained as if he had been crying for weeks - on second thought, he probably had.

“it’s me spence, not penelope. can you let me in?” you called back.

“no. please, i need some space.” ok, if that’s how he wanted to play it, tough love it was. 

“spencer reid if you do not open this door within the next ten seconds i will have morgan kick it down.” it seemed to work, you could hear a muffled sound of him standing up, shuffling across the floor and undoing the latch. you were not expecting the sight you saw when the door opened - it made your heart shred into tiny little pieces that you wanted to sew together and give to him. his hair was greasy, his facial hair had grown more than you’d ever seen it but worst of all, his skin was pale and his face seemed almost a hollow shell of the spencer you knew and loved.

“what do you want y/n?” he grumbled.

“i wanted to check in on you?” suddenly any tough love had gone out the window, and you doubted every word you said to him.

“ok, well im alive. you can go now.”

“spence ple-”

“i said i’m fine. y/n, i know you want me to sort myself out but im not ready to. please leave.”

“i don’t want you to ‘sort yourself out’ spence,” you paused to breathe, “you need to grieve, i understand that but i need you to look after yourself. however, you clearly don’t need me, you’re clearly coping so well on your own.” sarcasm was a defence mechanism - seeing him like that hurt you down to your very core, but they way he was treating you wasn’t fair. you turned on your heal, intending to leave with your dignity mostly intact, but as you go to take your first step a hand grabs you wrist, stopping you from moving.

“y/n, im sorry, please come in.” you offered him a restricted smile and stepped into this apartment, he followed close behind. you were expecting the worst, but this took it to another level. the curtains were drawn closed, takeout containers littered the counter, the floor and the coffee table - at least he was eating. spencer moved to the sofa, shoving books to the floor and offering you a seat. 

“talk to me spence, tell me everything going on in that big brain of yours.” and he did, you must’ve sat there for 2 hours as he told you about maeve, how he first contacted her, how she understood him, the way she laughed. he spoke about guilt, he believed it was his fault and that he’d never be able to forgive himself. only towards the end did he begin to cry, so you wrapped you arms around his torso and pulled him down to rest on your shoulder. to your surprise, his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight. the room fell into silence, as it had hundreds of time, but this one was not one of comfort as it usually was. 

after some time he sat up, “you know, IQ has no effect on the size of your brain. it may be cause a change in external appearance but the size itself will not change.” you couldn’t help but laugh - it wasn’t condescending, just the mere fact that he had spent two hours talking but still remembered to correct your original statement.

i wanna feel all that love and emotion be that attached to the person i'm holding

years passed since that day at spencer’s apartment. it took him a few more weeks, but he returned to work and returned to his normal self. he no longer thought of maeve, he thought of the future, he moved on in life whilst still holding a spot in his heart for her. soon, he became your best friend again - movie nights and take out were reinstated. sometimes he had to beg you to come round after a case to watch a movie. he remembered what life was like. 

that night was a night like many others. the credits rolled and the room became dark with no light blaring from the screen. silence. a comfortable one. tonight, you found yourself with your head laying on his lap, facing the tv, his arm rested on your hip and his fingers played with a hair tie absentmindedly. you said it was comfortable, he didn’t argue - spencer liked your presence. he appreciated you being in his life and never giving up on him. he admired your work ethic, and your friendship. you provided him an outlet, an escape from the stress and constant work.

“hey y/n,” he whispered, and you hummed in response, “i love you.”

“i love you too spencer.” your heart skipped a beat, but you knew he meant as friends, that’s all you were and all you’d ever be - you had grown to accept that. 

“no, y/n, i love you.” this made your head turn and you rolled onto your back to look up at him. “i mean it. i think i always knew deep down, but i couldn’t establish that that was what i was thinking. did you know studies show that some people have to feel love in order to love?”

“i love you too spencer.” you smiled up at him, squinting through your tired eyes, and his hand came down to stroke your cheek softly. 

[beskarandblasters]

Me and My Husband

Chapter Two: Drunk Walk Home

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set post season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), some liberties taken with Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, infidelity, eventual smut (chapter two!), switches between Reader and Din's POV, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: Your friend, Lumya, sets you up on a blind date that goes terribly. When you excuse yourself for some fresh air outside you run into Mando.

Word count: 3k

Chapter warnings: rotations = days, Reader does not know Din's name yet, your date is an asshole, drinking, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, small squabble between Din and your date, use of Mando’a words/phrases (translations included after)

You

It’s been seven rotations since your encounter with the Mandalorian at the Star-Lux. And you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, of course. During your employment at the inn you’ve met so many interesting characters, travelers from all over the galaxy. But you’ve never met a Mandalorian and he’s been the most intriguing person you’ve met so far. And he wasn’t even a guest. 

The way he snatched that bounty up in no time was impressive. Surely there had to have been some sort of scuffle; an unfair fight for the bounty of course considering not only how strong Mando is but also considering his armor and plethora of weapons he has. He’s a walking force to reckoned with… who’s also a bad flirt. His flirting was poor, downright pitiful, but there was also something endearing about it. There’s something sort of sweet about an intimidating Mandalorian who’s also bad with women. 

Nevertheless, that’s been the only excitement in your life as of late and it was only for a fleeting moment. Work has been sort of slow lately. The tourist season on Naboo is wrapping up and a lot of the interesting guests at the inn have left. You’ve never left Naboo and listening to the guest’s stories has been your way of “traveling”, living vicariously through the stories they tell. 

When you’re not working you’re usually at the library, reading books or downloading information on your holo pad about far off places that don’t even seem real. One day, you tell yourself, you’re going to have enough credits saved up to take a commercial flight to one of the planets you’ve read about, most likely Coruscant since the activities there are endless. But you’ve also had your sights set on Aldhani, but that planet is off the beaten path and really no commercial ships go there. You wouldn’t mind checking out Corellia, Morlana One, Ferrix, or even Glavis Ringworld, a ring shaped space station orbiting a star. The list goes on and on. Basically, you would go anywhere if it meant leaving Naboo for once. 

Today is another part of your monotonous routine; waking up, eating breakfast, getting ready and heading to the library, reading about places you’ll never go and feeling sick about it, head to the inn and go to work, go home and go to bed, and repeat. You’re leaving the library and heading to the inn when you bump into your friend, Lumya. A pit forms in your stomach. 

“Hey! Don’t forget you’re meeting Davin for drinks tonight!” she says cheerfully. 

“How could I forget,” you say with gritted teeth. 

“Don’t get too excited,” she responds, rolling her eyes, “Come on! You’ll like this guy. I’m sure of it. When have I ever been wrong?”

“Uhh, with all of the other guys you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“Shh, forget about that. This guy is the one, I’m telling you.”

“Whatever,” you laugh, “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow,” you finish, waving goodbye before leaving to go to work. 

“Can’t wait!” she laughs, walking the opposite direction. 

It’s true, her track record with setting up on dates has not been the best to put it kindly. This is the fifth blind date she’s sent you on and you’d rather do literally anything else. She better be right; this guy better be somewhat appealing because you’re getting off of work early for this stupid date. 

-

Work is… work. It’s been a slow night. You’re glad to be getting out early but you wish it was for a better reason. A date is better than being stuck at a boring shift you suppose. 

You change out of your work clothes in one of the inn’s refreshers, out of the clothes Mando last saw you in. This specific uniform is one of your favorites in your rotation; a dress with a revealing, square neckline that he most definitely checked you out in. You don’t blame him. 

You put on another dress, this one being a bit more modest; long sleeves, deep blue, and stopping at your mid thigh. You put your work uniform in your locker and head out, leaving the inn just as Maree, your relief for tonight arrives, You mouth a “thank you” to her as you pass by. It’s starting to get dark out and the streetlamps of Naboo are just about to be lit. It’s a beautiful place and part of you feels guilty for wanting to leave it so bad. But you know there’s more out there for you. 

You’re meeting this guy at Triton’s Tavern, closer to the center of Theed. That means it’ll be more expensive. Why did you let him pick the location again? Whatever, maybe he’ll pay. You arrive at Triton’s and wait outside for him. Kriff, what was his name again? …Oh, right. It’s Davin. 

“Hey there,” a voice calls from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder. You jump in surprise and the voice chuckles. You turn around and you’re met with a face you don’t recognize. It’s gotta be Davin. But what kind of person lays a hand on someone they’ve never met before? Oh great, this is gonna go swimmingly. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Davin and you must be Lumya’s friend.”

“That’s me,” you say, voice stiff and irritated. 

“Shall we head inside?”

“Sure,” the uneasiness evident in your voice. Gotta turn it off if you want this date to work out. 

You head inside and make your way over to a booth in the back corner of the tavern. He orders your first round of drinks; revnog, and asks you all sorts of probing questions about you. 

“So, Lumya tells me you work at the Star-Lux.”

“I do.”

“Isn’t that place kinda… seedy?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know… run down, some unsavory characters hanging around there.”

“What do you mean by “unsavory characters”?” you ask, head tilting to the side. 

“You know… like prostitutes, drug lords, petty criminals.”

I mean Mando did apprehend a criminal there but that’s besides the point. 

“First of all, none of that is true. And second of all, what if it was? Are you trying to tell me I’m a bad person because of that?” 

“No! No! That’s not it at all. I’ve just heard the reputation and I thought I’d ask you.”

You sigh and lean back against the back of the booth. 

“Can you get us another round? I’m just going to go to the refresher,” you say, sliding out of the booth and not even waiting for a response. 

You lean over the sink in the refresher, staring at yourself in the mirror and trying to psych yourself up for this disaster of a date. Davin’s not… horrible looking, by any means. But from the brief conversation you just had with him, you’re not interested, not in the slightest. The only solution you can think of is to drink your way through it. 

You head back into the tavern and take your place in the booth. The second round of drinks has arrived and you waste no time downing yours. You let him do all the talking, having no interest in getting to know him. 

“So do you plan on working forever?”

“…Define forever.”

“Like when you get married and have kids.”

“Who said I wanted to get married and have kids?”

“Well, do you?”

“I mean I’d like to get married but I don’t think I want kids.”

“So what do you want to do with your life?”

“I’d like to travel,” you say, reading your elbow on the table and your head in your hand. 

“That’s not realistic.”

“What do you mean “it’s not realistic”?” you ask, head tilting to the side again.

“I mean based on what you make at the inn I doubt you make enough to travel.”

“Well what do you do? Since you’re suddenly the expert on what is realistic and what’s not.”

“I’m a professor at Naboo University.”

“Oh really?” you snort. 

“What’s so funny about that?”

“Didn’t think education was a… prosperous field,” you reply, choosing your words carefully. 

“It is, actually,” he says, folding his arms, “And if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the refresher as well.”

“Yeah I’m actually just gonna get a bit of fresh air outside for a moment. Kinda hot in here…” you say, once again getting up and not waiting for a response.

The sun has completely set now, the sky an inky black and the streetlamps lit with an amber glow. Pacing up and down along the street you think of a million reasons to get yourself out of this. This is by far the worst date you’ve been on. You can’t even think of any redeeming qualities for this guy. And what’s pathetic is you wish Mando was here right now. At least he tried to flirt with you regardless of how bad it was… if you could even call that flirting. 

You turn to pace the opposite direction and right before your eyes is none other than… Mando? This is weird. You can’t be hallucinating, revnog doesn’t do that to you. 

Yes, it’s really him. He calls out your name confusedly and you make your way over to him, both of you stopping in front of an alley. 

“Hey,” you smile at him, closing the gap between you two and placing your hand on his beskar breastplate. You swear you can hear him gulp when you do that. 

“Here for another bounty? Or did you come all the way here just to see me?” you flirt, glancing up into the T-shaped visor. 

Din

You can’t know the truth. He made the several rotations long journey just to try and find you. He stopped at the Star-Lux earlier in the evening but you were already gone. So he resigned to aimlessly wandering the streets in hopes of looking for you. And to his delight here you are, pacing in the street. 

You palm the growing bulge in his flight suit and he has to fight the urge to let out a strained kriff. 

“I want you, Mando,” you say, your eyes glancing up at him, pleading with him. 

He’s having a whole moral dilemma in his head. The rational, logical part of his mind is screaming no at him, yelling at him to stop, reminding him he has a wife at home. But the pleasure driven part of his mind is egging him on, telling him to do it, convincing him he deserves this. Ultimately he decides that you came onto him, therefore it’s not his fault. 

He practically drags you into the alley, pinning you up against the wall. His gloved hand palms your thigh, trailing up against your entrance. You part your legs for him, letting him gain better access to your cunt. Din’s going crazy right now, imagining how wet you must be. He curses his gloves for being a barrier between his hands and your warm, soft, wet sex. It’s so hard to restrain himself but he must. 

You have to be soaked, though, judging by the way a finger just effortlessly slid inside you. He watches your face, watches the way you close your eyes and your lashes fan out on your face, watches the way your mouth falls into a soft O as his fingers play with you. Half of your face is cloaked in the darkness of the alley but the other half is lit up from the streetlamp at the edge of the alley, basking the one half in a warm glow and lighting up one eye. He tries to memorize this moment exactly as it is; your pretty face, your soft moans, and his guilt not being present for once. All under the nighttime skies of Naboo.

He slides another finger inside you, curling them upwards against your walls; against your g-spot. Your moans grow louder so he brings his helmet beside your ear, both of your chests pressed up against each other, and says “Shh, mesh’la. Someone will hear.”

You don’t know what that word means but he knows you’re too far gone in pleasure to ask. He rubs his thumb around your clit and he knows you’re already at the edge, judging by how hard you have to try to stifle your moans.

You cum around his fingers, and he can sort of feel it through his cursed gloves, feeling the way your walls flutter around him. He needs you around his cock now. Back when he masturbated to the mental image of you at his house on Nevarro he never actually thought he'd get the chance to have you. And now here you are, looking up at him with eyes pleading for more, more of him, and everything he fantasized about is in reach. His cock strains against his flight suit begging to be released. 

“You want more?”

“Please, Mando. I need it.”

Kriff, you don’t know what you do to him. He’d love to tease you; to make you beg, but he’s far too desperate and horny to try that now. Another time, he supposes, if he gets lucky. 

He pulls his hand from you and takes his cock out of his flight suit and you look down at it. He suddenly feels self conscious about not only the size but also the fact that it’s uncut. Circumcision isn’t a practice in Mandalorian culture and sometimes with other women in the past they turned their nose up at the sight. But you look at it in astonishment (or so he hopes), eyes widened and mouth into a soft O again.

He strokes his cock with the same hand that fingered you, spreading your wetness all over it. You turn around and bend over for him, pulling up the skirt of your dress and exposing your ass. He’s gonna lose it now. 

He thrusts into you slowly, resisting the urge to do it in one clean motion. He finally gets to feel for himself how soft, warm and wet you are, fighting the impulse to cum already. If there is a heaven, he has found it, here in an alley on Naboo with you wrapped around his cock. His hands hook onto your hips as he begins to thrust in and out of you, feeling the way your plush ass collides with his groin. Your walls grip his cock as he buries it deeper and deeper inside you, expanding your walls as far as they can go. You can’t hold back your moans now, it feels too good. The alley is filled with your moans, your ass colliding with his groin and his own grunts. He feels your cunt grow tighter around him, you’re going to cum soon. And he needs to feel it. 

“Gonna cum, mesh’la (beautiful)?”

“I’m so close, Mando. Please,” you moan, voice choked up. 

He can’t see your face but he’s almost certain you’re on the verge of tears. 

“Give it to me,” he commands. 

And you do, hard. Your walls contract and release erratically before falling into a rhythmic pattern. He fucks you through your release, prolonging it even further. Your orgasm pulls his own from him before he knows it. And now his cock is painting your insides in ropes of his cum. This right here is heaven. If he had suspicions before this just confirmed it. 

But the bliss is cut short but a voice shouting, “Hey! What are you doing?! You were on a date with me!”

You

You stand upright and pull your dress back down, opening your mouth to yell back. Davin is angry to say the least, angrily storming towards you with a deranged look in his eye. But Mando beats you to it, putting his cock away and wasting no time, charging at him with his blaster drawn. 

Mando puts him in a headlock, holding the blaster against his head. 

“Leave her alone or you’ll have to deal with me, got it?” Mando says sternly.

“But-” Davin starts. But Mando cuts him off, tightening the grip around his head. 

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Fine. She’s all yours, I don’t care. Just let me go!”

He slowly releases the headlock and Davin stands upright. Mando keeps his blaster drawn and aimed at Davin who takes one last look at you and runs away. 

That was… hot, the way he effortlessly restrained Davin, the way he protected you. Between the endorphins released during sex and now this, you’re infatuated with him. 

“Sorry you had to see that,” he says softly. 

“Don’t be sorry. I should be thanking you.”

“Can I walk you home?”

You nod and walk side by side with him, leading the way back to your place. 

