#we were supposed to go to a RAVE

[metaphysicae]

so we started a new campaign! it’s a custom system my partner built and to say i have been obsessed is an understatement.

[snekdood]

i think my problem with other ppl who claim to possibly have native american ancestry but dont know is when they dont seem to treat it like as if it could *actually* be true and just treat it like "yeah im a spicy white person" dshdfshjv? idk if that makes sense, like they dont do the internal work of deconstructing racism around native people, they dont start listening to native ppl- its more or less used as either an excuse for appropriation or just to seem more "exotic".

[wishingprince]

This convention has been absolutely bonkers in bad ways but also in a LOT of good ones, very excited for tonight though and that I took off work tomorrow because I am completely beat and I need rest. Six days until my tattoo!

[alisonsfics]

his little superstar

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: you’re a local singer in chicago. the bear crew ends up at one of your shows, and carmy is absolutely speechless the moment he lays eyes on you.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: awkward and bashful carmy that will make you MELT

“Do we really have to go to this thing?” Carmy complained. He had been convinced forced to go out to a bar by his friends. “C’mon, you need to get out. You spend too much in the kitchen screaming at us.” Richie added. So, that was how he ended up in a line outside a bar with Richie, Sydney, Marcus, Natalie, and Pete.

“Isn’t there supposed to be some singer here tonight?” Sydney asked, looking over at Nat.

“Oh, yeah. I think I saw a poster that said that. I saw her here last week. This friend from high school invited me for her birthday. She was really good though. Her songs were great.” Nat started to tell Sydney.

Carmy started to zone out, thinking about all the other places in the world he could be. Once every month, Richie made an effort to drag Carmy to some party or bar. If not, Carmy wouldn’t get out at all. If Carmy had it his way, he’d basically live at the restaurant.

When they finally made it inside the bar, Carmy rushed to the bar to order a drink. He’d barely gotten his drink when Nat and Sydney pulled him over to a high-top table that they found. He was already mentally doing the math on how long he needed to stay before he could leave early.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Nat start cheering. He looked over his shoulder and saw you walk onto the stage. The last thing he was thinking about was leaving early.

He didn’t know what he expected, but you weren’t it. You caught him by surprise, and he felt a smile slowly start to form.

Carmy didn’t realize his mouth was hanging open until Richie elbowed him in the side. “Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.” Richie teased, noticing the way that Carmy was drooling over you.

“Oh shut up,” Carmy said, rolling his eyes at Richie.

Throughout the show, you made eye contact with Carmy a few times. Every time you met his gaze his cheeks instantly turned bright red.

He stuck out to you.

Most people were drinking and chatting with their friends, blissfully ignoring your presence. Some were silently swaying to the music. Not Carmy. He had his eyes glued to you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t playfully bat your eyelashes at him during some of the more flirtatious lyrics you sang.

After you finished your last song, you winked at Carmy before thanking the crowd and leaving the stage.

“Carmy’s got a crush.” Nat said in a singsong voice. Carmy’s cheeks were bright red. Richie slung his arm around Carmy’s shoulders. “Oh, you totally do, cousin,” Richie said, laughing at Carmy’s embarrassment.

“You all are children. I hope you know that.” Carmy said, pulling away from Richie and heading out the front door. He walked outside the bar and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.

He quickly lit one and tried to distract himself from the nagging that was waiting for him when he went back inside.

The stage door beside him swung open, causing him to jump backwards. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be out here.” The voice quickly apologized.

Carmy looked up and realized it was you. Every coherent thought left his brain. When Carmy realized he hadn’t replied, it was too late to say anything.

You noticed how timid he was. His eyes were glued to the ground, and he hadn’t said a word. “So, did you like the show? I saw you in there.” You asked him, as though he wasn’t overly aware that you’d been watching him all night.

“Oh yeah yeah— it was good. I mean…just wow, you were great.” Carmy said, quickly mumbling through the words.

He was too busy avoiding eye contact to notice the smile on your face. You definitely thought Carmy was cute.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten such a raving review before.” You playfully teased him. Carmy finally looked up at you. He was partly shocked he hadn’t scared you away yet.

“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly. You took a step closer to Carmy, testing the waters. He didn’t move away. “Don’t be. It’s cute,” you said, subconsciously twirling your hair around your finger.

Carmy felt like his skin was on fire. You were looking at him. He felt like all of a sudden he couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said, sticking your hand out. He quickly switched his cigarette into the other hand, so he could shake your hand. “I’m Carmy.” He said, giving you a small smile.

“Oh, shit. You’re the guy. The Bear guy.” You said, remembering seeing his name in a newspaper. If it was possible, he started blushing even more. “Yep, that’s me. Have you been? To the restaurant, I mean,” he asked you.

He started worrying about the possibility of you having already gone to the restaurant and seeing him in one of his arguments with Richie.

“No, I haven’t had the chance yet. I don’t know a lot about food. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to truly appreciate it, but maybe if I had someone to teach me and explain it to me…” you suggested, giving Carmy a smile.

His jaw dropped, and his cigarette almost fell out of his lips. “Wait…me?” He asked, feeling like he was definitely in a dream. You giggled at his shock. “I mean, you are the chef.” You said, nudging him.

“Just to be clear, like a date?” He asked.

“That’s up to you, Romeo,” you said, brushing a piece of his hair behind his ear. You watched him shiver as you touched him.

“Can I umm…get your number?” He nervously asked you. You quickly grabbed a pen out of your purse. “Took you long enough,” you said, giggling at him.

