#there's more to the conversation but I cut it here to avoid it being long

[summonedglory]

Headcanon — On rage, sadness, and daughters

No proofreading, I will die on the hill of my grammatical mistakes. So I mentioned a while back that I wanted to write a drabble/headcanon about Fiora's conversation with her father, on the night before his execution. This is this headcanon. It's over 2,100 words long and not particularly well written (dialogue isn't my forte), so read at your own risks and while putting yourself in the shoes of an 18-year-old Fiora :') Trigger warnings for mentions of death, mentions of execution, mentions of death by poison, as well as dysfunctional family relationship and medieval misogyny.

Footsteps fell on the cobblestoned path that led to the jail, treading lightly and precisely—Far more lightly and precisely than the woman these footsteps belonged to felt.

You could have cut her anger with a knife—Eighteen years of itemized frustrations and grievances tended to do that to a person. Fiora had thought her wedding would be the culmination of it all. There were, truly, nothing more earth-shattering that she could do than to stand up for herself then, so close to the altar, and loudly proclaim she was her own person and would not be sold off as a political pawn in her family’s games or the Crownguards’. These hadn’t been her words exactly, but this was her resolve. At the time, nothing could have been a worse humiliation for her family than that, but it should have given her the chance to prove her worth. Her worth, not her father’s, not her family’s. After eighteen years spent stealing Cassian’s rapiers and making him teach her everything he knew, eighteen years of her parents’ attempts at moulding her into what a proper lady of House Laurent should be, it had felt vindicating to finally get something that would be entirely hers. Fiora might have pondered on the selfishness of this had she not been so angry. This was meant to be hers—Her fight, her chance at redeeming the family honour she had broken. She was skilled and confident enough in herself and her own abilities to know, whoever House Crownguard could throw at her, she would have come up on top. She would have won, her family honour would have been saved, and no one would have dared try to force her in a role she had no interest in playing ever again. Yet even that had been taken away from her, and by the very people who had tried to raise her to be someone she was not. Another event to add to the long list that fuelled Fiora’s seething anger.

Worse than her father taking her place in the duel had been him trying to poison his opponent—And her anger turned to rage.

Demacia had been built on principles of honesty, honor, and justice. Lord Sebastien Laurent, in his despair to save his family’s honour, had broken all these values. The fact he got caught was unsurprising and did not phase her—A just if humiliating consequence of his actions. Fiora had wanted to see him one last time before his execution in the morning—As if talking to him would somehow satiate her anger and placate her soul. Mostly, she wanted to look at her father’s face and let him understand the weight of the mistakes he had made. The man she finds in his cell is, however, not her father. Sure, he looks like Sebastian Laurent and his voice is the same it had always been when he calls her name, but he looks pained and small, and the sound of her name in his mouth feels strained, and lost, and hopeful—A far cry from the imposing head of the household she had always known, the man who hired a personal seamstress for her in the hopes she would take an interest in clothing, and who had spoiled his only daughter rotten, though with all the material things Fiora did not want or aspire to.

The realisation that he might have been the most amazing father to an entirely different child, just not to her, is a sour one and Fiora stills herself and stands in it for a moment, taking a deep breath in. The next step forward she takes feels shaky and uncertain, but she nods in acknowledgement more than in invitation. A few short steps had taken him closer to the bars, and he now rolls his shoulders back and seems to regain some of the composure of the father Fiora used to know. The familiarity of the gesture is enough to restore her confidence—and her anger. “How could you? Death by combat would have been a far better outcome than poisoning someone. I would have welcomed it, but you let your own pride get in the way of my skills and determination, and now—” A pause. “—now everything is ruined.”

Sebastian’s brows furrow in pain and hesitation, but Fiora cuts him off before he gets the chance to speak. “Don’t bother with lessons now. I know I was reckless. That was the point. You and Mother have always thought about House Laurent first, as a collective unit, and in your children as human beings second, and I was done entertaining that misogynistic ideal. Did you know I am a better, more capable fighter than both Cassian and Ammdar combined? I’m more sharp, more precise. I bothered to learn the actual theory and art of sword fighting, instead of just the moves, and—”

“I did not do it for House Laurent.” His voice cuts her off, loud, stern, and authoritative. Before she gets the chance to continue, he follows: “I am still the Lord of House Laurent, at the very least until tomorrow morning, and you will show me the respect this title is owed, instead of this childish emotional outburst. This said, if you have quieted down, I did not do it for House Laurent. I did it for you.”

“I could have stood my own ground.”

“You’ll have no choice but to do that now, yes.”

“No one of importance will ever trust or associate with House Laurent again. If you had let me fight, my success would have at least granted you all pity, and it would have been an honourable fight.”

“No, Fiora.” His voice grows soft again, and he extends his left hand through the bars. Fiora eyes the gesture cautiously, her own hands remaining firmly by her side. She had come here unarmed—a gesture of good faith, in case the guards questioned her presence—and felt impossibly small and vulnerable without her blade, a pale impression of herself. “People of importance will respect you now.”

“Nonsense!”

His lips thin and, for a second, Sebastian Laurent is not the Lord of one of the most important noble houses of the Great City of Demacia, but a father, frustrated that his daughter yet again refuses to listen to him, like she had always done.

“They will. But for that, you must be my opponent tomorrow. You must ask that a Laurent yield the blade that will take my life, and that this Laurent should be you.”

A mirthless chuckle escapes Fiora’s lips as she shakes her head. Her father had well and truly lost his mind, the plans he conjured up vile punishments for her going against the family. Here, however, he was behind bars, and she was not. This false semblance of power, mixed with the anger that had not yet subsided, emboldened her next words. “Haven’t I been disciplined enough already? You took away my opportunity to be heard, and now you would have me fight you? This is some new kind of cruelty.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, as if this would get the young woman to listen. “There is cruelty in being the head of a household, and even more in loving and raising children.”

She had not expected him to agree. Hatred was easier when the object of one’s loathing was not reflecting on their wrong doings. In her silence, her father saw an opportunity. “You will have to learn about this now that this will become your role, but first you need to hear me. Volunteer to fight and execute me tomorrow. It is the only way for you to get what you want and preserve the family—The only way you stay alive and prosper.”

“No. You don’t mean that, there has to be another way.”

“There are plenty. This is the only one which will give you the power you seek.”

She wants to say that this was never about power, but about freedom—about her own agency—something which she is uncertain her father could understand. In Demacia, however, freedom and agency rarely went without power—At least not for noble families, not for her.

“All you need to do is win a fight. If you are truly an exceptional fighter, this should be an easy feat for you.”

“Of course, it would be. This is not about that, father.”

“What is it about, then?”

Fingers clasp against his still extended hand, as if she were suddenly pleading—Though what she is pleading for, Fiora is not quite sure. For her father not to die, for her to not be the one to execute him, for the heavy mantel of head of household to be passed on to someone who craved it more than her. Contrary to what everyone thought of her, her rebellion had never been about power—It had not had that foresight. In all the near-sightedness of her youth, Fiora had reasoned that she was important enough in her own rights, and had wanted the agency to act as such without pondering on the responsibilities that went with it. Pride, however, prevented her from admitting any of this, at least not in such blatant terms. Perhaps holding his hand could be enough.

“You are my father. It would hardly be appropriate for me to hurt my own family in this way.”

“Disavowing me is the only way this will work, Fiora.” Still his hand squeezes hers, a support far too slim for the task at hand, but the only support Fiora has in this moment.

“If you are so desperate to protect our family, why didn’t you consider it before poisoning your opponent?” And just like that, Fiora extirpates her hand from the man’s, away from the uncharacteristic warmth of his support. His lips thin again, this time in disappointment.

“Despair, child, is a situation I pray you never have to face, though you might ought to earn a few lessons in self-sacrifice in case you ever do.”

Fiora rolls her eyes at his tone, suddenly back to being the father she had always known but that had never known her, and he scoffs at her attitude.

“I am trying to protect you. Your victory and my death is the surest way to guarantee that.”

“No. You were going to fight instead of me.”

“I had hoped this issue could be resolved this way. When it became clear it couldn’t, I had a lapse in judgement, but I am thinking clearly now, Fiora. You must yield the blade, you must become the new head of House Laurent, and you must ensure our name remains respected.”

It is a poisoned gift. Meeting her father’s request would unequivocally tie her to the processes and protocols that had robbed her of her agency to begin with, placing a heavy burden on her small shoulders. Though perhaps she could beat them at their own game, make her family a better and more empowered one. And if she did not meet her father’s request, Sebastian Laurent would die anyway, the glory would go to someone else, and all honours would be lost. The reality of her lack of options left a bitter taste in her mouth, copper clinging to the back of her throat as she difficultly swallowed. Her anger tasted like bile and her sadness like blood.

“I’ll do it—For the sake of Mother, Ammdar, Alarick, Cassian, and Damian.”

Sebastian nods, solemn, but then Fiora is the one who reaches past the bars to squeeze his hands in hers, fingernails almost digging into his skin. He will have to forgive his daughter; she is trying not to cry. Copper, as it turns out, was the taste of tears.

“Where do I start? What must I know?”

“First, that I love you, child. You at least must be certain of that.”

Fiora thinks back to her childhood, and to everything that has led her here. She thinks of the countless trainings in secret, of the family that had never seen her, of the love and care they had had for a version of herself she would quite simply never be. She thinks that even now, in his last moments trying to protect her, her father is still bestowing her with insurmountable responsibilities. She thinks that she likes a challenge, and is grateful for the possibility to go through these responsibilities her own way. But most of all, she thinks of fathers and daughters as two ships in the night, struggling to see one another and yet crossing paths. She thinks of honour, duty, and justice, and how family can twist the meaning of these words.

For once, Sebastian was the right father, and she was the right daughter.

[kimstills]

i can see you

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”

content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader.

word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao)

notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333

aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.

he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.

and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.

but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.

no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.

it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.

you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.

it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.

the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.

the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.

while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.

aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.

he cleared his throat, “what?”

aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.

“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.

he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”

rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”

aaron’s brows furrowed.

“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”

aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—

his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.

from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.

he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”

you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.

michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”

although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.

before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”

another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”

ew.

this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.

aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.

you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.

the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.

“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.

you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.

a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.

“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.

aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.

“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.

you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.

“use your words, honey,”

the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.

you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”

aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.

not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.

aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.

“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.

he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”

“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.

he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”

“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”

his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”

“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”

aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.

he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.

you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.

aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.

you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.

his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.

he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.

aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.

as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.

a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.

“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.

you whimpered, “just for you,”

“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”

you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”

his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”

with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.

oh shit.

your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.

he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.

you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.

“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”

you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.

he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.

you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.

you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.

“still good, honey?”

you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.

smack!

aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”

you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”

“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.

humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.

“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”

he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.

you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”

he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.

you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.

the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.

“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”

you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.

from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.

his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.

you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.

“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”

you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.

“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”

you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.

“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.

“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.

you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.

you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.

“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”

it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.

the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.

you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”

he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”

that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.

you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.

he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.

“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.

you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”

he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”

your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.

he pinched your nipple.

[luveline]

Okay, I would love to see an Aaron Hotchner x anemic bombshell!reader (lmao) who gets randomly faint and Aaron freaks <3

“This is oh so difficult,” you say under your breath, a sing-song tone to your voice. You often talk in juxtapositions, unhappy words in silk, cheerful worrying. “This is… stressful.” 

“You don't look stressed,” Spencer says. 

You elbow at him affectionately. “Do I ever? Sweetheart, there's nothing ever so stressful as to wear it on your face. Now come here, you have a pen smudge on your cheek.” 

Hotch could pinch the back of your shirt to stop you, but Spencer holds out a hand to brace you away from him like a disgruntled younger sibling while you laugh and reach for him. 

“Cut it out,” Gideon says. 

“Yes, boss.” 

Hotch turns away from you both to hide his smile. The case is long (as always), difficult (as always), and getting more and more serious as days pass. There hasn't been much time to pause and take stock, and so your playfulness comes at a great time —you need moments of fun like this to stop the weight of the inevitable dragging you down hard.

Your playfulness is unfailing. “So,” you say, quieter now to avoid Gideon’s attention while you lean into Hotch's personal bubble, “what will you make me for dinner?” 

“The same thing I've made you for the last four days.” 

“Ah. Nothing, then.” You tip your head to one side. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just feeling kinda weird. I really am hungry, handsome, and you aren't very gentlemanly in letting me starve.” You share a smile. You say everything so particularly, it only serves to endear you to him more and more. It's like… you're just sure of yourself, and in love with the world, and at least a little in love with him. Having you here with him makes the job easier. 

“You're hungry?” he asks, standing up. He expects no answer, nor for you to stand, but you clamber onto your feet quick as anything with wide eyes. 

“I was only–” You pause. 

Hotch can see the moment you lose sight of where you are, that far away gloss to your eyes, the rapid blinking that follows, and your hand thrown out to his too quickly. You grab at his arm roughly and he's crueller in his reaction, grabbing you under the arms with a startled, “Hey.” 

“Is she alright?” Spencer asks, his chair smacking the desk as he stands. 

Your lips pull down into a frown, eyes squeezed closed. He's startled —Hotch didn't even know you could frown outside of a joke. You're feeling that heavy, sudden wrongness that comes with being faint, he'd guess. 

He rides it out with you, holding you tight. After a few moments your eyes peel open, a spark of upset about you that quickly lends to sheepishness. “Oh, sorry,” you say softly. 

“Don't be.” 

You gather your bearings. Hotch moves his hands to a more amicable place on your arms, more to comfort than to hold, while Spencer stands and offers you his bottle of water. 

“She good?” Gideon asks Hotch. 

That perks you up. “I'm always good, sir,” you say, sending a smile at your boss from over your shoulder. “Just flirting with Agent Hotchner.” 

“Did you take your medication?” Hotch asks, cutting the fat of the conversation clean off. 

“Yeah, I never miss it.” 

He is admittedly more concerned about you than one coworker would be for another after a dizzy spell, but you aren't just a coworker. Hotch cups your cheek quickly in his hand to gauge your temperature and deduces from there that it isn't a sickness. 

“You weren't exaggerating about being starved,” he decides. Your iron pills do so much, and you have to do the rest. “Reid, what foods help with anaemia?” 

“Anything rich in iron. Red meat, pork, poultry, dark greens, especially spinach. All kinds of beans,” Spencer reels off. 

“Any of that sounds good to you?” Hotch asks, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. 

You meet his lowbrow with softer eyes, nodding your appreciation. Your lips part to answer him, but you're cut off. “Be quick about it,” Gideon says, glasses slipping down his nose as he turns back to his case file, “we have a lot to do.” 

Hotch buys you a burrito for the iron and a smoothie because you deserve it. You kiss his cheek, and apparently he deserves that for being ‘such a sweetheart’. He doesn't bother pretending he doesn't want it, or the second or third kiss that comes after.

[cherrygukki]

after last night (m) || two

➸ pairing: rich! ex-fuckboy!jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 7k ➸ genres: unrequited love, non-idol au, smut, angst ➸ synopsis: Jungkook finally sees you after several months since your last time together. Surely enough you'll stay with him unlike last night, right? ➸ warnings: possessive!jk, unprotected sex (don't be silly), whiny and vocal jk, boob slapping, mirror sex, doggy style and missionary, rough, manhandling, tons of kissing, dirty talk, uses of "slut" and "whore", praise kink, oral (f), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy whipped jk, reader grinds on jk's abs, hints of reader being afraid of committing to jk :(( ➸ author's note: i'm finally back after a long hiatus! decided to write another part to this since most of you seemed to like it :) this can be read as a stand-alone, but i suggest reading part one first for more context! feedback will be appreciated as always <3

read after last night (one) here

"Hey, I don't think I'll be able to go out today. My head suddenly hurts and—"

"It's okay. You should get some rest. Bye." You cut your friend off with a sigh before hanging up the 15-second phone call you held with him. At this point, you don't really care whether your voice sounded frustrated on the other line because you are. You've been waiting for more than half an hour at the destination you were supposed to meet, only to receive a lame excuse which clearly translates into him not wanting to spend time with you today.

You exhale another deep sigh once more before standing up from the bench you were sitting on, clueless on where to go after being left in the ditch.

The stranger you were sitting next to can only stare at you in pity when she overheard the conversation you had. After all, you went out of your way to make your appearance look as glamorous as possible in hopes of impressing him, even putting on the effort to wear a high set of stilettos despite the sharp pain knocking on your feet.

And here you are, aimlessly strolling around the mall like a lost puppy. There's no other goal in your mind right now aside from getting home as soon as possible after the sour event you recently experienced.

However, being set up by your crush is unfortunately not the end of your embarrassing saga. It was too late for you when you abruptly heard the heel of one of your stilettos snap in half, causing you to shamefully trip in front of a large crowd.

You silently whimper in agony as you hear the whispers of people around you.

"I got you." You mentally praise the heavens in joy when you see a concerned hand reaching out on your fallen figure. You grab it without hesitation while the kind gentleman slowly guides you back on your feet, ensuring to remove your broken shoes to avoid any more accidents.

You sigh once more, already embarrassed enough that your pride is ripped apart from a mere slip-up.

Looking up, you intend to thank the unknown man for his kindness.

Instead, your gratitude is replaced with shock within the flick of your eyes.

Your mouth hangs agape to see the face of a person you've never seen in weeks — no, months. Your eyes go wide like a deer caught in the headlights, your breath caught in your throat. And yet, you silently stare at him in awe. As much as you hate to admit it, those delicate features that adorn his charming face are still very much prominent. In fact, you even think he became more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. Hence, here you are, appreciating your ex-fling with stars in your eyes.

"Jungkook?" You finally found yourself muttering to him while his firm grip on you doesn't relent.

He merely responds with a boyish grin before carefully examining your body to see if you've received any injuries. "Are you okay?" he softly asks.

You quickly nod, "Yeah."

"I saw you walking around earlier," he states. "I was about to approach you until this..." he trails off to stare at your wrecked heels, "...happened."

For the umpteenth time today, you exhale deeply, having no clue whether you ought to simply walk home barefoot or buy another pair of shoes that'll damage your wallet.

Jungkook seems to have already founded out the thoughts troubling your mind, for he immediately grabs your hand and drags you toward the nearest store he can find.

"I'll buy you a pair," he voices before you can make any refusal. The only thing you can do now is follow Jungkook around and let him treat you for at least today, internally cheering with glee that your telepathic message has conveniently gone over to his end.

You ought to pay him back later.

Although you do intend to purchase merely one pair of shoes, shopping took longer than to your liking.

With your indecisive behavior and his extravagance combined, Jungkook almost insists on obtaining the entire shop at this point from how much you struggled to pick something.

Declining the offer, you settle on with another set of heels to at least match your outfit. While it may not be as comfortable as wearing some sandals, the wedged heels Jungkook gifted you felt certainly better than your previous stilettos, your feet actually feeling secure for once as they were much lower this time.

"Thanks for saving me today," you meekly say as you and Jungkook are wandering through the mall.

"I'm just happy to spend time with you." He replies before giving you another one of his signature smiles that has your heart fluttering for him.

With that, you suddenly remind yourself that you're still indebted to this man. You part your mouth to change the subject, offering him a treat.

"Do you want to eat something together? I'll pay this time."

His eyes widen from your utterance, and he's swift to reject your offer. "No, no! It's fine, really. I just wanted to help you out."

"If you weren't here, I would've gone home looking like an idiot so I really owe you one."

He couldn't help but giggle at your persistence, but he still shakes his head nonetheless. "No, ___. You don't have to spend anything on me. I really am happy to just do anything for you."

You groan in surrender, knowing that a guy like Jungkook is almost impossible to convince otherwise. Rather, it's your turn to grab his arm and lead him to somewhere you like.

"If you're happy to do anything for me, then at least get a coffee with me! I won't mind paying for you, I swear."

"I'm sorry if your day turned out to be quite unexpected," he says.

You quietly sip on your hot latte as you appreciate the view outside the window. Fortunately enough, Jungkook didn't turn down your request to eat at a café with him, albeit he insisted on paying for your orders instead. However, your stubborn self paid for the two of you at the end of your minute-long bicker in front of the barista. Aside from it being out of gratitude, you simply don't want others assuming that you're merely a parasite for his wealth. You humiliated yourself more than enough today.

And thus, you find you and your fling casually conversing over dessert and coffee as if God has replaced the douchebag that was supposed to be with you right now.

You glance over at Jungkook who's also enjoying his meal, staring at him for a fleeting moment before a smile unconsciously spreads on your lips. For once, you're thrilled to see him again after the series of events you had with him during your class reunion. You've done your best to avoid him for months on end, having no such intentions on being further associated with him. Although you do appreciate the kind efforts he's shown you on what you thought was about to be a terrible day, you can't deny that you still have some lingering doubt for him in the pit of your chest.

With that, you finally respond to Jungkook who's been silently staring at you the entire time, "It's okay."

"I forgot to mention that you look beautiful today."

His words only add on to your already flustered state, the way he treats you makes your head giddy as you can sense your heart violently thumping against your chest.

"Thank you," is the only response you can muster up.

He doesn't fail to notice your behavior, chuckling softly for he's pleased that his presence alone still has its effect on you.

"Were you supposed to go out with someone?" he assumes.

A bitter pang hits you at the thought of his question. You scrunch up your face in disappointment before whining. "How did you know?"

He shrugs. "I doubt you wouldn't have a reason to go out looking so pretty like that."

You grumble, although his praises do soothe your mood. You huff, "I had to wait for almost an hour for him only to receive a call saying that he's sick." You pause for a moment before continuing. "He didn't even sound sick when he called!"

Jungkook frowns after finally finding out the reason behind your apparent stress earlier. He couldn't exactly place why you were moping around in the open, but once you confirmed his speculations, something in him snapped.

"Did you like him?" he inquires.

Your ears perk up from his precipitance. You answer him nevertheless, "Well, I did initially plan on asking him out, so I guess so." You shrug.

With that, his eyes darken at your statement, nodding quietly before humming. "I see."

Everything falls silent from then on. The atmosphere between you turned awkward faster than you expected. You nervously sip from your cup although your latte has long been finished, merely finding an excuse to avoid the fierce glare Jungkook is sending your way.

A minute of silence with him is the equivalent of a decade for you. If his staring wasn't enough to already have you squirming around in your seat, then it's the unwanted question you've been dreading to hear from him.

"Why did you just leave after last night?"

And that's where you begin to lose it.

Deep down, you're terribly intimidated at how Jungkook managed to quickly switch up the ambience, but the last thing you wanted was for him to see you waver. You speak, attempting your best to seem unruffled to his eyes.