“Were you on a date when I found you?” he asks after a moment of silence. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, “My friend set me up with him and it just… wasn’t going well.”

“I could tell,” he chuckles. “Oh and sorry about you know… coming inside you.”

“Don’t worry! I have an implant. And thanks for helping me out back there.”

“Of course. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will happen to me as long as I’m with you.”

He doesn’t say anything and you wonder if that was too far, so you change the topic. 

“Did you come here for a bounty?”

“…Yeah.”

“Where did you have to go?”

“I had to…” he trails off. You wait for his response but he just quietly says, “I came here to see you.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” His voice is small, like he’s embarrassed. 

“That’s sweet, Mando,” you say, stopping in front of your building on the outskirts of town. 

You look at him, silver beskar illuminated under the moonlight. Your stomach twists into knots when you look at him. This night could not have ended better. 

“Thank you again.”

“Of course. Until next time,” he says, turning and walking towards the fields, cape billowing in the wind.

You hope there will be a next time. You have to learn more about him, that’s for sure. 

Chapter Three

Graphic by @nostalxgic

Banners + divider by @saradika

MAMH tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @catchallfangirl @patti7dc @nervoushottee @mandoisapunk @pr0ximamidnight @angel-in-beskar @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @love-the-abyss @dameron-grant-spector @xdaddysprincessxx @drewharrisonwriter @milly-louise @engie115 @survivingandenduring @unit-1021 @rentaldarling @missladym1981 @csarab615 @swiftiegirliepop @spookyxsam @jbb-sgr @harriedandharassed

[lonelym00n]

Is it okay to run when you're feeling weak?

Part 3 of The Devil Likes the Pirate Series

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: You get closer with Tara and all her friends. She opens up to you about her past.

It had been a few days since you last saw Tara, and though she did follow up on her promise to text you, it was hard not to feel a bit sad about the time spent away from her. And sure, maybe it was ridiculous to be feeling that way, but within the short span of time that you’d gotten to know her, Tara had you wrapped tightly around her pinky finger. 

You’re currently tucked into your favorite corner of Blackmore’s library, textbooks splayed haphazardly in front of you. Your backpack occupies the chair to your right and the two positioned across from you remain empty, a rare occurrence for this time of the year. You would’ve expected the library to be filled with students cramming for exams, but then again, you had to admit that midterm week wasn’t as hellish as you expected it to be. While you normally despised studying, you were honestly just more thankful for the reprieve from being buried up to your eyeballs in assignments. 

Your attention is barely on your studies, way too preoccupied with thoughts of Tara and when you’d get to see her next. The last you’d heard from her was that Sam had her locked up in their ‘dungeon of an apartment’ and that she likely wouldn’t be able to escape for a while. You felt bad for being the cause of not only a huge fight between the two sisters, but the loss of Tara’s freedom too. You’d jokingly told Tara over text that you’d shimmy up the fire escape so the two of you could hangout and she replied that Sam would probably shoot you if she caught you. Having witnessed how scary the older girl was when mad, you certainly weren’t going to find out if the threat was empty or not. 

Just as you’re about to turn back to your work, your phone buzzes with a notification. You curiously shift your eyes to it and nearly jump out of your seat in joy as Tara’s contact name is displayed on the screen.

Tara: hey stranger

Y/N: hey matey

Tara: enoughhhh pirate jokes 

Y/N: okay okay

Y/N: so what’s up?

Tara: i’m bored, pls tell me ur doing something fun so i can live vicariously through u

Y/N: sorry nothing exciting, just studying for midterms in the library

Tara: shit i almost forgot about those

Tara: i hate house arrest

Y/N: house arrest must suck

Y/N: any chance you’ll be off of it soon?

Tara: ughh hopefully sometime this week

Tara: why, do you miss me or something? ;)

Y/N: god you’re insufferable

Y/N: but… maybe i do miss u just a little bit

Tara: awww i knew it <3

Tara: i’ll talk to sam when she gets back from the store and see what i can do

You click your phone off with a sigh. Sam would probably refuse to let Tara out of the house and you’d be stuck thinking about her from a distance. Whatever reason Sam has for being so protective of Tara must be a really good one. You couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened. Tara did mention that she’d tell you eventually, and you made a mental note to be extremely patient with her in the meantime. 

Reaching into your backpack, you pull out a pair of noise canceling headphones and place them onto your head. You switch on some soft music to play in the background while studying and start reviewing the exam material.

You sit hunched over your thick textbook for what must’ve been at least an hour or two. You’re so engrossed in your reading that you don’t notice that the two chairs in front of you are being pulled out. It isn’t until you feel a tap on your shoulder that you register that there are now two people sitting in front of you. 

“Oh shit!” You jump slightly in surprise and tear the headphones off your head. “So sorry, I didn’t even see you sit down.”

You finally glance up to see who is in front of you and promptly choke on your spit.

Tara grins cheekily back at you, grin stretching further at the coughing fit you’re now caught up in. “Surprise!”

“Tara, what the hell are you doing here?!” You practically splutter out the question, cheeks tinting pink (as they so often do around Tara) in embarrassment when you realize that another person is witnessing you literally choke at the sight of Tara. 

Tara mischievously raises a single eyebrow at you and her eyes twinkle with joy, “You should know by now that giving your location to your kidnapper is a bad idea.”

You laugh gleefully at the familiar joke and a feeling of warmth blossoms throughout your chest. 

“Jokes aside, I convinced Sam to let me come here to study for midterms. She allowed it but made me bring a friend with me.” She turns to where her friend is sitting silently beside her and then looks back at you, “Do you remember Mindy?”

The girl looks sort of familiar, but you couldn’t say you remembered exactly who she was. You smile apologetically at her and exchange a quick hello before speaking, “It’s nice to officially meet you Mindy. I’m assuming you were part of the group that helped rescue me?”

Thankfully, Mindy doesn’t seem offended that you don’t remember her. She nods and slowly smirks, “Y’know I’m not surprised you don’t remember me, you were too busy making googly eyes at Tara here to notice anybody else.” 

You flush a deep red before groaning and ducking your head down to bury yourself in your abandoned textbook. 

Above you, Tara and Mindy snicker at your reaction. 

“Told you she blushes easily.” The two laugh some more at Tara's retort.

You lift your head up with a frown etched onto your face. Promptly, you flip both of them off. They each respond with a chuckle.

“Anyways, even though you so rudely insulted me,” you roll your eyes playfully at Mindy before softening your expression, “I want to say I really appreciate whatever your part in helping me that night was. I already told Tara this, but it means so much to me that you guys were looking out for me. I’m sorry for whatever drama I caused in the aftermath”

Tara eyes you softly while Mindy waves off your apology. “No need to apologize. It was the right thing to do and I’m glad we were able to help. Even if Sam did almost kill me”

Tara swats Mindy on the shoulder for her comment. Deciding to change the subject, she scans her eyes across your study space before fixing you with a scrutinizing look. “How long have you been here for?”

“Uhh,” you tap your pencil against the desk while you think, “Two, maybe three hours. Why?”

Tara gasps and tuts at you disapprovingly, “Have you taken a break from studying to eat something at least?”

You shake your head, now that she’s mentioned it, you could use a snack. 

She stands up and gently pulls you out of your seat. “C’mon,” she tugs your arm, “I’m gonna get you a snack.”

Obediently, you go to follow, but stop dead in your tracks when Mindy speaks up in alarm, “Wait, Tara?!” 

Tara sighs heavily, drops your arm, and gives you a pointed look that tells you to wait where you are while she goes to talk to Mindy,

From your spot a few feet away, you can just barely make out their hushed conversation.

“You heard Sam, she said I need to stay with you at all times! We can’t piss her off again.” 

Tara grunts in annoyance, “No, she said not to let me out of your sight. We’re just going to the coffee place right over there, you can watch us from where you are.”

“I don’t know.” Mindy sounds unsure.

“Mindy please? I’ll buy you a brownie and a latte.” You can tell by her adorable tone that she’s pouting and it takes a lot of self-discipline not to turn around to see it.

Mindy draws out a long groan, “Fine! But I’m gonna be watching so don’t do anything I wouldn’t want to see.”

Tara’s smile is triumphant as she skips over to you and threads her fingers through yours. You give her hand a small squeeze. 

As the two of you wait in line, she looks up at you sweetly, “So did you really miss me or were you just joking earlier?”

You bite your lip, hoping to god she won’t tease you if you tell the truth. “I did miss you. You grew on me really quickly Tara.”

She sighs happily, “Good, because I was thinking the same thing. I really missed you too.”

You grin like an idiot, so glad that you weren’t alone in your sentiment. 

The line shifts up slightly and it is swiftly your turn to order. You give the barista your order and motion for Tara to do the same. When she relays her coffee order, you do your best to commit it to memory. She adds Mindy’s items and before she can retrieve her wallet, you whip out your card and tap it against the screen. Tara glares at you but you only smile back innocently.

The two of you slide down to wait for your food and drinks to be ready. 

“Well,” Tara drags out the word and releases a breath, “I know you’re probably wondering why Sam locked me in the apartment or why I couldn’t come here without Mindy. And I do owe you an explanation but-”

You hastily cut her off, “You don’t owe me an explanation for anything Tara. It’s all up to whether you want to tell me or not. Whatever it is you went through, it’s obviously a very big deal. I’d understand if it’s not something you want to ever share with me.”

She pulls you into a quick hug, “I do want to tell you, but I think I need more time. Just so you know though, it’s something that me, Mindy, Chad, and Sam all went through. That’s why we’re all so protective of each other.”

You give her an understanding look, “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

She nods, “Sam’s still really mad at me and she probably won’t let me go alone anywhere for a while. I do want to keep hanging out with you though. Do you mind that it has to be with one of my friends?”

Your brow furrows slightly and you’re fast to shake your head, “No I don’t mind at all. I totally get it and I’m honestly just happy that I get to see you at all. Plus, your friends seem really nice, it’d be nice to get to know them.”

Tara sighs in relief before wrapping her arms around your neck and leaning up to kiss you on the cheek. 

You smile brightly at the gesture. 

A few seconds later your name is called and you step forward to collect the order. Tara grabs the items you’re unable to scoop up. The two of you return back to where Mindy is sitting.

She chirps out a thanks and the three of you enjoy your food silently. The rest of the afternoon is spent with you continuing to study, with Tara and Mindy begrudgingly joining you. You take frequent breaks to poke fun at each other and your heart flutters happily in your chest. If this is what it felt like to have friends, you never wanted to let them go.

From that day forward, you began to spend a lot of time with Tara and her ragtag group of friends. You loved hanging out with them, they were everything you felt you’d been missing in college. Mindy was sarcastic and hilarious and Anika was kind and bubbly. You liked her especially because she would always put a stop to Mindy’s teasing. Chad was cool, but you found him to be a bit more intimidating than everyone else. You didn’t mind Ethan, he was just a bit too shy and dorky for your liking. 

Overall, you found a sense of home in the group. You were so grateful that they accepted you into their circle with open arms. 

Your feelings for Tara were stronger than you’d ever felt for anyone thus far in your life. Her personality shone so brightly, it was no wonder why all her friends gravitated towards her so strongly. She was so sweet, yet so witty, brave, and strong. You are beyond thankful that you were lucky enough to stumble into her life, and you tell her so all the time.

The weeks fly by as you become even further integrated into the group of friends. You’re no longer on the outside, you’re one of them. Not a day goes by where you don’t feel so fortunate to have met them.

It’s after one of your many hangouts with Tara, Mindy, and Anika (you refer to them as double dates in your head) that Tara tells you she has a surprise for you. She takes you to a beautiful park and leads you to a more secluded spot, where a picnic is neatly laid out. You squeal like a child and excitedly run over to take a seat on the blanket. A conversation you can’t make out plays behind you.

“Anika and I are going to be just over there. We’ll be able to see you the whole time. Are you sure you want to tell her?”

Though Tara feels nervous, she nods her head nonetheless, “I trust her Mindy. It’s going to hurt like hell to talk about it again, but I want her to know. Besides, she’s in danger even being around us, so I feel like I owe it to her to tell her.”

Mindy agrees, she’d done the same thing with Anika when things got serious between them. She understands the position that Tara is in. “Okay. Call out if you need us.”

The three girls split off, heading their separate ways. 

Tara plops down next to where you’re splayed out on the blanket, her thigh bumping against your own. You grin lazily at her.

She takes a moment to herself to admire you. Her fingers card through your hair before shifting to smooth the pads of her thumbs across your cheeks. You relax into the touch, sighing softly.

Tara’s lips press to your forehead and you close your eyes at the gentle contact.

She murmurs out your name and you leisurely open your eyes. “I’m ready to tell you about what happened.”

You open your mouth to protest but she shuts down your attempt, “No it’s okay, I want to tell you. Everyone else is okay with you knowing. Even Sam.”

You sit up straight, “Even Sam? She knows about me?”

Tara eyes you a little guiltily, “ I told her a while ago that we’ve been hanging out. She isn’t thrilled about it, but she was glad to at least know. She’s been trying to meet you, but I keep turning her down. I didn’t want her to scare you away before I could give you the full story.”

It’s a little scary that Tara’s overprotective sister knows about you, but you reassure Tara that it’s fine. “Well at least we haven’t been sneaking around her back, she’d probably be more upset if that were the case. I’d love to meet her someday.”

Tara seems thankful that you don’t freak out about it. The two of you sit in silence for a moment. Tara turns to face you, a faraway look in her eyes. Sensing that things are about to get heavy, you give Tara your full attention. 

“Have you ever heard of the Stab movies?”

You scratch your chin in thought. “Maybe? I think I’ve heard of them but I’ve never seen one.”

“Well,” she explains, “The original movie is based upon a series of killings that took place in Woodsboro, California. The two killers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy and killed a bunch of their friends. After the first Stab movie came out, the events of the killings became well-known by everyone.”

You’re completely unsure why you’re hearing facts about this movie, but Tara must have a reason, so you remain silent.

“Ever since the original killings and the first Stab movie, different people have taken up the killer’s mantle. These series of killings have been repeated five different times and three of them have taken place in Woodsboro.”

You feel dumb, how hadn’t you heard about a literal horror movie being remade five different times? “Oh my gosh, I had no idea.”

Tara’s eyes brim with tears and she looks smaller than ever at this moment. “Y/N, I moved here from Woodsboro a few months ago.” 

You gasp and tears jump into your own eyes. You gently pull Tara into your lap to comfort her. “Oh Tara, I’m so sorry. It must’ve been so scary to live there.” 

You press a few soft kisses into her hairline as her tears begin to silently drip down her face. 

“I didn’t just live there." She pauses for a long moment. "I lived through one of the killings.”

Oh my god. Your body shakes as your own tears spill out. You hug her closer to you and she wraps her arms around your neck.

After a minute of quietly sobbing, she continues with what you are sure must’ve been a real-life nightmare, “It’s a tradition for the killer to wear a black cloak and a white mask with a screaming ghost face. I was home alone the first time I got attacked. I got stabbed seven different times and the killer broke my leg.”

She cries into your shirt and you clutch her so tightly in your arms. It’s unbelievable to hear that the girl who seems so put together at all times almost died a few months ago. 

“I was so scared when I woke up in the hospital. It was almost impossible to believe that I had survived. And then about a day later, I was attacked again at the hospital.”

You reach aimlessly into the picnic basket and fish out a bottle of water, which you then offer to Tara. She takes a meek sip, but gives you a grateful look.

“After that, Sam decided we needed to leave town. It wasn’t safe anywhere. But, I didn’t have an inhaler with me, so we had to stop at my girlfriend’s house, where I kept a spare. It was a trap, and my sister’s boyfriend Richie and my girlfriend, Amber, revealed themselves to be the killers.”

She sobs brokenly at the mention of her girlfriend. You do everything you can think of to comfort her, even while knowing that it would never be enough to make her feel better. The betrayal of her own girlfriend almost killing her would likely stay in her mind forever.

“Fighting spread all throughout the house. Eventually, Amber and Richie were overpowered. Sam killed Richie but I- I-” 

You coo at her and rub your hands soothingly around her whole body. She’s crying so hard she can barely breathe and you fish out the inhaler you’ve seen her take out of the front pocket of her pants many different times. You spew words of praise and encouragement at her as her shaky hand wraps around it and she takes a puff of much needed air.

Once her breathing has calmed, she continues her sentence from earlier, “I killed Amber. I shot my own girlfriend right in the forehead. I’ll never forget seeing her body crash into the ground. Some days I can’t live with the thought of what I did to her.”

“I’m so so sorry Tara. She never should’ve put you through that.”

Tara sniffles. “I lost so much over the course of three days. We all did. Our best friend Wes and his mother were killed. Chad was attacked and he lost his girlfriend, Liv. Mindy got stabbed in the shoulder. We didn’t deserve to go through all that pain.”