You grabbed his hand and quickly scribbled your number on the back of his hand. He stared at it for a few seconds. Carmy was having trouble processing any of this conversation.

“You’re really pretty.” Carmy said, feeling a bit braver but not a lot.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet. You’re also very pretty.” You said, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

Carmy dropped his cigarette and stomped on it. “I should probably go back in. I don’t want to keep you.” He said, starting to walk back towards the front door.

“Hang on a second, pretty boy,” you called after him, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around to face you, confused and nervous. “You forgot something.” You said, taking a few steps towards him.

He instantly checked his pockets. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in to kiss you. It took him a second to kiss you back, having to process his initial shock. Once he kissed you back, he was still too nervous to touch you.

“I’m not going to break, I promise,” you teased him. You grabbed both his hands and moved them to wrap around your waist. He tightly held onto your waist and didn’t let go. You pulled him back into the kiss, letting your fingers run through his hair. He lightly hummed against the kiss, causing you to smirk.

You pulled out of the kiss. “You better call me.” You jokingly warned him.

“Don’t think I could forget if I tried,” Carmy said, as you headed back inside through the stage door.

He let out a sigh and raked his fingers through his now-messy hair. “She’s perfect,” he mumbled to himself. He took a few deep breaths before heading back inside.

“Ay, he’s back. We were starting to think you left, Carm.” Nat said, as Carmy rejoined their group.

“Holy shit,” Richie said, staring at Carmy in shock. Carmy froze, having no idea what Richie was talking about. “What?” Carmy asked, cluelessly.

Richie just chuckled at Carmy’s clear confusion. “Who were you outside with?” Richie asked, smirking at him. Carmy’s eyes went wide. “What—uhh what do you mean?” Carmy lied.

“So, that’s your own lipstick that you’re wearing?” Richie asked. Carmy realized what he meant and started furiously trying to wipe your lipstick off his lips, causing the whole group to start laughing. “So who was it?” Nat asked. Carmy refused to even look her in the eyes.

Then, Sydney spotted something on his hand as he tried to remove the lipstick. She grabbed his wrist and flipped his hand over. They all saw your name scribbled on his hand next to a phone number.

“Oh, shit. You got yourself your own little superstar, cousin?” Richie said, in shock.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Carmy said, pulling his hand away from Sydney. Carmy knew what teasing awaited him for the rest of the night. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d be able to pull that off” Nat teased him.

Carmy wasn’t offended. He also was left wondering how he managed to get your phone number.

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[fruitjoos]

★ NSFW, 18+ MDNI | ART DONALDSON, PATRICK ZWEIG

Be a good girlfriend.

part one, part two

—

you and patrick were spending the weekend in art's dorm for a much anticipated movie night.

patrick had excitedly brought back a supernatural film he'd been raving about, and the plan was simple: you'd handle the popcorn, and art was supposed to get the drinks. of course, art had grumbled about this arrangement. "why do i have to do anything when it’s my room and my tv we’re using?" he'd complained, rolling his eyes.

as art flicked the light switch off, signaling the start of the movie, you resolved not to nag him about neglecting the drink duty. however, the popcorn quickly turned into a dry, choking hazard. barely able to swallow, you coughed and spluttered, forcing art to pause the movie before the production company logo even appeared.

“babe,” you whined, your voice rasping, “i’m so thirsty! the popcorn is killing me. please, i'm begging you.” you clutched at art’s shoulder with desperation.

patrick groaned dramatically from the other side of art. “we’re never gonna watch the fucking movie,” he muttered.

“shut up,” you snapped, turning your pleading eyes back to art.

art sighed theatrically and rose from the bed. “fine, i’ll go get some drinks from the vending machine,” he conceded, grabbing some bills from his wallet and tossing it onto his desk.

“i love you!” you yelled as he closed the door, mumbling a yeah, yeah in response.

“okay, we’re alone,” patrick said, turning to face you with wide eyes and raised brows, “let’s make out.” he smirked.

“no, you freak. he's right outside the door,” you tossed a few pieces of popcorn at him. undeterred, he crawled toward you on his hands and knees, his eyes smoldering with desire. “like that’s ever stopped us,” he murmured, kissing your lips. “you’ve jerked me off while we were sleeping in the same bed,” he mumbled against your mouth, the heat of his breath mingling with yours. “so stop pretending to be the good girlfriend you’re not.” his words stung, a sharp contrast to the softness of his touch.

“what?” you retorted, stopping his chest before he could lean in again, momentarily stunned by his brutal honesty. the weight of his accusation hanging heavily in the air between you.

he quickly retracted to his original spot, your heart pounding as the door creaked open. glancing over at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes as art spoke. what had he said wrong? his mind raced, replaying the words he thought were witty, the ones he was sure would make you smile and call him stupid, maybe even laugh. but now, doubt gnawed at him, a sinking feeling settling in his chest.

"okay, blue gatorade," he said, forcing a smile as he tossed the bottle to patrick, who caught it effortlessly. "and water for my sweet girl," he added, his voice softer. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before placing the cold bottle in your lap.