"I thought last night was only supposed to be a one night stand between us."

All that Jungkook responded with was a heavy sigh, sinking himself further in his seat as he rubs his temple from the pent-up frustration.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you that I had to throw my phone away because I was so mad, ___..." he hisses, "I was so mad that I didn't get your number in time and possibly get to know you better."

You freeze in your spot after hearing his words, shock is written all over your face when you find out what Jungkook has been up to for the past few months you ghosted him, but you don't speak of anything in return, intending to hear the entirety of his story before you make any comments.

At your silence, he took it as a sign to continue rambling. "You wouldn't get out of my head after that night, ___. Day and night, all I can remember is you and your pretty little face," he chuckles bitterly, "I even tried looking your name up but I couldn't find you."

Your eyes lock with his. "I fucking missed you, angel..."

Shock remains all over your body. However, the bubbling doubt in your chest along with the trust issues spurring in your brain are coming into play. You feel like your entire system is crashing down from his mere words and it's definitely messing with you.

"I don't believe you," you protest.

Jungkook smirks mischievously from your response before casually spreading his legs wider on the plush seat. He carefully observes your reactions, and he knows you can't resist him starting at this point.

"Oh trust me, sweetheart. If I still had my phone, I'd call every girl I know and tell them goodbye."

The old pet name he calls you tugs at the strings in your heart, his choice of words having you completely melt right in front of him then and there. He smiles in triumph, acknowledging that you've gone all putty in his hands.

"Believe me when I say that you're the only one I've been thinking about, sweetheart," he sneers, "because I still remember that night when I was splitting you in half with my cock."

You almost cough out loud from his crude statement, his lewdness certainly passing some heat down your core which inevitably causes you to uncomfortably rub your thighs together to relieve the tingling sensation that's fluttering within you.

He immediately sees you squirming underneath the table, his grin growing into that of a Cheshire cat from the tension circulating between you.

How in the world did you get here?

You keep writhing in your seat, all the while trying your best to remain discreet from the public. If someone ever hears the nasty phrases Jungkook is mouthing at you, you're absolutely done for.

Of course, Jungkook chooses to be a menace rather than keeping himself shut to save at least a portion of your dignity. But no, vulgar words fall from those cunning lips like a train, intending to have you soaking your underwear to the brim.

"I bet you always think about how good I made you cum with just my tongue, angel," he snickers, voice turning an octave lower before exhaling deeply. "Your pussy probably tastes sweeter than last time, yeah?"

Just a few filthy words from him are enough to have your center yearning for him to touch you, feel you. You squeeze your thighs more, your arousal becoming unbearable to the point where you resort on slowly grinding yourself against the chair for the sake of relieving the aching sensation between your legs.

Jungkook silently watches you in amusement, fiddling with the cold metal of his lip piercing before darting his tongue out to slowly swipe on his bottom lip

"You have no clue how fucking crazy I am for you, ___," he lowly whispers, "I'll make sure to fuck you better than last time so you won't leave me again."

And that single phrase eventually does it for you. You quickly bury your head against the table in an attempt to cover up the muffled whimper that escapes your quivering lips. However, your minimal efforts are put in vain when you see a few customers spinning their heads toward you. A dark blush creeps its way onto your face after knowing that you've caught some attention to yourself, and his eyes stay on you like a hawk, the mortifying situation you've placed yourself in certainly providing him an excellent source of entertainment.

The more you try to get off on your own, the tighter Jungkook's pants become. His cock straining uncomfortably against his boxers eventually made him have enough of the smutty show you're putting on for him. With that, he hastily jumps from his seat and yanks your hand along with him. "Let's go," he firmly says, taking long strides out of the café before his bulge can even appear more prominent for others.

It doesn't take long for the two of you to arrive in his car. He swiftly unlocks it as he makes a beeline towards the backseat with you being dragged right behind him. You yelp in surprise when he pushes you inside with no thought, immediately hovering above you to seal your mouths together in what seems like the hungriest kiss you had in your life. He kisses you like a man deprived for decades: greedy, rough, never-ending.

You moan from the way his calloused hands would explore every inch of your body as if he's trying to imprint the image of you in his brain until it leaves a scar on him for eternity.

He pulls himself deeper when your lips part open, slithering his tongue inside your mouth which causes him to hum in delight. He doesn't think of pulling away from you once, though the need to breathe is slowly becoming a struggle for him. If there's anything Jungkook intends right now, it's to savor every moment with you before he reaches his high.

However, it doesn't take long for him to free himself from you, panting wildly as the two of you try to chase your breaths from your intense make-out, lips swollen, and your makeup partially ruined.

He stares at you with full-blown eyes, and you can definitely say the same for yourself. You drink in each other's beauty for what seems like forever, memorizing each perfection and flaw on one's face before you're locking eyes with him once again.

He completely breaks away from you, maneuvering himself to the driver's seat to start up the engine. You sit up in confusion, staring at him through the rear-view mirror, and you see his reflection sending you a smug smile.

"Let's go home, sweetheart," he murmurs, "'M gonna fuck and love you the entire day..."

You shiver at the thought of going home with Jungkook out of all people, but what sends goosebumps rising all over your skin is the fact that everything that has happened up until now was serendipitous. Your day has taken a detour to where you're met with someone you want to deny from your existence.

However, you can't help but let your body need him as much as he needs you.

The two of you struggle to navigate yourselves toward his bedroom, sloppily kissing each other within the long corridors of his penthouse for several minutes before you feel yourself being pushed against the soft material of his mattress. He swiftly discards his dress shirt, finally displaying the well-sculpted figure that's hidden behind the layer of fabric. A myriad of intricate patterns of his full-sleeve tattoo, the burly muscles around his arms, his slim waist—everything about him snatches your breath away in one second. You've already seen Jungkook's body once, but seeing the heavenly figure standing above you in all his glory makes it feel like your first time again. To your dismay, however, your silent worshipping is ephemeral when Jungkook impatiently hovers over your body, hands slithering to your back to unzip your dress off.

You sit up, pulling the straps off your shoulders until your outfit softly thuds against the hard floor. Jungkook quietly groans when your breasts immediately appear upon taking off your dress, a large hand cupping one of them on first instinct.

"Fuck, you weren't wearing a bra?" He husks, toying with your hardening bud with his thumb. You moan breathily as your eyes turn heavy, already feeling sensitive from his bare touch. "The dress already had pads in it," you whimper

Jungkook paid no heed to your response, however, diving himself down the crevices of your neck where your skin gains contact with his lips. You sigh from complete bliss, sensing every lick, suck, and bite he places on your bruised neck. He scatters evidence of himself from your jaw to your chest, a range of light to dark hickeys covering your once clean skin.

"Mine," he murmurs as his hands explore every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. With each dart of his tongue on one particular spot you love, the more your underwear dampened, and oh — was he extremely pleased when his fingers brushed against your panty-clad center.

"God, you're so wet, sweetheart..." he hums, your arousal feeding onto his growing ego as well as his erection. He draws slow, tantalizing circles around your clit, eliciting a small whimper from you. "Tell me, sweetheart. Who made you this wet, huh?"

"Y-You did," you moan, impatiently bucking your hips against his hand to add more pressure on your nub. He notices your behavior, thus pressing his digits harder agin your center, letting a yelp fall past your lips.

He leans down next to your ear where you can hear him breathing heavily, placing a soft kiss on your temple: a stark contrast to the way his fingers are roughly handling your cunt. "Say my name, angel. Wanna hear how good I'm making you feel."

The hot whisper he sends directly into your ear is enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You obey him, unable to resist the rapture he's giving you.

"Jungkook," you cry out, and that absolutely does it for Jungkook. The way your voice is filled with vulnerability merely adds on to his urge of ruining you in a multitude of ways he can think of.

Sitting up, he completely retracts his fingers from your sopping panties. You whine from the loss of his warmth, but your excitement instantly returns when he briskly peels them off your legs, now being completely exposed to him.

He grips the back of your thighs, spreading you open. You can practically see him lusting to devour your nether regions by then, but you stop him.

"W-Wait." Your hands fly down to his soft locks just for the sake of not having him face-plant himself on your center right away. He looks up at you with a concerned look, his demeanor doing a 180° flip when he sees you hesitating.

"Why? What's wrong, ___?"

Your heart almost jumps out when he softly addresses your name, showing you that he genuinely cares for your well-being. As much as you want to have Jungkook lap on your heat like it's his last feast, there's always been one asset of his that your starving pussy has been craving for.

"Wanna grind on your abs."

The request is almost inaudible, but he fully registers it. He stares deeply into your irises that you swear you could see his eyes turning a shade darker than before. He inhales slowly, finally pulling away from your parted legs to lay on his back as you gladly straddle him, your dripping cunt directly above his chiseled abdomen. He firmly holds your hips, gently guiding you down until the gap between your center and his skin is non-existent.

And oh, did the sensation hit differently.

You can feel every dip, curve, and ridge of his beautifully sculpted muscles upon contact, causing you to spill your essence upon Jungkook's honeydew skin.

He prompts you to move by grinding your hips back and forth. You didn't hold back the wanton noises escaping you, letting him appreciate your euphoric state as you shamelessly grind down on his perfect body.

You can see from the way he's hissing that he's clearly enjoying it as well, his gaze being solely trained on your heat leaving a trail of your arousal on his abs, biting his lip tightly as he goads you to pick up your pace.

Every time your sensitive clit nudges the hard pec of his abs, every time you feel Jungkook slyly flexing his muscles beneath you, and every time he further sinks your hips down to feel him better has you reeling for him. Everything about the man below you is driving you to the edge of being definitely crazy for him, your brain gradually fogging up to a cloudy state of lust.

"Such a slutty little pussy I have here..." he moans, sliding a tattooed hand up your body to fondle with your breasts. He plays with your erect buds, pinching and twisting them to how he pleases as his other hand never stopped its job from egging you to your upcoming orgasm. "So wet... it's all for me, yeah?"

You hastily bob your head up and down, for you're at a complete loss of words when you sense the bubbling knot in your stomach about to break loose any moment.

Jungkook finds no satisfaction in your response, though. He abruptly slaps your mounds to regain your attention. You gasp loudly from the painful impact, but your body seems to say otherwise when your pussy leaks more of your sticky essence onto his abs. "Words, baby. I can't hear you."

"Yes! Yes, 's all for you..!" you slur, having lost the ability to speak a single coherent word at this point. The only word you want to chant is Jungkook's name like a broken record.

And you're merely humping his abs like a pathetic animal in heat.

"Good girl," he purrs, placing his thumb on the top of your clit to rub figures of eights. You're sent into a frenzy from the subtle action, your orgasm reaching closer to its bay with each second passing.

"C-Cumming," you sob, your thighs twitching violently as your pace begins to falter, using what little energy you have left to bring you to the finish line of your climax.

"Yeah? Gonna be my good slut and cum all over my abs?"

His profane words aid your impending orgasm. Your voice becoming high-pitched, your chest rapidly heaving up and down as you hear the lewd squelching noises your cunt makes.

You reach a point where your entire body is stuttering, obscene noises continuously spilling from your lips like a waterfall. The hard ridges of Jungkook's abs are certainly bringing you to an intense high, but what ends you is his sweet voice putting you in a daze with his words.

Jungkook chuckles darkly with each sensitive reaction your body makes, "Go on and make a mess all over me, sweetheart."

And you did. Your mouth hangs wide open, but nothing is uttered from you. Your juices gush out from your center, flowing to your inner thighs and onto his abdomen. Your walls clench around thin air as you slowly ride out your high. Your small whimpers eventually come to a halt, and nothing can be heard in the room aside from the squelch of your cunt and your heavy panting.

He gently raises your hips up, eyes glazing over the sticky mess you've just created on his abdomen. Two fingers dip down to wipe away your essence from his skin, and before you know it, his fingers are right in front of your lips.

"Open." You did as told, welcoming your taste within your mouth. You greedily swirl your tongue around as you would with his cock, cleaning up what little mess that's left on him.

He pulls out with a string of saliva connecting him to your lips, groaning quietly after seeing his glistening digits.

"Fuck," he breathes out, "I have to taste you, sweetheart." He swiftly manhandles your frail body, hovering himself over you again as he parts your thighs. He eyes you like a man starved for days, and you're his prey that was caught in his trap.

Without warning, he licks a fat stripe of his tongue on your sensitive folds, earning a shriek from you. He moans against your sopping center, the vibrations making your entire body fall limp as you give up from prying his head away. Noting your weak state, Jungkook forms a sinister smile and proceeds to ruin you with his tongue, determined to put you on the brink of another orgasm.

"You taste so fucking good," he whines, his mouth loudly slurping up all of your leaking juices. "You gonna be a good girl and cum for me again?"

"Ngh... s-sensitive," you groan from the overstimulation, thighs threatening to close around Jungkook's head, but he holds you in place. He sucks on your clit like a madman, your legs quivering profusely as you feel yourself rapidly approaching another climax.

You don't realize the tears that are dribbling down your cheeks, your senses going into overdrive from the overwhelming bliss. It only takes one last suckle from Jungkook's lips to have you breaking down again. You see stars in your vision when your high crashes down on you like a tidal wave, your essence surging out your throbbing folds as he successfully catches everything on his tongue, leaving no traces of your orgasm behind. Your hands grip his hair, using the remaining energy in you to push him away. Thankfully, he complies, sitting on his knees to appreciate the mess he's created. Your hair has turned into a bird's nest, your makeup smothered all over your face, and your pussy is glistening from your slick all because of him.

Jungkook whines, the tent in his pants growing painfully unbearable. "Need to be inside you right now," he mutters before manhandling you on all fours. You shudder upon facing the mirror in front of you, finally witnessing for the first time how much Jungkook has destroyed you, and he's yet to sink his throbbing cock inside you.

Hearing a soft thud on the floor, you gasp softly when you feel his leaking tip poking your entrance. He bends down until your back meets his chest. His eyes lock with yours through the mirror, placing a soft kiss on your temple before ghosting his lips over your ear. "Eyes on the mirror when I fuck you, sweetheart," he whispers without ever breaking the intimidating gaze he has on you.

With that, he slowly enters you, your warm walls fluttering around his thick girth as you let out a long moan from his intrusion.

He hasn't even completely bottomed out, and your eyes are already giving in on the verge of closing themselves. He spots you from the large mirror, causing him to bundle the roots of your hair to force your head up. "Keep your eyes on the fucking mirror, baby," he groans, "watch me fuck you."

You finally feel him bottom out, mewling wantonly when his tip nudges your sweet spot. The burning sensation of your walls accommodating his girth brings tears in your eyes, for you sense every vein and inch of him rubbing against your warm folds.

Groaning, he slowly draws his length out until the mere tip remains inside you. The wind from your lungs is quickly knocked off when he roughly slams back in, pulling another gasp from your lips.

The thought of you taking Jungkook raw drives him insane. Feeling your tight walls squeeze his cock bare is something akin to heaven, and he can't help but let all hell break loose on you.

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, for he's already setting a ruthless pace on you. Your knuckles turn white from how you tightly claw the sheets beneath you, and for every second you watch Jungkook, the more your cunt becomes greedier for him.

The way his muscles flex with each languid thrust of his hips has you unconsciously clenching around his cock, a series of lewd noises tumbling out your mouth as if you're a broken toy.

If anything, you're his toy.

"Pussy so fucking good," he moans, landing a hard spank on your ass. "Your slutty little cunt is made for my cock, yeah?"

You roll your eyes from his possessive treatment, the way he filthily talks to you only adds on to your arousal as you nod in affirmation.

He simpers at your reflection, already knowing that you've become dumb on his cock from how you kept unknowingly drooling from the side of your mouth.

"Yeah? My little whore loves taking my cock so much, huh?" He continues, his cock drilling in and out of your leaking hole. "Bet you've never been fucked this good before," he snickers.

"Ngh, Jungkook!" You cry from how hard he's pounding into you, the mixed sensation of pain and pleasure pricking tears from your eyes. If it wasn't for the strong grip he has around the roots of your hair, your upper body would've gone purely limp by now.

It doesn't take long for you to eventually end up like Jungkook intended you to be: a broken mess. Any other rational thought from you had long been thrown out the window, for the only word you know left is his name. You chant his name in a mantra, panting wildly as you whimper louder with each thrust.

Nothing can be more perfect for Jungkook aside from the sight below him. He stares in awe whenever he pulls out to see his cock wrapped around in your slick, and hearing the obscene noises he's drawing from you is a symphony to his ears.

But most importantly, seeing how you react to even the littlest of his touch makes his heart skip a beat.

For Jungkook, you look the most beautiful when you're with him.

"You look so pretty taking my cock, sweetheart," he rasps, voicing out his thoughts. For a second, your eyes lock with his through the mirror, and you can feel your heart pounding wildly the moment you gaze through his dark eyes clouded with lust.

Your body begins to tremble when you feel yourself exploding for the third time. He feels your walls tensing sporadically around his girth, coaxing him to pound you harder—if that was even possible. You see stars in your vision every time his leaking tip kisses your spongy spot as more of your arousal trickles down your thighs.

"Jungkook," you mewl weakly, "'M g-gonna cum..!"

"I know, sweetheart." He licks his lips, making you release a tiny whimper. "You gonna milk all over my cock, hmm? Your pussy's such a fucking whore for me, angel."

The deep laugh that vibrates from his chest is what triggers you to cling onto his cock tightly and coat him in your orgasm. You wail loudly from the intense high, your upper body finally falling down on the bed. Jungkook gasps from how hard you squeezed him. His cock twitches madly inside you, and he hastily pulls out from your drenched hole to put you in another position.

You yelp when he places you on your back, his large hands groping the back of your thighs as he easily slides his cock back inside you.

Your moans quickly become high-pitched, for he gave you no time to recover from your climax. Jungkook watches in awe how you appear oh-so ethereal in his eyes—all weak and vulnerable underneath him.

He grunts with every push of his cock inside you, sensing his high that's about to burst any minute.

Leaning down, Jungkook seals your lips together in another heated kiss, muffling the sinful noises that are falling off your tongue.

It doesn't take long for him to pull away. You feel his forearms sinking down on the mattress as a few strands of his hair dangle against your face. However, despite being unable to completely see him, you can still see his eyes boring holes into your soul.

"And to think you could've gone out with another man," he spits, tone rather harsh before quickening his pace. "Tell me, sweetheart," he pants, "do you think he can fuck you as good as I can?"

You're taken aback by his abrupt question, but you mindlessly respond nonetheless, for your brain has absolutely gone to mush from how good his cock rubs against your velvety walls.

"No! Y-You're better!"

"Yeah? Am I the best fuck you ever had?"

"Yes..! Oh my fucking god!"

"Glad you know, angel," he chuckles, his tattooed hand suddenly flying down to rub fast circles on your sore clit, "because there won't be another dick out there that's half as good as mine."

"Jungkook, I can't," you sob, "t-too much..!"

He snarls, "Oh, you will, angel. I know my pretty girl can do it." His thrusts turn inconsistently sloppy as you feel his cock twitching uncontrollably inside your warmth.

"G-Gonna cum," you faintly whimper, your hands frantically ruffle the sheets, for you're at a loss on what to grip.

"Tell me you're mine," Jungkook pants, placing his forehead against yours, increasing the level of intimacy between you.

Your breath hitches from the proximity. You search for his eyes, and they glow a different appearance: desperation. He searches for yours as well, and your heart freezes momentarily from the passion burning in his irises. You sense him approaching the tip of his high, but he doesn't give in just yet. He needs to hear you confirm his words before everything else, refusing to relish the wrack of pleasure until you provide him the answer he yearns for.

"Tell me you're mine first and I'll let you cum," he swiftly says in one breath, grasping his fingers underneath your chin to graze his lips against yours. You become tongue-tied for a moment, your emotions being tangled up into a messy ball.

But the way he whimpers, oh, so weakly against you has your knees buckling; along with the way his cock is ramming up your cervix creates a cluster of hysteria blocking your rationale.

The only thing you're begging for at the moment is that sweet orgasm Jungkook is about to serve you. Thus, it's no doubt that you'd do anything he says for you for the sake of your breaking point.

You breathe heavily against his lips, your eyes closing in on the tremendous euphoria. "I'm yours."

"One more, baby. I wanna hear you."

"Fuck!" You whimper, his cock showing no signs of remorse on your sensitive g-spot. "I'm yours! Only yours!"

"Atta, girl..." he croons at you, snaking a hand around your neck to restrict the air flowing in your lungs. "This is my pussy, yeah? You're my slut. My good, pretty little whore, hmm? You're mine, sweetheart. I fucking love everything about you that I wanna keep you forever — shit..!"

His speech falters, a high-pitched whine falling off those pretty lips as he hastily pulls out of your throbbing cunt, stroking himself languidly before he releases his load all over your body. Spurts of white cover your abdomen to your leaking cunt. He lets out a guttural groan from the intense orgasm, milking out the last of his remains before collapsing next to you, utterly spent and exhausted. His tattooed arm reaches for the bedside table, pulling on one of the drawers to grab a towelette.

Jungkook props himself up on one elbow as he gently pats down the areas that are covered with his sticky essence. "You did so well for me, sweetheart," he chuckles breathily while cleaning you up.

You, on the other hand, are at a loss for words. Perhaps it's because your voice became worn out from the numerous orgasms he pulled out of you.

Or was it because of the dangerous attachment Jungkook was showing for you?

Whatever it was, you decided to remain silent the entire time, listening in on yours and Jungkook's tranquil breathing combined, chests rising and falling in perfect synchronization as you appreciate the afterglow of a temporary escapade.

Once he's done cleaning you up, he throws the filthy cloth into a nearby bin and pulls the covers over your bare bodies. "Uhm, ___...." he's also the first one to break the silence, looking at you hesitantly while nibbling on his piercing.

You turn your head to him curiously, which is enough for him to know that he has your attention again.

He sighs softly before continuing. "Listen... ever since last time, I really couldn't stop thinking about you. The fact that you left without a word seriously drove me crazy, and all I wanted to do was to have you in my arms again."

Quirking an eyebrow, you gaze at him with widened eyes. You're about to part your lips to say something in response, but he quickly cuts you off.

"I wasn't myself for the past few months, and I know that it was extremely stupid, but I couldn't help it, ___. I genuinely like you. Even if we only encountered each other for a short time, I really wish to ask you out. You don't know how happy I was when I saw you earlier today. I sincerely want to get to know you better, ___, and perhaps take you out more often..."

His confession alone is enough to have your thoughts turn into a messy, tangled ball of threads. Your throat dries as you stare at him with a baffled appearance. Hesitantly, you slowly nod your head at him, unsure of how to process everything at the moment.