You hum in agreement. The three people you proudly called your friends certainly didn’t deserve that. You had so much more love and appreciation for them now knowing what they’d fought through. 

Tara has calmed down a bit and just as you think the worst of it is over, she speaks up again, “A few more things. Sam is the daughter of Billy Loomis, the original ghostface killer. I learned during Woodsboro that she and I have different dads. Mindy and Chad’s uncle, Randy, was a part of the original killings and didn’t make it through the second. Basically, all of this means that you’re in a ton of danger just from hanging around with us. Ghostface always comes back to haunt the survivors.”

While you should, you don’t care that your life is in danger. You’re more worried about someone coming back to attack your friends. You would never be the same if you lost one of them so cruelly.

Tara has stopped crying, but she still looks so sad. “I understand if you don’t want to hang around us, you know?”

You huff out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. Tenderly, you tilt Tara’s chin up until her eyes meet yours. “Tara, I could never leave you or our friends. In fact, you’re going to have to try harder than ever to get rid of me. Now I’m the one who’s not going to let you out of their sight.”

Her brown eyes swirl with so many different emotions as she looks up at you. You’d pay a million dollars for the chance to take a peek inside her head right now. 

You’re suddenly met with the familiar warmth of her lips pressing gently into yours. You melt into the sweet kiss.

Tara pulls back reluctantly and bops you on the nose while she slowly climbs off of your lap. You miss her warmth immediately, but don’t protest.

“Look, Y/N, I really really like you. But as much as I want to be, I’m not ready for a relationship right now. I’m sorry, I never meant to lead you on.”

Tears spring out of your eyes despite your desperate attempts to keep them in. Though you are completely understanding, your heart still breaks at the news. “It’s okay Tara, I get it.”

She wants so badly to reach out and comfort you, but she feels she’s done enough damage for one night. 

You pull your knees up to your chest and cry softly. Tara, who you had flirted with and even kissed several different times, was now telling you she didn't want a relationship. Your hopes had been so high that things were going to work out romantically between the two of you that you hadn't prepared yourself for the possibility of being turned away. Regardless of the way your chest aches with sorrow, you feel stupid for crying in front of Tara, who has gone through so much. 

You swipe your tears away aggressively, berating yourself for your moment of weakness. “Can we still be friends?”

You don’t even really know why you’d asked the question. Being just friends with Tara, the girl you feel so strongly for, is going to tear you apart from the inside out. A whole new set of tears trickles uselessly down your face, clouding your vision completely. 

Tara’s heart clenches at the sadness that oozes out of you, “Of course.”

You can’t stay here anymore and let Tara witness you being a worthless mess. You call out to Anika and Mindy, who come rushing over. 

Before they make it into earshot, you whisper to Tara, “I’m sorry. I know it’s the asshole move, but I just need some time to get a handle on my feelings for you. I still really want to be your friend, but I can’t do it right away. I care about you so much, so please keep yourself safe.”

A protest flies out of her mouth as you stand up and dust yourself off. “I’m so sorry Tara, thank you for trusting me with everything, I’ll never tell another soul. See you in a bit.”

Anika and Mindy arrive shortly after you tell Tara goodbye. They try to call out to your retreating form, but you’re too wrapped up in your deprecating thoughts to listen. The three girls can only watch helplessly as you trudge further and further away.

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #oo3 | my turn

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows my turn (role reversal) || jisung x fem!reader summary: you have the coolest partner in the world, the literal rockstar Jisung of the band Eternal, and the best part? you knew he was one before the rest of the world found out. you two met over a shared love of music, and you let your dreams fall to the wayside to support his. but when jisung hears you with his band for the first time, the roles are reversed, and he becomes your biggest fan. warnings: rather fluffy for kinktober, plot heavy, pet names, established relationship, non-kpop idol AU.

word count: 3.2k masterlist - click here

You’re a supportive girlfriend, so it's your job to be the one front and center when your boyfriend performs at festivals, waving a big sign around like an average fan, despite the badge hanging from your neck indicating you were very much not an average fan, and had full and complete access to the artist.   Jisung is undoubtedly a rockstar, the charismatic lead guitarist and vocalist of the alternative rock sensation, Eternal. Following the blazing success of their recent single on the radio, their demand has skyrocketed, securing them bookings at renowned festivals with extensive media coverage.    But your unwavering enthusiasm for Jisung's music dates back to the days when it was just him and his band in a rented-out rehearsal room inside an old warehouse in your hometown. There, you'd watch him perform, feeling your heart swell with pride and admiration as he poured his soul into his music, singing about his tumultuous past. 

In the last two of your five-year relationship, Jisung has been urging you to step into the limelight with your own unique voice. He's convinced that your vocals have a distinctive quality, a gritty edge that perfectly complements grunge and rock music. However, you've hesitated, recalling your past as a pop artist that didn't quite take off. You're afraid of experiencing the heartbreak of the music industry all over again. 

It's been easier to live vicariously through Jisung's success, still being close to the music scene that makes you feel alive. Your dreams haven't faded entirely, but for now, they simmer on the backburner. 

  After a year of pestering you, Jisung manages to convince you to get on the microphone after you two have shared a few beers and a couple of shots in between runs of his set at rehearsal.  You’re barely walking, and he’s pushing you while you make an effort to lean back against him, half fighting and stumbling your way up.    Giving him a sideways glance, he winks at you and turns to his rack of three guitars. He selects his vintage strat, slides the leather strap over his head, taps his foot on his pedalboard with a dozen pedals, exchanges nods with his drummer and bassist, and begins strumming chords.   

As the chords fill the air, they feel almost deliciously right, which is no surprise. Jisung knows your musical tastes well—Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Staind, 3 Doors Down, Nickelback—and he's giving you something distinctly different from his usual style, something that resonates with your soul.  You close your eyes, furrowing your brow in concentration as you sway to the chords. Then, you open your mouth, and the words flow effortlessly:    My anxiety,    It just ain’t been getting down with your sobriety    As the words leave your lips, you're pleasantly surprised at how good they sound, both vocally and lyrically. 

Jisung signals the band to continue with a circular motion of his finger. He adjusts his playing to complement your voice, encouraging you to keep going. 

Closing your eyes once more, you raise the microphone to your lips: 

  My anxiety,    It just ain't been getting down with your sobriety    And I can tell how things are changin’ cause you’re just like me.    The next set of words come to you within seconds.    And I’m gonna take you to that place where you don’t wanna be, don’t gotta be.    You hear that familiar switch and whirr of the high pitched amp as Jisung switches pedals again, the sound harder, with more overdrive.  His strumming pattern has changed, and it makes you feel like a chorus should come out naturally.    Take me out onto the wide and open roads,    I’m just waiting for you to tell me when to go.    We can take it slow,    I don’t have to know.    But I can’t promise that you’ll find your way back home.    You're completely immersed in the world of your lyrics, lost in the music until you hear Jisung's whistle followed by hearty laughter as the band comes to a stop. 

Jisung steps on a pedal, deactivating the overdrive, and asks, "Holy shit, did you write that, y/n?" 

You shrug, "No, it just came out—the way you were playing, that's just what came out." 

He widens his eyes, brows raising in surprise. "Wait, you mean to tell me you came up with that off the top of your head?" 

You look at him, puzzled. "Jisung, we do this at home all the time. We freestyle together when we're drunk. I used to be a musician. Is this new information?" 

He clicks his tongue, narrowing his eyes. "Don't be a smartass. You know I've never heard you with a live band. When we freestyle when we're drunk, you don't come up with stuff like that. That was... poetry." 

  Jisung steps back and adjusts his pedals, strumming lightly. "Do the same thing, but Troy, hold out that E string through the first eight bars." 

And so, your very first alternative rock song, 'Home,' was born during an organic jam session. It was so impressive that Jisung funded its professional recording in a studio and helped you release it as a single, under his publishing. 

  You landed 68k streams in the first week.    People were hungry for more.    The band lent their full support as you embarked on your first major project, a small EP comprising eight remarkable songs. The pinnacle of your excitement came when you received news that you were invited to perform at none other than the prestigious Coachella festival. 

Your excitement matched the enthusiasm radiating from Jisung. He couldn't contain his joy, and as the news broke, he screamed, hugging you tightly and even jumping up and down with sheer delight. When he finally released you from the hug, his eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as he looked into your eyes. "I get to be your groupie now," he exclaimed.    & Jisung meant that shit.    He purposefully schedules a leg of his tour to leave that night open so he can be free to attend and play for your performance, instead of the hired gun guitarist that takes his place when he has to prioritize his own band.  He’s headlining a top venue in the city the next night, but tonight is all about you.      But for tonight, Jisung is your guitarist, so he can’t wave a sign in the crowd for you like you do for him, so he gets a little creative.  As the band began playing the intro to your song, the stage lights transform into a dim, muted blue, and you gaze out at the vast, massive crowd before you. It is undoubtedly the largest audience you have ever performed for in your career. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jisung stepping up to his microphone, still strumming his guitar. "Tonight is special to me, to be playing for Y/N, really, it's an honor," he announced, causing you to cover your mouth and nose with your hands, concealing your wide smile as the crowd erupted in cheers, urging him to continue. 

  "I am her biggest fan, and it sucks that I can't be in the audience, watching you do your thing from their point of view," Jisung continued with effortless stage presence. Laughter and whoops filled the air as he spoke, still strumming his guitar. "You guys are some lucky motherfuckers." His stage presence is effortless as the crowd reacts with laughter and whoops.  He’s still playing, the band perfectly vamping the song in the background as he points to the front row, “So I gathered some fans to help me out tonight.”    Before your very eyes, signs go up one by one across the front.    M A R R Y  M E ?    You take a step back, your eyes widen as you squint to see. The crowd's deafening roar and the giant screen above capture the moment, alternating between the sign and your bewildered expression. It's a surprise you could never predict.   

"Jisung—" you begin to exclaim, but your voice breaks into sobs as he embraces you tightly. The band briefly pauses, and the crowd's cheers grow louder. 

"It's okay, baby," Jisung reassures you, laughing as adrenaline courses through him. He rocks you from side to side, and then, he pulls out a box from his back pocket, dropping to one knee. With tears in his eyes, he opens the box to reveal a stunning ruby ring surrounded by diamonds on a gold band. He wipes his cheeks, trying to maintain composure as emotions overwhelm him. 

Your shocked reaction, a mixture of surprise and joy, draws raucous laughter from the audience. You hadn't expected him to propose right then, and you had no idea he had a ring. You don't even know any of this has been planned. As you say yes, barely above a whisper, you nod and let him slip the ring onto your finger.  It rests perfectly between the silver carved wolf ring on your pinky and the owl eyes ring on your middle finger, with turquoise stones set into the irises.  It's a ring that proves he knows you well and listens to the things you love and want.  You hadn’t mentioned wanting a ruby engagement ring since you first started dating and it came up randomly when you two were at a mall together and happened to pass them by. 

  -  “Do you like this one?” Jisung asked.    “Nah, too traditional.  I love rubies.  I’d love a ruby one.” 

-    Now, you shiver with emotion, looking down at the ring and sniffing as he stands up to kiss you. It's a brief kiss, but you know there's more to come later. He steps back, never taking his eyes off you, and the introduction to your song begins once again. 

Through your tears, you laugh. "Now I have to sing the song, asshole," you tease.   

Jisung chuckles with the crowd and leans over to quip into the microphone, "Yeah, but you got this, rockstar."   

As you prepare to start singing, the crowd's voices join in unison, singing the opening phrases with you: 

"My anxiety..." 

You feel a surge of happiness and gratitude as you close your eyes and sing the lyrics, your voice soaring as the song reaches its climax and descends gracefully, like a plane landing smoothly. The audience erupts in applause, and soon after, you find yourself in the dressing room. You're sweaty, makeup smudged from tears, but you're buzzing with excitement. Your heart races, and it feels like a fluttering butterfly has replaced it, its wings sending a rush of blood through your veins. 

Your team rushes in, surrounding you in a massive group hug. Some of them hold bouquets of flowers, and your manager pops a bottle of champagne, filling flutes for everyone in the room. 

"Attention, everyone, I need to make a toast," your manager announces, raising her glass above the chatter. The room hushes. "To new beginnings!" she declares, and everyone cheers, clinking their glasses together. You raise your glass from where you sit on a makeup table, taking a sip as the room bursts into conversation again. 

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Jisung walks in, greeted by more whoops and cheers. He's visibly exhausted from his set and the emotional rollercoaster of the night, but Jisung plays along, accepting the enthusiastic welcome as he makes his way over to you. 

"Han Jisung!" you exclaim, shaking your head as he wraps you in a warm embrace. Your legs wrap around his waist as he hugs you tightly, planting a kiss on your lips and looking into your eyes. 

"It sounds even better now that it's gonna be your last name," he says with a grin. 

"Let's take this to the afterparty!" your drummer yells, and everyone starts gathering their belongings, excitedly agreeing.   

"Leo, we're playing Thunder Eagle tomorrow, don't get too messed up, man," Jisung says over his shoulder, calling out your shared drummer, who rolls his eyes.    “I’ll be cool Jay.”    “I’m serious.”    "I'll make sure they behave," Jisung's manager chimes in, patting Leo on the back and pointing towards the door, silently advising him not to argue tonight.  

Jisung is a Virgo, a perfectionist, and he wants his set to be flawless, even if it never quite reaches his impossible standards. She reassured him that everything would go according to plan so he could enjoy his proposal night.   

"Thank you, Rina," Jisung says. 

Rina nods. "Meet us back at the hotel. We need to go over tomorrow's itinerary." 

She knows Jisung has no interest in afterparties, especially not tonight. His social battery is drained as well. 

After Rina leaves, the steel door slowly closes behind her, and you and Jisung let out synchronized sighs, followed by shared laughter. Those sighs communicate everything you both feel—the relief of finally being alone.   

"Wow, I can't believe I got backstage with Y/N," Jisung teases, his eyes playfully wide. 

  "Got past security and everything, huh? You must've really wanted to meet me," you playfully comment.   

"Of course," Jisung responds, placing his hands on both sides of your face and looking into your eyes. "I told you, I'm your biggest fan." 

And then, Jisung kisses you for real this time, like he means every bit of it. Your head tilts to follow the rhythm of his tongue as it rolls over yours, and you give him a forceful shove backward as you hop down from the countertop. He stumbles back a few steps while you push his leather jacket off his shoulders. Eventually, he lands on the black futon, looking up at you with a crooked grin as you straddle him. Your knees sink into the leather, and you can feel just how aroused he is when you lower yourself against him. Both of you are still clothed, and you rest your arms on his shoulders, your breasts grazing against his chin as you start grinding in his lap. 

"You're my biggest fan, Jisung?" you inquire, your voice low and teasing. 

"I am," he confirms, his eyes lifting from your chest to meet yours as he answers your question. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down firmer onto his lap. 

You lean in close, murmuring in his ear, "Wanna be my groupie?"   

"Mhm, I do, I do," Jisung breathes, his hands gripping your ass. 

But then, you stop, lifting yourself up slightly.   “Let me fuck you then.” you say with a firm grasp of his erection. You stroke him a couple of times through his jeans, your lips hovering over his. You watch his expressions, the way his eyes cross, and his lids flutter, his vision blurred by the shockwaves your touch is sending throughout his body.    "Y-Yeah?" Jisung stammers, a reply that makes you both laugh, briefly breaking the intensity of the passion between you. How can you still have this effect on him? Jisung melts under your heat, and he always will.    “Take your dick out, I need to spell it out for you?”    You grant him a bit more space, allowing him to lift his hips and deftly slide out of his jeans. His brain finally clears the fog of desire, and he's acutely aware of how badly he craves to be with you at this moment. 

"Sorry," he stammers, "I'm like...star-struck or something." You straddle him once more, your thumb gently grazing his lower lip, the delicate almond-shaped acrylic nail tracing along his upper teeth. You observe the transformation in his expression as he shifts from awe to sheer desperation, all while you slowly lower yourself onto his throbbing anticipation. 

“Hmm,” You throw your head back with a blissful sigh of contentment, adjusting to his size. And Jisung can hardly believe it; he’s actually going to marry you and keep you in his life forever. He gets to feel this forever.   

The thought is making him impossibly hard as hips rock into you, emptying out those moans he’s grown to love so much. 

  “Jisung, you feel so good right now, baby,” you purr into his ear, his nails digging into your thighs to get a firmer grip as you ride him, writhing, whining hips giving him chills as you engulf him from every angle. 

“Goddamn,” He moans. “You do too.” 