"thank you," you mumbled, barely audible, your eyes avoiding his as you leaned back against his pillow.

as the movie flickered across the screen, you shifted, trying to find the most comfortable position on his full-size bed. finally, you settled on laying flat on your stomach, your legs lightly kicking against the headboard. your head rested in art’s lap, as he sat in the space between you and patrick leaned against the wall. the blanket sprawled across them.

you were a good girlfriend, you kept reminding yourself, the thought looping in your mind like a mantra. he’s just a bad friend. okay, maybe you had jerked him off that one time, but it was just once. a mistake. girls make mistakes sometimes. who was patrick to tell you what kind of person you were? the irritation flared within you; patrick, who could barely tell his left from his right, had no right to judge you.

the movie’s dialogue faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you. you could feel the warmth of art’s body, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your shoulder.

you are a good girlfriend.

you slipped your hand underneath the blanket covering art's lower half, your fingers tracing a delicate path up his thigh. the warmth of his skin sent a shiver through you, a thrill that made your heart race. art cleared his throat, the sound almost imperceptible over the movie's dialogue, but you felt the tension in his body.

he grabbed a pillow, placing it strategically between himself and patrick, creating a makeshift barrier to shield your actions from view. the intimacy of the moment was intensified by the secrecy, a silent agreement hanging in the air between you and art. his leg muscles tensed under your touch, and you could sense his effort to remain composed.

he tried to make sliding down his gym shorts appear casual, making it seem like he was smoothing out the perfectly unwrinkled blanket. you pulled your hand back out, and brought it up to your lips, spitting out a gob of your sticky saliva right into your palm, cuffing your hand to be sure you don’t spill any of it.

your hand found its way back to his shaft. he jumped at your cold touch as you pumped his dick at a steady pace. the thick meat warming up between your fingers. you gazed up at him, his eyes glued to the screen. “you like the movie?” you whisper. “mhmm,” he gulped. you squeezed him in your palm, “fu–yeah, i love the movie.”

patrick's attention was abruptly drawn to the weird exchange unfolding beside him. his gaze drifting towards the subtle, yet unmistakable, rustling beneath the blanket. as he cautiously lifted his eyes, they collided with yours. you were already staring at him, a mischievous smirk plucked at the corners of your mouth.

he silently scoffed, turning back to the movie. small whimpers left art’s throat as you tugged on his now rock solid cock. up and down. shlick, shlick, shlick. now that patrick knew what was going on, you could be as wild as you wanted to be, making it known that he wasn’t apart of the fun.

you ducked your head under the comforter, slapping his thick, hot cock on the heart of your tongue. spit drooled from your mouth as you swallowed him through your supple lips. art’s mouth hung open with his eyes closed, not caring how crazy he looked to anybody else watching. his brows furrowed from the pleasure of your warm, velvety tongue slurping him up. you licked and slobbed, making a popping noise as you came up for air.

you pushed the blanket from both you and art. exposing his glistening boner, covered in spit. he scolded you, shouting your name, embarrassed as if neither of the people in the room haven’t already seen it.

“what the fuck?” patrick said, shaking his head. irritation rather than confusion etched across his face. he wasn’t confused at all. “shut up,” you straddled art’s waist, kissing and rocking your clothed pussy against his bare cock, “i need to fuck you so bad,” you breathed out, tilting his head back to kiss his lips.

“patrick’s in here,” he clenched his teeth, pressing down your hips to stop your movement. “he can join if he wants,” you smirked, leaning back on the bed to pull off your shorts and underwear, giving patrick a clear shot of your sopping cunt. “or he can sit there and watch. like the good friend i know he’s not.” you said, mocking his words from earlier, climbing back on top of art.

you and art both waited on his response, breathing heavily.

[good-chimes]

Operational Log from the Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.):

AGENTS: “ImpulseSV”, “Skizzleman”, “Grian”, “GoodTimesWithScar”

SUPERVISOR: [Redacted]

[Impulse has submitted a request for ‘$2000’ for reason ‘Van’]

SUPERVISOR: Hi boys. Pleasure to be working with you. Can you give a better reason than ‘van’ for why you need two fucking thousand American dollars?

IMPULSE: Oh, sorry sir. We just need to replace some things in the van.

GRIAN: By which he means everything in the van.

SUPERVISOR: You lost ALL YOUR EQUIPMENT?

IMPULSE: You’re new, aren’t you, sir. Have you…met Scar?

SUPERVISOR: I have your personnel files. What does this have to do with Scar?

GRIAN: Oh, you’ll find out.

IMPULSE: Our last supervisor just sort of, uh, approved things. I’ve got receipts.

SKIZZ: We’re at the school, guys! Stop chatting and get in there!

IMPULSE: Gotta go!

[crackle]

GRIAN: Okay, so Scar, Impulse and Skizz are in the building. So far we’ve got the power turned on but no clues. There’s a spooky sort of bonfire in the main hall. Got skulls on it.

SCAR: I lit the bonfire!

GRIAN: Breaking news, Scar has lit the bonfire.

SUPERVISOR: Why did you light the bonfire!? You could draw the attention of a ghost!

GRIAN: Yeah, Skizz, why did you let Scar set something on fire? Pretty irresponsible.

SKIZZ: [noise of incoherent outrage] You try stopping him, buddy.

GRIAN: Can’t, I’m in the van. [further noise of outrage from Skizz]. Impulse is reporting EMF Level 5—didn’t anyone set up cameras? What kind of team doesn’t set up cameras? We’ve got a new supervisor to impress.

SUPERVISOR: Cameras should not be set up during a mission! You should have set them up in the daytime!

IMPULSE: We could use some cameras.

SKIZZ: GRIAN, YOU GET IN HERE, BUDDY.

GRIAN: Okay, okay, fine! I’ll get the cameras.

SUPERVISOR: Why are you risking the whole team in the building at the same—

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$5’ for reason ‘glowsticks’]

SUPERVISOR: Why on god’s green earth do you need glowsticks!?