However, Jungkook can read you like an open book. He isn't anywhere convinced of your slow response, rather demanding an affirmative answer from your mouth.

"Words, sweetheart. I need words."

Sadness looms in your eyes because of what seems like sincerity in his. If you're honestly speaking, there's nothing stopping you from giving the fine man in front of you a chance and letting him treat you like the queen you are, laying out a red carpet on the ground you walk on as he gives you ecstasy from morning to midnight.

Oh, how unfortunate that your thoughts didn't correlate with your words.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook," you mumble quietly, "I don't think I want to."

Jungkook's expression falls from your answer. "What..?"

You purse your lips nervously. You chose to reject him, but why are you feeling different?

"Is it because I'm always out with other people?" he asks, a frown forming on his lips. "The last person I've been with was you, ___. I told you I wasn't myself after last night between us. You were all that was running through my mind from then until now." You can see the desperate look in his eyes pleading for your approval, but all that comes from you is a shaky sigh as you look away from him.

"I'm sorry. We really can't."

"___, think about it," he frantically says, eyes following you when you abruptly sit up to search for your clothes.

"That's my answer, Jungkook," you reply as you hastily put on each piece of clothing one by one. "I reject your offer."

Before he can utter another word, you quickly fix your appearance as if nothing has ever happened between the two of you.

"___, wait." Jungkook chases for your arm, reaching out to grab it, but you're like water: always running away, never able to touch. You make a beeline towards the exit of his bedroom without ever turning back. You're as scared to leave as much as you are to be with him. You still choose the former, though, storming out the door without another word. Because you're a coward, unable to live on that fast lane with Jungkook.

He lays there defeated, clueless on how to get over the flame you lit up in his heart.

In the end, you left Jungkook smoking out the window as a bitter reminder of your rejection, wondering to himself on how you could do this to him.

After last night, you were the match who lit Jungkook on fire. After this night, you were the wind that blew his burning heart away into ashes.

[forever-rogue]

Heya so I’ve been watching the new Mandalorian and loving Din and such but I was gonna ask if I can make a request. What about Reader getting jealous of Din and Bo’s relationship growing as friends (because fyi I see Bo liking woman idk? My opinion hahahah) anyways and also how Bo is becoming like more motherly to Grogu and Reader feels like Din can replace her so she decides to just move out of the way and then maybe Din finds out why she is being like this and it ends with comforting loving and reassuring smut? Idk up to you. I love love love your stories. You are my favorite writer

AN | Ohh but no, this was a good one. Enjoy🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to hide the scowl on your face as you looked over at the two Mandalorians speaking to each other, clearly in deep conversation. Apparently you weren’t doing a great job because you felt a gentle tugging on the bottom of your pants. You looked down to find Grogu  looking up at you with big eyes filled with concern and his ears downturned. He trilled softly and you let out a small sigh. 

You crouched down so you were closer to his level and lightly scratched the top of his head, “what’s wrong, my small love?”

He let out a small huff of frustration, letting you know that he knew you knew exactly what this was about. Your expression shifted to sheepishly as you shrugged lightly, “it’s nothing, I promise. I’m just being silly.”

Grogu reached out a small hand out and tried to touch your face as best as he could. He really was the sweetest thing being you had ever met and he definitely helped you to forget what you had been annoyed about in the first place. 

That was until several long shadows fell over you and you looked up to find Din and Bo-Katan standing over the two of you. You pulled back from Grogu and almost instantly jumped up, shrinking away from the imposing warriors. 

“Is everything alright?” Bo always managed to be so calm and calculating that it served to unnerve you. You were sure that it wasn’t anything intentional, just how she was, but it still sent a shiver down your spine. There was something incredibly intimidating about her. 

“Y-yes,” you nodded lightly, swallowing back all the reasons things were definitely not alright. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Din; you could feel his gaze intently trained on you, “of course.”

“Are you s-”

“We should head into town,” Bo cut Din off, whether or not intentionally you weren’t sure, and jerked her head in the direction of the nearby city center, “and settle down for the night. We might be here for a few days. Come on, kid.”

Bo gently scooped Grogu into his arms, holding him in a gentle manner that allowed him to see everything that was going on. He seemed happy to be held and you couldn't help the fact that that made your heart ache slightly. 

He really loved her and she was clearly fond of him. You took your disappointment and compartmentalized it, shoving it to the very back of your mind. Everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Right? Right.

The fact that Din followed you closely and kept trying to say something to you wasn't lost on you. You did your best to try and ignore the feeling of nervous butterflies in your stomach. You knew he wouldn’t let things go that easily, so the best you could do was avoid him.

But Din Djarin had other ideas.

That night, once you were all settled into your rooms at the city center’s hotel, you heard a knock at your door. The three of you had all separate rooms, taking advantage of the opportunity to get some space. You closed your eyes for a moment before sighing softly and walking to the door; you opened it after a few beats of hesitation. 

You found Din on the other side, alone for once, and a definite air to him. You could practically feel the expression under the helmet; luckily for you, you’d been privy to getting a glimpse of his face so you could picture it accurately. 

“Din,” you said quietly, acknowledging his presence with a small nod, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” and oh. Did his voice have to drop that low and soft? It made you want to run and jump into his arms, “if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” you stepped to the side and let him, slowly closing the door behind you, leaning against it as you watched him go to the window and look out. It was silent between the two of you for a few moments, and you could feel the tension radiating off him, “what did you need?”

You heard him sigh, and the familiar sound tugged up the corner of your mouth into a small smile. He turned back to you, his hands settling on his hips; he was trying to search for the right words and felt like he was falling short, “you’re off…lately.”

“I’m off?” you echoed, “what do you mean? Wait - are you getting rid of me-”

“No,” a firm, resolute answer. He swallowed thickly, “you. You’ve been acting differently lately. Something is bothering you.”

Of course he was right on the money. But you didn’t want me to know that - at least not yet. You tried to plaster on the most natural smile you could, but you were sure it was more of a grimace than anything, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Din. Everything’s fine - we’ve just been busy and I-I’m just tired.”

“I know there’s more that you’re not telling me,” he didn’t say it accusingly - if anything his voice was soft. He was trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve been putting yourself in, “I…I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” and you did. Your heart constricted as he sat down next to you, his gloved hand brushing against yours, “and if there was anything to tell - I would tell you. Promise.”

Okay, so you were a liar. A dirty, kriffin’ liar.

“But you’re not right now,” again, it wasn’t even a question. It was a statement. You hesitated for a moment before shrugging lightly, “whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

“Din,” you angled your body ever so slightly so you were facing him, “if there was anything to tell, I would tell you. I swear it.”

He paused for a long moment and you were seriously wondering what he was about to say. It could have been anything; he was a hard read sometimes. But then he stood up and in front of you, putting his hand under your chin and turning your face up to his. The Mandalorian remained quiet and stoic before brushing his knuckles across your cheek. The tenderness of the action was enough to make your eyes burn before they fluttered closed. 

After a few moments he gave you a simple nod before heading out of your room and quietly closing the door behind him.

You felt a sense of conflicted emotion wash over you; from how gentle and tender he was, you’d almost think he had some sort of deep rooted feelings for you as well. Then your mind instantly went to Bo and Din, how the two of them were together, and how Grogu loved them both. It made sense, of course, that the Mandalorians would find comfort in each other and form a deep, close bond. It also made sense that it broke your lovesick little heart.

Your shoulders slumped as you stared out the window, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. You could have just told him then and there. It would have been so easy to do so…and then, if nothing else, everything would be out in the open. Instead you’d chosen the easy way out and lied to him.

At least things couldn’t get any worse, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wrong. 

By the time you were up and dressed the following morning, you found that Din and Bo-Katan were already out and about with Grogu in tow. You grew upset when you realized that they didn’t bother to check in with you before leaving the hotel. You watched across the square for a little bit, watching the three of them interacting happily. Your heart practically fell into your chest when you realized just how much of a little family they appeared to be. 

Along with the hurt came the jealousy and that was a feeling you absolutely hated. There was no reason for it - but your heart felt differently. A part of you, and you hated even admitting this to yourself, hated how well they got along. It would have been easier if they disliked each other or didn’t have just chemistry or…anything. 

But Din had never been yours and would never be yours; it was a fact that you were going to have to accept and live with. 

You turned on your heel and started to walk back, deciding to wait for them to come back and find you.Childish? Maybe. But right now you didn’t care. 

It was halfway back on your trek that you had a sudden realization.

You didn’t have to stay with Din. You weren’t under any sort of obligation to stay with him. In the beginning you’d just sort of fallen into work with him. And you hadn’t really ever hashed out any sort of deal. Which meant…you could just leave whenever. 

It was just an idea…but when you got back to your room, it became more and more tempting. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the end of the day, you’d made a plan. Perhaps more of a semblance of a plan but it was something. 

You found Din and Grogu walking through some of the market stalls, the small one’s eyes lighting up happily with each little thing that he saw. The idea of being away from both of them was heartbreaking; you loved them both terribly.

“Hey,” you caught up to Din and started walking next to him, happy that for once Bo-Katan seemed to be absent. You felt him looking down at you as Grogu chirped happily, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you just knew that he was raising an eyebrow at you but then his voice dropped to something gentle, “tell me.”

“I’ve been thinking,” you were wringing your hands nervously, aware of every little tell that you had, “a-about everything. And I think I’ve decided that I, ugh, I umm…I’m going to stay here.”

“What?!” he stopped so suddenly that you almost tripped over him. You shrugged sheepishly before looking away, “what are you talking about?”

“Just what I said,” you played it off, “I’m going to stay here for a while.”

“But we’re leaving in a few days-”

“You. You are leaving in a few days,” you replied softly, “you, Grogu, and…Bo-Katan. I’ll be staying here.”

“I don’t know how long we’d even be gone before I can come back for-”

“You’re not coming back for me, Din,” you whispered, stealing a little glance at him, “I don’t think you’re understanding…I am staying behind and you are going on. W-without me.”

“What do you mean?” now he just sounded concerned and confused and that broke your heart a little bit, “why would you not come?”

"Because I'm not…" you choked back the emotion that was welling up in your throat, "I'm not going with anymore period. I think it's time that we go our separate ways."

"Separate ways," he echoed as you nodded lightly, "why? What happened? I thought that-"

"You don't need me," you stopped and turned around so you were fully facing him, "you don't need me for anything you have left to do. You and Bo will be just fine together. You're Mandalorians after all. I'm just…me."

"That's not true," he insisted meekly as you stared at your feet, "we do need you."

"For what?" you blinked back the tears as you caught the sad little look on Grogu's face, "you don't need my help with him anymore. I'm not…necessary."

"None of what you just said-"

"It's not, I'm not - this isn't something that is up for debate," and yeah, it crushed your heart go say that to him, "I've gotta go my own way now."

You didn't - and couldn't - let him get another word in or you knew you'd be right back to where you had been. You didn't want to leave them and Din could see that, he knew that and he didn't want you to go. That had to count for something, right?

Even the slight bit of hope his words gave your heart wasn't enough to get you to turn around. Your decision was made.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din wasn't as convinced that you were set in your way. He wasn't going to just let you get away that easily. You should have realized that by now. 

As you were packing your stuff to leave and figure out a more permanent situation, Din knocked once before letting him. He didn't even give you the opportunity to welcome him in - there wasn't time.

"Don't go."

Your hands dropped the shirt you were holding as you looked at him in shock. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to figure out where to begin to respond to that, "p-pardon?"

"Don't go," he repeated, taking a few steps closer to you, "stay. With me and Grogu."

"And Bo."

"No," he shook his head. He was a smart man after all and he'd managed to put the pieces together. And come to terms with his own feelings, "this isn't about her."

"Well it involves her," you sighed, scrubbing a hand over your tired face, "you and her and Grogu and your little save the Mandalorians and Mandalore mission. It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Cyar'ika-"

"Besides," you turned your back to him and crossed your arms over your chest, "you seem to be doing just fine with her."

"She's a fellow Mandalorian," he came over to where you could almost feel him behind you, "we are stronger together. That is all. She is not…I do not have any feelings for her besides any that are extremely platonic."

"You might want to tell her that."

"She's well aware," he promised and you felt the tension in your shoulders lessen at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder, "it is not me she has an eye on. She knows that you are…mine."

"What?" You turned around and looked at him with wide eyes and a confused expression. He was watching you intently, "Din?"

"You are mine," he repeated as your expression shifted to one of wonder, "as I am yours."

"You…" you vaguely gestured between your bodies, mind reeling as you tried to process what he actually meant, "me?"

"Yes," there was a bit of amusement coloring his voice; he was calm while you were panicking, "I thought you knew."

"No," you managed to choke out, "I-I didn't. I just thought you…thought of me as a partner. Business partner."

"Not just that," he reached over and gently pushed your hair behind your ears, "far from that."

"What about Grogu? He clearly loves her-"

"You are jealous," your entire body burned at his accusation and you swallowed thickly. Why did he have to be so damn perceptive? You couldn't even find it within yourself to lie and deny it.

"Yes," you looked into the black T of his visor, meeting his eyes behind the helmet, "I am."

"There is no reason to be jealous," he promised, "there is only you for me. And for Grogu. Once our business is concluded, it will just be us."

"Promise?" That is everything you had been craving and wanting so desperately, "Din?"

"I promise," he answered softly and you could feel it in your bones that he wasn't lying, "it won't be much longer."

"Okay."

"You'll stay?" He pulled off his clothes and tossed them to the side before gently taking your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek. You couldn't help but preen into his touch.

"Yes," you whispered softly, "I'll stay."

He made a small sound in the back of his throat before pulling back and walking towards the door. You were confused for a few moments until he switched the lights off, bathing the room in darkness except for the city lights that flowed in through the curtains.

"Do you trust me?" He was looking right at you and you were looking right back. But there was no hesitation in your response - you both already knew the answer.

"Yes," you promised, "I trust you."

He made a small sound before lifting his hands and slowly removing his helmet. Despite the fact that you had seen his face before, the gesture still spoke volumes. You watched as he rid himself of his gloves, followed by his armor and outer clothing. 

When he was done, he made his way back over to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies. 

You couldn't see the details of his face but studied his handsome silhouette. After a moment he reached up and took your face in his hands. You turned your face and leaned into his touch, sighing wistfully.

"You mean more to me than I could ever put into words," he whispered so quietly that you almost didn't hear, "I'm sorry you ever had to doubt that."

"It's okay," you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies exploding in your tummy as you looked at him with a small smile.

"Once this is all over…" he paused for a moment, as he trailed his fingers along your jaw, "I promise things will be different."

"And they don't have to be different," you insisted, "I just….I just want you."

"You have me," it was a firm, resolute statement, "all of me."

He leaned his face down towards yours, his nose gently nudging yours. You leaned up ever so slightly and met his lips, letting him gently kiss. Finally. After so much time, so much dreaming and wishing and wanting, you finally got to kiss Din Djarin. You’d always wondered what it would be like and now you knew - it was just like magic and tasted even sweeter.

His movements were tentative at first, gentle and testing the waters. When you responded so positively and eagerly to him, he relaxed and grew more confident. You rested your hands on his forearms before gently pulling back. A small, wistful sound escaped your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“You have me too, Din,” you promised in return and you could see his shoulders relax even in the darkness.

“You’ll stay?”

“Of course,” you stole a quick kiss from him, “I thought that would have been clear now.”

“It was,” he nodded, smiling against your lips, “but I just wanted to be positive.”

“Let me show you how positive I am,” you whispered, feeling bold and electric, “if you’d like me to.”

“Yes,” he agreed, both of you laughing softly, “yes.”

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x reader | fluff, a little bit domestic, a little bit intimate, a little bit suggestive? (not really) | cw: cursing, a very modest bath scene

-teaching bakugou to 'take'-

Thinking about the newly domestic give and take between you and Katsuki. It doesn't come naturally to him. He's hell bent on doing everything himself, at first. That's the way he's always lived after all - hyper self-sufficient, independent to a fault, and so goddamn stubborn about it all.

It makes you feel almost useless, his insistence on doing everything, not only for himself but for you as well. Honestly, you should have expected it; he was like that well before moving in together. Taking all the responsibilities on himself, wrangling you out of the way when you so much as try to help, because he "feels like it", or he's "better at it", or "just move, f'r I make ya".

But you were a guest in his house, then - so you let him have his way, bullheaded as it was. Now that you share a house - a home - you want nothing more than to take care of it, -him.

Though moving mountains would be easier than convincing him to accept it.

You try brute force, first. And it goes as well as you might expect, like throwing pebbles at a brick wall. Putting yourself between him and the dishes is just as futile; he cooked dinner, you should be the one to do this. It's only fair. Still, he takes it upon himself to pick you up and physically remove you from 'his' spot by the sink, ugly yellow gloves dripping dishwater all the way to the counter.

The floor is completely soaked by the time he plops you down on the countertop, as are your jeans, your flailing arms and exasperated "Katsuki!" having done little to deter him. Your mouth opens in protest but his hands, firm at your sides and eyes, red, and stern and definite leave no room for discussion.

So you try to 'talk about it', second. When his mood has cooled and he's feeling a little sweet. He usually is, when hero work has worn him down, chipped away at his fire until there's nothing left but his worn down bones and the aching desire to be enveloped in you - his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair.

He's nothing but mush in your arms by the time you bring it up, nearly two hundred pounds of limp muscle, eyes half lidded, and slow, warm breath. You think he doesn't hear you at first, more likely he pretends not to; but then you hear a half-hearted, "hmph". And you sigh.

"I'm serious, Kats." you rake your fingers across his scalp absently and he groans in appreciation, furling into you more. "You can't do everything, just look at you."

He peers up at you with one eye, an almost glare, more playful than anything; too tired for anything more. He huffs gently, warm breath across your chest when you don't back down. "We'll talk about it later."

'Later'; meaning never. Still, you don't press him. Not when he's so tired, not when this small moment of peace is all he allows you to offer him.

Ever predictable; there isn't a later, and he finds a way to avoid the conversation, in one way or another. Over and over and over again. You're at the end of your rope just trying to get him to listen.

Instead, you try a last ditch effort at patience, at compromise (usually a losing battle, with him); working him over, little by little.

And it works, mostly.

You find that, most times, you can slip past him while he's cooking to steal the dirty mixing bowls and discarded pans; wash them while he's preoccupied trying not to burn the chicken or fretting over cutting the vegetables 'just right'. That him doing the cooking is non-negotiable, but he'll let you help as long as you stop trying to kiss him while he's "tryin' to make y'r dinner over here, god damnit".

(Don't let him fool you, he likes it).

That it takes you far too long to realize how much he craves being asked for 'help', instead of your usual insistence on helping him. That when he feels appreciated and useful, he's almost eager to share the housework with you, looking almost boyish standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, the tepid scowl twisting his pretty face betrayed by the blush creeping up the back of his neck when you hum a lilted, "Thank you, Katsuki".

Your strategy's not foolproof, of course; he's still quick to steal whatever you're working on once he's finished his, itching to make himself busy once more.

But it's progress.

Still, no matter how much you try, or how long you pester him, he puts his foot down at taking care of him while he's sick, while he's training or on patrol. Anything that could end with you hurt, or put you in harms way is a hard 'no' - always, always, always.

That's not to say he doesn't let you take care of him ever. Though it was more hassle than it should have been, getting him to just sit comfortable instead of disappearing into the bath for hours, or taking his frustrations out on his poor, battered training equipment.

These days, when he's had an especially tiring evening, he'll sink down into the sofa without you having to say a thing, let you press your fingers into his shoulders and down his spine until the knots unwind. That occasionally he'll let you take him by the hand even, coax him gently into warm water and vanilla scented bubble bath.

That he becomes particularly docile when you're massaging your flowery conditioner into his wily blonde hair. The scent of you - over his waist, around his shoulders, in his hair - it's almost intoxicating, and he wraps his arms around you, like he's desperate for more, burying his face in your chest; sighs like he's at ease for the first time in his life.

It isn't easy, teaching Katsuki to take - but when he lays down with you at night, his eyes are a little brighter, hands hold you a little tighter, a little longer than when all he knew was how to give, give, give. And when his lips find yours, and you can feel his smile against them, you figure all the trouble is worth it.

And when he rolls the both of you over til you're pinned beneath heavy thighs, impish grin on his lips and calloused fingers beneath your shirt, trouble and promise brewing behind his newly fired eyes, well that's just a bonus.

[sweetiecutie]

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

[soobnny]

jealousy, jealousy — nrk.

trope. established relationship. overprotective / jealousy au.

synopsis. nishimura riki is stubborn and hard-headed, yet not even a fight can stop him from making sure no one bothers his girlfriend. who knew jealousy could look so good on riki? (2.1k words)

note. here’s to anon who requested for me to write jealous aus! realized i’ve never actually tried writing it before :0 the song btw has nothing to do w the fic. just stole the title

There’s nothing more unsettling than seeing you trying to talk to Nishimura Riki who is actively making it a point to avoid looking or speaking to you, despite being in the same vehicle.

Especially when you’re saying, gently, “Riki, I’m really sorry.”

Riki couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He was understandably upset, and there was an insistent voice in his head that told him to give you the silent treatment. Your boyfriend had the right to be annoyed – especially when he had spent hours prior in the day waiting for you at your favorite ice cream parlor.

It wasn’t like you had meant to stand him up on your date. You had been called back late by your teacher, and you had forgotten to inform Riki especially when your mind was a sea of responsibilities you had to tend to. And on most days, Riki would understand and forgive you in a heartbeat – even offer to help you with your workload.

He always said it was a stupid reason to be upset with, and it was in hindsight. However, it’s been a really long time since you’d last been on a date together.

With his dance competitions and your constant strive to keep your scholarship, the both of you were understandably busy. Spotting free time on both of your schedules was rare and you took every chance at spending time together when it happened.

Today was one of those days, and the plan was that you’d go on an ice cream date (just the two of you) before going to one of Jay’s famous parties. It didn’t help that Riki was particularly clingy today after having lost a spot in the Top 3 of his recent competition. He just wanted to be with you, to bask in your comfort, and to hold you in his arms as a reminder that there was always next time.

And you had accidentally robbed him of that. So, Nishimura Riki was upset with you.

“Riki–” You begin.

“Don’t.” He cut you off before you could even continue. “I don’t really want to talk to you right now.”

He surprised himself with how cold he spoke to you, guilt instantly settling in, but it was too late to take back his words. Besides, you knew never to take it to heart when Riki was upset. You’d just have to try again tomorrow, when he’d have enough time to calm himself down. So, you simply grow quiet as he pulls up the driveway of your shared friend’s house.