When Jisung vocalizes during sex, it comes from some deep, carnal place that drives you absolutely mad. And then, he finds his second wind, snaking one arm around your waist, the other supporting his weight on the couch as he starts plunging into your pussy. You're losing composure, your choppy moans matching the tempo of his thrusts as your eyes roll back in your head, being fucked dumb over his shoulder.    When he tires, it’s like a perfect pass off, the way you grind against him.  He releases a guttural noise, head back against the futon as he slaps your thigh in encouragement, coaxing you to keep riding him just…like…that.    He looks up at you again, with stars in his eyes.  “I wish you could see yourself right now.”    “I can.” Your arm around his neck, fingers in his hair, you can see yourself in the reflection of the chain of mirrors along the wall behind you both.    “Oh, good,” Jisung says with a half-smile, your cunt still swallowing him up at this languid pace.  “See how pretty you look when you’re being fucked senseless like this?” He watches your face, the way your chest flutters with tiny gasps and your face twitches when you hit that certain spot.    "Yeah, I do," you barely manage to respond.    “Only thing prettier is how you look when you cum.” His praise pushes you further, two fingers sliding between your lips that you welcome, and Jisung closes his eyes, all of his senses overstimulated as he dangerously evades his orgasm, thanks to shutting out the sight of you absolutely wracked with pleasure, bouncing on his cock, with his fingers at the back of your throat.    You can’t speak, your mouth obstructed, so you begin to whine instead, and he presses on your tongue, making you gag over and over again as you unravel on him.  Jisung feels you cumming, he puts both arms around your waist as he pounds into you from below until he pulls you down a final time, his breath hitching as he allows his release to take over, cursing as he empties inside of you.    As your bodies slowly come down from the peak of ecstasy, you stay intertwined, breathless and sated.  The room is filled with a warm, intimate silence, broken only by the occasional soft sigh and the sound of your synchronized heartbeats.    Jisung gazes into your eyes with a tender expression, his fingers softly brushing a strand of hair away from your face.  “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you,” he whispers.    You smile warmly in response, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.  “I feel the same way,” you murmur against his lips.  “Forever sounds pretty perfect.”    The two of you lay there for a while longer, basking in the post-coital afterglow and the knowledge that your love has reached a new level of commitment. The future seems brighter and more promising than ever before, filled with endless possibilities now for the careers of you both. 

Eventually, you two gather the strength to get up and clean up the evidence of your passionate encounter. As you help each other get dressed, there's a sense of contentment and serenity in the air.  With one last lingering kiss, you make your way back outside to catch an Uber back to the hotel, likely for a highly-anticipated round two.      What? You two are rockstars.  Did you expect anything less? 

[mint-yooxgi]

Until Your Lungs Give Out - Prologue

Yandere AU & Dystopian AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Sci-fi, Dystopian

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 1,331

Warnings: Minor violence mentioned. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I blame @anyamaris for feeding my ideas, and thus helping me create this. I plan for it to be almost a mix between Resident Evil dystopia (movies, specifically the third) and My Chemical Romance Danger Day's dystopia world. With robots! I really hope you all enjoy this little teaser hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

The crackle of static sounds through your headpiece. The low hum of electricity surrounds you, what’s left of the city’s lights flickering above you as you race down the deserted streets. The heart of the city is a dangerous place, no matter how abandoned it might be. You’ll risk it any day of the week. 

You have to. There’s no other choice.

Long since has the world gone to shit. 

No, no major disease wiped out the planet. No virus that caused people to become the living dead, either. Humans are very much still alive, though their numbers dwindle every day, replaced by the Bots of Life, guaranteeing that people can never truly die. 

These androids are so lifelike, that you cannot easily tell the difference between them and humans unless you are looking for them. Emotions, memories, habits - they are all the same. 

Life Bots, another term for these machines, require a human host. Millions of underground facilities have been made to house the Sacrifices - unlawfully named, in your opinion - for the Bots of Life to thrive. All that’s needed is a specialized pod and a mind link, and humans never have to age again. They can live vicariously through their android counterparts, forever.

Great sale’s pitch! If humans actually got a choice in the matter… 

What’s left of humanity fight to survive, living in hidden suburbs and scraping to get by every day. Every Life Bot is programmed to deliver humans to their intended Sacrificial Pod, destroying what’s left of the living world.

No more hunger. No more strife, chaos, or pain. Only order, and peace.

All things which are easier said than done.

An interesting side effect early Life Bot integrators noticed was how suddenly, members of their family which had undergone the Sacrifice seemed to lose all previous autonomy. The Creator made sure to emphasize his ideals into the Bots of Life, nearly forcing every human associated with one to make the change. He wanted total control over every living human, holding their lives in the palms of his hand for his own gains.

Naturally, the humans rebelled.

War broke out, and now all that remains of the earth above sea level are wastelands. Deserts span more areas than they used to, cracked, dry earth giving way to dead zones not even the Life Bots dare to traverse.

Still, there are those unlucky enough to be forced to live above ground without any protection, unable to have afforded to buy their way into the luxurious underwater cities or air fortresses that had been massed produced for the majority of the upper class and wealthy in society. Those left behind are stranded, lest they be forced to become a Life Bot of their own.

That’s where you come in.

You are one of the last few survivors in this division who still remains on earth, fighting for the human’s survival. Looking out for the stranded is what you do best, and you’ve made taking down Life Bots look like it’s child’s play. Which is exactly why you’re racing to answer the distress call you’ve just received not even a mere five minutes ago. There seems to be one human in particular that keeps sticking his nose into trouble looking for spare parts and supplies. It’s starting to get on your nerves, for he also seems insistent to flirt with you every chance he gets.

Only this time, he’s not alone.

When you originally latched onto the signal, you heard at least three distinct voices calling for help. The noises in the background indicated a fight, so there had to at least have been two more people with them, holding off the Life Bots at the time. You just hope you make it before someone gets hurt. Or worse.

Revving the engine to your motorcycle, you pick up your speed. The distress call came from just around the corner two more blocks up, and from the littered corpses of Life Bots you can see lining the street, you know a fight has just taken place here not that long ago.

Rounding the corner, you skid to a halt.

The screeching of your tires on the asphalt draws the attention of the small group of about eight males that seems to be surrounded on all sides by a small hoard of twenty Life Bots. A few hold makeshift weapons, like broken pipes and a rusted crowbar, while two hold Laftas, specialized stun guns made for subduing the Bots of Life. One practically cowers on the ground amidst the circle of survivors, covering their ears and shaking uncontrollably as his friends surround him as best they can.

The moment you hop off of your bike, you notice a familiar male’s eyes light up, hope dancing on his features. A smile begins to stretch across his features.

A click of your helmet, and it retracts from your face, practically disappearing from sight.

“I told you she would come!” Wooyoung, your resident damsel in distress, and certified pain in your ass, cheers.

“Yeah, yeah,” the tall one with what appears to be a sniper riffle strapped to his back, rolls his eyes. “If we manage to get out of this alive, remind me to give you one of my chocolate bars from my hidden stash.”

The way Wooyoung’s eyes light up even further says it all.

“Can’t go one day without getting yourself into trouble, huh, Gopher?” There’s an almost teasing lilt to your voice despite the disappointed sigh you heave as you spring into action.

Drawing your katana from your back, you unholster your Lafta.

“Guilty.” He chuckles, shrugging lightly.

You get to work, slicing through the Bots of Life as if they were made of silk rather than metal. With your opposite hand, you manage to shoot every target you set your eyes upon, cleaning up this mess in no time. Once finished, you make a show of twirling your sword a few times before sheathing it, shoving your gun back into its holster with a firm thwack.

“There,” you send a firm nod in their direction. “Get yourselves someplace safe before more of them return. I don’t like making multiple pitstops for the same people in the same night.”

You turn around, moving back over towards your bike before a voice calling out to you from behind halts you in your tracks.

“Wait!” 

You spare the unfamiliar male a glance over your shoulder. He seems to have somewhat shaggy black hair, a black and red leather jacket covering his torso. A red birthmark rests beside his left eye.

“How can we ever repay you?”

You offer him a tight smile in return, noticing how more than just Wooyoung seems to be staring at you with wide eyes filled with awe.

“Keep yourselves out of trouble, and you won’t have to.”

The one crouched on the ground finally stands back to his feet. He rests a trembling hand on the shoulder of the male closest to him, who is also wearing a black and red leather jacket, but in a slightly different style.

“Really,” his voice comes out shaky, staring at you through thinly wired glasses. A tattered beige cardigan rests over his shoulders, a stark head of bright blue hair falling over his forehead and almost covering his eyes. “We should be able to do something.”

You huff slightly to yourself in amusement, finally crossing the last few steps to your motorcycle.

“Don’t worry about it.”

With a smooth movement, your leg is tossed over the seat, the engine revving to life. A click to your ear, and your helmet has rematerialized.

A final nod is sent their way before you’re racing back down the street, on the hunt for any more distress calls that might come your way for the night.

That is the last they see of you for two weeks, until your entire worlds come crashing down.

[esmedelacroix]

10 days til' Christmas

figureskater!reader and hockeyplayer!gojo satoru's complicated relationship ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

cw: miscommunication trope(Im sorry i know its annoying but like just read)

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Blue robin eggs, the sky, ice, oceans, jeans, pools, Uranus, smithsonite, opal, moonstones, and waterfalls. A list of all the things that are blue that could never do me any harm. But his eyes, they captivate they attract then they destroy and demolish.

On multiple occasions, I have been called the best figure skater of my time. I have broken records in multiple countries for the most turns, the first triple axel landed, first this and that. It felt good. Hell, it felt great.

But the truth is, I am a nervous wreck. Spinning is my specialty I do it so well and no one knows how. They say it seems like I never get dizzy.

But there is one thing I need that is always there to help me do what I do. Any dancer knows that the key to a good round of spins is a spot. Something you can focus on and keep looking at repeatedly so that you don't get dizzy.

When I spin I look for blue. Calming and beautiful but harsh and unpredictable. I look for him. Those eyes scream at me for attention. I turn so well because when I look away, my body forces me to look right back. But I could never tell him that. He hates me.

. . .

I'm the best hockey player because I practice more than the average player. I am the best because I worked too hard not to be. It is not an opinion it is fact. Most coaches will tell you that teamwork is key and I agree 100%. But, they lie when they say one singular person can't beat a full team of players because I can. That's—how good I am.

I stopped playing hockey because I loved it, years ago. I probably fell out of love with the sport when I was like 13. Now I play hockey because I love someone.

She's always there. Before I hit the ice she's out there destroying it while looking the most beautiful. We hockey players always complain about the figure skaters ruining our ice before we practice but truthfully I don't mind that she's the one ruining it. I wouldn't even mind if she ruined me.

She's already done a lot of damage to me, why not just finish me off and kill all my hopes of ever being in love again. I don't have to be in the rink two hours before practice and go over 'game strategies' when I'm really watching her skate. But I do it anyway because she has a way of pulling me in and then pushing me out. I love it.

I love her. I love seeing her. I love every second I'm in the same rink as her. I love how my mind plays games with me and tricks me into thinking that when she spins she looking straight into my eyes. Because I would rather think that than think about how much she hates me.

. . .

"Darling, you won't know if you don't try," your mom urged.

You let out a long sigh and just got into the car. Your mom was a figure skater on her way to stardom before she tore her ACL and could never compete again.

Anyone who didn't know you and your mom's relationship would assume she was trying to live vicariously through you. Truthfully she was against you doing figure skating, after you decided you wanted to follow in her footsteps and figure skate as well.

You had watched a recording of her last competition. She did pair skating and she was in a last-leg competition to compete for Team USA in the Olympics. When she did her throw triple axel it looked beautiful in the air and the landing was swift. But she started making pained faces and soon enough she fell and couldn’t move her leg.

She had attempted to skate through an injury to her ACL and in the 30 seconds she skated after tearing it, she did irreversible damage to her leg. She was used to performing through pain but she said she had never felt such pain in her whole life. That's what made you want to start skating. The fact that your mother was so devoted to her sport that she could skate through one of the most painful injuries. That sparked your interest, you believed skating could make you strong. And it did but it also made you love.

You were hesitant to go to the figure skating lessons that you begged your parents to take you to because you were nervous. You loved to skate but you couldn't shake the feeling of prying eyes on you when you spun.

Since you were six years old you would go to the rink an hour earlier and practice until you got it right. The hockey boys usually had their practices after yours. So they waited to practice while watching you skate.

You had private lessons ever since you started making a multitude of qualifiers when you were in middle school. So, some of the hockey boys would be going over their game plans while you skated alone and some would just watch.

They didn't like you. Or one of them especially didn't like you. Gojo Satoru. Only the hottest guy in junior year. You had made enemies with him when the two of you were a lot younger. It didn't help that your parents were the best of friends and thought the two of you were close.

Every day you prayed the incident was just a dream and you were going to wake up and go to practice and maybe bump into Gojo and meet him again for the first time under better circumstances.

. . .

You were extremely late for your lessons. You had gone from your middle school promotional courses to tutoring then straight to the rink, no rest. You were running on three hours of sleep as a 13-year-old. As you sprinted down the halls nothing was on your mind but how you were about to apologize to your trainers. The boy's hockey team had a game on the main rink so you had to go to a side rink.

Without looking where you were going immediately slide out to ice. You were deaf and blind to the screaming boys and crowd and the lights shone in your eyes as a member of the opposing team was skating at you with the puck in his possession at full speed.

Wrong rink, wrong time, wrong position. You begged the ice to swallow you and consume you. Your legs were stone and your mind was cluttered. All you could hear was Gojo pleading for you to move out of the way so you wouldn't get hurt while racing towards you.

. . .

The drive to the rink was silent as you let thoughts of how you would possibly make it through practice today run wild. He would be there watching you with those eyes of his.

He had been away for a week at a tournament and you weren't taking it very well. His absence was kryptonite to your performance.

When the blades of your shoes hit the frigid ice you felt his eyes on you. In that moment your body burned like a furnace. No matter how cold his eyes were they had a way of setting you on fire.

The smell of dirty hockey equipment invaded your nose then all your senses. You took position and as your music started you allowed it to carry you across the ice. Once it was time for you to turn you hit every. Single. One. Your spot was blue. Your spot was him. It was good he was back.

Once your piece ended you received some applause from your coaches and some of the hockey boys. All the praise was worth nothing because you could have sworn he was watching you. So when you looked at him to see his arms crossed and gaze directed somewhere else, your heart sunk a little. He was completely unbothered by you, and you hated it.

. . .

I was afraid that if I looked at her after her beautiful performance I might’ve cried. She made her new choreography look unreal. I hadn't seen her in what felt like a lifetime. I missed our little glances that I would always hallucinate were longing, knowing glances.

I missed the 40 seconds in passing that we would talk to each other as I got on the ice and she left the ice. I missed the dinners that our parents would force us to have together. Where we would have a civil conversation 'for our parents' sakes'(I truthfully looked forward to those dinners).

I looked forward to the hug I would give her. My arms wrapped around her cold body. My hands would graze her smaller cold ones. She would be fresh out of the shower after an evening session, and her hair would smell like her fruity shampoo and her sweet honey-scented conditioner. When she walked by me quick enough, the smells would waft and invade my nose and numb my senses.

Even when I looked away from her trying not to look in her direction, my mind wouldn't shut up about her.

. . .

I hated how his lack of attention towards me bothered me so much. I hated how no matter how hard I tried, I could never hate him as much as he probably hated me. Today would be different. You wouldn't bother him today. As you skated off the ice you ignored him and skated right off. It took everything in you not to look back at him.

. . .

You stood unable to move as if your skates were frozen into the ice. Then everything went completely dark and all you could hear was the screams of your parents. You felt someone pushing you to the ground then everything went black.

. . .

next part → 8 days til' christmas

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taglist:

@aripet22

[daisynik7]

A Bento For Kento

Chapter 1: The Very First Bento

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: mention of a tragic accident (does not go into detail)

Summary: You make the very first bento box for your dear brother, Ren. You also find out some surprising news. Nanami hasn't found a new bakery to buy his typical ham and cheese sandwich. He eyes his new student's bento box with envy.

Notes: The first bento box is inspired by this: Cute Octopus Sausage Bento! I mean, how cute is this?! Let me know in the comments, chat, or in a private message if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)! And thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated :)

ao3 | Next Chapter

A Bento for Kento Masterlist

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White rice, check. Chicken gyozas, check. Spring mix salad with a side of creamy miso dressing, check. Hot dog pieces shaped like little octopi, because why the hell not, check. All in the bento they go, you think, in a sing-song voice. 

It’s the beginning of summer and the temperature is finally starting to warm up. This season always puts you in a lazy mood, more so than usual. Hearing the neighborhood kids play joyfully outside makes you wish you had a mandated break as well. But no, you are an adult! Almost thirty in fact. Unfortunately, you haven’t had a vacation in years, so you will continue to flow through the mundane cycle of adulthood until you’re retired or, fingers crossed, win the lottery. None of which you predict will happen in the near future.

Thankfully, your job allows you to work from home most days of the year. This is especially nice because this summer, your dear younger brother, Ren, is living with you. Your parents originally planned a long family vacation overseas with him, having never had a chance to travel before. You were excited for him to see the outside world, explore his horizons. Since you couldn’t go because of your responsibilities to your 9-to-5, you were planning to live vicariously through him as he enjoyed the sights, sounds, and most importantly, the delicious food.