SKIZZ: Scar, those don’t do anything.

SCAR: They keeps you safe from ghosts!

SKIZZ: What, because they’re too cool for raves?

SCAR: I want glowsticks or I’m resigning.

SUPERVISOR: You can’t resign in the middle of mission!

IMPULSE: Haunt! Everyone quiet!

SUPERVISOR: Wait, a real haunt? That’s highly dangerous! Get out!

[crackle]

IMPULSE: False alarm, that noise was Skizz and Scar frying hot dogs.

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$1’ for reason ‘needs salt’]

SUPERVISOR: Not approved! You’re not supposed to fry hotdogs on an eldritch bonfire!

SKIZZ: We were hungry!

GRIAN: Wait, you guys have hotdogs in there? I’m coming in.

IMPULSE: Oh, wait—wait—yep, there’s the haunt.

[crackle]

GRIAN: Well, Scar’s dead.

SUPERVISOR: Oh god! What!

IMPULSE: I was wondering why they didn’t get attacked. Just a slow ghost, I guess.

SUPERVISOR: An agent is dead and you’re joking!?

GRIAN: Oh, he’ll be fine.

SKIZZ: I got some tarot cards here.

SUPERVISOR: Don’t touch the cursed items! Find your colleague’s body!

[crackle]

SCAR: I hate all of you. You left me to die.

SUPERVISOR: What? Just a goddamn minute. That was a joke? Agent Scar is alive?

IMPULSE: Scar, buddy, cheer up.

SCAR: Grian shut a door in my face!

SUPERVISOR: One agent impeded another’s investigation?

SCAR: Yeah! I was impuded!

GRIAN: What! How is this my fault! A ghost was coming at me and I shut a door!

SCAR: And killed me!

GRIAN: That sounds like a you problem.

SCAR: Sir, I want to file a complaint. About Grian.

SUPERVISOR: Well, put in a placeholder and we’ll—

[Scar has submitted file ‘grain Complaint’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘Grian’s Official Resignation Letter’]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this sounds like it’s gotten heated, let’s take it offline. Agent Scar, we’ll look into this later. Agent Grian, put your resignation on hold.

IMPULSE: They do this a lot.

SKIZZ: It’s affection. You love each other.

SCAR: I love Grian not murdering me.

GRIAN: I love Scar saving me some hot dogs. Oh wait, he didn’t.

SKIZZ: C’mon, fellas, where’s this ghost?

IMPULSE: We gotta use some of these cursed items.

GRIAN: I vote Scar looks in the haunted mirror. Anyone else want to volunteer? No? See, vote carried.

[Scar has submitted file ‘Im Resigning’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘I’m Resigning HARDER’]

[Scar has submitted file ‘No your not’]

[Last 3 requests have been denied]

SUPERVISOR: How on earth do you work with them?

[Grian has submitted file ‘Turbo Resignation Letter’]

IMPULSE: Oh, me and Skizz have got a knack for it, sir. You just have to let them work it out. Or shut one of them up for the ghost to get.

[Last 1 request has been denied]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this is sounding like a really dangerous situation and I think you should get out of there. I’m calling a retreat.

SKIZZ: Gimme the mirror, I’ll try saying the ghost’s name.

SUPERVISOR: Did you hear me? Is this thing on? Saying the name is EXPLICITLY the one thing that is unsafe to do on missions!

GRIAN: Huh. Maybe we should have read the manual.

SKIZZ: Just let me do it, sir, we get results.  

SUPERVISOR: Are you four always like this?

IMPULSE: Oh, no. Usually these missions go much worse.

SUPERVISOR: No! No, nobody is looking in any cursed mirrors! I have eighty successful mission supervisions under my belt—

SCAR: Sounds uncomfortable.

SUPERVISOR: Our department has a clean record of no agent deaths—

GRIAN: Oh damn, I knew I should have submitted our reports.

SUPERVISOR: And I—What reports?

IMPULSE: Don’t tell him about the reports!

SUPERVISOR: Is this data right? You haven’t sent in a report in… five YEARS?

GRIAN: One thing and another, you know.

SUPERVISOR: No! Enough! You are the WORST team I have ever worked with and every practice you have is UNSAFE and I bet one of you is looking in the cursed mirror RIGHT NOW—

[crackle]

[crackle]

GRIAN: Scar’s dead again.

SUPERVISOR: [calming breath] Okay, you lot clearly have your jokes, like last time, but I need you to know that’s not funny.

GRIAN: I can get a picture of how he ragdolled. His head’s on backwards. It’s hilarious.

[Grian has submitted photo file lol.jpg]

SUPERVISOR: … That … that is a man who has been killed by a malevolent spirit! That spirit is deadly!

SKIZZ: Funny, the ones they send us on are always deadly.

IMPULSE: Get him back to the van.

SUPERVISOR: LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! I AM CALLING AN AMBULANCE!

IMPULSE: You don’t need to do that—

GRIAN: Hey! Dots! I just saw dots!

SKIZZ: Yes! Mark off dots!

IMPULSE: Sweet, we’ve got it! It’s a White Lady! Let’s go, guys!

SUPERVISOR: Is anyone listening? Is anyone listening to me?

[crackle]

SUPERVISOR: Come in. Come in.

SUPERVISOR: I know you’re driving back. Answer your goddamn radio.

SCAR: Well, hello there.

SUPERVISOR: This is very serious. I have to report Agent Scar’s death—Agent Scar? Is that you?

SCAR: The one, the only!