The night air is cold when you step out of the car, and you visibly shrug at the sudden coolness in contrast to the heat you had felt in the silence between you and your boyfriend. It’s only now that Riki allows himself to look at you. His gaze follows the gentle shaking of your shoulders and the clattering of your teeth as you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself.

While he was angry, Riki was not a cruel boyfriend. Shrugging his jacket off, he places it on your shoulders gently, helping you adjust your arms in its sleeves to make sure that in the chill of the night and the air-conditioned party, you would not feel cold.

Before you can thank him, he starts walking for the door.

Poor Sunoo is unaware of the fight when you pull both of you in for a hug, bouncing in conversation and being greeted by an awkward string of responses from the both of you. He only understands the situation when you and Riki walk separate ways upon entering the party.

The music is unbearably loud, and Riki is the first one to go meet up with his friends. You walk the opposite direction in hopes of seeing a friend.

Truthfully, you did not want to be in this party right now. It was only ever fun when you were Riki, popping out an ankle biter or two as you’d make fun of the drunk teenagers around you. Time always stretched in meaningful ways when you were with him, blurred by silly dancing and excusing yourselves to pull pranks on your friends.

“(Name)!” You spot Felix, a good friend of Jake, approaching you with a smile on his face. He gives you a side hug, immediately noticing the lack of your boyfriend by your side. “Where’s Riki?” You return the warm smile at the boy, politely acknowledging him. You don’t really want to tell him you weren’t with Riki because you had a fight, so you settle with a little white lie.

“He’s downstairs. I’m looking for a friend.” Felix nods his head, patting your head before he’s called by Hyunjin. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you around!” With one last tap on the shoulder, Felix heads towards the direction of his friend, leaving you to walk around by yourself again.

You grow more anxious upon not spotting a single close friend in the party after roaming around the house for a good fifteen minutes. Then again, Jay’s space was huge and it’d be impossible to look through every space and crevice in search of a friend.

You had hoped maybe Yuna or Yunjin were around so you could pass time through conversation and gossip. However, fate doesn’t hand you luck tonight.

On the other side of the party, Riki is seated with his friends – Sunghoon and Jake joking around with a beer in hand as they chat about their recent flings, Sunoo off to dance with friends, Heeseung and Jay busying themselves to make sure the partygoers were accommodated with enough food and drinks, and Jungwon who is concerned why his friend is awfully quiet tonight with the absence of your usual figure next to him.

“Where’s (name)?” Jungwon starts.

“We had a fight.” Riki’s response is pointed as he glances at Jungwon before going back to people-watching. It’s like he doesn’t want to say it. Riki hates fighting with you – and while it was normal to occasionally fight in healthy relationships, it didn’t mean Riki hated it any less. However, he was stubborn and hardheaded, and that insistent voice has not left his head.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Jungwon blinks, unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t sure if Riki wanted him to keep pushing at the topic or not. Going for the safe option, Jungwon keeps his mouth shut as he excuses himself to go help Jay and Heeseung.

While heading for the kitchen, Jungwon spots you seated on another couch in the living room, scrolling through your phone. Next to you is Chaewon who looks like she’s in a peaceful slumber despite the loud music and the crowd of people.

When you catch sight of the boy, he waves at you politely before he disappears into the crowd.

You hum to yourself. You suppose you should just leave in a bit after Chaewon wakes up. Besides, it wasn’t really a bother having her lean her head on your shoulder, and you didn’t really want to wake her to leave the party you had just joined.

You’re less fortunate with the man seated on your left.

He had been trying to talk to you the whole time you were looking for a friend (after Felix had left your side), and he had sat down next to you the moment you grew tired.

When Jungwon disappears, the boy next to you perks up and starts quizzing you on your name, which school you went to, what year you were in. He honestly seemed friendly, noticing your lack of mood for the party and attempting to lighten it up a little. But, you did not feel like answering him.

Perhaps he was trying to make a friend, but you were too preoccupied on how you were going to apologize to Riki tomorrow. And, he was being a little too creepy about not leaving you alone.

He tries asking you open-ended questions, tries to be quirky by asking conversation-inducing questions, but you really had nothing to say that might be of interest to him.

“You look like you aren’t enjoying yourself.” You’re ripped out of your thoughts at his constant efforts at a conversation, and when you start to feel properly awkward, you feel his arm slide behind you, dangling on the couch and inching impossibly closer to you. Maybe he wasn’t trying to make a friend after all.

You silently pray in your head for Chaewon to wake up so you could peel yourself away from the situation.

You stutter over your own words, trying to think of a way to tell him you really weren’t in the mood to have a conversation with a stranger, and you’re sure Riki wasn’t too big of a fan of someone else trying to be touchy with you.

While you appreciated his efforts at trying to make you enjoy yourself, you can’t help but think that he had ulterior motives, and you were sure your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that.

Was the oversized jacket you’re wearing not clue enough that you had a boyfriend?

“Yo, who’s that next to (name)?” Riki’s ears perk up at the mention of your name, back straightening as he tries to listen in on Jake and Sunghoon’s conversation.

“Riki, I think someone’s trying to chat your girlfriend up.” Sunghoon looks behind him to look at Riki who has grown intimidatingly silent at his comment. Motioning over to where you’re seated, Riki pushes himself off from the couch, peering over in search of his girlfriend in the crowd.

Jake and Sunghoon were right. In his view, he spots a stupid looking boy trying to impress you – and you were clearly not having it. Riki feels his head start to ache and his fists clench by his side. He grips his phone tighter, knuckles turning white at the sight that greets him.

The icy grip of jealousy that seeps through his veins is overwhelming. You’re smiling politely at the boy, and Riki knows you’re trying to think of a million ways to get away from the situation. He doesn’t understand why he feels jealous. It’s not like you even wanted to talk to that boy.

Then it clicks. Maybe that’s why. Because here you were, seated with some boy who has his hand on your shoulder when it should’ve been him. And all of this is happening just because he was upset at you for your lack of communication from a while ago.

Nishimura Riki couldn’t take it anymore.

Locked and loaded behind gritted teeth and popping veins on his neck, he makes his way through the crowd, stopping right in front of you and the cause of his annoyance. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Riki glares down at the boy beside you. “That’s my girlfriend, so get your hands off her.”

The sight of Riki is enough to send bullets of sweat down the boy’s forehead. With a newfound fear, the boy straightens up from his seat, pulling his arm off of you before raising it in defeat. “Dude, my bad. She was here alone, how should I have known she had a boyfriend?”

“Go fuck yourself.” Riki’s face flashes in your direction and his features soften at a ridiculously fast pace. He reaches out to take your hand in his before gently tugging you off of the couch, apologizing to Chaewon in the process while he takes you outside.

Riki pulls you in for a hug. He doesn’t care how upset he was with you, he needed to make sure you were okay. With his hand running through your back and his lips pressed on top of your head, he feels his mood instantly lighten.

He pulls away, brushing your hair off your face before asking quietly, “Are you okay?”

You thought about it for a second before nodding your head, smiling gratefully at him. You know he was upset with you (he might still be), and Riki tended to be stubborn and hardheaded when it came to arguments. It was just nice to know that even then, he always had your back. Even if he was angry or upset or annoyed, you knew you could always count on him to be there for you.

“You wanna go home?”

You nod your head, scooting closer to him. He knows that you just need him so he takes your hand in his, leading you over to where he had parked the car. “Maybe some ice cream to make it up to you?”

“Okay. I’m still upset, by the way.”

“I know. I love you.”

“...Love you too.”

[rodolfoparras]

Corruption kink with Noir where he's so gentlemanly and polite and we (being the pervert we are) wanna crack that surface and make him so horny and drunk on pleasure he can't think clearly enough to be a gentleman anymore

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Spider-Man Noir x Top Male Reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, Sub!Noir, Dom! Male reader, corruption kink, accidental voyeurism, alluded gun play, power dynamics (Noir’s a detective, reader is a criminal), riding, rimming, alluded oral sex, non consensual recording

A/N: corruption kink is on my wont write list since it’s not really my thing but I’m ok with this pair’s dynamic so I decided to give this a try (and added my own little spin to this)! However pls make sure to read my list before requesting! Also I tried a different style of writing here since I really wanted to expand on the elements mentioned in Detective’s work. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Ever since Noir entered the police academy he’s dreamt of making a name for himself.

He just never thought it would be this way, sat in front of three burley men known as disciplinary officers, watching what’s supposed to be interrogation tapes but were anything but that.

“This is detective Noir at New York Police department. Today’s date is Wednesday, March 13th 1934. The time is 08:45 AM. This will be a recorded conversation with…..”

It’s clear that Noir’s nervous, you can hear it in his voice, can see it in the way he’s constantly straightening out his uniform, even in the way he’s adjusting his glasses and rearranging things on the table.

You’re seated opposite to him and despite the bright orange uniform you’re wearing and the cuffs around your wrists, you’re smiling while listening to him.

“Could you tell me a bit about where you were…”

When Noir first got tasked with this job, he couldn’t believe his ear.

He’d just graduated from the police academy, barely made a place for himself at the station before he’d been assigned to deal with the most prominent criminal plaguing the city.

He was very well aware of the name you’ve made for yourself, reminded himself even to be careful when starting to work on your case.

He just never thought things would turn out this way.

The tape freezes for just a second before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir perched on your lap, uniform long discarded onto the floor and voice hoarse as he desperately tries to make himself cum.

“Please please” Noir sobs out while practically bouncing on your cock.

You’re still sat in your chair, wearing the very same overalls as before just with your bottom half pulled down to expose your cock. Your arms are still cuffed but pulled behind your back and you’re sporting the very same grin on your face while facing the camera lens.

“You can do it doll, I know you can” you say, eyes half lidded and mouth agape, sounding relaxed as ever as if you didn’t have the head detective of your case riding your dick.

And really that’s all it takes for Noir to start unraveling, coming with a cry spilling all over your overalls and his abdomen.

The recording’s abruptly cut off, his pulse is roaring in his ears, shaky breathes escaping his lips as he scrambles his brain for something to say.

But just as he’s about to say something, another tape starts playing

You’re in the same room as before but this time Noir’s sat on the table rather than on the chair. He appears much more confident, arms folded over his chest and looking down at the notes next to him.

So far the interrogations are going well , everyone’s amazed with just how much information the newbie is able to get. When asked about it Noir says that confidence is key, you can even see it oozing from him in the recordings.

But this is just a facade. His arms are folded over his chest to hide the sweat stains. He’s sat on the table in hopes of disguising the tent he’s sporting in his pants while staring down at his notes to avoid your burning gaze.

“Alright, we talked briefly about….”

You’re still sitting in the same chair, looking just as relaxed as before, even appearing intrigued with the interrogation or rather the interrogator.

Your cuffed hands are resting on the table, the overalls you’re wearing clearly straining as you lean closer to him, while your eyes trail along the length of his body.

Once again the tape freezes before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir with his ass up in the air, chest flush against the table. His hands are behind his back, fingers parting his cheeks while you’re tonguing his puckered hole.

“Please please-” Noir slurs out while erratically bucking up against your mouth.

“Tell me what you want pretty,” you say as you pull away and he almost sobs at the loss of contact.

“Let me cum, please, please I need it,”

The camera’s a bit further away, video lacking color but it doesn’t take much to see he’s got flushed cheeks, drool dripping down his chin as he desperately chases his release.

Theres a string of words he wants to say as an officer turn off the tape, a flux of emotions bubbling up in his gut as he takes in the disgusted expressions of the people that once admired him , a burning need to walk up and take the tape away as he digs his nails into the palms of his hand but before he can do so the officer puts in another one.

There’s no video, only an audio recording, no introduction this time around, no question being read out loud. It’s almost like the people aren’t even aware that they’re being recorded.

That’s when it hits him, they must’ve secretly been recording you and him. They being the police squad. They had started to get suspicious, huge parts of the footage from the interrogations had started to go missing, suspicions rose even more when he had requested to stop all recordings so they had to decide the bug the room while Noir was holding an interrogation.

Hushed words sound through the speaker, then there’s the sound of something shuffling around, accompanied with squelching before he hears you speaking.

“Fuck, you wouldn’t even care if you got your head blown off huh?” You say whilst laughing hysterically in disbelief.

There’s more squelching sounds, more shuffling around, a groan leaving your lips that’s being picked up by the mic.

“Just like that keep going ah fuck!,”

His gaze meets the officers’ as he hears you say

“What would the officers think if they saw you like this?”

[koishiro]

Hi! For your JJK fluff event, could I request dialogue prompt number 5 & number 15 for Megumi Fushiguro?

♡ - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : (dp 5) “apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” + (dp 15) “I’ve loved you for years”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂/𝐖 : f!reader, third person at times, short lil thing

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : sorry this took so long but this is probably my favourite concept lol like everything you listed!!

prompt list | event masterlist | upcoming anon asks | masterlist

-

Looking at one of jujutsu tech’s most powerful sorcerers, we often forget that he’s just a boy. Specifically, a young 15 year old who’s seen more in his life than any one of us will see in our lifetime.

Yet here he stands in the hallways of his school surrounded by the hushed whispers of his classmates bouncing from the corridors walls. It’s a regular occurrence, always revolving around some poor soul and often not having a clue either.

So it doesn’t exactly faze Megumi to hear the quick spread of whispers and passing of phone screens as their eyes dodge around the school’s hallways nor does he even notice.

But he couldn’t care less, not when the sight of you barrelling your way through the sea of faces knocking past idle students with your bag almost twice the size of your own body consumed his thoughts. The way you looked so pretty in the obligatory navy uniform, your hair pulled back by the usual Sanrio clips you insisted on always wearing and that pretty white smile you threw his way that always made his heart pick up.

His stern frown and eagle eyes weaken the tiniest bit, even his crossed arms loosen as he takes in the sight of his best friend, nearly cracking a small smile at your futile attempt of slowing to a stop - nearly knocking other students down with you.

“Megs!” Just his name slipping from your mouth caused his heart to pick up pace.

As soon as you made it within a few feet of him you practically dived into arms, Megumi already prepared with his arms held out after years of this almost daily “tradition”.

“I missed you!” Megumi could’ve sworn his face was red by the sheer burning sensation running through his cheeks when you tilted your head to look up at him, “I saw you not even two days ago?”

You almost shy away from the stare of Megumi. So much so nobody would think you’ve been friends for almost six years now. You send him the tiniest toothy smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a flick of your head not wanting to release your hold on him.

Megumi’s left cheek quirks up in a smile, nearly going unnoticed if it weren’t for the entanglement of limbs you both had wrapped around the other.

It seems cliche to explain it as them both being in their own world but they both interacted like they were. A bubble circled around them, an impenetrable one that only onlookers can look into.

Which is exactly where Nobara and Yuji found themselves, staring from the sidelines clearly unnoticed by the two, too immersed in the conversation - or teasing was more appropriate.

Y/n rests her chin on Megumi’s chest, looking up at him as he continues his teasing. She lifts a hand to brush the insistent stray hair from her cheek before he quickly snatches up to hold whilst he fiddles with the fabric of her uniform with the other.

He leans to mumble something to her, easily making y/n laugh light and bubbly, eyes crinkled at the corners. Then she turns, body pressed closer to his, lips to his ear to whisper something back. Megumi’s laugh comes out as a small rumble, his eyes a brighter viridescent.

“Do you think…?” Yuji’s voice cuts through the scene playing out in front of them, causing Nobara to flick her eyes back and forth from the pair to her friend.

The idea isn’t exactly far-fetched, it kind of made sense actually. The way Megumi was always stiff and cold until you bounce into the room and his posture would completely relax, or the way he holds his drink as far away from anyone as possible to avoid sharing the same straw and “cross contamination” as he put it but if you asked? He wouldn’t even blink twice.

Just simply the way you held each other in the halls was enough to start the clogs turning in everyone’s heads.

It’s not impossible right?

“How much you putting down?”

The quiet rushed whispers of the first and second years were being passed back and forth. The five students all huddled around the pink haired boy’s desk in back corner of the dimly lit classroom.

The energetic panda replied without hesitation, almost as if he had been waiting for that very question all day. “1,800 yen and a pack of kataage!" Everyone in the room stared at the towering figure of a six-foot seven panda bear with a near copy of a deadpan face.

“What are you guys doing?”

The black haired boy stood with his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he faced the other students with a confused expression adorning his face.

He was tall, with a shock of inky black hair falling haphazardly across his forehead, and pale skin that seemed luminescent against the darkness of his locks. His expression betrayed confusion but also determination as he stood before a sea of students; his hands stuffed deep into pockets creating an atmosphere suggesting social unease. Even so, there was comfort in the familiar pensive pose which only served to add further dimensions to the picture this young man presented - strength inside uncertainty.

The cracking of everyone’s necks could almost be heard in the silence of the room as they whip their heads towards the intrusive voice.

“Ah - Megumi, what are you doing here?” Yuji held a tight lipped smile, eyes wide in faux ease, trying to take attention away from the small pile of trinkets and yen splayed out on his desk only hidden by the backs of Maki and Toge.

“It’s a classroom? One we’ll be using in five minutes? You didn’t hear the bell?”

Megumi’s voice was laced with confusion with a hint of his usual sarcasm as he slugged his way towards his chair, the strap of his bag slowly slipping down his shoulder by the time he reached the old desk.

Reaching into his bag to retrieve his headphones to listen the voice message you sent not even two minutes ago he stopped midway slouched over his bag and slowly turned his head towards the multiple pair of eyes burning holes to the side of his head before they hurriedly averted their eyes elsewhere, finding the walls conveniently interesting.

It became a routine at this point. A low buzz began to float through the halls, a sea of whispers bubbled and eddied around him, their hushed voices buzzing in his ears like bees. At first it didn't bother Megumi much; he was used to the odd antics of his classmates but as time went on, the murmuring only got louder and more frequent until they followed him everywhere he went: an ever-present reminder of whatever strange thing people were saying about him behind his back.

The whispers seemed to follow him, during lunch as he sat opposite you while you rambled on about your day while the constant buzzing and passing of whispers caused his eyes to train around the cafeteria, or even as he leaned against your locker waiting for your class to finish only to feel the burning stares of passer-bys.

“What’s wrong?” Drawing his head back towards your voice Megumi noticed the worried look you held, “Hm? ‘m fine”

You however didn’t seem too convinced at your friend’s answer, “You sure? You seem a little spaced out?”

“Yeah jus’, have you noticed the weird stares we’re getting?” Megumi’s eyes flitted over the halls as he said this, suddenly conscious of the other bodies in the long corridor.

Megumi watched as you scrunched your eyebrows in thought and darted your own eyes across the stretch of land before they landed back on him.

“Aren’t they always like that?” You had a point, there was always something happening in Jujutsu High whether it be a bad breakup or a rumour of someone having a crush on another.

But Megumi unsurprisingly liked to fly under the radar, not caring for silly rumours and gossip or whatever they heard down the grapevine.

If he was honest Megumi never really noticed it before, always too absorbed in your own antics. Too focused on you.

Even now as he slugged his way towards the joint kitchen, thinking about the way you looked so cute earlier that day under the mountain of layered scarfs and jackets you had on, along with the small swipe of red across your nose brought on by the chilling temperatures outside.

Barely even passing over the threshold, he heard the familiar high pitched laugh of his best friend.

“There’s absolutely no way! I have this in the bag!” Peaking his head round the corner, he caught sight of the mop of pink hair shaking his head adamantly.

“You sure about that? Have you seen the way those two look at each other?” Nobara practically launched herself across the coffee table, slamming down the amount of yen she found suitable while the others watched on in silence.

“A week max!” He heard the overenthuastic ginger continue, he could already imagine her leaning back, arms crossed and a smug smile planted on her face.

Megumi felt a twitch at the back of his mind as he reached outwards with invisible force from within the shadows of safety and dipped his feet into this unfamiliar environment. He poked his head round the corner of the open arched doorway, quickly identifying the two figures surrounded by the second years.

Yuji shifted in his spot, seemingly unsure of Nobara’s confident words. “How do you know? It could take up to a month for all we know”

“You heard Nobara right? Just standing in the same room as those two is enough to make you feel like a third wheel” quickly followed Maki’s voice before placing her bet at the centre of the table where everyone collectively placed their own.

They were betting? On him? On you?

“How do you know they’re not already dating huh? I mean, we never actually asked right? And they seem pretty close” Panda’s words caused a beat of silence to travel around the group, quick glances and shared thoughts passed round like a game of Chinese whispers.

“Okay new bet, place your money down now if you think Megumi and Y/n are already smackin’!”

Megumi’s eyes practically popped out at this, quickly diving back into the cover of shadows where he attempted to calm down his racing heart by clutching onto his shirt with great strength.

They thought you were dating? Were you really that close to give the impression of being together?

The never ending thoughts seemed to plague Megumi’s mind for the next week, his body unconsciously aware of every passing move you made and his ears automatically tuned in to every breath you let escape.

Now acutely aware of the inescapable eyes from idle onlookers, Megumi seemed hyper-fixated on every detail and move you made. The way your eyes would double in size at the mere mention of your favourite show or the happy dance you never failed to do as soon as the tangy taste of orange slices he specifically cut for you hit your tongue or even the way that said orange burst in your mouth and dripped down the plush skin of your lips as if waiting for an unsuspecting ki-

“-gumi!” The sweet sound emanating from the girl he sat opposite to came as a shock to his system, not realising his mind slipped away as his attention focused in on the concerned expression you held.

“You’re doing it again” he almost wanted to laugh at the small pout you gave him, clearly not happy at having to stop midway from explaining your new weekly fixation to him.

“Sorry, ‘m just a lil’ distracted is all” he grumbled out in his usual less energetic voice. But this didn’t deter you, it would a lot more than that to brush you off, he should know after-all.

Titling your head to the side, a confused expression adorning your face, you didn’t even seem to think twice before asking, “distracted? Why, what’s wrong?”

Your questioning made the poor boy stumble, not quite sure what or how to answer without coming off like a fool, so he tried the subtle approach.

“You haven’t noticed the stares?” He barely mumbled out as he let his eyes wander the large open space of the cafeteria.

“I’ve never seen you so concerned before” gravitating his eyes back to you once more, he witnessed an emotion he never thought he’d see adorn your usual jovial face - hurt. “This is the second time you’re bringing this up, why does it matter if they’re staring, so what? What difference does it make?”

The usually unbothered Megumi wasn’t so unbothered after seeing your heart snap from behind the glass shield of your eyes.

Quickly leaning across the table to grab ahold of the end of your sleeve, he fidgeted with the soft material as he thought over his words, “I didn’t mean it like that - ‘m sorry. I just meant - if you heard about what people are saying is all”

This didn’t seem to comfort you much though, even with the unwavering grip of his fiddling with the ends of your cuffs. “What d’you mean? I haven’t heard anything?”