When he decided last minute that he did not want to go on the trip anymore, you were shocked. Your parents, being the saints they are, waved it off casually, not even attempting to convince him to reconsider. You questioned them to discover the reason for the sudden decision. They simply said, “He has his reasons.” No further explanation. After pestering them a few more times, only to receive the same answer, you stopped, leaving everything up to your own speculations. 

Maybe it was cold feet? Anxiety? An awkward phase? Overseas trips can be stressful, you can understand that. Still, you can’t help but wonder. It’s probably a hormonal teenager issue that you can’t comprehend, but your parents can, so you leave it at that. 

Because your parents couldn’t get out of all the deposits they made, they chose to go on their big trip without Ren. Not wanting your brother to be alone, you offered your place for him to stay, which he was just as excited about as you were. You’re happy for this opportunity to spend time with him. It’s been years since you moved out and you missed hanging out with your family. You also feel guilty about putting minimal effort into visiting them, despite being less than an hour train ride away. This is your chance to make up for lost time, especially with your brother, who you’ve always felt a special bond with. Before they left, your parents made it a point to tell you, “Take care of him while we’re away.” As if you needed to prove to them, and yourself, that you are capable of being the best older sister you can be. 

Truth be told, it’s been lonely living on your own, a revelation that you sense more and more each year you get older. Having Ren here, someone in your life who loves you unconditionally, is a welcome change. This summer is going to be exponentially better than the last five since living alone. You’re sure of it. 

The first Monday of vacation, fueled by a single coffee’s worth of caffeine, you greet your brother happily in the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine! Look what I made for you!” You cradle a precious bento box in your hands, slowly lifting it up like Simba, imagining “Circle of Life” playing in the background. 

Ren, fresh out of bed and still drowsy, stands in front of you, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Huh?” He yawns and stretches his arms out. “What is it?”

“It’s a bento box!” You lower it and open the cover delicately. Your eyes sparkle as you imagine a golden light shimmer from within. “I put this together myself! TikTok has a plethora of bento box content, so I took a lot of ideas from there.”

His eyes widen, gazing at the food as if it’s valuable treasure. “Gyozas! And hot dog octopi!” A bright smile on his face, he takes his phone out to snap a picture. “I’m putting this on my story, this is too cute.” 

You almost tear up hearing him praise your creation like this, but it’s too earlier for those shenanigans. Calming down from your excitement, you say, “I’m still practicing. And I’m sure I’ll run out of ideas soon, so if you have any special requests, let me know.”

Closing the bento and setting it back down on the table, you ask, “What do you want to do today? If you’re hungry now, you can dig into the bento. But I was thinking we can go for a walk at the park before we eat! What do you think?”

His smile slowly turns into a small pout as he shifts his feet guiltily. “Well, actually, I forgot to tell you. I start summer school today.”

“Huh? Summer school? But your school is so far from here! It’ll take us at least 45 minutes to get there!” Is this the reason why he didn’t want to go on the trip? All because of summer school? And if he knew that, why would he agree to stay here, when it’s so far away? You start to panic slightly, taken aback by this sudden news. 

“It’s not exactly for regular school,” he begins to explain. “It’s…uh, for this other program I’m applying to.”

You stare at him, brows furrowed, arms crossed, waiting for more of an explanation. 

He speaks a little faster now. “It’s a summer program for this school called Jujutsu High. A big opportunity came up and I took it. The lessons are three days a week for the next two months. That’s the reason I didn’t want to go on the trip anymore. I have to attend these lessons so I can officially get in next semester. I want to go to this school from now on.”

Pausing to take a breath, he continues. “Mom and Dad know all about it. I explained it to them. They support me 100%, which is why they didn’t make a big deal when I backed out of the trip. They know this is important to me.”

Your mouth hangs open slightly, still confused, waiting for it to make sense. Jujutsu High? Why is this the first time you’re hearing of this? And Mom and Dad know all about it? Why didn’t anyone tell you? 

Ren walks towards you and puts his hands on your shoulders, giving you a firm squeeze. When did he get so much taller than you? Weren’t you supposed to be the adult here?! “I know this doesn’t make sense, but it’s important to me. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. It’s just…hard to explain. And I can’t really tell you everything yet. You just have to trust me.”

He’s being weirdly cryptic, but you start to realize how odd your parents were also being the other day. 

He has his reasons. 

Take care of him while we’re away.

Is there something they all know about that you don’t? And why are you the only one being kept in the dark? 

You snap out of your thoughts when he starts speaking again. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being strange about this, but I don’t know how to explain everything right now. Just trust me. It’s not sketchy or dangerous, I promise.” He flashes you a reassuring grin. 

After contemplating for several seconds, you sigh. “You promise it’s not some creepy cult, right? I’ve indulged in my fair share of true crime podcasts. I can see the warning signs!”

He laughs. “If it is a cult, then I’m already screwed, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. I’m going to pretend that this is perfectly normal. I trust you. And I trust Mom and Dad. If they’re good with it, I’m good with it too. You don’t have to tell me everything right now if you don’t want to.” You pause, then reiterate, “I trust you.”

He wraps you in a big hug, “Thanks sis. You really are the best.” 

You return his embrace, still concerned, but ultimately deciding not to worry so much about it. It can’t be anything too nefarious, right? “Anyways, Jujutsu High. Is it close by?”

“Yeah, it’s walking distance from here, about 10 minutes. But I’m doing my lessons at a nearby office building. I actually have to head over there now to meet my teacher. Our first lesson is today.” He scrambles to pack a few items into his backpack.

How strange, an office building? This really might be some weird cult thing. You grab the bento from the table and hand it to him. “Well, take this. You’ll need food. Are you skipping breakfast?”

He packs the bento carefully into his backpack. “Yeah, I’ll just save my appetite for this. This looks so good. Thanks for making it.” He zips up his bag and swings it over his shoulder. “Well, I’m off! I’ll see you later.”

As he walks towards the door, you yell out at him, “Be careful! See you later!”