SUPERVISOR: You were dead!

SCAR: Oh, yeah, but then they brought me into the van and we left.

SUPERVISOR: How—what—

SCAR: I dunno, ask Impulse! I’m usually dead by this point.

SUPERVISOR: Agent Impulse! How!

IMPULSE: Me and Skizz have been doing this a long time, sir. Guess we’ve just got a knack.

SUPERVISOR: A knack for—a knack for—I’m going to get a drink.

SCAR: Toast our great success. Hey, hey, Grian, that’s my hot dog. I died for that hot dog!

GRIAN: You weren’t looking! Finder’s keepers!

IMPULSE: Careful of the wheel, guys, careful of the wheel—

SUPERVISOR: I’m never working with your team again!

SKIZZ: Yeah? I get ya, buddy. See you next week.

[mygnolia]

A HUNDRED HIDDEN KISSES | s. jaeyun

୨୧ -› so, the story goes that you’re supposed to feud with Sim Jaeyun, with his perfectly handsome face, his foreign exchange student accent, or his flirty remarks. but the story has a plot twist; somewhere along the way, you fell for his winks and charm.

pair -› (BLONDE.) soccer player!jake x top student!fmr | trope -› one sided enemies to lovers | wc -› 1.7k | cw -› kissing but idk how to write two ppl kissing oops anyways downbad HORRENDOUSLY down bad jake here | library

the weird thing about a crush is, it happens unexpectedly. 

maybe not so unexpected- because your heart has an attraction to the lamest soccer player on the team before your head even tolerated him. you hated sim jaeyun and you swore you did- but maybe you didn’t swear hard enough, because at some point, you could see your sense of rational floating above your head before it pops like a bubble and disappears into thin air. 

see- you’re supposed to hate sim jake. he’s obnoxious and loud and always says ‘no’ in the accent that makes it incredibly clear that it’s him (and only him) who’s said it. and not just that- he’s become best friends with sunghoon in an instant. park sunghoon, aka, your study buddy since beginning of high school. so yeah- maybe you hate that sunghoon has started hanging out with jake more and you swear you always catch the new exchange student looking in your direction whenever he’s with sunghoon. he definitely talks about you, but sunghoon is as quiet as a mouse when you two study for exams- which is infuriating, and so unlike him. but there’s another huge huge problem. 

jake is probably the prettiest boy you’ve met in your life. 

he came to the school with shorter hair, but sunghoon’s ability to change someone’s entire look is blessed by the gods- and sunghoon himself was kissed by eternal beauty, so of course, when they started hanging out, you noticed the change in clothes to be more baggy, his walk to be much more confident, his grin to be sly, and his hair to be so much cuter when styled. you were royally fucked from the day you saw jake wave in your direction when he entered class, with a confident smile that you weren’t sure he only showed to you. 

and that made you all the more irritated with him. “I am not going to teach him anything, hoon.” you state firmly. “he’s like- the most annoying younger brother you could ever ask for.” and there’s a worrying look that flashes in the boy’s eye, leaving you confused and pondering on the way home. “why don’t you teach him art history?” 

“we goof around too much.” and you roll your eyes at his lame excuse. 

and yet another problem arises. see, park sunghoon knew much more than you did when it came to jake. he knew that he played soccer in his backyard before heading to school, that his dog was a border collie, and that sim jake had a crush on you- aka- the most unavailable girl ever, who’s never dated anyone, thinks boys (especially boys who play sports) are stupid, and has a hatred for jake and only him. so sunghoon thinks his friend is utterly hopeless, and wants to tell him to give up, but when sunghoon hears how the boy raves about you and how pretty you looked in class today, he smacks jake on the arm and whines to him about shutting up and to stop being a loser. 

“do you think she’ll like it if i dyed my hair blonde?” 

sunghoon sighs, “you could dye your hair any color and she’d still want to cut it off.”

jake blinks. “but blondes are hot, right?”

and that’s how he shows up the next day, making you shrink in your seat from just how much better he looks and how much more annoying that makes him. 

jake has heard about the guys you’ve rejected for liking you because they’re shallow. and jake sees how you scowl at him- but he’s determined to make you his girlfriend, so once again, he tells you good morning with that accent of his and that grin on him, and you mumble a good morning back, wondering why the hell he’s always trying to talk to you. maybe he still wants you to tutor him for art history. maybe that’s why he intercepts you on the way out of the school gates with heavy breathing after running across campus.

“please- stay after practice.” he begs you, and you recognize a fresh ocean scent that compliments his bubbly personality with how he’s run up to you and leans down to make eye contact. and there’s only one thought in your head, one that manifests into stupid words that stupid and now blonde sim jaeyun hears. 

“you’re so pretty.” and you think if an alien ufo were to suck you up into space and carry you away from the pit of shame and embarrassment you’ve carved out for yourself, you would embrace extraterrestrial life without hesitation if it meant getting away from him. “fuck, sorry, i didn’t mean to say that.” 

and fuck, his laugh his so cute when you hear it, so much so that it momentarily distracts you from the blaring truth that his efforts to look good for you have paid off. “you think i’m pretty?” 

“pretty stupid.” and you try to say it with malice, but it comes out small and he knows you mean none of it. “i’ll be waiting with sunghoon on the bleachers.” 

yeah- it’s safe to say that jake has never scored that many times against his goalie in his entire life. but his excitement is infectious, and when sunghoon sneaks out of the sitting area to meet his friend during a break, the latter knows something is up. “she called me pretty, hoon. like, she actually meant it.”