Usually it was you who came running to him with news on the latest ‘gossip’ yet it completely flew over your head this time, missing it by a long shot.

“Do you like me?”

Blinking once, then twice, you took a minute to register to what your best friend had just told you.

It took a minute of buffering to finally register what you were just told, “sorry?”

“apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” Megumi was now fiddling with his fingers, finding the fabric of his uniform conveniently interesting.

You now found yourself nervously fiddling with your fingers, eyes bouncing back and forth from your best friend to the walls of the cafeteria, “Well…I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right?”

Now this, this caught Megumi off guard. Of course he thought about the idea, the possibility before but never did he think the opportunity would actually introduce itself.

The silence that followed caused your nervous smile to sink, forcing Megumi to splutter out anything that came to mind.

“N - no, that’s not what I meant! - I’d go out with you anytime!” Once again, silence followed suit - except this time both your eyes were blown wide, not too sure where to go from here.

Until a sudden muffled giggle broke the silence, bubbling from none other than you, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh, but now Yuji owes me ¥2,000”

Bewildered, Megumi couldn’t fathom any words but his scrunched up eyebrows must’ve said enough going by your quick explanation.

“I couldn’t help but take part in the bet, it was too hard to resist, I had a feeling you liked me and thought this would be a good opportunity to do something about it” you chuckled out before leaning forward on your elbows, “I like you too by the way, and I’d go out with you anytime as well”

As soon as his confused expression came, it went - replaced by a small tug at the corner of his lips and followed by a fast approaching blush.

Letting a scoff escape, it was your turn to hold a confused look. Returning his attention back to you Megumi went on explain - a small smile slowly taking over, “it’s just crazy to think, I’ve loved you for god-knows how long - years maybe. And now you’re sitting in front of me and saying you like me . Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

At first, Megumi wanted to strangle Yuji with his own two hands, although now - thinking about it, he should really thank his friend for the outcome.

Not too far away, amongst the line of hungry peers queuing for their food was the less than enthusiastic teacher trailed by the ever so nosy white haired Sorcerer peaking over the younger’s shoulder at his students.

“I knew it! Didn’t I tell you Nanamin~ love is in the air!” Gojo’s eyes practically gleamed with hearts. His hands clasped together as the blond didn’t even spare a glance at the overly joyous Sorcerer.

“Are you aware of your age?”

——

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : I just wanna say thank you to Biski for helping me through my major writers block!!! <3

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[lets-get-saucy]

Collecting Strays - Kelley O’Hara X Reader (platonic)

Summary: Miss Kelley is known for making friends with younger players and taking them under her wing. When she notices you, a rookie at Gotham, are having a bad day, she does what she can to make you feel better, adding you to her collection of younger players she looks out for.

Warnings: slight angst  

It had been less than a month since you signed with Gotham. Just a few short weeks ago your mom had helped you move in to your new apartment and get set up in this new city. At first everything was fine. You seemed to fit in well with the team making a few friends with your fellow teammates.

One in particular was Kelley O’Hara. One your very first day with Gotham, Kelley took you under her wing, showing you around, giving you tips during training, and just being a supportive teammate.

Normally, you were excited for practice but today you just couldn’t muster up the energy to even try to seem excited to be there. First, your coffee had spilt in your car leaving you un-caffeinated. Then, you couldn’t stop shivering as you walked outside to the training pitch. The wind was blowing in your face making you even colder despite the training jacket you had on. The sky seemed to get greyer and greyer as training went on. You also weren’t playing as well as you could.

At the end of practice you took a deep breath, not wanting your teammates to see you cry. Showering as quickly as possible and throwing on clothes, you quickly made your way out of the changing room trying to avoid conversation.

Today was just a hard day, your teammates didn’t need to know that.

You were halfway out the building when a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Hey kid,” Kelley said turning you to face her, “what’s up? You’ve been off all day.”

You try to shrug off Kelley’s hand, not bothering to take your eyes off the floor.

“Nothing’s up, I’m just having an off day,” you lie.

“That’s not going to work with me kid,” Kelley crossed her arms in front of her.

Still not looking up you just shrug in response.

“Come on, your gonna come over to my place,” Kelley demanded pushing you towards the door.

“Kelley, really I’m fine I just want to go back to my apartment,” you try and pull away from her.

“Spending an hour at my apartment wont kill you,” Kelley said practically dragging you to her car.

That’s how you ended up on Kelley’s couch, hot chocolate in hand watching some random show.

“So, you want to talk about it yet?” Kelley ask, once you finish your drink setting down.

“No, not really,” you say, turning your attention back to the tv.

Kelley lets out an exaggerated sigh, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I told you early, I’m fine.” Looking over Kelly arches an eyebrow, causing you to sigh this time. “Okay, it’s my mom’s birthday and I miss home and I miss my dog and I really wish I could be there celebrating with everyone and I love it here but…”

Kelley cuts you off “woah, take a deep breath,” pulling you into a hug you burry your face in her neck wrapping your arms around the older woman.

You hadn’t realized you were crying but now it felt like you couldn’t stop.

“I miss home,” you whimper in Kelley’s embrace.

“Shh, I know,” she says rubbing your back. “I know.”

You don’t know how long you to stay like that. With you practically in Kelley’s lap letting it all out as she runs her fingers through your hair and rubs your back, holding you until you calm down.

Once she notices your sobs had stopped Kelley pulls back slightly, wiping your tears away.

“I know its hard,” she says her thumb stroking your cheek. “I wont lie to you and tell you it gets easier. In this profession, you’re always going to miss something. Birthdays, holidays, weddings, but you get so much more and make so many amazing memories and travel to new places, it’ll make it worth it. I’m sorry you miss home but just know this team is here for you. I’m here for you.”

Fresh tears make its way down your cheeks and you whip at them with your shirt sleeve. “Thank you Kelley. Not just for today but for being there for me even when I first joined the team.”

“Of course” Kelley smiled pulling you in for a hug. “Now how about we get some ice cream, ice creams guaranteed to make anyone happy.”

You laugh for probably the first time today, “okay.”

It had been a few hours since your breakdown to Kelley but you were still in her apartment. A knock at the door startled you both. Kelley rolled her eyes when a familiar voice called out. You could tell that a few people were outside, namely Rose and Sonnett, but you couldn’t tell who else.

At first you had thought Kelley had invited them over but when someone knocked Kelley rolled her eyes mumbling how some people just wouldn’t leave her alone as she went to open the door. You knew her annoyance was fake though when Jenna walked through the door Jenna launched herself at Kelley. Kelley picked her up spinning the younger girl around. Rose and Sonnett followed behind walking into Kelley's apartment. You smiled in greeting to your teammates.

Sonnett and Rose made their way into the living room, saying quick hellos as Kelley sat Jenna back down on her feet.

“You guys ate ice cream without us,” Sonnett frowned when she noticed the two empty bowls on the coffee table.

“Ice creams for invited guest only,” Kelley said following Jenna and Rose into the living room.

“I’m hurt Miss Kelley,” Sonnett placed a hand over her heart pretending to be offended.

“What are you guys watching,” Rose said sitting down between you and Sonnett.

“Just some trash reality tv show,” You said causing Kelley to scoff.

“First, they barge in then you insult the tv shows I watch.”

“We should watch a movie,” Jenna interrupts as she squeezes herself in between Sonnett and Rose.

“I agree,” Sonnett picks up the remote, looking for a movie to watch.

“You guys know this is my apartment, right?” Kelley is still standing, her hands on her hips looking at all of you.

“Please Miss Kelley? That show was boring,” you stick out your bottom lip, giving Kelley the best puppy-dog eyes you can.

“Sonnett, look what you’ve taught her,” Kelley gasp causing the room to laugh. “My sweet innocent baby calling me Miss Kelley.”

Kelley pinches your cheeks, swatting at her hands trying to get her to stop as the others laugh at you two. “I’m not a baby,” you pout.

“You’re one of the youngest on the team, of course you’re a baby,” Kelley says finally sitting down next to you pulling you into her side.

You cross your arms sinking back into the couch.

“Does that mean I’ve been upgraded Miss Kelley?” Jenna ask leaning forward to look at Kelley.

“Ugh not you too,” Kelley groans covering her face with her hands.

“Shh guys, Sonnett picked a movie,” Rose said kicking her feet up on the coffee table.

The movie started and everyone was quite watching as the opening credits came on the screen.

“Wait!” Jenna stood up from the couch, walking to the kitchen. “We need popcorn.”

After the movie, Sonnett, Rose, and Jenna started getting their things together.

“Thanks Miss Kelley for letting us crash your place,” Jenna said pressing a kiss to Kelley’s cheeks.

“Yeah yeah,” Kelley said taking empty bowls to the kitchen.

A chorus of byes followed as the other women made their way out of Kelley’s apartment, leaving just you and her. You grabbed the remaining bowls from the coffee table, taking them to the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kelley said taking them from your hands.

“It’s okay, it’s the least I can do since you let me stay here all day,” you shrugged.

“If I remember correctly, I had to drag you to my car earlier,” you roll your eyes at Kelley’s response.

You lean against the counter as Kelley loads her dishwasher, “about that, how am I getting to my apartment?”

“Why don’t you just stay her tonight and I’ll drive us to training in the morning?”

You try to come up with an excuse but you don’t have one and you don’t really want to be alone right now any ways.

Nodding, your wrap your arms around yourself, “okay, thanks.”

“Yeah its no problem,” Kelley says giving you a soft smile.

Now that a few hours had gone by you realized you weren’t sad anymore, or as sad. Kelley had succeeded in taking your mind off things. You didn’t realize how desperately you had needed the company. If you hadn’t come over to Kelley’s you would have probably gone back to your apartment after practice and spent all day crying in your bed.

“No Kelley, I mean thank you, for today,” you admit. “I really needed this.”

“I know kid,” Kelley says pulling you in for a hug.

[gothbitez]

well, two can play that game ; ellie williams

pairing: college!ellie willams x afab!reader

chapter: one-shot (4.6k words)

warnings: 18+ content, minors do not interact!! dom!ellie x femme!reader, poc friendly, sexual content, angst, past relationship, jealousy, abby x reader (briefly for plot tension), reader and ellie are toxic petty, semi-public sex, hatesex if u squint but they love each other so idk angry sex is more accurate.

summary: you and ellie hadn't spoken since you broke up a few months ago and suddenly she shows up to this party with another girl on her arm.

inspired by heartbeat by childish gambino

author's note: soo linger got so much more love than I expected I love u guys wish I could respond to comments or follow y'all back but this isn't my main acc rip, just know that I'm lurking and appreciate all the reblogs and love <3

:::

Disclaimer: I do not support the genocide of the indigenous Palestinian people, and neither should you, please don’t buy the new Remastered or continue giving any more money to Druckmann. Educate yourself, learn the history, it is vital. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free 🇵🇸

**

The music was booming, noise reverberated through the walls of the home belonging to whichever current popular kid was hosting this weeks Friday party.

You had been in a bit of a rut recently, not really taking time out of your schedule to have fun and live like you should be living, Dina was aware of that. So today, she had forced convinced you to come to some sports-heads party.

"Come on, get dressed" She had said, with a smug smile as you lifted yourself off the bed and into your bathroom to get ready. You had worn a silky, long black skirt. It reached the ends of your shins with a long slit that exposed your leg all the way up to your thigh. On top, you wore a simple tee, with a long strip of thick eyeliner along your skin.

And here you were. Sighing to yourself as you watched the typical acts of debauchery unfold amongst your peers. A bottle of alcohol was soon in your line of sight, Dina holding it up to you after just having taken a swig herself. "Here, looks like you need it."

You grabbed the clear bottle and drank, grimacing at the harsh taste that was developing in your mouth. You, Dina and Jesse had settled on sitting in-front of the couch on the floor, you tended to be a floor sitter; being crosslegged was quite comfortable.

In that moment, the front door of the owner's house swung open, and you felt your heart drop. In walks Ellie Williams, your ex-girlfriend, with another girl clutching on to her arm. You watched as the duo did their rounds, greeting the people they knew and joking briefly. Ellie looked around the living room, looking for a place to base, her green eyes landed on where you, Dina and Jesse were sat before making her way over, causing you to sigh.

That was possibly the last thing you had wanted, to be in an environment with your ex and her new conquest. You and Ellie had broken up a few months ago, not through lack of love, and definitely not due to bad sex. Quite the opposite. Ellie had a habit of self-sabotage, you'd get close to her and then one day she'd freeze and want to cut off all connection. She was a ghost, you knew this. That's why you broke up in the first place. It had been a painful wound which had still not healed over.

Technically, you had no say. There was nothing you could say about her sitting with you guys, Dina was Ellie's friend as much as she was yours, and despite the painful breakup, you wouldn't force her to pick sides. It would've been nice to know in advance that Ellie was going to come, though. At least then you could've prepared for the pang in your chest as the girl interlocked her fingers onto Ellie's as they sat. Dina threw you a sympathetic look, as if to say, 'I didn't know she was gonna be here..'

You took another swig of the alcohol as conversations between Ellie and the group started, knowing you couldn't avoid her any longer. You hadn't spoken to each other since she left, there were so many things left unsaid. Focusing on the music, you nodded your head along to the beat of the song that was playing over the speakers, your eyes glancing at the crowd dancing in the middle of the living room, observing.

You suddenly got the sense that you were being watched, your eyes flickered away from the crowd and into the green eyes that were staring you down from across the group. Ellie looked at you with no expression, her hand resting on the unknown girl's thigh. She caught your eyes look down towards her hand and glanced back up to you. What was she trying to achieve here? Make you feel worse?

You broke the eye contact, preferring to get up off the floor and making your way into the kitchen to head out into the host's backyard. You heard Dina ask where you were going but you hadn't registered her voice in time to reply.

Your body was met with cold temperatures as soon as you passed through the backdoor, you mentally groaned as your jacket was not warm enough to keep you warm. Glancing around, you took note of where groups of people were sat talking to each other, you just needed a moment to yourself. You gravitated towards the quietest spot in the backyard, liking how there wasn't much activity and sat yourself down, perched with your chest resting on your legs.

Grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket, you singled one out from the deck and brought it up your lips. With the cigarette secure against your lips, you reached down, searching for a lighter, your head facing the floor, before you heard the familiar flick of flint come from above you.

Looking up, you were met with the last person you had wanted to see in your time out. "How long are you going to pretend I don't exist?" she spoke, the first thing either of you had said to each other in months. Her arm was still holding the lit lighter, looking at you, waiting for you to light the cigarette.

Knowing how stubborn she is, you knew you had no choice but to bring your face closer to the lighter, meeting the flame and sparking the tobacco. "You're definitely not the one who should be asking that question." You muttered, inhaling the smoke.

"Look, what do you want me to say?" Ellie sighed, placing herself next to you before lighting her own cigarette. She was wearing her favourite grey hoodie, it was so worn you could see small tears in the sleeves. "Honestly, nothing right now, why don't you go back to the girl you brought with you? I'm sure she's missing your presence."

"She doesn't smoke, and I wanted one." "Well, you didn't have to sit here," you knew you were being harsh, but what else were you meant to do with the built-up hurt? If you took away the anger, what would you have left? Ellie sighed beside you, "We haven't spoken in months.." "And whose fault is that, Ellie?" You were looking at her now, eyes boring into hers.

"I know I shouldn't have left," she took a drag, exhaling as she spoke, "I wa-," Cutting her off, you spoke. "You were what? You didn't just leave, Ellie, you completely blindsided me. You think something's going well with someone and then they disappear. No explanation, no message, nothing!"

Hearing your words, her heart fell. She knew she had hurt you that day, but she felt scared. You were right, something was going well, so well that Ellie was scared she'd get hurt first. So she decided to end it before giving you the chance. "I didn't mean to hurt you," "Yeah? Too bad," you scoffed, "Cos you did." Finishing your cigarette, you stumped it out on the floor, forcing yourself up to your feet to go back to the living room. A hand stopped you, wrapping itself around your forearm preventing you from walking further. With a sigh, you turned to face her.

"You don't have to run away from me," Ellie said, voice low. Shivers travelled down your spine, as her eyes glanced to your lips, "I'm not contagious." "I don't want anything to do with you." You whispered, fighting every urge you had to just kiss her and make up. If you stayed here a minute longer, you knew you would cave to her. Despite how badly she had hurt you, you couldn't forget the way she made you feel. Knowing you still loved her, still felt the burning desire to kiss her.

Your thoughts focused on to the girl that had come with her tonight, your brows furrowed as anger washed over you. Ripping your arm out from her grip, you turned away and walked back inside to the party.

—

A week had passed, you were making your way to Dina's kitchen as you helped her set up the decorations, food and drink ready for her birthday party.

You had gotten completely dolled up, at least to your standards, wearing a band tee underneath a long, dark satin dress with your signature eyeliner. After all, it was Dina's birthday, you had to look nice. Besides, you were in hopes of getting some action tonight, knowing Dina had invited some girls from her class and you hadn't had any action since Ellie. It had been a... long time.

Ellie was helping at Dina's, too. Since your last conversation, things hadn't gotten better. Your hurt had somehow, shifted into snark, bickering with Ellie anytime you'd be in the same vicinity, which happened often.

Snark, petty comments and arguing. That's all Dina had heard between you and Ellie, at one point she thought you were about to kill each other. Dina had asked you about some guy that had approached you earlier on in the day. He had walked up to you with the utmost confidence that his flirting would be successful. You almost felt bad for him, the way his smile dropped when you told him you were a lesbian. Dina thought the story was hilarious and had asked you about it, upon hearing this, against her better judgement Ellie had made a comment about it which resulted in a heated argument between the two of you and Dina suddenly regretting her decision to bring it up. It had gotten so riled up that when Ellie stormed out of the room, she slammed the door so hard that it left visible cracks on the wall and the plant pot on the window beside it smashed into pieces.

"Okay, so... the bottles can go on this table and the food goes to that one with the bowls." Dina instructed, motioning you to put down the items you were carrying. Ellie had stayed in the living room moving the furniture around the room so that people could have more space to move, so Dina took her chance to talk to you.

"So, um.. you and Ellie haven't been doing so hot," she spoke, looking at you with a worried expression. "Well observed, Dina." "Hey, don't take your frustrations out on me, I'm an innocent bystander watching as world war three breaks out." She joked, lightly. "Sorry, it's just, I don't know what's changed but every time I look at her I just get so angry."

"I didn't say it wasn't justified, just worried about you guys, I'm friends with both of you and it's not nice seeing you two like this," Dina's hand went to rest on her hip as she spoke, emphasised her point, she sighed before continuing, "At least try and get laid tonight, fresh blood might make you less angry." She joked.

"Dina!" You groaned, before turning away from her and returning to the living room where people were beginning to show up.

A few hours go by and the party is in full swing, it wasn't crowded like last week's but more of a gathering, which you could handle. You had a few drinks, were nowhere near as drunk as some people, but you were at a nice level. You had spent an amount of the night away from your friends, after being introduced by Dina to this girl, Abby, one of the gays Dina had invited in hopes she could wingman you a date.

It was nice. Abby was incredibly attractive, she had long blonde hair and her arms were unlike anyone you had ever met. So muscular and big, you had a thing for slightly more masculine women, that's what got you in this mess with Ellie in the first place. Though, Abby and Ellie were complete opposites and if memory served correctly, you were pretty sure you remembered Ellie saying there was a girl in her class that she hated of the same name. Said girl had been involved in an altercation with Ellie, you honestly didn't remember why. You wondered if they were the same person.

Abby had completely distracted you from your worries with Ellie, revelling in the straight-forward way she would flirt with you and touch your thigh. It was nice to feel wanted.

Someone wasn't impressed, though. Ellie had been a sour mood all day because Cat had refused to come to the party with her, claiming that Ellie still had feelings for you and that's why she always cared enough to pick fights with you. Ellie denied this causing Cat to immediately break up with her on the spot. You had been on her mind today more than she cared to admit, and seeing you flirt with someone she absolutely despised, watching as Abby placed her hand on your exposed thigh, simply put, it pissed her off.

Dina watched Ellie carefully, not uttering a word when she saw her rolling her eyes at you both. "Can you believe that shit?" Ellie said, pointing at you from across the room. "Of all people, why is she entertaining that asshole?" "Ellie-," Dina was interrupted, "Laughing like her jokes are funny, she's the most boring person I've ever met," "Do-," "Who does she think she is?" "Ellie!" Dina shouted, "If you're that bothered, stop staring."

"I'm not staring.. they're just fucking gross." Ellie sighed, taking a swig of her beer. "You're staring. Go take a walk or something," Groaning, Ellie got up deciding to to the bathroom. Not that she needed it, she just couldn't bear the sight of you two any longer.

She stepped her way up the stairs, music and alcohol causing her to suddenly realise she was a bit more waved than she originally thought, either that or she got up too fast.

Stepping into the bathroom, she rested her hands on either side of the sink, looking at herself in the mirror. She could still feel the anger burn through her chest, igniting further as she remembered the ease with which Abby placed her hands on your thighs and the way you allowed it. Deep down she knew she had no right to be jealous, it was her fault after all. Yet, she cursed to herself as she thought back to the past weeks.

Cat had been right, of course. Ellie was in no way over her feelings for you, they never even left. She was just scared and jumped ship, and now this arguing and pettiness had only been an excuse so that you could have a way of talking to each other. Ellie's thought process was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and she knew her little breather was over and she'd have to face the world again.

Sighing, Ellie lifted herself off the sink and opened the bathroom door, not expecting you to have been the person who was knocking. "Oh, sorry I didn't know you were in there," you stated, your long eyeliner standing out in the dim light of corridor. Ellie had always loved when you wore that.

"It's alright, actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you," You quirked an eyebrow up at Ellie's words, "What did you wanna talk about?" "You should stay away from her, Abby, I mean. She's not a good person," Ellie quipped, the alcohol making her lips a lot looser than they would be if she was stone sober.

"Oh?" your features turned sour, "And who are you to tell me to stay away from her?" "I just wanted to let you know, no need to be a dick about it." "What makes you think I care about your opinions on my love life? You have no right." You were stepping up closer to her, frustration all over your features. "I heard you and Dina talking earlier, if you're gonna sleep with someone out of desperation at least pick someone better." Ellie squinted, her anger levels quickly rising as your voice raised, that seemed to piss you off even more. How dare she?

"If I want to fuck Abby, I will," you paused, noticing the way Ellie's chest was quickly rising as she took deep breaths, "It's none of your business." You voice lowered, Ellie's top lip sneering as she listened to you continue.