You take a deep breath and look around, sighing. All alone once again. 

~~~

“Nice to meet you, Nakamura. My name is Kento Nanami. I’ll be your mentor the next few weeks.” 

Ren Nakamura, aged 16. Gojo recruited him when they found him wandering around the abandoned building they were investigating outside of Tokyo. This is a trial run before officially offering him a spot as a student in this upcoming schoolyear. He has no history or knowledge of Jujutsu Sorcery, having been raised by a family of non-sorcerers. However, according to Gojo, he seems to have an eye for curses, having the guts to take them head-on with no experience whatsoever. And clearly, Gojo has his own eyes on him for a reason. 

“He’s adopted. His parents were killed in a tragic, mysterious accident and these family friends took him in.” Gojo gave Nanami a brief background last week. “It seems like since then, he’s had a habit for exploring haunted houses and chasing curses.” 

Gojo paused, then smirked. “The kid’s got guts, that’s for sure. He was taking on this ugly looking grade 4 curse with just his skateboard as a weapon. Luckily we found him before he could get hurt.” Gojo laughed and said happily, “He’s pretty twisted, so he’ll fit right in.”

That’s how Nanami ended up here, his summer dedicated to guiding this rookie. He still owes Gojo a favor, so they settle on this as a way to pay it back. Nanami actually doesn’t mind training young prospects in Jujutsu Sorcery. Teaching is one of his hidden passions in life. It gives him purpose, something his last job couldn’t fulfill for him. Plus, it’s fun and he’s proficient at it.

Him and his new student spend the first few hours going through the history of Jujutsu Sorcery and the school, Ren interjecting often to ask questions expected from someone who’s life suddenly changed upon realizing this unique ability. Gojo even made a surprise appearance to check-in, adding a bit more chaos to the mix.

After Nanami feels like he’s overwhelmed him enough, he decides it’s time for a lunch break. He looks at his desk and remembers too late that he did not pick up lunch for the both of them, which he intended to do. The local bakery he frequents stopped selling his favorite ham and cheese sandwich. He had put off finding a replacement for a while now. After running errands all morning, the thought of providing lunch slips his mind completely. 

“Nakamura. I’m sorry, but I did not bring lunch for us. I’m just going to make a hot tea for myself, but if you give me a few minutes, I’ll run out and quickly buy – ”

“Hey, no worries, mentor! I actually brought a lunch.” He pulls out a bento box out of his backpack and opens it. 

Nanami’s eyes widen behind his thick glasses as Ren removes the cover. It almost seems as if a dazzling light radiates once the food is revealed. Gyozas, white rice, salad, even hot dogs shaped like little sea creatures. He would never admit to anything being “cute”, but that is the first word that pops into his head, seeing this charming work of art. Ren stares lovingly at his meal, rubs his hands together, and begins to eat.  

As he digs into his gyozas, Nanami heads to the breakroom down the hall to make himself a cup of hot tea. Damn, that looked good. Need to remember to find another bakery that has ham and cheese sandwiches, he thinks to himself, waiting for the hot water to dispense into his mug.

He comes back to the conference room, freshly brewed tea in hand, and finds Ren pointing at his bento, mouth full as he muffles, “Want some?”

Shaking his head, he declines. “No thank you. I’m fine with my tea.” He pauses to think. Then he adds, “Looks good, though.”

He swallows before proudly announcing, “My sister made it! It’s something new she’s trying.” He hums happily as he bites into one of the meat octopi. The salad has been skillfully avoided, causing Nanami to smile for a fraction of a second before he catches himself.

He watches his student, all while taking a few sips of his tea. “Do you live with your sister currently? I heard that your hometown is outside Tokyo.”

“Yeah I do. She lives 10 minutes from here, so it’s convenient. I know I’ll have to move into the dorms on campus, if I get accepted that is. It’ll be nice to have my sister nearby, though. Even if she doesn’t know about any of this.” Ren frowns slightly. Perhaps it’s guilt? Nanami assumes that his sister is a non-sorcerer, based on what Gojo told him about his family situation. He also assumes that she isn’t fully aware of what her brother is now involved in. 

He takes another sip of his tea, unsure how to respond since he has little experience explaining Jujutsu Sorcery to non-sorcerers. In fact, he’s made sure to keep his personal life completely separate from his work. That’s how it was when he was a salaryman, that’s how it is in his current profession. He even swore to himself that he wouldn’t get married while he is still working as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maybe this is also an excuse to avoid the awkward dating scene that he finds so tiresome.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Ren asks, pointing at the remainder of the meal, which is just leafy greens. 

Downing the rest of his hot beverage, Nanami replies, “No thank you. I’m fine.” He looks at his watch. “Actually, let’s call it a day. I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first lesson. We can continue tomorrow.”

Ren stands up from his seat and rubs his belly. “Sure, sounds good! I’ll review my notes tonight and ask any other questions tomorrow.” A burp escapes his mouth, and he looks nervously at his mentor. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Nanami rolls his eyes, still hidden behind his spectacles, ignoring the crude belch. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 9 AM. Please don’t be late.” He remains seated as Ren stuffs his belongings into his bag and waves goodbye out the door. 

Removing his glasses, he leans his head further back on his chair and closes his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left hand. It’s been a while since he’s taught a lesson, and he’s not accustomed to talking so much. Human interaction can be just as exhausting as fighting off weak curses. Frankly, it’s overwhelming for him at times, being a man of few words on a regular basis.

He opens his eyes and sighs deeply, looking around at the empty room. All alone once again. 

--------------------

Tag List: @liliorsstuff-blog (appreciate you! ❤️)

[yandere-toons]

Hello hello!

I've been a fan of your writing for awhile and I just truly addoorrrreeeee how you write so amazingly!! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

But anyways, I was wondering if I could get some LEGO: Ninjago, the movie Lloyd HCs? I would love it if you can do both romantic and platonic!

But if you are rather busy please don't mind this oddly ducklings request! (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) ⸺ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇᴀʀᴇꜱᴛ, ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴏᴜꜱ 🍰✨

Movie! Lloyd Garmadon (Platonic & Romantic Headcanons)

WARNING: yandere, stalking, mild violence, social rejection, mentions of bullying, toxic mindset.

A.N. - Thank you! Let me know if you want more Ninjago characters.

PLATONIC:

Step outside, breathe in the humid air of Ninjago City and get bombarded with dozens of cameras and microphones. Lloyd is overcome by guilt every time the press harasses someone who is involved with him, but the person who he thinks the most of has a one-way ticket to unwanted publicity.

The media circus begins when Lloyd approaches his friend in public. One snap of a picture later, and almost everyone at the high school is telling Lloyd that his friend wants nothing to do with him. Lloyd sometimes wonders if this is true, so he reaches out quite often in the hope of proving that he is worth keeping around.

Koko worries about the frequent phone calls that last anywhere from seconds to hours and the constant questions about whether it is okay to have his friend come over to her flat.

She warns Lloyd that he is getting too invested in someone he only met a few weeks ago, to which Lloyd swears that he has found the one who understands him and does not judge him for his lineage.

Lloyd is not the type that goes looking for a fight, but his temper does flare towards whoever upsets his friend. He comes home while dragging his feet and lies to Koko about the cause of his moodiness.

When he thinks back to the many jokes hurled like stones at his friend by the student body and media, Lloyd assigns the blame to himself. The jokes often revolve around living life as a Garmadon supporter whom everyone should shun.

Even though he does not enjoy the isolation it creates, Lloyd takes the opportunity to introduce his friend to the other Ninja and thereby provide more reasons to stay in contact with him.

Koko is called by whoever may live with Lloyd's friend, people who bellyache about Lloyd knocking on their door several days in a row with the intent to visit. Koko once again quizzes Lloyd about the nature of the relationship, but at the same time, Koko will reprimand anybody who phones her with a complaint against Lloyd.

Once upon a fight, Lord Garmadon notices that the Green Ninja is muttering something about a classmate laughing at his friend while he clobbers General Number One.

Garmadon may let slip a rare comment about how he finds Lloyd's aggressiveness a bit unusual, but overall, he becomes a terrible source of advice. His idea of fatherly affection is to have Lloyd use his volcano should Lloyd ever feel the need to shoot someone out of it.

If an argument takes a wrecking ball to the relationship, Lloyd dons his Green Ninja attire and attempts to live vicariously through whatever bond his secret identity can form.

Eventually, he gets tired of only talking to his friend when the city is under attack and decides to deliver an impassioned speech about how true friends forgive each other and stick together. It is his desperate attempt at rekindling a connection he has become dependent on, so if it fails, Lloyd appears as his regular self and begs forgiveness.

ROMANTIC:

He will deny it, but Lloyd has asked Zane to calculate his chances of securing a relationship with his prospective partner. If the probability is low, Lloyd despairs and, at least for a while, resigns himself to short greetings and brief farewells.

As time goes by, Lloyd's patience wears thin. He starts asking questions, such as whether his chances might improve if there are fewer people around to listen.

In the early interactions, Lloyd is insecure about himself and relies on Kai to be his wingman and Zane to inform him which compliments and gifts have the highest success rates.

He stumbles his way through most conversations and expects to be humiliated. When he is not, Lloyd gets attached and hurries to make these interactions a routine part of his day.

As he grows more comfortable with the relationship, Lloyd acquires a protective attitude. The Green Ninja in him urges him to correct others when they speak badly of his partner.

This frustration doubles if those responsible have bullied him before, although the worst his civilian self will do is brood and complain about it to his fellow Ninjas.

The rest of the Secret Ninja Force is supportive until one of the Ninjas catches Lloyd following his partner home in his Green Ninja gear. Lloyd explains that he is making sure the trip is safe, and challenging him leads him to defend himself by claiming that his partner is too kind to mind his questionable actions.

If this is untrue, Lloyd becomes much more cautious in his approach but does not give up. He resorts to finding his partner when alone and conversing via awkward small talk, which snowballs into him admitting that he needs to talk more consistently to be okay.

Lloyd is not one to bear his heart unless tensions are high, so he is prone to telling white lies when the truth spells conflict. He is terrified of making his partner fed up with him and losing what he sees as one of the few good things in his life.

It is a fear he will do almost anything to avoid facing, including coercing those who would leak his secret identity before he is ready to tell his partner.

Lloyd is not quick to stand up for himself, so if his partner ever did it for him, he would hope that the action has a special meaning behind it. The knowledge that it is politeness and nothing else would crush him.

As the Green Ninja, Lloyd sometimes goes off on his own and refuses to admit that he spent this time watching over his partner's home. He views it as an act of service and is not inclined to think otherwise unless he is spotted, at which point Lloyd will be too embarrassed to return for a while.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

[gamerwoman3d]

Beta Tester

An MK1 Scorpion Smut imagine fanfiction

Note: if you wanna cut the story plot and get straight to the filth, scroll until you see the animated gif. Other info/notes in the tags.

Imagine you and a friend spot a man with a scorpion tattoo at a party once. Later on in a living room somewhere you find yourselves both talking about how hot he is, and gossiping about him and his overly generous, sweet wife, Harumi. Some months later you see your friend at a party flirting with some other unremarkable new guy when you notice your friend has some weird burn marks on their arm.

[Explicit/spicy below the cut 🔞]

As you ask about it, your friend just covers the burn and avoids the topic, preferring to talk about the flirty new guy. You assume the burn mark was from a hot stove, only to realize that it's actually a rope burn from some kink play gone wrong.

You need details, but worry that if you say anything right now you might scare away the uninspiring new guy. After all, the new guy just met your friend tonight and could not possibly have been responsible for the burn. The two leave the party together before you can ask.

Harumi introduced herself to you not long after they left. She has a gift for your absent friend. You say you'll see your friend tomorrow and can deliver the gift. Harumi leaves it with you in a small gift bag. The following day, your friend can't stop talking all about the new guy and the night they shared.

Your friend seems awkward opening the gift from Harumi only to find bandages and silver sulfadine cream - a type of wound care for open burn blisters. When you ask what's up, your friend confesses that not only have they been regularly fulfilling the hot husband's kink fantasies, but that Harumi herself sanctioned your friend's involvement with her man.

You shamelessly ask your friend to tell you everything.

As it turns out, Harumi wants nothing more than to be his little rope bunny, but they have very specific rules in their culture and in their prenuptial agreement; He cannot leave marks on her, ever.

Privately, the pair practices and workshops their rougher ideas on willing third parties. Your friend is one of those parties, and has the burns and bruises to show for it.

"This one is from a knot in the rope. I landed on the knot wrong when we took me down. We'd been playing with suspension. These little ones are from a melted candle. That one is where the rope was too loose and slipped and caused a burn. I didn't even notice it was burning at the time..."

"How did you not notice?!" you ask.

"He was eating me at that moment. He wanted me to squirm. He got what he wanted."

"Um... does everyone get what they want in that arrangement?"

"Well, Harumi wants him violently, so in her case no, she does not get what she's wanting. But god it's so good when he gets going. I hope she gets what she wants from him someday. She seems to enjoy living vicariously through me. She'll request that he take me rough and work off his energy on me before going back to her to do gentler stuff afterwards. I've heard her whimpering; by the time he's done with me, she's ready to burst."

"I gotta ask... has your new guy asked about the marks?"

"We haven't talked about it yet, but I suspect if I'm going to keep him, I have to call the whole thing off with Harumi and her husband."

"Just to be clear, we're talking about that guy with the scorpion tattoo, right?"

"Yeah that's her husband."

"That guy is hot as fire, what's his name? You kept calling him Harumi's husband?" you ask.

"At the risk of sounding even sluttier than I already sound, admittedly I actually don't know his real name. And I feel kinda weird just calling him Scorpion but... even Harumi calls him that when I'm around."

"Wow."

"Yeah yeah I know. I think he's some kind of street performer or magician, he does neat tricks with fire sometimes. It makes sense that he has a stage name if he's doing magic or whatever. But like... I'm not calling him that unless I have to see him. And the next time I see them is... oh shit. I'm supposed to go over to their place tonight..."

"You going?"

"I should call it off. I don't want to potentially ruin things with my new man. But oh god, if he doesn't work out then I don't want to lose my place with them. Let's face it, I'm not the only 'beta tester' that they employ; someone will take my place if I drop out, and I won't forgive myself if I get dumped and then also can't get my spot back."

"I wish I could take your spot for you, cuz like... damn. I'll call him Scorpion if it means he breaks me off."

"Actually... maybe you could fill in for me tonight?"

Imagine showing up to their door unnanounced, a white knuckle grip on the gift bag Harumi had left you as you practice the lie over and over in your head. He opens the door.

Confusion knits his brow as he waits for you to explain your presence. You ask for Harumi. He calls for her. She joins him in the doorway, and you reach out, offering the bag to her. You tell her that your friend is sick today and didn't want visitors; you thought the responsible thing would be to return the gift to Harumi. She makes a disappointed groan and says she really hated to hear that they're ill, adding how much she 'needed' to see them tonight.

Imagine taking a deep breath, and offering to help, just like you rehearsed with your friend. "I'm happy to help you with whatever work they were going to do for you tonight," you say from a script your friend made you rehearse.

The pair exchange glances and then look back to you.

"What kind of work do you do," he asks.

His eyes dart over your body in one quick, cautious overlook. He stops as soon as he starts; he sensed that his look caused you some tension.

"It's um, secure work, with a lot of lifting, uhm, yeah, I can at least help out with the lifting, if you wanna show me the ropes?"

You tell yourself that the word 'um' was not a part of your script. But upon hearing the keyords, secure, lifting, ropes, the couple's demeanor relaxes. He arches a questioning eyebrow at his wife. Harumi has a pleasant glitter in her eyes that speaks to her approval. They both nod slightly in unison and invite you inside. He's suppressing a smile as he looks you over again, with intent this time. He knows that you know what you're getting into, and is no longer as concerned about causing you tension.

"Make yourself at home. Bathrooms are on the left, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. We do the work in the weight room, which is down that hall. Do you need anything to get started?" Harumi asks.

"Just... one thing. Between us?"

Harumi looks to her husband. He nods and walks away, in the direction of the weight room.

"I just wanted to check if um, if you're really okay with this stuff? I don't wanna do anything with him without your approval," you say as another line you rehearsed.

"Of course! I'm happy to have someone helping take care of Scorpion's needs!"

Imagine thinking wow, your friend wasn't wrong; that name does sound weird.

You can't help but ask if that's his real name.

"It is, to you," he interrupts.

You look up to see him standing at the end of the hall. He makes a 'come here' motion with his finger. Harumi places her hand on your shoulder and gives you a gentle, affirming push his direction.

"You'd better go," she muses, "lest he come get you and drag you over there."

You know now for certain that she's agreed to loan her man out to you, and you also see that he's eager.

Inside the weight room, the floor is covered with foam mats and one wall is nothing but shelves of equipment for rope dart sports. A collection of shéng biāo are coiled and organized from beginner to advanced. The bright red, soft and silky ropes stand out as odd. Imagine following him inside this room only to find lit candles and incense at a small dragon-shaped altar in the room. A stand near the altar holds an assortment of more sensual things, including red silks, lubricants, condoms, dragon-etched ornamental glass pillar candles, and an unopened pack of that silver sulfadine next to a very visible first aid kit. He picks over the red ropes, spinning one in his hand to test for it's weight. Harumi enters with a woven basket full of red fabric, smelling of lavender and pumpkin spice.

"Use these," she says, "I tried a new fabric softener on them. They're fresh from the dryer."

He lets one slip between his fingers.

"Ooh," he exclaims, "they're still warm. And they're very soft. Thank you."

Harumi closes the door as she leaves, winking at you to bid you to have fun. The door latch clicks. Scorpion's eyebrow is raised when he turns back to stare at you.

"So you," he starts, "Why did you come tonight? What are you looking forward to the most, what excites you?"

You realize you stammered without answering as your brain practically buffered. He had a smile in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out. The smile spread to his lips as he unwound his top from around his torso.

"It's cute that you're stammering. I'm going to miss it. Most people stop stammering after you break through the touch barrier. We haven't touched yet, have we? There's still an awkwardness that I don't think would be there had we broken the touch barrier."

Now stripped to the waist, he picked up and fondled a length of the soft red rope. He sees the way you look at his body and invites you to him with a gesture.

"Would you like to touch?" he asks.

You inch forward and reach out towards his chest. You couldn't be more tense if you were on the brink of toppling a Jenga tower. You take the rope, and let your knuckles brush his skin as you rub your thumb over the silky smooth warm fiber of the rope.

"I meant would you like to touch me," he said.

He smirks, but remains still, his eyes locked on yours as you force yourself to concentrate on the rope. You let the rope fall from your hand and touch his chest with your fingertips.

The pad of his thumb gently grazes the length of your finger. He presses into your touch, gently runs one finger through the hair over your eye and past your ear. His voice is warm when he says "I like that."

His fingers trace down your neck and he says "It feels good. I want to show you how it feels. May I feel?"

When you nod, he reaches under your clothes to fondle the skin near your nipple. He finds your nipple with his fingertips and traces spirals over it with a feather light touch.

"Let's try that question again. What are you looking forward to, right now, in this very moment?" he asks.

Your mind immediately jumps to sex. You have a vision of you both naked, you helpless in his arms while impaled mercilessly on his cock. Your eyes dart to his pants involuntarily. You shut them, but he already saw where they strayed. He gestured towards his erection.

"Would you like to see it?" he offered.

An easy enough question to answer with a nod.

"Do you want me to take it out, or would you prefer to do it?"

"I'll do it," you say.

Imagine unwrapping his package like a present. You can feel his gift through the wrapping. You might try to guess things about this gift before you reveal it. When you do expose it, it feels warm to the touch, feverish and firm. It has heft, but stands on its own despite its weight.

"What do you want to do with it?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, lots of things... what do you want to do with it?"

He holds up the length of red rope suggestively.

"I wanted to tie you up and sling you from the ceiling, so that when I fucked you with it you swing back and forth on it in the air," he said.

"Oh," you said.

Fire, Oh my fucking god, fire said your body.

Then he leaned in close to your ear.

"What can I do for you to get you to do that for me?" he murmured.

"Nothi- I mean, it sounds fun... just get me off?" you asked.

"With pleasure," he said.

He tugged at the fabric of your clothes and asked if you prefer to undress yourself or if you want him to do it. Either way the clothes come off in a blur and he presses the warm soft rope against your skin, rapidly cocooning your form in a macrame sling custom to your body.

Imagine the softest, silkiest ropes whipping around some parts of your body several times as he worked you into a makeshift rope harness. The ropes are warm against the skin; straight from the dryer, they retain heat for a while. His hands brush against you as he works the ropes over your entire body. When he reaches between your legs to wind the ropes through, he grazes the skin of your inner thigh with the back of his knuckles. He pets parts of you as he works, enjoying the feel of your body, knowing you enjoy the feel of his warm hands on your skin. Soon you look like you've been woven into a fancy net. He slings the ropes expertly through the hooks of a pulley above. One last knot and he's hoisting you into the air and asking you if you're comfortable.