“are you sure?” 

“and then she said i was pretty stupid, but liste-ow! what the hell?” he stops himself when he gets yet another smack from sunghoon- except this time, his friend’s eyes are shining. 

“no way. she meant it?” and jake nods in earnest. 

“that’s why she’s been waiting at the bleachers.” and sunghoon fake gags. 

“you’re disgustingly in love with her or something.” jake offers him a lopsided smile and bounces off in your direction, afraid you’ve left now that there’s no one on the field and the sun might start to set soon. but to his relief, you’re there, with your pretty hair and your pretty face and your pretty everything. 

“____!” he says running over with his bag. “sorry for keeping you waiting.” 

you close your notebook, where you’ve done half of your math homework between watching jake pass the ball and scoring. and you’re a little irritated at how long it takes for boys to run across the field to practice soccer, but you’re just more worried about getting home safely. “tell me what you need. it’s cold, and it’s getting dark, sim.” 

“you walk home?” and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t noticed something like that sooner. and you nod, packing your things slowly. “i’ll go with you.” 

“why?”

“because i don’t want a pretty girl like you to walk home alone.” he says, changing his shoes. 

“i’m not worried because it’s dark, i’m worried because it’s cold.” you argue, not ignoring how he calls you pretty. 

“then wear my hoodie.” 

“but my face will be cold.” 

“then kiss me.” he blurts. 

huh? kiss? jake? 

“kiss?” you reiterate, staring at him like he has three heads. 

jake’s eyes widen in panic. “well you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“it’s not like i don’t want to.”

“so if you want to, and your face is cold, why can’t we..”

“well i don’t know what it’s like to be kissed!” you admit awkwardly, suddenly finding the dirt on the bleachers much more interesting than the way jake is probably looking at you like you’re a loser. 

“it’s okay, i haven’t either.” and his confession makes you whip your head around, face to face with a boy who very much looks like he’s had a girlfriend- or a few. 

“but-“ and you’re definitely taken aback. “but you’re so..” 

all of the playfulness floods back into his grin as he unabashedly observes your every reaction. “so…what, ____?” and despite a frown overcoming your features, your heart thuds rapidly with the proximity between you two, and you can’t help but lose your train of thought when he’s so close. “pretty?” and it refers to your slip of tongue, making you scrunch your nose in embarrassment. 

“i don’t know.” your murmur. 

“you don’t? come on angel, you aren’t the smartest in our class for nothing.” and you hear the way his accent permeates every few words, and unfortunately, it’s just painfully unfair how attractive he looks when he chuckles and reaches up. “may i?” he says, and you nod, letting him scoot closer and grasp your chin. and you give him permission because you don’t have a reason to say no, and even if you did, all protest dies on your tongue when he leans in just a little bit more, and your eyes flutter shut, tilted slightly for your lips to slot perfectly against his. and your face burns with how much you enjoyed your kiss with jake, so much so that when you part, it’s not for long, since you place your hands on his shoulders and whisper to no one but him, “kiss me again.” 

and you kiss sim jaeyun on the bleachers for the second time, your hands pulling him close as you both enjoy the spark of the moment. and jake can’t get enough of you- it's evident with now the time you spend apart from each other far less in comparison to the time he spends with his eyes closed and with your lips against his. 

you pull apart with a giggle and a boulder of bashfulness on your shoulders, unsure of how you even got here with your lip balm smeared across his lips. and you’re one of the smartest students there, but your train of thought probably crashed somewhere the moment you could smell the fresh scent of his cologne. 

yeah- maybe you were doomed from the start. 

“let’s get you home, yeah?” 

and even though your face is still cold, you wear his hoodie and hold his hand to make sure you’re not cold anywhere else. “what did you want me to stay behind for?”

“right- art history!”

“i said it a whole bunch of times! i’m not going to tutor you, jake!”

he pouts. "still?"

reblogs + interactions r appreciated!

[a-small-safe-place]

His Haven

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader Pt. 1?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When Homelander first met you, he just came in because Madelyn cooked up some scheme with Edgar to 'prove' that the members of The Seven were sound of mind and could pass a psychiatric evaluation similar to the one used in the army. Of course, you had been paid a lot of money to do the evaluations and even more money to ensure that these heroes passed no matter what they said. You were a respected psychiatrist in your field; that’s why Madelyn wanted you specifically.

Homelander went to his appointment, planning on leaving until you said something that caught his attention. You said, 'I am here for you. I took this job because you all spend your days helping and saving people, but at the end of the day, who helps and saves you? Obviously, I couldn’t physically save you, but I can be a place for you to talk if you need it. Nothing you say will leave this room.' Boy, did that stroke his ego in all the right ways. He decided to stay. Something about you was comforting, and he wanted to talk, so he started small with the obvious stuff. He led the conversation by making off-handed remarks about being better than everyone and having to be perfect for Vought. It was clear you didn’t understand his pain, but you were listening to him. You were actually listening to him and responding.

You weren’t like Madelyn, who seemed to argue with every other thing he said; you didn’t respond with dismissive and uncaring responses like Queen Maeve, and you could actually keep up with the conversation, unlike The Deep.

Homelander surprised you and himself when he began attending regular scheduled sessions. You usually led the discussion by asking various questions. Some questions he would lie about, not feeling totally safe to dive into certain topics, or he would just dodge the question and change the subject. Homelander knew you noticed this because anytime he did either of those things, your body language would change, and you would write something down in your little notebook. That notebook had made Homelander incredibly nervous until he found out you were not in there calling him a useless pussy. You were just simply writing topics you two had discussed and what topics made him uncomfortable.