"She's nice, she's hot and have you seen her arms? I'm gonna sleep with her and there's nothing you can do to stop that." You whispered, knowing you were playing with fire but you couldn't stop yourself. Were you doing it on purpose? You weren't sure. You saw something in Ellie's eyes snap as soon as the words left your lips.

Within moments, your arm had been grabbed and you were being pulled into the bathroom. Ellie slammed the bathroom door shut and pushed you against it, the back of your head hitting the wood. "You sure about that?" Ellie muttered, she was seething, "I can think of many things I can do to stop that from happening." There was a snarl in her voice, a gruff raspiness that spurred you on.

"What was it specifically that pissed you off?" You teased, "The fact that it was her or the fact that it wasn't you?"

Ellie's hands trailed down to the back of your thighs, the only barrier being your long dress, with a firm grip she squeezed, causing a sigh to escape your lips. Truthfully, your comment about Abby's arms had touched a nerve, and Ellie found herself wanting to prove that she was just as strong as that meathead that was flirting with you. "Brave words for someone who threw a hissy fit the other day because she saw me with Cat."

You brought your hands from your sides to the back of Ellie's neck, silently wrapping your arm around her shoulders, Ellie's grip still tight on your thighs. Her face nearing your neck, "It's funny," Ellie whispered, before placing kisses on the space behind your ear, "You talk all this game about letting her fuck you, but darling, I'm the best that you've had, face it."

Her hands travelled up your legs, before landing at the curve of your behind, you swallowed a gasp, feeling her tease you through your dress, not wanting her to know the power she had over you in this moment. You were embarrassed at your own silence, not knowing how to reply to her words.

"Abby could do a better job," As soon as you said it, you regretted it. Ellie was certainly not impressed, hands clutching at your dress as she slowly lifted up the fabric, exposing your legs to her. "Oh yeah?" her gaze flickered down to your lips, "You want me to call her up here and show her how much you can't stand me?"

You stayed silent, her words spurring you on more that you expected, "Cos I can do that."

The distance between your lips had closed, Ellie pressing softly against yours as the music thumped in the background. Her hand travelled up from your thighs, caressing your sides as she reached the back of your head. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, deciding to press into the kiss and wrap your arms around Ellie's neck. You could feel her smirking into the kiss as her fingers tightened around your hair, evoking a sigh out from your lips.

"You always did like when I did that," Ellie basked in the memories of your past relations, something she regretted losing. You two just always seemed to understand each other at that level, your bodies working together, she knew exactly what you liked and you knew exactly what she liked. It just worked.

It was no different this time around, just with a little added bitterness. All the tension from the arguing, the snide remarks and jealousy over the past few months seemed to have been leading to this exact moment. A cathartic release of pressure that had been building up.

"Shut up, Williams."

She chuckled as her lips went down your neck, kissing down to your collarbone as she sucked, intentionally leaving a lovely purple symbol marked on your skin. A symbol that you were hers, and she was going to let everyone else see it. Let Abby try and flirt with you now. Your chest heaved up and down, anticipating the gentle touch of her hand lifting your skirt, exposing your legs more than they already were. You felt a tightness at your core, even amidst your anger towards her, you still reacted in this way.

"You're so soft, for a girl so frigid." she muttered into your neck, kneading the skin of your thighs, her hand was so close to where you wanted her. "You're an asshole," You breathed out, back arching into the door, pressing you closer into it as Ellie moved her body closer to yours. "Oh yeah?" she paused, "Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" Her hand trailed closer to your centre, fingers skimming over your underwear, her raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Because I'm such an asshole?" Her words dripped like honey, and suddenly you were melting. "Fuck," you sighed, your head falling down to her shoulders for support, suddenly feeling out of breath as her fingers teased around your most sensitive spot. "What was that, pretty girl?" her finger clutched on to the cotton fabric and slid underneath it, sliding the cloth to the side as she teased her finger through your dampened folds.

"Fuck, Ellie.." you gasped, your hips jutting towards her hand, a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension between your legs as Ellie retracted her finger from you. "No, no, pretty girl, that isn't how this works," You groaned, hearing distant chatter in the corridor outside of the bathroom as you were suddenly reminded of the outside world. "Ellie, please," you whispered, conscious that you would be heard by the partygoers. "Please, what?" She hummed, enjoying dragging this out, it was all a power play to her. You knew that, but you thrived off it just as much as Ellie did.

"Please," you rocked your hips into her hand again, "Need you to fuck me, Els." Upon hearing you, she restarted her movements, skimming your folds with her fingers once again, your mouth was agape, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling of her fingers against your clit. "That's a good girl," she smirked as she watched you, her scarred eyebrow flicking upwards, her eyes full of mirth. Your hand reached towards the back of her head, grabbing on to the elastic that held her bun in place as you pulled, tugging her head backwards slightly as some strands of her auburn hair fell out of place, looking almost as disheveled as you felt.

Spurred on by your actions, Ellie had decided to insert two of her fingers into you, emitting a wanton gasp to fall from your open lips. You clenched around the intrusion, feeling as her fingers sloppily dipped in and out of your soaked core, filthy sounds bouncing around the room. You bit back moans as Ellie buried her slender fingers deep into your folds, groaning at the indecent sounds of your slick against her digits.

"Fuck," you accidentally moaned, and a lot louder than either of you had expected, causing Ellie to let go of her grip of her fingers on the back of your head and into your open mouth. Taking the hint, you sucked on her fingers, drool slipping out from between your lips as she fucked your mouth. Suppressing your moans, your eyes rolled shut as Ellie slid another finger into your centre, relishing at the sight of you. Fingers stuffed in your mouth with one hand, fingers glistening with your slick as she rocked in and out of you with the other. Your flawless eyeliner now smudged and smeared all over your eyes, with a single stream cleared from a tear that had fallen from your eyes at the pleasure you were feeling. You were a sight she wanted to keep in her memory for the rest of her life.

"You're so fucking hot, babygirl, but you gotta stay quiet for me," The pads of her fingers met with the walls of your core, hitting you at a deeper angle than before. How the fuck were you meant to stay quiet like this? Was she doing this on purpose?

"Unless you want everyone here to know how good I'm fucking you," Her words were inching you closer, when you suddenly felt her fingers retract from your mouth and her body dipping down, kneeling in front of you. Her antsy hands fumbled over the fabric that was still tight against your hips, ripping them down so she could have complete access to you.

"You look so good when you're being fucked, pretty girl." You felt her head reach closer towards your centre, you breathed in a sigh as her hand grabbed hold of your leg and placed it over her shoulder. Her tongue licked gentle stripes up your folds, as she continued her movements with her hands, fucking into you as she licked your cunt like she was starved.

"You taste so good, baby," she breathed out, "Ellie- fuck.." you moaned, not trusting yourself to keep quiet as you covered your face and mouth with your arms. Ellie looked up at you, watching your face contort with the pleasure she was giving you, holding your arms against your face to keep yourself quiet. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Ellie seemingly knowing exactly what to say to bring you closer and closer.

"Wanna tell me again how you're going to go fuck Abby?" she paused, fingers still in a consistent, deep motion inside you, "Because it seems like you've changed your mind, angel." You were never going to go and actually fuck this girl, you had just said that to rile her up, Ellie knew this, yet she couldn't hold her tongue from saying these things to you.

"Ellie, shit," you gasped, "I don't want anyone else," Your hand moved down to her disheveled hair, forcing her head closer to you as you rocked your hips into her face, pure desperation. "I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, don't forget that," And she was right. Within seconds of her reconnecting her tongue to your centre, fingers still pushing into you, you felt all control of your body leave you. Shaking and writhing on her face as she brought you closer to your peak, your juices sliding down Ellie's chin.

Moaning and gasping, you dragged her face up to yours, capturing her lips in an ardent kiss as you could taste yourself on her lips. You felt her fingers slowly slide out you and let out a final moan. Your hands started to trail down Ellie's sides, grasping at her clothes in an attempt to take them off her.

"No, no, baby. None of that, I'm going to leave you right here," she chuckled, feeling your desperation, "You know where I'll be, when you're tired of flirting with strangers, give me a call."

And she left you, in your fucked out haze, all delirious and dazed, in the bathroom of Dina's party.

——

[madlittlecriminal]

Could I please request Jason Todd waking up in the middle of the night to find his hero!S/O climbing through his window covered in injuries (maybe the S/O is supper shy and really only wanted to be near Jason and not have him take care of them, maybeee??)

Through the Window ⇏ Jason Todd × GN!Shy!Stubborn!Hero!Reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, one mention of his death, 'sunshine' is gender neutral and it just fit

while the gif is from Gotham Knights, it doesn't have to be Jason Todd you have in mind. there just wasn't good gifs under his tag.

He heard the sound of his window open and knew it was you; you liked to visit him after patrolling, so he was expecting you. However, he wasn't expecting to tilt his head to the side when he saw you struggle to get into the window.

"You alright there, sunshine?" He asked before walking towards the window to help you in, eyes falling on your smile that he adored; he knew you loved being called sunshine because you were the light in his life that he believed was missing.

Part of him was glad he didn't stay dead because he got to meet you.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He glared at you for your response, not satisfied at all as he knew you were lying.

"Sunshine, you know that won't fly with me." As he helps you in, he closes the window, but from the corner of his eye, he sees you stumble, making his brows furrow with concern and confusion. "What happened?" He asks before facing you again.

You shake your head. "Nothing." You sat on the couch with a sharp exhale, your eyes avoiding his which he quickly noticed.

"I thought we promised we wouldn't-" Jason cut himself off as he saw the dark stain on your red top from your suit. "Sunshine, what happened?!" Concern filled his voice as he rushed towards you.

"Jay, I'm fine, really. It's just a cut."

"A cut?!" He shakes his head and sighs. "That's definitely not just a cut. Tell me what happened and let me patch you up, okay?"

"It's fine, seriously."

He grumbles at your response before crossing his arms. "You have a swollen eye, a 'cut' on your side and probably more injuries that I can't see and you expect me to just stand here and do absolutely nothing about it? Are you out of your mind?" He raises his brows while waiting for you to respond.

"Maybe I just want to be held by you..." your voice was a bit softer as you look down at your lap, causing your boyfriend to sigh.

Jason hands you the kit and kisses the top of your head. "Do me a favor and tend to your so called cut and then I'll hold you as gently and for as long as you want. Deal?"

You grab the kit and rush to the bathroom, making Jason chuckle before he went to his bedroom to wait for you.

A few minutes later, you leave the bathroom and head to Jason's room where he waited for you, his arms opened wide and making you smile. You get in the bed, letting him wrap his arms around you and holding you close to him.

It didn't matter if you were taller or shorter than him, he enjoyed holding you. It was even better when he felt you relax into him; he felt like a teddy bear whenever you nuzzled into him like you did now.

"This conversation isn't over. We're still talking about this in the morning." He says softly while tracing shapes on your back.

"Mhm." You hum as you feel yourself drift in his warmth.

[seungmoonandstars]

𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 11k

rating: mature/explicit ಇ

comments: thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs and feedback! (´︶`) knowing someone is enjoying my fics makes writing seungmin so much easier. technically this is the last part, but not really...

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ｡ ⋆

→ Blind Date

→ Second Date

→ Third Date

Part 4 of 4

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

-

Counting the days and weeks until Seungmin comes back to you has been excruciating, sometimes anxiety inducing, and the only thing really keeping you together.

As of today it’s been 136 days since you spent the night with him. Twenty weeks, almost, since you looked at him face to face—touched him, kissed him, desperately wanted to confess how you’ve already fallen for him, and you never want to leave his side again.

But he did text you three days ago.

A part of you feels like giving up, because maybe this has gone on for far too long.

It’s nothing that Seungmin has done. He hasn’t said anything to you about things likely not working out. He talks to you in the same sweet, cheery way he always has when he actually has time to text, or call. You don’t resent him for his lack of communication, ever, because you know his lifestyle is worlds away from yours.

But the part of you that’s crazy about him sits and thinks: he can call for a five minute conversation, ask me how I am before I completely fall apart. You think…why hasn’t he messaged back? It takes a few seconds.

You hate having these thoughts. But you’re only human, and you have so much empty time to think about him.

It’s just not the same for him. It might never be the same for him.

Right now you’re staring out of your classroom window, completely lost in thought. The kids are working quietly, and it’s honestly the first time all day where you’ve been truly alone in your head.

There’s a loud knock on the door, and it makes you, and your students, jump.

“Come in…”

The door opens slowly, and the face that peeks through the door is a familiar one.

“Hey,” Choonhee waits a moment, then enters and closes the door behind her. She grabs a chair and finds a spot to sit directly in front of, across your desk.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way out, but I wanted to see you before I left. I keep missing you, and you’re not answering my messages.” The look she gives you is a little bit questioning, and a little bit irritated.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I’m trying to get out of this slump.”

“Slump? The same one you’ve been in for the last…” she gestures vaguely at nothing, “month? Maybe longer, I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” you manage, but it comes out shaky. You feel your throat tighten, and the air is pushed out of your lungs. Your eyes sting with tears. You can’t do this here.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry.” Choonhee starts to stand, “go pull yourself together, I’ll watch the class.”

You inhale deeply and make your way to the restroom. Luckily you have it to yourself, because when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, tears are starting to stream down your cheeks. The result of bottling up until you explode.

Talking to Choonhee about this was always an option, but you haven’t. For some reason, you didn’t want her know how deep the cut is that Seungmin has made in you.

Her blind date was probably never supposed to turn into this; something serious, something you want, maybe more than anything you’ve ever wanted. You feel stupid and childish about it, because you know who he is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that it was him that initiated date number two, and three, sort of, otherwise you’ll convince yourself you somehow forced him into all of this.

It takes far too long for you to finish crying and clean yourself up, but she’s still sitting there waiting when you return.

“I’ll be over tonight, and we’re going to talk it out. Okay?” She says.

You nod, eyes still red, makeup probably giving you two black eyes.

“I have to get going, I’ll see you later. Your phone went off while you were in the bathroom.”

You watch her as she walks out, then look to your students. In a few minutes, they’ll be dismissed. And you can go home and finish the crying that you’ve started.

First, you sit and poke the screen of your phone. It’s just a text message.

No, it’s not just a text message. It’s Seungmin. Choonhee probably looked, but all she would’ve seen is the contact name for him; SM.

Weeks ago, you almost changed it to Minnie, but you didn’t. The impersonal, secretive SM remained. You unlock your phone and open it.

I hope you had a good day. You’re just leaving work, I think…if I have my time right

And just like that, he pulls you back up, and back in. He says the right thing at just the right time. Although today, he he did miss it by a few minutes.

Now you battle with whether or not you text him back immediately, or wait until you get home. Neither feels like the right thing to do. You stare down at the message until it’s time for you to dismiss your class, thinking of what to say to him.

It’s personal. He took note of the time, and remembered when it is you usually leave.

Part of you feels like crying again, but your heart is fluttering. You hate this.

———

“I got your favorite!” Choonhee starts unloading the bag of food she brought with her. “Don’t look so defeated over there.”

She let herself in while you sat folded up on the couch. You’re still looking at your phone, trying to figure out what to say to him. Should you keep it casual and tell him your day was alright? Lie?

No, you could tell him the truth; that it was a rough day, and you’ve had a lot of days like this lately because you haven’t seen him in such a long time. But you have no idea how he’d react to that. Maybe he would feel guilty about not texting more, or feel bad because he’s been too busy to see you when he is in Seoul.

Or maybe he would feel overwhelmed by it, and decide enough was enough.

Seungmin—the Seungmin you know, at least, has always come off very laidback. Open when he needed to be, but not overly so. He’s a little bit reserved, but so many moments with him have been…cute.

And Chicago. It’s been so long since Chicago—long enough that the memory is fading a little. You have to think back on it and keep yourself there, in that moment, to remember all the detail. It’s all still there, in your head.

Finally, you start to type.

“Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.”

You stare at it until Choonhee clears her throat in an attempt to get your attention.

You read it once more, then send it.

“Okay, dinner is served. Eat and tell me what’s been bothering you.”

You set your phone face down on the table and take a few bites before getting into it. Starting the conversation will be the most difficult.

So you just start.

“This is a little bit my fault, isn’t it?” Choonhee listened quietly, but you could tell she wasn’t expecting this to be about him. “I pushed this on you. I knew he spoke to you back in…June? I think it was June. But I didn’t know you saw each other again after the first date.”

“Yeah, there was a second date. And a third. And, well…ya know.”

Her eyebrows raise, “what? Fourth, fifth?”

“No, we slept together.”

She’s silent for a long moment, but her eyes remain fixed on you.

“When I went home in July. Remember?”

She’s still silent.

“I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Seungmin doesn’t like opening up to people. He doesn’t do that. Or he didn’t, at least. Are you sure you didn’t just…dream it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream about having sex with him and then convince myself it really happened.”

Choonhee throws her hands up and waves your remark away, “okay I’m sorry, I’m just…surprised. I mean, even the multiple dates is a little surprising.”

“Then why did you even set us up?”

She shrugs, and then struggles to find the right words, “I don’t know…you were both here, and alone. I didn’t want you to spend the holiday by yourself. I thought you’d like him…I guess I was right. I’m not usually good with matches.

“So…are you saying I should just move on?”

“No, absolutely not! Text him right now, and tell him you want to see him when he gets home. He doesn’t get to fuck and run. I don’t care who he is.”

She goes quiet for a few seconds, but you can tell she’s frustrated and deep in thought. “I knew you’d like him. I’m sorry, I made this mess. If he doesn’t get himself together and talk to you like he should, I’ll go find him myself.”

———

By the time your text message gets to Seungmin, he’s home, undressed, and about to hop into a very hot shower. He smiles when he reads Minnie, because in the far too few messages exchanged, you’ve mostly called him Seungmin. His smile fades when he reads the rest.

He knows he’s been bad at this. Not just bad, actually—he’s been pathetic. He’s ghosted you, and strung you along for weeks.

No, he thinks. It’s been months of sporadic texting. Every time he was home, or close to home, he ignored you. Not maliciously, of course, and ignored is a strong word. He messaged you, but it really was the bare minimum. Especially after the last time you were together; you gave yourself to him, and Seungmin took all that he could.

Now he can’t admit to you how much it scared him.

He sets his phone down for now, and climbs into the shower—because once again, his mind, body, and everything in between is tired.

He’s so tired, he feels like he could cry. Maybe if he just let go, let himself wrap around someone and cry into their chest, he would feel better.

———

“When did he text you last?” Choonhee is cleaning up the table, throwing things into the sink, and generally doing a terrible job of tidying. But she means well, and you let her at it. “Has it been a while?”

“Three days ago, before today. He sent a message while you were in my classroom earlier.”

“Oh, is that who the buzz was? Did you answer back? Maybe you should just make him wait around.”

“I replied right before we ate, only because it took me a while to figure out what to say.”

You’re back on the couch now, phone in hand, eyes staring at the stagnant message thread. Figuring out his schedule is tough sometimes, and you try (and usually fail) to stay off of Twitter and fan sites. Right now you’re sifting through them, though—looking for anything new.

You pull up a few airport photos from earlier today. Seungmin is hidden behind a mask and a hat, but you can see his eyes. He looks tired.

It makes your heart sink. You return to your message thread again and read through the last few texts; they feel more and more impersonal as time goes on, and that makes your heart sink, too.

Maybe he is pulling away from you.

“I know saying this won’t help, but do not let this take over. Don’t let him get into your head like this.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Choonhee grabs your arm and shakes it furiously, “he’s just a guy!”

———

Seungmin is flat on his back, covers fluffed up all around him, a pillow under his head, another under his feet. No matter what he does, he’s uncomfortable. He desperately wants and needs to fall asleep, but it’s alluding him. His brain won’t shut up.

The room is chilly, and that’s usually what does the trick. Cold room, warm bed, and he’s out like a light.

He picks up his phone and reads your text again.

Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.

If only he could figure out what to say back to you. There are so many things he wants to say, and so few ways he can think of to type it out.

Even if he were to see you face to face, he’d be lost for words. Seungmin is not one to let people in, but he has already let you in.

And now he’s stupidly pushing you away.

He pulls up a photo of you and stares at it. This wasn’t the way he planned on relaxing, but his hand is finding it’s way under his shirt anyway, touching his stomach, slowly moving downward until reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.

Thinking of your one night together, somehow still vivid in his head after all this time, is enough to get him hard. And looking at you…he runs his hand down the length of his cock, grabs tight, and strokes himself slowly. The breath he lets out is shaky. He has to be quiet.

———

“Is he?” You look at her, only slightly defeated. “…just a guy?”

“You slept with him, you should know.”

“He’s not.”

The look she gives you is almost enough to make you rethink what you just said.

“I promise you, beneath everything, he’s like any other guy you’ve dated who got too close, freaked out, and disappeared.”

You shake your head. Then your phone buzzes in your hand, and the feeling makes your heart jump to your throat, and your stomach sink all at once. You don’t immediately move your eyes to the screen—you can’t.

“Was that him?”

Now you look. SM. You nod.

you still want to see me?

You will see him again, and you’ll tell him exactly how you feel.

“What did he say?”

You turn your phone so Choonhee can read the message. She rolls her eyes.

“He sounds like a guy. I’m sorry I got you into this…but, you are going to see him again I assume.”

“Yeah, of course.”

———

It’s not until you’re in bed, hours later, that you open his text in an attempt to answer. But it might be better to do this in the morning, because sending one and waiting for his reply is going to keep you up all night.

You stare anyway, trying to get your thoughts in order; your words, your feelings. Do you want him to know how you really feel now, or when you have him in front of you? Can you even get the right words out when he’s in front of you?

You open your notes app and begin working on a reply.

You know I want to see you, Seungmin. I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but it’s so hard when you’re on my mind every day. I hope you’re getting some rest, and I hope you’re doing well. And I hope I can see you before you leave again.

You fall asleep writing. And in the morning, there he is again. One text message sent at 5am.

I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October, but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse

For a moment, you think you accidentally sent the rough draft of your text in your sleep. You didn’t. This was just him, awake before dawn, finally giving you something sincere. Now you have to rethink your reply.

The typing notification pops up while you’re reading over his message again. Still awake at 6:45.

I remember you telling me you wake up at the same time every morning... Good morning

You feel like crying again. But not like yesterday.

“Good morning” is the best you can come up with this early. He’ll have to wait.

———

Seungmin falls asleep, eventually, but not comfortably.

He gets up from bed to clean himself up, change (he’s warm now, so he opts for less clothes), and hopefully he’ll still be a little bit tired by the time he hits the bed again.