"Does it dig into the skin at any point," he asks.

Imagine the rope swing feeling surprisingly comfortable. Imagine it like a recliner you can lean back in, but which forces your legs up and apart. You can barely move, but find you can rock yourself just slightly.

Imagine him running his fingertips over your skin, stopping to pay attention to the areas that make you shudder, all while commanding you to tell him how you get yourself off when you're alone. He asks what you fantasize about happening when you're alone with yourself.

If he finds out that you're rough with yourself when you're alone, imagine the glint in his eye when he shows you a rubber version of the metal dart at the end of a red silky rope. These rubber darts are made for practice.

He says It stings when it hits. It is designed for training rope dart techniques, designed to minimize injury and damage. He says a good design will still inflict enough pain that one is forced to learn from their mistakes, lest they repeat them with a metal dart and potentially do real harm. If he thinks you're interested in the stinging sensation, he offers to test it on you.

He has a habit of running his a thumb along his "beta testers" genitals, asking them to reveal their most sensitive spot. He says he likes to play a game where he throws the rope dart around their bodies - the dart wraps their thigh or their belly several times, squeezing it tight, and continues to wrap rapidly until the rubber tip slaps the targeted spot.

The cringe from that sting is the best way he knows for checking whether the rope sling is tied well enough. Regardless of whether or not the sting was too much, he'll croon apologies and go down on that spot, kissing and sucking and sometimes gagging on it until he's verbally forgiven for stinging his helpless lovers.

"Can I get the oral sex without the sting?" You might ask.

He won't answer in words, just in an arched eyebrow and a smirk right before he goes down without further announcement.

He needs to see you cringe and squirm in the net he wove you into, and he won't stop pleasuring you until your body has locked up in involuntary spasms at least once.

Another of his favorite tests is the act of bouncing you on his hand while you're suspended. He uses the same circular motion as when he's spinning his ropes, only his middle and ring fingers are up, inside you, working your inner spot. The motion causes the whole sling to rock and drives his fingers deeper inside with gravity. He really only uses it as a preview to the motion you'll feel when he fucks you senseless in your sex swing.

The pillar candles aren't just pretty. They're full of wax. It might be massage wax or candle wax, but either way he shows you a magic trick...

First, the condom. It's on him. It glistens. He made certain you're dripping wet before he put it on. But now, a magic trick. He holds the long glass tube of the pillar candle, close to the base. He looks into your eyes and tells you he's going to melt all of the wax in the candle and pour it out onto you. You see the whitish wax in the jar turn clear at the places where his fingertips touch. The dragons etched into the glass begin to burn as if coated with lighter fluid. The wax turns clear underneath the dragon pattern. Soon the entire candle is no longer a white solid, but a clear, hot liquid, sloshing around in the glass as he gently shakes it in suggestive circles. You feel the circles mirrored between your legs as he grinds his cock against you.

He knows you want it inside. He wants you to plead and negotiate with him for it. You can have all his cock if you forgive him for stinging you... if you can accept that he likes to sting you, and understand that he gets off on it when he makes you feel stung. He'll ask if he can burn and sting you with the hot wax, and if you'll forgive him for causing you pain, ask if he can fuck the hell out of you, hard.

This is what you came for after all.

The liquid is hot as a motherfucker as he drizzles it over your body, leaving patterns of clear liquid that rapidly cool to white across the red ropes and reddening skin beneath the scalding wax. Thrashing against the pain, the ropes hold you in place. It is the wincing on your face that provides him his cue to give you what you came for; you've done your worst to his ropes and haven't freed yourself yet. Confident that his ropework is sturdy enough to continue, sturdy enough to let loose and fuck your brains out without worry, he pushes you back and lets his cock fall between your legs. He wastes no more time, sinking his cock as deep into you as he can get on the first thrust, trusting that gravity will sling you back on it harder as he rocks you back and forth on his cock suspended in midair.

He dumps the last of the wax and slings the empty pillar jar to the side. Clear wax dribbles down your hips and thighs and congeals there in white rivulets. He gets some on him as well, but it's strange - on him, the mess stays clear. If he presses his hot skin against you and comes back with white fragments of cooled wax, they fade from solid white to liquid clear against his body. The wax is all over his belly below the naval, and each rough slap of his body against yours just splatters more wax against the deep cut V of his hips. It looks less like wax, and more like someone with clear cum has ejaculated against him multiple times. Therefore it looks like a prophecy that you're currently in the throws of fulfilling.

Whether he takes you rough and flicks you with the sting of this practice dart, or takes you firm but gentle and massages your sore spot from the outside while railing against the best spot from within, he won't stop until you're howling in pleasure and bursting against him.

He'll lower your limp, spent body to the sweaty gymnastic mat below, untie you as you catch your breath, and inspect every inch of your body for marks as he rub a coolant over your burns. One free hand goes to the back of your neck to support you as he lowers you. Imagine the fingertips, still hot as a coffee mug from his grip on the burning glass candle, digging into the muscles at the scruff of your neck. Once he has tended any minor injuries with cooling gel or other first aid, he'll wrap you in something soft and warm straight from the dryer and carry you to the bathroom where Harumi already ran a perfect luxurious bath for you, flower petals and all. Once the pair establishes that you escaped the stinging play without a scratch this time, they leave you to your bath.

That is to say Harumi is pulling at him playfully and as long as you're satisfied, he lets her drag him to bed. All throughout your bath you hear their sighs and moans. You realize that if you like, you can play along in their audio drama; or, you can stay silent, soak it all up and relax.

[The end for now]

Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌

Need more Scorpion smut? Check this one out!

[elisysd]

Happiness is a butterfly - Lana Del Rey

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

Happiness is a butterfly Try to catch it like every night It escapes from my hand into moonlight

“What does one wear for a first Grand Prix attendance?” asked around Lyanna, half panicking.

Charles, who was reading the notes he had taken the day prior, looked at her. She had several outfits laid on the bed and was rummaging through her make up bag.

“I think that no matter what you’ll wear, you will be beautiful.”

He narrowly dodged a lip gloss that Lyanna threw in his direction.

“Can’t you stop being a cliché boyfriend for five minutes and help me? I’m stressing out Charles!”

He couldn't prevent a goofy smile from forming on his face.

“You called me your boyfriend.”

“Charles, please, you are definitely not helping.”

“It’s the first time you call me like that.” he said, coming up behind her to hold her waist.

“Yeah, first and last one if you don’t help me.” She whined, trying to get away from him.

“All right, all right, there's no need to get worked up.” he said, raising both hands in defence. “Be comfortable, that's the most important thing, that's just the qualifying session. It's watched, but it's not the real race. Tomorrow we'll be under more scrutiny.”

“Thank you, that’s what I wanted to know. See, you can cooperate when you want.”

“Do I get a reward?” he asked, smiling.

“Don’t push your luck, Leclerc. Get the pole and we can talk about it again.”

“You sure know how to keep me motivated.”

She winked at him before taking an outfit in her arms and locking herself in the bathroom.

But Charles and Lyanna definitely did not go unnoticed. American fans could be very loud and expressive. It wasn't long before the couple found themselves in the middle of the crowd, the fans first wanting autographs from Charles before they realised that Lyanna was there too and started asking her for pictures. Fortunately, security quickly dispersed the crowd and took them to safety inside the paddock and the Ferrari hospitality area. Charles kept his hand on Lyanna's the whole time, applying gentle pressure to let her know he was there without having to speak.

At the Ferrari garage, the atmosphere was just as busy. Engineers and mechanics were busy preparing Carlos and Charles' cars for the qualifying session. Soon Charles was pulled in by Fred Vasseur to discuss strategy, leaving Lyanna alone, unsure of where to go or what to do. Thankfully, she wasn't alone for long. Joris entered the garage, out of breath and as red as Charles' racing suit. He caught Lyanna's eye as she waved to him. He walked over to her and asked where Charles was.

“He was supposed to wait for me before coming here. I waited for like an hour and he doesn’t answer his phone. I had to order an uber to come, I was scared I would miss the beginning of quali. I should blame you and you should be the one to pay for the taxi!” he playfully told her.

“Sorry, we’ve been a bit distracted this morning… we left the hotel late.”

“Do I wanna know why? Don’t answer, I don’t really want to know. Well, actually that’s not entirely true. My love life is as inexistant as Santa Claus so I kinda live vicariously through Charles’, but not to the point that I want to hear details about your sexual life.”

“Well, good because I was not about to tell you anything about that.”

“Not saying that you would. Charles, on the other hand…”

She must have been making a funny face because he quickly added:

“Not saying that’s what he does! It’s just that sometimes when he talks about you guys, he has the tendency to say too much information and…”

“I don’t know how you manage to do it but, the more you talk, the worse you are making your situation.” She cut him with a half-smile on her face.

“I’m just going to shut up then.” He said while nodding.

Charles soon returned, wearing a jumpsuit and deep in discussion with Andrea. He looked concentrated and Lyanna didn't want to disturb him. So she preferred to stay with Joris, who in the meantime had gone to get two of the crew's headsets. There was only half an hour to go before the start of the race and Lyanna felt nervous. For the first time, seeing all the people involved around Charles and the car, watching him prepare meticulously, she understood just how dangerous the sport could be. She bit her nails, a bad habit she had when anxiety began to build. Her eyes were fixed on her boyfriend. He could feel it as he turned his eyes towards her and gave her a discreet nod, telling her to come closer, which she did with hesitant steps. He smiled gently to reassure her.

“Everything will be alright.”

“I know, it’s just that I don’t know what I should expect. It’s an unusual environment for me.”

“You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. I’m supposed to get in the car in five minutes, I jut wanted to make sure you were okay. Stay with Joris, he knows how things work here.”

She nodded and he pressed his forehead against her while brushing her fingers with his. she looked up at him and smiled.

“Okay. Well… be fast. And come back to me in one piece. I love you.”

He pressed a kiss on her forehead then on her lips, whispering an “I love you too”, before putting on his helmet and heading towards his car.

Charles managed to take pole ahead of Max by just a few hundredths, despite a difficult start to qualifying which almost saw him drop out of Q1. So it was a happy Charles who walked through the garage doors after a quick chat with the journalists. His first reaction was to find Fred and give him a warm hug, before heading towards Lyanna and Joris, who were in a corner of the room, away from any possible cameras that might be around.

He shook hands with Joris, who patted him on the shoulder before turning to Lyanna and giving her a hug. He could see a certain pride in her eyes, even though he knew she must have been anxious when she saw him in the car.  As for Lyanna, she could see both joy and tiredness on Charles's face. She ran her hand over his face, tracing the marks left by his balaclava. Somehow, she found him even more handsome this way. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sensation of her fingers on his skin wash over him, and sighed with contentment. He leaned into her touch before placing a kiss on the palm of her hand.

“Congrats champ.” She whispered to him.

“Wait, I still have to keep Max behind me tomorrow.”

“I don’t care, you are still my champ whether you win or you lose.”

He kissed her forehead while pulling her closer to him.

“I race to win, Lya, not to be second place.”

He felt her shrugged against him.

He let go of her for a moment, just long enough to go and take a shower, and Joris excused himself for a moment, needing to take a call. Lyanna found herself alone in the middle of the mechanics. Not one to stand around and do nothing, she decided to leave the garage. Outside, everyone was so busy with the cars and other drivers that no one paid any attention to her. She wandered the aisles at her leisure, soaking up the atmosphere, but not before sending a short message to Charles informing him that she'd gone out for a breath of fresh air and would meet him at the entrance to the paddock. She soon found herself in front of the Mercedes hospitality from which Carmen was emerging. The young woman saw her and waved to her.

“Lyanna! Fancy seeing you here! You should have texted me; we could have watched the qualifications together.”

“I did not know you would be here. By the way congrats on George P4.”

“You can thank him yourself; he is right here.” Carmen informed her, looking behind her as a tall British man was crossing the doors, followed by Lewis who was accompanied by a bulldog that Lyanna assumed was Roscoe.

“Lyanna, hey! Are you alone?” asked Lewis when he spotted her.

“Yep, I wanted to explore a little.” she replied, stooping down to pet the dog that was now demanding her attention.

They all chatted for a little while before proceeding to leave the paddock. In a corner, she was surprised to already see Charles who seemed deeply absorbed by something on his phone. He has his sunglasses on making, his expression a little unreadable. Hearing the laughs of the group, he looked up and spotted his girlfriend. With quick steps, he approached the group.

“Lyanna, thank God. Is it too much to ask for you to answer your phone? I was worried. It’s been an hour.”

Surprised by her boyfriend's outburst, she took out her phone and found that it had indeed been an hour since she'd left. With all the talking and laughing, she'd lost track of time. She noticed the dozens of missed calls from Charles and the numerous SMS messages and immediately felt bad. She quickly excused herself before wrapping her arm around Charles and intertwining her fingers with his.

“It’s okay, just… check your phone from time to time. I was about to organize a search party for you.”

Then his attention turned to the Mercedes drivers.

“How are you guys knowing each other?”

“Well I’ve met Carmen at your birthday party and Lewis is an old acquaintance. Remember, I told you that.”

“Oh yeah, it slipped of my mind.”

“Lyanna and I met in London, last year, I think? It was at a conference centered around environment and ecology. I’ve never thought that I would see her on a race one day.”

“Really, why?” asked Charles out of curiosity.

“Because if I remember well, when I told her I was a F1 driver she said very clearly that our sport was a disaster for the planet and that she could not understand how it was still happening.”

All eyes were on the young woman, who suddenly found the ground fascinating. Charles nudged her playfully with his elbow to tease her, whereupon she lightly pinched his arm, causing him to squeal a little in pain.

“Keep teasing and you’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

“Beware Charles, you are going to end up in the doghouse tonight!” joked George.

“Speaking of dog, Lewis if you ever in need of a dogsitter tomorrow I would be happy to take Roscoe with me.”

“I appreciate Lyanna, thank you.”

The group laughed together for a few more moments, before everyone went off in opposite directions. Fortunately for Lyanna and Charles, it was getting late and there were far fewer people around, allowing them to breathe a little easier and head back to the hotel in peace.

But their peace was short-lived. Shortly after entering the bedroom door, and just as Lyanna had left to shower, a notification from the Scuderia's official Instagram page appeared on Charles' screen. Curious, he opened it and felt a knot form in his stomach when he saw the photo posted. It was a black-and-white close-up of the brief moment they'd exchanged with Lyanna a few minutes before he started qualifying. His hand was resting on the cheek of the young woman who was looking at him with eyes filled with admiration. Their foreheads were pressed together and, had circumstances been different, he would have found the photo absolutely sublime. It was, but it was also a private moment. As if that weren't enough, the caption on the photo was not so subtly announcing their relationship.

Thanks @lyannamicheloff for being @charlesleclerc lucky charm. Pole Position for our favourite Monegasque.

A wave of anger swept over him. How dare they? Charles had always been more or less discreet about his private life, and although he had no desire to hide Lyanna, this was certainly not the way he'd imagined announcing his relationship to his fans. Lyanna returned to the room, a towel wrapped around her and her hair damp, completely unaware of what just happened. But seeing Charles pale and with a dark look on his face, clutching his phone in his hand until his knuckles were white, she understood. Gently, she approached him and took the phone out of his hand to look at the screen. Charles didn't try to stop her. He felt her tense up and slightly flinch when he threw his arm around her to pull her against him.

“I promise you that they are going to hear me. I don’t care if they are using me but I won’t let them drag you into that. It’s messed up and wrong on so many levels.”

Lyanna had never seen Charles this angry.

“What is done is done, Charles. We just have to deal with it.” She tried to calm down but sounded defeated.

“I’m going to talk to Mia tomorrow. I’m going to explain to her exactly what I think about this kind of shit. Don’t worry, okay.”

“I’m not worrying about me Charles; I’m worried about you. You have a race tomorrow and you are starting on pole, you should not have to deal with this kind of things. I’m going to call my agent and ask for advice. You should rest.”

She got up and took out her phone, already having missed a few texts and calls from family and friends. She chose to ignore them for the time being. She slipped an arm around Charles's neck as she rose and placed a kiss on his cheek before slipping out onto the balcony. As soon as she had closed the door, she dialed her agent and explained the situation.

“I don’t know Lya. It’s really up to you guys. You know that I would never interfere with your relationship. But if you really want my opinion on that, I will tell you to own the narrative and not let it be controlled by someone. But it’s up to you if you want to be public about it and how.” Told her Sofia.

She sighed. She was not comfortable at the idea to give a glimpse of what her relationship was like. Mainly because it was the best way to give people right to speculate, comment and attack them. She wished Sofia a good day and went back inside. She quickly summarized her conversation to Charles, who was lying on the bed, scanning the comments under the Instagram post.

“Some people say that you are using me for fame. As if you needed me to succeed.” He mumbled. “And some of what I assume are your fans are saying that it’s me who is using you. They are fighting in the comments. It would be funny if the situation was not so delicate and dramatic.”

Lyanna took the phone from Charles' hands and placed it on the bedside table before settling down beside him and forcing him to look at her. She had rarely seen him look so defeated and sad.

“We will be fine, we are going to find a way, okay? But for now, it’s late and you have a race to focus on winning. I don’t care about the picture. Well, I’m pissed off but it doesn’t change our relationship. Tomorrow, I’m going to show up with you and I’m going to cheer you on and when you’ll win, I’ll be front row to watch you with a proud smile on my face. Because I love you. No matter what the people and Ferrari think.”

“Thank you. For being you. I must have done something really nice in a past life to have you by my side today.”

When Charles arrived at the paddock with Lyanna the next day, everyone was in a frenzy, wanting a photo and a quick word with the couple. It took Charles and Lyanna almost an hour to get to the Ferrari garage, which made Charles late for his meeting with his engineers and team strategists. They had very little time to themselves, just a few minutes before Charles had to take his place in the car.

“Here, wear this for me, okay?” he said while giving her the famous horse bracelet offered by Lyanna a few months ago. “It’s going to bring me luck I can feel it.”

“You don’t need luck but if it can make you feel better, fine.”

She put it around her wrist before looking at him and taking his hands in hers.

“Well, it’s time for me to go.”

“Then, be fast. Come back to me in one piece. I love you.”

“I love you.”

The race began shortly afterwards. Charles got off to a very good start and managed, not without difficulty, to keep Max under control behind him. Then, on lap 15, the race changed dramatically. While Charles was busy keeping an eye on Max and battling with him, he did not see George attempt to take his chance a few metres behind. Caught between the two cars, the Ferrari ended up colliding violently with the Red Bull and was thrown a few metres above the ground, ending up in the gravel. The dust caused by the debris and gravel did not immediately reveal that the car was upside down, in a way it should not be.

=======

author's note: I'm going to go hide in a corner. I'm sorry guys but a little bit of drama was needed lmao. Don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts in the comment / ask box / DM wherever you feel most comfortable to do so! It's always a pleasure to read you.

taglist:

@zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @heeseung-baby

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[arvensimp]

I’m not sure how to ask this, but could you write something about Arven wanting to start a family with the reader?? Or just how he’d do with kids in general.. I’m sorry if this goes against any personal rules on this account..? Or makes you uncomfortable. ☹️Thank you!!

LISTEN. I am in a season in my life where I want a baby so very badly. I'm not uncomfortable at all with stuff like this. You're fine. 💖💖

Oops!!!

Arven x fem!reader, wanting to start a family, NSFW actual super duper breeding kink not just theoretical like "oh there's a creampie so I'm tagging this as breeding kink" like this is probably a lot...so forgive me father Turo for I have sinned

-

It's a strange thing to watch you sometimes.

You're a champion, one of the most powerful trainers in the region, and well-known for it. You've tamed literal monsters, not just sweet little smolivs and fidoughs, but nasty dragons and beasts of terrifying places.

Yet there you are, squatted in front of a group of five or six grade school children, one hand on your astoundingly well-behaved Slither Wing (one of the aforementioned literal monsters), as you teach them about its needs as a paradox pokemon.

The children ooh and ahh at it and reach out their hands to touch.

Arven listens as you very sternly but kindly tell them that Slither Wing can be a very, very dangerous creature. That while your one is friendly, they should always do their best to stay safe out in the world. Be respectful of wild pokemon and steer clear.

Then you let them have a pet at its soft fluff.

They marvel and giggle, and Slither Wing chitters softly. You coo at it, praising both the pokemon and children for their good behavior. Arven's heart melts.

He doesn't really know a practical thing about kids. He didn't really get to be one himself, and he didn't spend time with them even when he was one... But he really loves them. He feels kind of awkward about it in a lot of ways, especially as a man. Like, he doesn't want to be seen as a creep or something like that. He just really loves the thought of getting to be a dad someday and getting to take care of a kid and do things that he missed out on when he was little, like little league sports and birthday parties and holidays and stuff like that. Obviously it would be different doing them as a dad than as a kid, and he wouldn't live vicariously through his child... But he could give someone a whole world that he didn't get to have...