You seemed to actually care about Homelander’s feelings, even the bad ones. Stan Edgar put Homelander in his place, and Homelander looked down avoiding Edgar’s pointed gaze like a child being scolded by their father. Homelander needed some reassurance, but he would never admit that willingly. Homelander felt weak and stupid for needing someone, but you didn’t seem to mind even when he was ranting and raving, so he went to you. You had been his haven. The one person he could confide in and actually be himself.

He arrived at your office in the morning while you happened to be filling out some paperwork. He knew you didn’t have any appointments today because this had been previously the day Vought scheduled for the evaluations of the heroes. Homelander spent the whole day pestering you. 'What are we doing now?' He asked, not entirely oblivious to your mild frustration. 'Still just filling out paperwork,' you replied. He rolled his eyes. 'God, your life is so boring. Go to work, talk to the crazies, fill out paperwork and go home, and you do that all alone? I forgot how boring normal people can be.'

You laughed before telling him, 'no one is keeping you here.' Homelander’s jaw tightened. This pissed him off. You’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to offer to do something more fun. You seemed to notice that 1,000-yard stare he has as he retreats into his own mind. 'Look, I just mean that I have to finish work. I know it’s probably boring you to death just sitting here; you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,' you told him, which seemed to make him feel a bit better, but he’s not entirely out of his head. 'It’s fine, we can just talk while you work,' he tells you with a feigned smile.

Homelander begins to perk up while you finish your paperwork and finally asks you the million-dollar question, 'What are we doing when we get home?'

'I am going home to cook up some dinner and watch some television,' you told him, trying to hint that you were wanting to be alone. Homelander was undeterred. 'What are we eating? I could use a home-cooked meal. We could watch one of my movies. I’ve been told I’m a great actor.' Homelander needs you to agree and compliment him. He desperately wants you to tell him he does a good job, even if you’re just talking about acting. 'Yeah? Your movies are pretty famous,' you say, accepting your fate that he isn’t leaving you alone tonight.

The night is spent with him at your house. Homelander wastes no time making himself at home and pilfering through your things. He feels comfortable being so ensnared in your scent. He becomes more comfortable as the night carries on. You fix his plate and drink for dinner, and the two of you share a dinner that he perceives as romantic. Your food isn’t as good as the private chefs at Vought, but Homelander loves it because he got to see the love you put into making it just for him.

You two clean up together. It’s really you cleaning, and Homelander helps by talking about which movie of his you should watch tonight. Finally, you try to retire to your room, but he follows. 'I thought we were gonna watch a movie… it doesn’t have to be one of mine,' Homelander tries not to sound too desperate, and he hated to say that last bit.

'I had planned on watching something in my room, but you can come lay with me if you want,' you tell him reluctantly. Homelander is excited but tries to keep that hidden. You two lay down and begin watching one of his movies. By the end, Homelander is 'asleep.' He knows you can’t tell the difference in him and ignores you when you gently shake him trying to wake him. He’s not the biggest fan of sleeping in strange beds, but for you, he can make an exception. Next time, he wants you in his bed though.

[bigassmoonchild]

night team here

can we request ghost with a daughter that is the mini verison of him like soap thinks shes gonna be sweet and nice and she bullies him worse than her father does

bonus points

price already knew ghosts daughter was a complete savage but soap annoyed him that morning and price decided the consequences of his actions was being brutally roasted

(daughter is gonna be leaning teens just bc i said so. also, thank you so much for the request!! love the night team 🫶🫶)

soap wasn’t supposed to know. this wasn’t something anyone was supposed to know, but simon was decently okay with price knowing. price knew to keep secrets, hell, price had his own.

but simon accidentally let it slip.

‘i’ve gotta get home, early morning,’ he’d told the 141 when they wanted to go out for drinks after a successful mission. they gave him odd looks (one of them was a knowing one, but he’d ignore price being offered to come watch a recital).

soap didn’t let it go, no he didn’t. ‘got the missus waiting back there?’ and simon was exhausted, it was a long mission and all he wanted was to sleep in his own house.

‘kids got a recital,’ he’d muttered and had walked away. what he didn’t expect was to find a huge amount of messages from soap the next morning. most consisted of the same things.

kid??

who’d have a child with you??

what’s the mother look like?

what’s the kids name?

son or daughter?

maybe i wanted to come watch too

i’m technically their uncle

and simon had to leave, collected you from your grandmother and took you to the recital. you were beautiful, the pride and joy of his life. someone he’d never thought he’d ever had, someone he never knew he could love more than anything.

it took months for simon to wear down enough ti even allow any of them to see a picture of you, let alone know your name.

‘beauty, that one is. you sure she came from you?’ simon shoved soap off the chair for that comment. soap continued to rave about being an ‘uncle’ and as much as simon didn’t want it, he had to tell you.

you looked at him weird when he admitted he’d spoken about you to the 141. you knew, generally, what he did but you didn’t get details.

‘ok and?’ you’d asked. ‘what’re they gonna do? it’s not like they’re gonna do something behind your back, not like price has said anything,’ and he worried. maybe he coddled you a little, but you were his girl.

and you’d agreed to meeting them, but told simon you didn’t want to know when. ‘i’ll be thinking about it too much,’ you told him.

simon finally dropped a few names for you, late one night when he’d finally relaxed with some whiskey (he didn’t mention the watered down taste).