At 4:45am, his body decides he’s had enough. Now he’s awake, eyes still closed, bed far too warm. He throws off the blankets and flips onto his back.

Immediately, and not surprisingly, Seungmin’s thoughts turn to you. You’re sleeping soundly, he hopes, unlike him. He imagines you in the bed he’s never seen; curled up, tucked in. Maybe if he was there with you, he could sleep.

Every time he gets back home, he tries to push himself again, and he fails. He did it in October, and then again in September, right before his birthday. He knows he can’t keep doing this to you.

He pulls out his phone and opens your message thread.

…I hope I get to see you again soon

Seungmin stops thinking and just types:

“I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October…”

He stops and reads it. October. He was busy with the album release, but if he looks back in his messages again, he can count the number of texts he sent on one hand. You sent just as many…well, one more than him. That last message he didn’t even reply to. You must have been fed up with him and his lack of communication. And you had every right to be.

“…but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse.”

This part is true. Seungmin is almost freezing again right now.

“I don’t know how to explain…”

Now he thinks.

“…how all of this is making me feel. Maybe I’m…”

Seungmin backspaces the last sentence before he even finishes it. And then he hits send.

At 6:45, he’s still wide awake. He remembers you telling him your alarm is always set for this time, so he sends one more message.

And you reply. He was right, you were awake. Just a good morning, though. He’s sure it’s far too early for you to deal with his wishy-washy bullshit.

———

When he doesn’t text again by lunch time, you decide he’s waited long enough. And you can’t waste time, really. He might not be in town for long.

“I want to see you, and I will see you. Today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. But I need it to be soon. Neither of us are allowed to be nervous anymore.”

It’s better, you decide, than whatever you wrote last night.

He’s silent as you drift through the rest of the school day (you assume he’s having trouble thinking of a reply to that), and right as the class is gathering their things and leaving, another teacher sneaks in and approaches you. Then you realize it’s not a teacher, but you recognize her. She’s a secretary you’ve spoken to a few times before.

She nods to you and smiles. “I know you’re on your way out, but there’s a visitor for you, a parent who insisted I bring them right to you. It seemed important.”

You have very specific times for parent/teacher visits, and this is not one of them. And there is nobody else who would visit you. You’re confused. “Okay, send them in…I guess.”

You look down at your phone—you doubt it, but maybe you missed a text message or a call. No, nothing.

“Hello.”

The way his voice floats over to you almost knocks you out, and when you turn to meet his eyes, your throat refuses to let you release the air in your lungs.

“Your last text was very insistent. I know this probably is not the best approach…but I haven’t been doing a very good job of anything lately.”

Still you just stare at him, lost for words. You look around your classroom, then down at yourself. This is not how you wanted to see him again, but do you have any room to complain?

He takes a few steps toward you, “was this a bad idea?”

You manage to shake your head and swallow. And then you realize your legs still work, with some effort. Two steps later, your arms wrap around his waist, your face disappears in his sweatshirt, and you squeeze.

His tiny, relieved laugh is music to your ears, and then his hands slide across your back until he’s fully embraced you.

You keep him there for a long time, and he doesn’t protest or try to pull you away. When he does speak again, it’s a question.

“How was your day?”

You slowly release him, but making eye contact is a bit of a challenge. “It’s better now.” So you fall apart when he does show up; no strong words, no looks of disbelief at his absence. You knew this would happen.

“Where can I take you? Home? Or…anywhere you want.”

“Home is good.”

“Okay, there’s a ride waiting for us.” He moves his hands up and over your shoulders, and he rests them on either side of your neck. “I understand if you’re angry with me, and if you stay that way.”

“I am. I don’t want to be.”

Seungmin leans closer, and he moves painfully slow, but eventually he makes it to your mouth. His kiss is light and short, but he keeps going back to peck at your lips, over and over, until you open up and hold him there.

Finally, clear memories of Chicago fill you up. His scent and his touch pull you right back, and you hope he remembers it like you do.

———

It feels like your first date. A quiet car ride, a slow ride up the elevator, an awkward, unsure walk down the hallway to your apartment door. Then walking into your messy living room.

“Are you hungry? I can order something for us,” he says as he’s carefully removing his shoes. “And we can talk while we wait.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll make some coffee.”

Seungmin doesn’t follow you to the kitchen, like he’s done a few times before. Instead, he sits on the couch, situating himself so he can still see you.

You try not to look at him as you work, but you fail, several times. He smiles every time your eyes meet, but it’s a sad smile. It’s not one you’re used to seeing.

“No small talk,” you tell him as you hand him his coffee. “I’ll lose my mind.”

“No small talk.” He nods.

“Where have you been?” You start, staring down at your mug. “Not physically, I know that already. I mean…in every other way.”

“Uhm—“ Seungmin thinks. His face twists a little, probably in confusion. “Where have I…”

“Mentally,” you can’t take your eyes off of him now. “Emotionally.”

“Oh, okay I understand.” He clears his throat, adjusts himself. “It’s been hard to keep my thoughts organized lately. It’s not just that I’ve been busy with work…I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I could’ve fixed it, I’m sure. If I would’ve just talked about things with you a while ago, I probably would have slept easier.”

“I kept you up?”

“Yes. Well, thinking about you. I do think about you, all the time, even if I haven’t kept in touch. But I’ve been over complicating things, I think.”

“Talk to me now. Please.”

You think you can see his cheeks turning pink. His eyes are wide and shiny, but he’s unsure.

“I know, Seungmin…it is hard. It’s been hard for me, and I feel like it’s been a little more difficult for you. I kept everything to myself all this time, up until yesterday.”

He gives you another questioning look.

“Choonhee forced it out of me.”

He nods, sets his coffee down, and swings his legs up on the couch. Something about him making himself more comfortable puts you at ease. You remember him mentioning before that he felt relaxed being here, alone with you. "I don’t feel any pressure here." You hope he still feels that way.

“Tell me what you told her.”

“She did most of the talking.”

“Then what did Choonhee tell you?”

“That you’re just a guy, and I shouldn’t let you get to me like this.”

Seungmin actually nods at that—but he’s not looking you in the eyes now, so maybe he’s just…thinking about it. Or maybe he’s agreeing. You don’t know where this is going yet.

“I am just a guy, she’s right. I don’t want to be just a guy, though. Not to you.”

“Oh…”

“I thought I knew what was going on when we were together in Chicago, and I thought I knew what I wanted. I’ve been thinking all this time that if this couldn’t be a normal, traditional relationship, you would not be happy, not satisfied. And you’d tell me you weren’t interested in me anymore. I thought you would tell me you couldn’t do it.”

You almost interject; tell him that’s never what you expected of him. You wouldn’t never do that. Why didn’t you say that before? Instead, you used the hypothetical “if you weren’t who you are” question on him. You remain quiet, though, hoping he continues.

“…what I’ve been doing isn’t much better than what I’ve been afraid of. But you’re very smart, and I always knew that.”

You just smile at him, waiting for more.

“That’s why you were so worried when you found out who I was. You know this is much more complicated than that.”

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

He’s biting his lip. Tapping his foot. It’s almost touching you, and you want to stretch your leg out until it does, but right as you tell your brain to do it, his leg slides back. He sits up and leans forward, falls to his knees, and crawls across the couch.

Before you can squeak his name out, he’s straddling you, arms on either side of your waist. And then the full weight of his body is on you. Seungmin sets his head down gently against your chest and relaxes.

You freeze for a few seconds. You have fallen asleep on this couch with him before, but this feels like much more.

He doesn’t say anything, not even when you set your hand on his head—rake your fingers through his hair, wrap your other arm around his shoulders. He sighs, though.

When it feels like you’re drifting off to sleep, he finally speaks. It’s muffled against your shirt.

“You just want me, right?”

“What?”

“Even if nobody is allowed to know. And we can’t go out in public, and I have to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Seungmin, I know that we can’t have a normal relationship. I just want you…and to know that you want me.” You say the last part under your breath.

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be better. And that I won’t be afraid to talk to you, and tell you too much.”

“You can tell me whatever you need to.”

“I don’t usually talk much…to anyone.”

It never occurred to you that he didn’t have someone to talk to when he was feeling down, or having a bad day. A bad week. He’s been bottling everything up, just like you have. Maybe for a very long time.

“You can talk to me about your bad days, Minnie, or when you can’t sleep. And about your good days. I would like to be that person.”

“Am I the reason you had a rough day yesterday? Have you had a lot of those?”

“Yeah, I have had a lot of bad days because I missed you.”

“You can tell me about your bad days, too. Even if they were bad because of me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Seungmin laughs, and it shakes your whole body. “Good.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning is almost normal. Your alarm goes off at its regular time—6:45, and you’re tired, which is also normal. The room is chilly, and it’s so warm under the blankets that getting up is nearly impossible. An ordinary morning. The one thing that makes it different is that Seungmin is there when you open your eyes.

The alarm doesn’t even make him stir, but when you finally turn it off, he groans.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to work?” He asks, eyes closed, voice raspy with sleep.

“No, not today. I found someone to cover for me.”

He smiles and reaches his arm toward you, and he feels blindly around where he thinks you might be. “Why are you so far away?”

You move closer and grab his arm, “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

…

Sleep eventually finds both of you again. When you wake back up a few hours later, he’s still there, breathing deeply, melting into your bed. You need to get up, but you wait a little longer. You really don’t want to wake him right now.

When he eventually wakes up on his own, he’ll feel better.

You close your eyes. And again, you fall asleep.

…

Something warm against your forehead wakes you up for a third time. Your eyes open and all you see is skin; Seungmin’s neck, his shoulder. The collar of his shirt is loose enough that you can see the start of his chest.

You pull him closer and push your face into him. He smells good. He smells like sleep and sweat and whatever leftover cologne is still stuck to him from yesterday.

Part of you still wants to keep your guard up. He’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll have to wait and see if his confidence and trust in you remains, and if he’ll really feel comfortable telling you the things he doesn’t tell anyone else.

“I can start,” you say, face still in his chest. You move up toward his neck and set your lips against his skin.

“Start what?”

“After we were together last, in Chicago, and we didn’t…use a condom. I did get a morning after pill, and I took it.”

He pulls you away so he can look at you.

“My period came really late after that, so I thought it didn’t work. And I was really scared. But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell you because we hadn’t talked very much that week, and you didn’t need that on your mind anyway.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that alone.”

“Everything turned out okay.”

“You can talk to me any time you need to, even if I’ve been quiet.”

You nod, and you really want to believe him.

“Too soon for babies.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear him. He has a little smirk on his face, but he’s avoiding eye contact and staring at the little bit of space between you.

“You want them?”

“Hm?” Now he makes eye contact, and his ears are slowly turning red. “Uhm…yes, I always have. Do you?”

Having kids isn’t something you’ve thought about much (aside from the scare you had in July), because you haven’t met anyone you would want to have kids with. Well, until now, because looking at Seungmin and the sweet smile on his face is making you want them immediately. But you know that’s not possible for him.

“With the right person, yeah.”

“I’m sure someday I’ll be able to do that. Have the time to be there, for both of them. You and baby. I couldn’t be gone all the time and leave you alone.”

He stops for a second. You wonder if he’s even hearing himself speak.

“…Seungmin?”

“It was my turn to tell you something personal.” He brings his hands up to his face and rubs his cheeks, then his eyes. “Just in case I’m the right person.”

The conversation feels like too much, too soon. But you like it. He’s only been open with you like this once before: on your second date, when he admitted to being worried you’d like his friends more than him. You thought that was silly then, and now…you’re not sure you could like anyone more than Seungmin.

“…and if I’m your right person.”

Seungmin smiles and hides his face in the pillow.

———

As the day goes on, you wonder how long he’ll be here with you. Every time he looks at a message on his phone, you assume that will be his cue to get going—to start saying goodbye. But he’s still here, and he seems content.

It was his idea to stay, and he insisted on making breakfast.

“What do you normally do on your days off?” is what he asked as you sat and ate.

So it’s been a regular day off, aside from the fact that Seungmin is also here with you…eating, cleaning, sorting laundry, watching tv, and eventually, catching up with schoolwork.

He sits down next to you on the couch when you open your binder and pull out a stack of papers. He watches quietly as you shuffle though them, putting the pages in order before you start to look them over properly.

He picks the next one up before you get to it. “How old are your students again?”

“They are eight…a few are nine.”

“I don’t remember my English classes being this complicated when I was…older than them.”

“You should see their math homework.”

“Oh, I was very good at math!”

“Yeah?” You look at him, give him your full attention. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Not even what’s on the internet?” Seungmin leans back against the couch, and pulls you with him.

“I’ve read a few things. But I’m sure you’re a lot more complicated than your fun facts.”

“I hope so.” He grabs you around the waist, “what were you good at in school?”

“English…” you laugh. “And I did pretty good in my German class, and history.”

“Do you speak German, too?” He’s holding you tight, head resting on your shoulder.

“No, I’ve forgotten almost all of that.”

“Why did you come here, to Korea?

You turn yourself to look at him, disturbing his resting head. But he keeps his arms around you.

“So close to Samseong-Dong?”

“I felt like I needed to start over after I graduated college, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. I actually almost went to Japan.”

“Why didn’t you? Where did you go to college?”

“Northwestern University. And I missed a deadline. Luckily, I already had applications submitted to a few different programs here and nearby.”

“And you chose here?”

Seungmin’s hands wander throughout the entire conversation, stopping when they reach just below where the hem of your shirt hits.

“They chose me.”

“That’s very lucky.” They slide underneath and up your back, “maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

“I’m not sure I believe in things like that.” You move yourself closer to him, until your face is inches from his.

“I don’t either, really. Fate, and soulmates. I’ve been called a…uhm, I don’t remember the English word. A negative person.”

“A pessimist?”

“Yes. Maybe sometimes I am, but…not always. I can be positive. I just like to be realistic.”

“A pragmatist.” You lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm, both of those P words. I did get lucky, though.” He pushes forward, gently coaxing you to your back.

“Was it there before?” You ask. He’s hanging over you, studying your face. “Before Chicago, after I asked if you would date me?“

“Was what there? You mean, did I like you?”

“Yes, but…more than that. Or was it spending the night together?”

“It was before that. That’s why I wanted to spend the night with you.”

You nod, trying hard not to beam up at him. But his hands are on your sides, and his fingertips are moving so delicately over you, you can’t help but smile.

“When was it there for you?”

Your heart starts beating a little faster. You have no answer ready for him except the truth.

“When you gave me Pochacco.”

“On our first date? At the coffee shop?”

You throw your hands over your face and nod, “yeah, at the coffee shop.”

“I felt kind of silly giving him to you, I thought you would think it was silly, too.” He pulls your hands away so he can see your face again.

“It wasn’t.”

“So PuppyM wasn’t silly either?”

“No, I love him. And your denim jacket you left, that’s hanging on my bedpost. I love all of your gifts.”

“Oh, I forgot about that jacket!”Seungmin comes down and settles himself against you, face in your neck, hands wondering more.

“You can have it back, if you want.”

“No, you keep it. But I do need something of yours to keep with me.” His hands slide under your shirt and across your stomach. He tickles your side again, then stops when he reaches your hip.

You’re surprised at his restraint.

“I’m sure I have something for you.” You set your hand over his and slide it up his arm. Then back down.

His fingers twitch and push under your shorts. As ready as you were, and as much as you wanted him to make that move, your breath still catches in your throat.

He props himself up with his other arm and looks at you. His fingers touch lightly over your underwear, taking his time, getting himself where he needs to be.

But you’re not taking your time. And it’s Seungmin touching you, so your body is already on fire. You push your hips up and push his hand harder against you.

His fingers slide up and sneak beneath the fabric. He moves slowly, and he’s watching you carefully, as if you might protest.

But of course you don’t. You grip his arm and slide your hand from his bicep down to his wrist, moving with him as his fingers slip inside of you.

“Am I doing okay?” He leans closer and whispers. He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling out and sliding back over your clit, making you choke on your answer.

You manage a shaky mhm and Seungmin giggles into your ear. His fingers stay put, making soft circles around you, keeping his touch as delicate as possible. Then he takes them off again, and he pushes back inside.

The reach of is fingers is enough to hit just the right spot, and when you jump from the pressure, he does it again and again until he gets a moan out of you.

You lift your hips into his touch and pull him down for a kiss. Your grip on his arm tightens and he eases up, but barely. His mouth is working its way across your neck now, leaving you free to moan.

“Do you do this a lot?” He says as he nibbles across your ear and cheek. When he gets to your lips, he hangs above you and holds your gaze. His thumb slides over your clit again, like he wanted to remind you of what he was talking about.

“Uhh…hmm?” You slide your hand up and grab a handful of his hair. “Yes.” You laugh and knead your fingertips into his scalp—it makes his eyes roll back. He’s in your neck again, savoring his little massage.

“Do you think about me when you do it?”

His question sends another wave of pleasure through you. His fingers slip inside again, pressing hard. His thumb is on your clit, wet and sliding easily and hitting everywhere you need it to.

There’s hot, heavy breathing in your ear, and a sweet whisper, “do you think about me, hm?”

“Every time,” your climax hits fast, and Seungmin knows he’s succeeded by the way you’re pulling at his hair.

He holds himself up just enough to watch you squirm beneath him. His touch softens even more as you start to relax, and when you stop and stare up at him, he comes down and kisses across your forehead and down the side of your face. He lets you catch your breath before moving to your lips.

“Really?” Seungmin blushes and tries to stifle his laugh in your neck.

You nod slowly, “that was…very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Too good, maybe.”

“I did some research.”

“You did not.” But when you think about it for a second, it does seem like something Seungmin would do. “Did you?”

“Just a little. In case I’d get to try it out on you someday.”

———

Seungmin looks carefully across your desk, touching the books stacked there, the loose sheets of composition paper, the notes and pencils. He sits in your chair and opens the drawer—inside are a few notebooks, all used and full. He shuffles things around a little, searching every inch.

Now he gets up and moves to your bookshelf. It’s more of a trinket shelf, though. Seungmin only runs his eyes over this, until he catches sight of a snow globe. He picks that up and shakes it. Inside is the Chicago skyline.

He stares at it for a long moment, then returns it to his spot. His attention turns to you, on the bed.

You just smile at him. He keeps looking around.

The next stop is your bedside table. You sit up when he sits down on the edge of the bed, run your hand down his back. As soon as he opens it, he whispers an ooh, and reaches inside.

“What did you find?” You laugh.

“Me,” he holds up three photocards with his face on them.

You take them from him and fall back on the bed, “you”, and look deeply at paper Seungmin.

“Hey, I’m right here…” he pushes your hand away and bends down to kiss you. “Real me.”

The next thing pulled from the drawer is a journal. He looks it over, but doesn’t open it.

“That’s you, too.”

Seungmin points to it, and his head tilts, “this is me?”

“Yeah, almost every page.”

His face goes from confusion to understanding, and then it falls a little.

“You should add one more page.”

“I will.”

The journal goes back in, and then his fingers close around something small. When he pulls it out, it catches the light and throws a reflection across the room.

“Oh, I haven’t worn this since last time.” You sit up and Seungmin hands you the bracelet. It’s only a tiny gold chain, but at the very end of it is a star charm.

“This.” He says, and he watches as you unclasp it, wrap it around his wrist, and close it again.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

An hour after Seungmin left your house the last time, he sent you a text that just said “I’m home”. That was a first, and it felt like a good omen. But only time would tell. He never really had a good start with keeping in touch.

But he also said goodnight. And then he said good morning. And sometimes he called just to tell you instead of texting.

Actually, this morning, almost two months later, he called early in the morning, when you were still asleep. You caught his name on the lock screen before you picked up, but you still lacked the energy for anything more than a groggy morning Min.

Luckily, he can make up in enthusiasm what you lack some days.

“I’m sorry, you’re still asleep,” he whispers.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just being lazy. What are you up to this morning?” You also caught sight of the time before answering: 10am, way too late for you to sleep in.

“Catching a flight home, from Thailand. Waiting around.” Now you can hear the sleep still lingering in his voice.

“Oh right. I forgot you were there…I did see some photos. You looked very handsome in your safety glasses.”

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I was calling to…uhm, say good morning, and also to see if you would be home tonight.”

“Minnie, I’m always home.”

“That’s true, but it would still be rude to just show up unannounced.”

“I give you permission to show up unannounced.”

“Can I have a key, too? Oh, that reminds me…uuh, well, actually I’ll just talk to you about it later.”

“Okay, don’t forget. And yes you can have a key.”

———

This is the first time you’re not nervous about Seungmin coming over. Well, not as nervous as you typically would be. You’re still a little on edge—a little worried about how you look and about how your food is going to taste.

He didn’t mention anything about coming over hungry, but you’re taking the initiative anyway. If anything, he’ll have something to take home with him.

A soft knock at the door. You know his soft, steady knock, and you never have any other visitors, so it’s him. But for some reason you stand there stupidly, not moving, not saying anything, because you know it’s really him on the other side of your door.

Finally, after a few seconds, you take a breath. “It’s open.”

The door swings open.

“Hi,” Seungmin closes it quietly, takes off his shoes and looks at you from across the room. “It smells very good in here.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten so…”

“No, nothing since lunch.” He takes a few long strides toward you. Big blue sweatshirt, matching sweatpants, a big smile. “So I’m very hungry,” he embraces you and squeezes you tight against his chest. “How have you been?” He relaxes, but he doesn’t let you free.

“I’ve been okay...I’ve been good.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit around Christmas—oh!” He bends down and kisses you.

He kisses for a long time—long enough that you think you might end up in bed before you even eat dinner. But he slows down, and then releases you.

“Happy new year! A little late.” He comes down again for one more kiss, and then makes his way to the kitchen. “What did you make? Something American? It smells like something American.”

“Yes. It’s very American.”

“Should we eat first, or talk?”

“I’m sure we can manage both.”

———

The two of you stare at each other from across your tiny kitchen table. Seungmin sips his tea. You just watch and wait, because this is his conversation.

“Do you want me to start? Something about you having a key to my apartment?”

“Ah, yeah. Yes, I should have a key, but I was thinking of a different apartment.”

“Oh, like yours? No, you don’t have an apartment. Or do you?” You lean a little closer, “secret apartment?”

“No, no secret apartment,” he laughs. “But I thought it would be nice if you lived closer. Closer to the city, and closer to me.”

“That would be nice, but I’m not sure something closer is in my budget.”

“I know,” Seungmin smiles—there’s always something so clever and knowing about his smile. “I figured you might say that. I could help.”

“You want to help me with rent? Expensive rent. That’s kind of serious.”

“I do! It is serious. I am serious.”