And he really wants to be able to do that with you.

You stand from your squat after having signed autographs for the kids and return Slither Wing to its ball, then jog back to Arven. His hand immediately goes to the small of your back as the two of you keep walking along side by side.

"Sorry about that," You tell him with a chuckle. "You know I can't say no to fans."

"No worries, I get it," He replies easily enough, scratching lightly at your back through your jersey top. "You, uh... You have a soft spot for kids...?" He asks it softly, almost as if he were embarrassed, but you're the one who blushes a bit, looking to your feet.

"Haha, I guess I do. Yeah... They're cute, y'know?"

Arven nods, and his fingers twitch just the tiniest bit against you, but other than that, the two of you are mostly quiet on your way back home.

-

Eventually as your relationship progresses, the subject of family planning is broached.

Arven notices that your PokéBook reel feed has been filled with videos of babies lately, from newborns to toddlers to videos of little kids playing with young and old pokemon, to pregnant influencers talking about...pregnancy trends? He's not spying on you or something, but when you cohabitate, it's an easy enough thing to hear if you're not constantly wearing headphones, which you generally don't. A good trainer needs to protect their hearing after all if they want to have an extra leg up out in the wild areas, and he gets that.

So one day as you're scrolling through your videos, and he hears a cooing sound of what is most likely a human baby, he asks. "Whatcha watching?"

You blush and turn the volume down. "S-sorry. I think I destroyed my algorithm... I keep getting these baby videos... They're really cute..."

Arven leans over. "Can I see?" He hopes he sounds nonchalant, but sweat is prickling at the back of his neck.

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You lean in, too, basically meeting him halfway, and restart the video. It's a cute little baby, definitely not even a year old, dressed as a mareep in a little onesie and hat. "Cute, right?" You bite your lip and press a palm to your cheek as you fawn over the sweetness of it.

Arven smiles; you look so adorable like that. "Y-yeah... Um. Would you wanna, y'know, dress your kid up like that? One day?"

You gush a bit and squirm. "Oh, I don't know! I mean yes, but I don't know about mareep specifically. Maybe? But a maschiff could be cute too! Don't you think?"

Arven has to resist the urge to grasp at his chest. That would be too fucking much. "So...you want...a, uh..." He clears his throat. "A...kid?"

You pop cherubi red right away. "O-oh! Uh... I mean. I-I think so? Yes... Would you?"

Arven worries his bottom lip with his teeth and nods. "Yeah... some day."

You smile, small and giddy, and scoot a bit closer to him. "Would...would you want to...together?"

Arven chokes on his answer, but you can guess what it is.

-

He wonders if there's something wrong with him... Or if maybe this is a thing with getting older, or a part of his "biological clock." Is that even a thing? He knows women are constantly put under pressure regarding theirs, but do men have one as well? Is it even a thing at all?

Regardless, he still feels like something is wrong. With him, of course, not you. Never you.

Every time the two of you are intimate lately, he can't help thinking about...certain things. It's probably harmless? But at the same time he still wonders if he's a creep.

He's got you on your back; he's pressed against your side, two fingers deep in your cunt. Your legs are splayed wide, one thrown over his hips as you grind erratically against his hand, just coming down from an orgasm. The aftershocks still occasionally jolt you, making your breasts bounce deliciously. Arven takes the nearest nipple into his mouth, worrying it into a stuff peak with his tongue. Fuck... He can just imagine your tits getting bigger and heavier...ready to burst with milk for your baby. They'd bounce so much more.

Shit, he feels his cock twitch needily against your thigh, and he grinds against you without thinking. "You ready?" He asks, husky and low.

You nod and give a breathy reply of "Y-Yes please..."

Arven sits up and moves between your spread thighs. He parts your folds and pauses a moment, just looking at you, your dripping center, still visibly pulsing from cumming around his fingers just moments ago.

You grind against nothingness. "A-Arven, please!" You squirm under his gaze. "I need you inside me..."

"Don't worry, Sweetness," He replies, taking that moment to rub the tip of his exposed cock over your clit. You jump at first then try to match his movement and get more of him, more friction. "I'll take good care of you, kay?"

You nod, and he continues grinding between your folds, properly lubing himself up before spearing you through in one swift motion.

You choke on a moan, and he watches with rapt attention as your tits bounce for him again. God, he needs more of that.

Arven moves a bit, adjusting his angle and your legs such that your knees are around his shoulders. Now when he fucks into you, the angle is deeper and rougher, and it nearly makes you cry from how good it feels.

When he leans down, effectively folding you in half, he almost wants to cum deep in you at that moment. Your tits are right there in his face, and your tummy looks deliciously pudgy. Sure it's not like a real pregnant belly, but he knows he could make it one. Your body would be his, and he'd watch you get fat with his baby, and your tits would get fucking massive, and he'd help relieve you when they got too heavy and full of milk and sore, and fuck he's gonna cum thinking like this, and isn't that just fucked?

He bites down gently on one of your breasts because it's right there, and with shaky hands, you hold his head in place, your pussy fluttering around him in a tell-tale sign of your mounting orgasm.

"A-Arven, god, it's good... I-I'm...gonna..."

Arven releases your nipple with an audible pop and noses against your breast. "Gonna cum for me, Sweetness? Fuck, do it. Please, do it." He begs. "C-cum on my cock... And let me cum inside... I'll be good. I'll be so good." He kisses around your nipple lovingly and teasingly all at once. "Let me knock you up. Make you a m-mommy, yeah? You'll be so pretty." One of his hands goes to stroke your side, and he feels you tighten around him all at once as you cum hard. Your mouth is open, but nothing comes out but the glottal stops of the starts of moans that keep getting choked up.

Arven talks you through it, his hips losing their rhythm and fucking against you erratically while his own pleasure mounts. "Y-you like that? You want me to make you a pretty little mommy? Knock you up with my kid? Fuck," He almost cums but barely holds back. "It'd be so good. I'll treat you so n-nice..." He bites down on your other nipple and finally lets his load go deep within you, all while he can still feel your heartbeat pulsing around his cock, heavy and hot and wet and tight.

He holds you there, folded in half like that for as long as he can, panting against your breast, until eventually his cock softens to the point that you actually tighten and squeeze him out of your cunt in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He chuckles as it happens then lets himself fall off to the side of you.

"I-I...uh..." He starts, still breathing hard. "S-sorry..."

"Sorry?" You ask with a breathy and cum-drunk tone. Your eyes look like they're swimming in the afterglow. "Fuck, don't be... That...that was something else..."

You're quiet for a moment, and Arven isn't sure what to say. You're the one who ends up breaking the silence. "Did you maybe wanna...see if we can make that happen...for real? Like, for real-real?"

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump No.5

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host. 

Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion! 

So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!

I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!

What does whump mean to you?

Oh dear, tricky to answer...

Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!

Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out. 

I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home. 

I made a blog and started reblogging.

Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.

Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.

The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.

So I deleted it again.

A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since! 

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first? 

Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan. 

I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!

Tell us about your favourite whump trope!

Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.

No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~

Okay so. Picture this.

Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet. 

Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.

Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt. 

Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.

Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.

LOVE that shit. 

Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!

Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?

Hard Question!

First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)

Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?

I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.

When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!

I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!

Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?

There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.

But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff. 

Fun? Yes. 

But hard.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....

Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!

I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!

I have posts for this but:

1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.

2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.

3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement. 

4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!

Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?

@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.

I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)

@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.

And of course,  I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it. 

Anything you'd like to add? 

I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!

It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[fandomfiish]

@inahallucination @theluminoussunflower ah yeah i still don't know who to tag so yeah KASDJASKDJAK am still writing the ATBDATE Au but this has been on my mind all day so I had to write.

"I do not understand why my son would ever do this, and it breaks my heart that-"

"Oh please, Mr. Perry you of all people should know why he did it!" Charlie's interrupted Mr. Perry's monologue causing all heads to turn to him, and he was smiling even through the tears that were still falling.

"What?" Mr. Perry could only say as he didn't expect anyone to interrupt him. Knox and the others looked at Charlie, some were trying to look at him pleading for him to just shut up. To Knox this honestly felt like the time Charlie did the call from god act on Mr. Nolan, this time though looking at Todd who was not stopping Charlie at all, both knew this was warranted.

After all, only Charlie Dalton can tell an adult a piece of his mind.

"Oh I don't know, at the night of his very first performance a night he worked so hard for, he was great ..." Charlie choked but with a deep breath he continued on. "He was really great, and you know that Mr. Perry since you were there. But what did you do Mr. Perry? Instead of celebrating your son's amazing performance you scolded him, humiliated him in public, and took him home without giving him any time to explain." Charlie let out a humorous laugh, as the other attendants started to whisper amongst themselves, apparently, this was not a known thing, and Charlie was glad they weren't the only ones who knew.

"I prohibited him from going to the play and he disobeyed me, what else am I supposed to do?" Mr. Perry spat as Mrs. Perry looked at his husband pleading with him to stop.

"Why? Is it because it's not part of your plan to vicariously live through your son's life? Is it because of how you want your son to live how you wanted you lived rather than letting him make his decisions and supporting him?" Charlie countered, the poets saw Charlie getting seemingly composed with a bittersweet grin, it was as if he was just waiting to say all of this to Mr. Perry.

"What do you know? You're an awful influence on my son, you were the reason why he decided to go through all of this stuff, to join that Dead poets society, and caused his life to fall apart." Mr. Perry countered, and it seems to have worked because Charlie's face fell, an uncertain look on his face and Knox knows well that he was already doubting himself in his head and what Mr. Perry just said isn't helping his case. Knox looked at Todd and the other nods, knowing they have to help their friend.

Knox stands up, along with Todd.

"That's not true Mr. Perry, Charlie was Neil's closest friend. And unlike you, he actually supports and helps Neil in all of his endeavors." Knox spoke, which surprised Mr. Perry and the Overstreets yet Knox didn't care.

"H-He's right, Charlie was always there to cheer Neil up whenever he's down, or whenever y-you say something that demotivates Neil." Todd continues, and they can both already see Todd's parents looking at him with wide eyes, Todd never met theirs as he kept his glare at Mr. Perry who looked surprised, his face getting redder by the second.

"You three, how dare you say all of these things on the wake of my dead son?" Charlie scoffed at the word 'my son' yet said nothing. "I want you three out of this funeral!" Todd's eyes widened and the three looked at each other, Charlie knew he would get kicked out when he started talking a while ago but he didn't expect for Knox and Todd to had his back, yet a part of him was glad he had friends who backed him up. So Charlie stood defiantly to Mr. Perry with a grin.

"Good, I don't want to stay any longer to this facade of a funeral." Charlie then looked at the two as well as the other poets.

"Let's go?" It was an invitation to the remaining sitting poets, hoping they'll join them. Unsurprisingly Knox was the first to join him, with a nervous smile the two gave a knowing look. And then next was Todd, to his parent's chargin as Mr. Anderson ordered his son to sit down, but was silenced by the person beside him, Charlie remembered that it was Todd's older brother, Jeff Anderson. Charlie gave him a thankful nod and Jeff nods.

The three stood there, as they gave themselves thirty seconds to wait for the others before they leave.

At twenty seconds Meeks stood up and joins them, his parents were surprised at his decision but before they could speak, in a quick motion Pitts stood up and went beside Meeks. Though surprisingly Pitts parents weren't surprised, they were even smiling at their son.

At ten seconds they looked at the last poets sitting, Richard Cameron as he didin't even met their eyes, just looking straight at Neil's coffin and as much Charlie dislike the other, he hoped that at least he'll stand by them right?

Right?

Ten seconds passed, and he didn't move a muscle, and Charlie could see the disappointed looks from the others and he decided to make the first move and left the venue with the others joining him.

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

"Charlie." It was Knox. "Where do we go now?"

Charlie thought of it for a while until he found an answer. "Let's go to the cave? Give him a proper funeral?" The others seem to like the idea, as they started to talk livelier as they arrive near the parking lot.

"We should buy some food." Pitts supplied.

"And drinks, because I don't know about you but after all that happened I'm thirsty," Meeks added which made them all laugh.

They continued conversing until a car stopped right in front of them, Charlie and the others were confused at first until the driver's seat door opened revealing none other than Mr. Keating.

"Mr. Keating!" The others greeted him, surprised yet elated to see their favorite teacher. "I thought Mr. Perry prohibited you from going?" Charlie couldn't help but ask.

"It is true that I am not allowed to join the funeral of Neil Perry, however ..." He looks at Charlie and smiles. "I expected something like this to happen and decided to check on you boys." Charlie looked bashful for a moment knowing that Mr. Keating knew that somehow he would make a scene.

"I ... How?" Charlie could only ask.

"Phone call from god." The other replied which caused Charlie to laugh. "I mean the two of them deserved it." He defends himself.

"You don't have to worry about it Mr. Dalton." Mr. Keating smiles which slowly melted any doubt in Charlie's mind. Then opted to change the subject. "So to what destination are you kids heading in?"

"W-we decided to go to the cave and have a meeting in remembrance of Neil, but we thought we should buy snacks as well," Todd answered, always calmer whenever Mr. Keating or Neil is around.

"Well, then why don't I join you in this meeting? Just like that night?" Mr. Keating smiles, and the others agreed with him and started to let themselves in his car with Charlie in the front.

Once the others were situated Mr. Keating start the car and starts driving to the supermarket after Pitts pleas for sustenance which made the others laugh.

"Since we're all situated I wanna ask why Mr. Cameron didn't join you?" Mr. Keating asked and the other boys shrugged, not knowing what really to say, or perhaps not wanting to say it.

"You know him Mr. Keating, always the holier than thou guy, I wished he joined us but knowing him he probably would rather keep himself in the good graces of the adults there." Knox was the one who explained.

"I just hope he doesn't rat on us." Todd was the one who spoke, which caused the car to be silent for a moment.

"I hope so too Todd." Charlie spoke as they ride to the supermarket.

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

He psyched himself up.

He can do this.

This is the only way he can save the others.

This is the only way he can help them not suffer the same fate as Neil.

He knew that Charlie would make a scene, but he didn't expect Todd to defend him. Knox wasn't as much of a surprise knowing those two, and yet Meeks and Pitts later stood by them as well.

And he knew they all waited for him to join, and yet he can't

He just can't.

And he know's he's the only one who can do this.

He stared at the door in front of him, knowing full well what will happen once he enters this door.

A breath and he knocks.

A voice so familiar was heard inside the room.

"Come in."

He turns the knob even if a nagging part of him is trying to stop himself but he didn't.

It's now or never.

"Mr. Nolan, I've come to confess everything."

Mr. Nolan looked at him and he felt himself getting small.

"About what?"

Another breath.

"About the Dead poet's society."

Mr. Nolan's eyes widened for a second before his face transform into a scowl.

"Sit down and tell me everything."



@inahallucination @theluminoussunflower ah yeah i still don't know others to tag so yeah KASDJASKDJAK am still writing the ATBDATE Au but this has been on my mind all day so I had to write.

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 (Eddie x Reader) Eddie hates seeing you in pain. What he hates more is you telling him that you’re scared of disappointing him if you don’t give him sex regularly. However, your idea of regular and his idea of regular are completely different. 

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 Fluff because I need comfort rn and I will have it! Also kinda angsty I guess? Idk man I’m living vicariously through reader tonight.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 This is just a short one because I’m in pain (thanks IBS you BITCH) and just want Eddie to comfort me and make it go away. Also I’ve not proofread this because I just whacked it out and put it out there for the world to see (or worldussy according to Pinocchio I guess)

While Eddie hadn’t been dating you for long, he recognised that this was one of the worst flare ups you’d had to date. The way you curled up around a hot water bottle and whimpered, tears streaming down your face as you waited for painkillers to kick in, made his heart ache in his chest. You’d reassured him in the past that it wouldn’t last forever, a few days or a week maximum. He trusted that you knew what you were talking about after having IBS for a few years now, but he still worried for you. Listening to your pained sounds when you moved too fast or when that sharp, stabbing pain shot through your bowel made him want to cry with you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice shaking as you tried to coil yourself tighter and make yourself smaller. 

He frowned, stroking your hair out of your face. “Baby, what do you mean? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

You averted his gaze when you spoke again. “It must be annoying looking after me.” 

“What? No, I could never find it annoying. You can’t control when you get flare ups or how bad they are. And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I dumped you for having a chronic health condition?” 

You mumbled something, but it was too quiet for him to pick up on it. 

“Sweetheart, you need to speak up a bit. I couldn’t hear what you said,” he replied. He wiped away one of your tears with his thumb then cupped your cheek.

“I just... I know you probably think it’s really unattractive when I end up keeled over on the toilet for god knows how long. And-” 

“Whoa, whoa, hey, calm down,” he cooed, laying down behind you and pulling you against him so that he was spooning you. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever convince me that you’re not the most beautiful, attractive, sexy person in the world. I love you and think you’re stunning whether you’re having a good health day or a bad health day.” 

Eddie sensed there was more to it when you didn’t argue back. He was so used to you telling him he was wrong and coming up with wild scenarios that you thought would put him off you. The fact you said nothing back alerted him to the fact that there was a bigger issue you weren’t divulging. 

“Please tell me what’s going on.” He nuzzled the back of your head and gave your chest a gentle squeeze, not wanting to risk causing you more pain by doing it to your stomach. “Has somebody said something to make you feel like this? Have I said something?” 

You were quick to shake your head. 

“Then what is it? You know you can tell me and I won’t judge you. I promised you from day one you could tell me anything and I’d never judge.” 

He waited patiently for you to respond, knowing that sometimes you just needed a moment to think of the words to say because you were worried about upsetting him or hurting his feelings (not possible in his opinion). He felt his heart break when you opened your mouth at last. 

“You could go out there and find a partner that gives you sex much more than I do. I feel like I always leave you hanging and don’t have sex with you as much as other couples do. Sometimes I wonder if you’d be happier with someone you can have sex with regularly, you know? Someone that doesn’t have to take days off because of a stupid health condition. It’s probably really frustrating being with me.” 

Eddie gently turned you so that you were facing him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you in the same relationship I am? We have sex all the time.” 

You furrowed your brows. “No we don’t.” 

“Baby, we have sex multiple times a week. That’s a pretty regular schedule. Honestly, I think this is the most frequently I’ve had sex in any relationship.” The metalhead’s fingers gently traced your brow and trailed down to your jaw. 

“But we don’t have sex every day. Other couples have it more than once a day.” 

Eddie laughed. “Just because it’s not everyday doesn’t mean we don’t regularly have sex. Like I said, I’ve never had sex with anyone as regularly as I have it with you. Three or four times a week is more than enough for me, so don’t apologise or feel bad about it. Any more frequent than that and I think my dick would drop off.” 

He grinned at the giggle he managed to get out of you. Even though you still had worry etched on your face, he was relieved to hear that gorgeous sound topple from your lips. 

“So you’re not... disappointed?” you questioned, voice wavering. 

He shook his head and pressed his lips softly against yours. “You could never disappoint me. I’m proud to call you my partner regardless of whether we have sex or not. I love you because you’re you. Sex doesn’t factor into my feelings.” 

You nodded your head and carefully shifted closer to him so that he could lie on his back with your head on his chest, resting roughly where his heart was. His arms wrapped around you and held you against him, thumbs caressing you in soothing circles. 

“I love you too, Eddie. More than anything.”