“You are?” You sit back in your chair and study his face. He’s still smiling and nodding at you.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for…almost two months. And I found somewhere I think would fit very well.”

“Closer to you?”

“Much closer. I could walk to you.”

You’re thinking, but you’re not really thinking. The obvious answer to this is yes, even though it’s hard to just come out and say it. The idea of someone else helping with rent, or helping with anything, is foreign to you. “I would like to be closer to you.”

Seungmin looks at his phone, pulls something up on it, and then slides it to you across the table. “How is something like this?”

You trust Seungmin’s taste and judgement, but you still want to look it over thoroughly. Distance, yes, but also the size, the layout. And you do not have enough windows in this apartment. You’d like more windows. If he’s as serious as he looks, it might as well be worth whatever money you’re both going to put into it.

“How about this one?” You pull up a different listing.

He looks it over, “still very close. Oh, two bedrooms. Maybe the extra space would be nice.”

“It is a little more, sorry (Seungmin shakes his head when you say that), but it has a bathtub instead of just a walk-in shower. And it’s own laundry.”

He laughs, “I could do my laundry faster if I bring it with me. And the kitchen is nicer.”

“I miss having a bathtub.” You hand him his phone back. “But are you sure this isn’t too much? I know you said you were serious—“

“I am…I want you to know that I’m very serious. I think this is a good way to show you. And it’s also very practical.”

“You seemed so unsure before. I just want you to be…good. I want both of us to be good.”

“I’m very good.”

“This is a little crazy, isn’t it? All of this.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll call about it tomorrow.”

“No, I can. Let me do that, at least.”

———

“Minnie?”

Mmhm?

You sat on the couch after dinner, and it didn’t take much time before he had you on your back. He lifts your shirt as far as this position will allow, letting his fingers dance over you—making you squirm a little from how soft his touch is.

Forming the words you want to say is much harder than you thought. They’re dancing around in your head; you’re moving them back and forth, but every way it comes together feels like too much or not enough. Maybe right now just isn’t he time.

“What’s wrong?”

You pull your shorts down, open your legs for him, then shake your head. “Nothing.”

Seungmin reaches down and feels you, slips his fingers inside, then slowly pulls them back out. He smiles against your mouth and pushes in again, just to feel how wet you are. “Are we okay here…are you comfortable?” He asks sweetly. His fingers are still inside, moving delicately.

You nod, but suddenly you remember that you are not good, and you’re not ready. “Shit, no we’re not good. We need a condom this time.”

“Oh right, we should be safe. Tell me where they are,” he adjusts his sweatpants and very carefully lifts himself off of you.”

“In my black bag, under my bed.”

You listen as he slides it out and digs around. The contents of that bag are a mystery, but the condoms you bought back in Chicago, both boxes, have to be in there still. You’re not that bad at unpacking, but if it’s something you don’t use, you’re definitely going to forget I’m about it under there forever.

When he comes back in, he has one in each hand.

“I’m….not sure which one is for me.” His voice seems a little dejected. He’s looking down at them as he approaches you.

“Oh Minnie, they were both for you. I bought these a while ago, when I didn’t know which would fit you better.”

“Oh,” he finally makes eyes contact again. His face softens a little. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, come here.” You spread your legs again and wait for him, “I’ll put it on for you.”

He crawls back onto the couch, settles between your legs, and opens both hands, palms up, in front of you.

You take the right one and rip it open. Seungmin looks like his mind is suddenly full. His eyes are big and soft.

“Min, what’s on your mind?”

His hands are already on his sweatpants, pulling them down his hips.

“You are.”

You touch him, slide your fingertips down, and then back up. The condom goes on easily. “Does it feel okay?”

He nods and adjusts, makes himself comfortable, and lifts your legs until he has more room. He pushes in a halfway, then leans over until you’re almost nose to nose.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?” He sets his forehead against yours.

“There’s only you.”

“Just me?” He pushes his nose into yours, “only me?” Pecks at your lips.

“Just us.”

“Only us.” Seungmin pushes the rest of the way in, waits a moment, then begins to fuck you slowly and deeply, “you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear as he drags his lips over it.

It takes you a second to pull yourself together. Each thrust sends you upward and knocks the breath out of you, but you manage a nod.

“Tell me,” he quickens his pace. The couch shakes the end table, and you can hear the clatter of things falling to the floor. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

It comes out shaky, and it’s not good enough for you. But Seungmin is still smiling. You try again

“I’m yours,” you grab the back of his neck and hold him still, “I only love you.” Your hand grabs hair and pulls—lips close on his before he has a chance to speak.

But he sighs into the kiss. He slows down, and it feels like he’s melting into you more and more with each thrust. What little skin is exposed between the two of you slides together, damp with sweat, and Seungmin kisses every part of you he can get to in the position he’s in.

He tries to get rid of your shirt, but he can’t stop, and he has to stop to make any progress—so you clumsily lift it, and your bra, until you’re free.

His hand slides up your ribs and his fingers graze over you, but for now he just watches how he’s making your body move under him. He seems hypnotized, but eventually he blinks, and then his eyes are fixed on yours again.

The room is quiet—no ambient noise from the tv, no music, nothing. The only sounds are the heavy breaths and soft moans you’re sharing. The condom is slowing him down, keeping him here much longer, and everything feels good in this position; good enough that you’d be satisfied staying like this as long he needs it.

He made you come last time, and now you want to do the same for him.

You lift him off of you until you can see him better.

He looks you in the eyes again, satisfied and smiling. “You feel so good,” he’s back down again, mouth on your chest, kissing down until he can close his lips around your nipple. He licks and works his way back up, stopping at your throat and staying there, his warm breath hitting you. “You love me?”

Your heart jumps. It was already racing, but now you feel it everywhere. In your throat, your chest, your head. You don’t think you’ve ever told anyone that before; not so soon. It’s been a year, but tonight is only the sixth time you’ve seen him and touched him. Everything else has been texts, phone calls, video calls.

It doesn’t matter. You said it because it felt right, and it still feels right.

“Yes.”

Seungmin slows his pace. His exhales turns into a string of soft, dulcet moans. He lifts himself upright and holds your hips as he rolls into you. He comes quietly. You wouldn’t have even realized if you weren’t looking right him.

The satisfied look on his face makes your stomach swirl. You watch Seungmin smile before your eyes close, and you can hear him whisper something to you while you’re coming down from your own high.

He pulls out and carefully brings your legs together.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything, love.” He sits you up next to him and pulls your t-shirt over your head, “I was just…” he pulls you close, “nothing, it’s not important right now.”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

———

It’s been a long six weeks. You’re a little stressed out, but you’ve been holding yourself together very well, you think.

This apartment has been your only home for more than three years, so packing your things up and preparing to leave has been a little bit emotional. Almost everything is out of here and all that’s left are a few things you’re taking along on the last car ride.

Before this, everything was moving in slow motion and it was killing you. Now, it won’t slow down. You’re happy, and you’re grateful for everything that Seungmin has done for you…and it’s still sometimes hard to believe he’s doing it all just for you. But it’s so much all at once.

He told you he would stay tonight—your first night there. You haven’t received a text telling you otherwise, so you’re hoping he will be there when you arrive. You do have to remember that you’ll be there alone most of the time, though.

Some things will remain the same.

———

The elevator ride up is long, and you think back to you and Seungmin—your first date, bringing him home with you to your 5th floor apartment, thirty minutes out of the way, just to have him to yourself.

That was probably a good indication that he liked you. You just didn't realize it at the time.

You finally stop at the 17th floor.

The original apartment you looked at was unavailable when you called the next morning, so Seungmin insisted on taking everything into his own hands while you were at work. He knew what you were looking for, but he went overboard.

This apartment has the windows, the bathtub, and laundry room, but it also has double the space—and three bedrooms. When you asked what you were supposed to do with all of the extra room, Seungmin shrugged and said we’ll figure something out.

You don’t even own enough to fill up half of it. Everything that required any sort of muscle; the bed, the living room furniture, it all stayed behind. Most of the things in this apartment are new, or they will be new.

Before you have a chance to explore any further than the kitchen, you hear a very faint, soft knock on the door. You know it’s him and you run to open it, but he punches in a code on the doorknob, turns it, and peeks in before you get there.

“I tried to beat you here.” He smiles.

“You almost did.“

He closes the space between you and pulls you into a hug. “How was your day? Did the movers get everything here?”

“It was alright, and…I think so, but I haven’t gotten any further than this.”

“Just alright? I know it’s been a lot lately.”

“I’m better now that I’m here, and you’re here.” You take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, “let me see, smile.”

Seungmin smiles widely and dramatically, and then bends down to kiss you. “How do I look?”

You pull him back for another one, “still handsome.”

He picks up the bags he walked in with and sets them on the kitchen chair. “I brought us dinner, and a few things to make you feel more at home.” Seungmin is pulling the food out of the bag, piece by piece. “So you didn’t see the bedroom yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

He shakes his head and smiles, “we’ll see it later.”

“What did you bring me?”

“Oh, let’s see!” He starts digging in the other bag.

You watch as he carefully places an assortment of things along side the food. There’s a candle, two candles, a small picture frame, but you can’t see the photo from where you’re standing. A stuffed dog. Another stuffed dog. One of them is Pochacco, the other is a mystery, but he does look familiar.

“That’s all for now but I do have more stuff to bring.”

“Well, we have plenty of space to fill.”

He beams at you, grabs one of the stuffed dogs, and pulls you against him. “This wasn’t mine, but I have one just like it.”

“I like him, he looks like you.”

Seungmin laughs and looks at Daengmo, “yes, he kind of does.”

———

When the sun goes down, and you’re both full and relaxing, you begin to feel even more nostalgic for the conversations you had and the memories you made with him at your old place, on your old couch. You have to work on new memories now.

He’s facing you on the new couch, eyes closed, slow, steady breaths. The flicker of the tv is hitting his face, making his cheek and the soft brown of his hair glow.

Very slowly, you reach your foot out and touch his.

Seungmin’s eyes open, and he gives you a sleepy smile, “how was dinner?”

“Good.” You sit up and move closer to him, “we should go to bed while you’re still sleepy.”

He groans and shrugs his shoulders.

“We gotta go see the bedroom, remember?” You grab his hand and pull a little, and he immediately gives in.

The bedroom is warm and cozy, like it’s already been lived in. You know Seungmin came in at some point and made it this way; the curtains are pulled, the soft amber lights are clicked on, and one of the candles he brought is lit on the bedside table. Both of the stuffed dogs he brought, and your PuppyM, are already laying on top of the pillows.

The bed is made, but not too made. The blankets are loose and fluffed up, ready to crawl into.

“How does it look?” He sounds a little more awake now.

“It looks perfect, come on.”

He shakes his head, “If we don’t brush our teeth now, we will never get back up to do it.” He smiles and kisses you softly.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

———

The lights are off, the candle is out. Seungmin is facing you in bed.

“Are you awake? Did you lose your sleepy?”

“A little.”

He scoots closer until his arm can drape over you. The bedroom is bigger, and the bed is bigger, too. You’re sharing one side just to be close to each other.

“It will come back soon.”

You set your forehead against his chest and feel it move steadily with each breath. It's quiet for a long time, and now sleep is really escaping you. You should be able to relax like this; you’ve shared a bed with him a few times before, and you haven’t slept as well since. And you’re tired—too tired. Maybe too exhausted for sleep.

You wonder if he’s awake, or if he’s quiet because he thinks you’ve finally drifted off.

You run your hand gently over his arm, waiting for a reaction. At first, he doesn’t make a move or a sound, but when you slide your hand back up, he moves his leg against yours.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispers

“Did I wake you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Then no, I can’t sleep.” You prop yourself up on one arm and look down at him. It’s dark, but you can just make out the details of his face.

He flips onto his back and pulls the covers away. “Are you uncomfortable?” Seungmin asks and places his hand on your cheek. He’s warm, his eyes are warm. His mouth parts slowly and turns into a smile. It’s a tired smile. “New bed.”

“New everything.”

“Except for me.”

Your hand closes around his, then you turn your head to place a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “Thank you for being here. I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

Seungmin pulls you down on top of him. His face is in your neck, kissing playfully and lazily, but the way his hands are exploring you is anything but lazy.

“You’re cold,” he stops, wraps his arms around your waist, and holds you there. “You need to be warmed up.”

You get your hands underneath his shirt, “you’re warm enough for both of us.”

“I can share.”

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Yes, I would love that,” he laughs softly and disappears in your neck again.

The stupid question bounces around in your head. His warm lips on you are starting to make your head fuzzy, and you wonder if you should just forget it. But now he’ll get it out of you somehow.

“Will you sing for me?”

He pulls back to look at you. Seungmin’s face lights up. It could light up the entire room. “You want me to sing for you?” If he was sleepy at all before, he’s not now. You’ve managed to wake him the rest of the way with a simple, stupid, request. But it wasn’t stupid at all.

“I always have, it just never seemed like a good time.”

“Right now? Should I sing now? Maybe it’s too quiet, and the walls might not be very thick.”

“In the morning?”

He nods, “yes, I’ll sing for you in the morning. What should I sing?”

“Surprise me.”

“We talked about singing together before, remember?”

“I remember,” you wrap around him and pull the covers back up in an attempt to get him sleepy again. “But I’d rather just hear you.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[libraryraccoon]

Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).

But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.

Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).

Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.

( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.

TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.

General Headcanon

In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.

But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.

The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.

You are now in Hell.

Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)

Vox didn't like you. Like, really.

He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.

Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.

You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.

So yes, he didn't like you.

He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..

It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !

A violent police officer. This is what you were.

You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.

Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.

Alastor find you entertained.

You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.

He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.

He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.

Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.

When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..

Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.

Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.

Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.

Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP

You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.

But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).

Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.

You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.

Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-

After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.

Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.

After that Vox received a little visit from you..

If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.

Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.

Angel Dust adores you.

Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..

Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.

Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.

Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.

Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.

You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.

Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.

Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.

You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.

You had to play therapist and friend.

Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.

You don't even have a degree in therapy.

Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.

Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-

Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.

You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.

I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.

Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.

[armoricaroyalty]

Film Grammar for Simmers

What is film grammar?

"Film grammar" refers the unstated "rules" of editing used in movies and TV. Different types of shots have different associations and are used by editors to convey different types of information to the audience. Many of these principles were first described in the early 20th century by Soviet directors, but they're used consistently across genre, medium, and even language: Bollywood musicals, English period dramas, Korean horror movies, and American action blockbusters all use many of the same techniques.

Because these rules are so universal, virtually everyone has some internalized understanding of them. Even if they can’t name the different types of shots or explain how editors use images to construct meaning, the average person can tell when the “rules” are being broken. If you’ve ever thought a movie or episode of TV was confusing without being able to say why, there’s a good chance that there was something off with the editing.

Learning and applying the basics of film grammar can give your story a slicker and more-polished feel, without having to download shaders or spend hours in photoshop. It also has the bonus of enhancing readability by allowing your audience to use their knowledge of film and TV to understand what's happening in your story. You can use it to call attention to significant plot details and avoid introducing confusion through unclear visual language.

Best of all, it doesn't cost a dime.

The basics: types of shots

Shots are the basic building block of film. In Sims storytelling, a single shot is analogous to a single screenshot. In film, different types of shots are distinguished by the position of the camera relative to the subject. There are three big categories of shots, with some variation: long shots (LS), medium shots (MS), and close-ups (CU). This diagram, created by Daniel Chandler and hosted on visual-memory.co.uk illustrates the difference:

Source: The 'Grammar' of Television and Film, Daniel Chandler, visual-memory.co.uk. Link.

In film, scenes typically progress through the different types of shots in sequence: long shot, medium shot, close-up. When a new scene begins and the characters arrive in a new location, we typically begin with a wide establishing shot of the building’s exterior to show the audience where the scene will be taking place. Next comes a long shot of an interior space, which tells the where the characters are positioned relative to one another. The next shot is a medium shot of the characters conversing, and then finally, a close-up as the conversation reaches its emotional or informational climax. Insert shots are used judiciously throughout to establish themes or offer visual exposition.

Here's another visual guide to the different types of shots, illustrated with stills from Disney animated films.

This guide is almost 2,000 words long! To save your dash, I've put the meat of it under the cut.

Long shot and extreme long shots

A long shot (sometimes also called a wide shot) is one where the entire subject (usually a building, person, or group of people) is visible within the frame. The camera is positioned far away from the subject, prioritizing the details of the background over the details of the subject.

One of the most common uses of long shots and extreme long shots are establishing shots. An establishing shot is the first shot in a scene, and it sets the tone for the scene and is intended to give the viewer the information they’ll need to follow the scene: where a scene is taking place, who is in the scene, and where they are positioned in relation to one another. Without an establishing shot, a scene can feel ungrounded or “floaty.” Readers will have a harder time understanding what’s happening in the scene because on some level, they’ll be trying to puzzle out the answers to the who and where questions, distracting them from the most important questions: what is happening and why?

(I actually like to start my scenes with two establishing shots: an environmental shot focusing on the scenery, and then a second shot that establishes the characters and their position within the space.)

Long shots and extreme long shots have other uses, as well. Because the subject is small relative to their surroundings, they have an impersonal effect which can be used for comedy or tragedy.

In Fargo (1996) uses an extreme long shot to visually illustrate the main character’s sense of defeat after failing to secure funding for a business deal.The shot begins with a car in an empty parking lot, and then we see the protagonist make his way up from the bottom of the frame. He is alone in the shot, he is small, and the camera is positioned above him, looking down from a god-like perspective. All of these factors work together to convey his emotional state: he’s small, he’s alone, and in this moment, we are literally looking down on him. This shot effectively conveys how powerless he feels without any dialogue or even showing his face.

The same impersonal effect can also be used for comic purposes. If a character says something stupid or fails to impress other characters, cutting directly from a close-up to a long shot has a visual effect akin to chirping crickets. In this instance, a long shot serves as a visual “wait, what?” and invites the audience to laugh at the character rather than with them.

Medium Shots

Medium shots are “neutral” in filmmaking. Long shots and close-ups convey special meaning in their choice to focus on either the subject or the background, but a medium shot is balanced, giving equal focus to the character and their surroundings. In a medium shot, the character takes up 50% of the frame. They’re typically depicted from the waist-up and the audience can see both their face and hands, allowing the audience to see the character's facial expression and read their body-language, both important for interpreting meaning.

In most movies and TV shows, medium shots are the bread and butter of dialogue-heavy scenes, with close-ups, long shots, and inserts used for punctuation and emphasis. If you’re closely following the conventions of filmmaking, most of your dialogue scenes will be medium shots following the convention of shot-reverse shot:

To keep long conversations from feeling too visually monotonous, consider staging the scene as a walk-and-talk. Having two characters move through a space can add a lot of dynamism and visual interest to a scene that might otherwise feel boring or stiff.

Close Ups

Close-ups are close shots of a character’s face. The camera is positioned relatively near to the subject, showing just their head and shoulders. In a close-up, we don’t see any details of the background or the expressions of other characters.

In film, close-ups are used for emphasis. If a character is experiencing a strong emotion or delivering an important line of dialogue, a close-up underscores the importance of the moment by inviting the audience to focus only on the character and their emotion.

Close-ups don’t necessarily need to focus on the speaker. If the important thing about a line of dialogue is another character’s reaction to it, a close-up of the reaction is more effective than a close-up of the delivery.

One of the most iconic shots in Parasite (2019) is of the protagonist driving his employer around while she sits in the backseat, speaking on the phone. Even though she’s the one speaking, the details of her conversation matter less than the protagonist’s reaction to it. While she chatters obliviously in the background, we focus on the protagonist’s disgruntled, resentful response to her thoughtless words and behavior.

In my opinion, Simblr really overuses close-ups in dialogue. A lot of conversation scenes are framed entirely in close-ups, which has the same effect of highlighting an entire page in a textbook. The reader can’t actually tell what information is important, because the visuals are screaming that everything is important. Overusing close-ups also cuts the viewer off from the character’s body language and prevents them from learning anything about the character via their surroundings.

For example, a scene set in someone’s bedroom is a great opportunity for some subtle characterization—is it tidy or messy? what kind of decor have they chosen? do they have a gaming computer, a guitar, an overflowing bookshelf?—but if the author chooses to use only close-ups, we lose out on a chance to get to know the character via indirect means.

Inserts

An insert shot is when a shot of something other than a character’s face is inserted into a scene. Often, inserts are close-ups of a character’s hands or an object in the background. Insert shots can also be used to show us what a character is looking at or focusing on.

In rom-com The Prince & Me (2004) (see? I don’t just watch crime dramas…) the male lead is in an important meeting. We see him pick up a pen, look down at the papers in front of him, and apparently begin taking notes, but then we cut to an insert shot of his information packet. He’s doodling pictures of sports cars and is entirely disengaged from the conversation. Every other shot in the scene is an establishing shot or a medium shot or a close-up of someone speaking, but this insert gives us insight into the lead’s state of mind: he doesn’t want to be there and he isn’t paying attention.

Insert shots are, in my opinion, also used ineffectively on Simblr. A good insert gives us extra insight into what a character is thinking or focusing on, but a poorly-used insert feels…unfocused. A good insert might focus on pill bottles on a character’s desk to suggest a chemical dependency, on a family picture to suggest duty and loyalty, on a clock to suggest a time constraint, on a pile of dirty laundry or unanswered letters to suggest a character is struggling to keep up with their responsibilities. An ineffective insert shot might focus on the flowers in the background because they’re pretty, on a character’s hands because it seems artsy, on the place settings on a dining table because you spent forever placing each one individually and you’ll be damned if they don’t make it into the scene. These things might be lovely and they might break up a monotonous conversation and they might represent a lot of time and effort, but if they don’t contribute any meaning to a scene, consider cutting or repurposing them.

I want to emphasize: insert shots aren’t bad, but they should be carefully chosen to ensure they’re enhancing the meaning of the scene. Haphazard insert shots are distracting and can interfere with your reader’s ability to understand what is happening and why.

Putting it all together

One of the most basic principles of film theory is the Kuleshov effect, the idea that meaning in film comes from the interaction of two shots in sequence, and not from any single shot by itself. In the prototypical example, cutting from a close-up of a person’s neutral expression to a bowl of soup, children playing, or soldiers in a field suggests hunger, worry, or fear, respectively.

The Kuleshov effect is the essence of visual storytelling in a medium like Simblr. You can elevate your storytelling by thinking not only about each individual shot, but about the way they’ll interact and flow into one another.

Mastering the basics of film grammar is a great (free!) way to take your storytelling to the next level. To learn more, you can find tons of guides and explainers about film grammar for free online, and your local library doubtless has books that explain the same principles and offers additional analysis.

Happy simming!