‘what kinda name is soap? he drop it or something?’

it took some time before simon had grown any sort of comfortable letting anyone but price be around you. it wasn’t common that you stayed by price when simon was out on a mission, but the occasion happened when it was possibly a fatal one.

it was early morning when you’d sent a text to simon, he hadn’t meant to go to the compound at all that day but had made a lunch. it was a picture of the lunch, still sitting in the fridge with the caption ‘you forget something?’

and he’d groaned, mentioning to price in passing that he forgot his lunch at home. soap and gaz had been there, and a little smile came from soap.

‘just have the lass bring it ‘round, i’m sure she’s dying to meet her uncles,’ price gave a little grimace. ‘what? she’s probably a sweetheart, i cant imagine a girl like her would turn out like ghost,’

you’d relented to bring it around, especially after price messaged you about soap not being able to shut up about meeting you.

he’s pressing me for information. -john

if you bring the food, i’ll give your dad an extra day of leave. -john

please, i’m about to make him run. -john

you always laughed a little when he signed off after each text. it was his own little thing, and you secretly enjoyed having a fatherly figure text you more than three words.

when you got to the compound, you found price waiting outside for you and you waggled the bag of food at him. he let you in, guiding you through the halls to where simon and the others were.

‘try not to forget it, next time,’ you told simon. he gave you a small grunt, one that sounded like his ‘thank you’.

soap walked up to you, giving you a cheeky grin and swinging his arm around your shoulder. ‘how’s it been, lass?’ he asked you and you shook his arm off.

‘you know it’s not the 80’s anymore, right?’ he blinked at you. snorting softly with an eye roll, you sat down in the nearest chair. ‘mullets back in style, you know. might fit you better,’ you commented.

soap was left with his mouth open, gesturing faintly to you then to simon. ‘she can’t be like you,’ he nearly hissed.

‘don’t act so surprised, she said damn near the same thing to me,’ price lamented, thinking back on his first time meeting you.

‘you from the 1800’s? christ, i haven’t seen anyone willingly have that beard,’ you’d told him oh so long ago.

you looked around, leaning towards him. ‘who else am i supposed to be like? i’m pretty sure he’s my father,’ you hissed back.

all soap could do was blink. a little ghost? no, he couldn’t believe it. he saw simon give you a little fist bump, almost saw a few dollars being passed between you two.

simon pulled his mask off to eat and you looked at him closely. ‘you get a haircut?’ you asked, squinting your eyes suspiciously.

‘nope,’ he responded. ‘got ‘em all cut,’ and you snorted a short laugh. soap couldn’t do much but watch the interaction, realization slowly settling in.

‘that’s why you tell those shitty jokes?’ he announced. ‘you’re actually a father telling dad jokes,’

you gave a little smile and he could see the admiration in your eyes. god, you were just like your father but the confidence came off of you so easily.

‘yknow he came to my parents job show and tell once,’ you told everyone and simon stared at you. almost daring you to finish. ‘he didn’t take the mask off and had to leave, he scared too many of the kids,’

you spoke so fondly of him.

‘but he’s a prick, so he just left,’ simon lightly kicked your leg and you made a big show of it. you might be his kid, but you had your own personality in there.

and simon would be dead before anyone took that from you.

[bella-goths-wife]

Request:What if Val was in a bad mood after meeting Charlie,What would he do?

Aftermath of pet meeting Charlie (DARK CONTENT)

Warnings: abuse, violent punishments, implied past SA, sexualisation of reader, power imbalance, weird dynamics, drugging, slut shaming, threats of SA

Just a reminder that reader died when she was 18 and that I do not condone of romanticise the disturbing themes I write about!

You awoke to a harsh headache and light sensitivity due to the sleeping pills, but also with an ultra awareness that you were not in angels dressing room or your room.

You felt an eerie chill creep up your spine at the familiar sensation of the zebra print silk sheets underneath your body as you tried to pull yourself up.

A shaky sigh escaped you at the memory of the last time you had awoken in this bed, with Valentino’s limbs thrown inappropriately around you as they squeezed you.

“Finally awake darling?” You heard and you froze in fear

You look up to see Valentino smoking his disgusting cigars while sitting in a chair that he usually left open for an observer to his night time promiscuity.

Be looked at you with a predatory gaze that you were all to familiar with as you prepared yourself mentally to dissociate from whatever was about to happen to you.

“You’ve been out for two days” Valentino states with a humourless chuckle “I guess I miscalculated the amount I gave you huh? Oops”

You knew this was part of the punishment, his mockery comes first and then his heavy handed abuse. You also knew that you’d be punished by the other two for missing work

“Your little friend was just so interested in you” Valentino states as he rises from the chair and stalks closer to you “said that she’d love to see you again, that was before I kicked her out and gave Angel dust a proper warning about inviting guests to shoots”

You heart dropped at the mention of angel dust, you scolded yourself for not seeing how your actions would affect him.

“Got anything to say for yourself, princesa?” He asked as he gripped your face harshly and his nails threatened to rip into the delicate skin of your cheeks to make more markings

“I’m so sorry Valentino” I apologise desperately with a clear tone of fear “I was just trying to help-“

“Oh I’m sure you were” Valentino scoffed out sarcastically as he pushed you off the bed and onto the hardwood floor “just like you used to help your friends at your little raves”

You tried to crawl away from your abuser with your arms, but Valentino stood over you and gripped your hair to pull your face up and expose your throat. You yelped in pain as you felt the iron hot pain in your scalp from his hold on your hair

“Tell me darling, did sucking all those cocks when you were alive to get into parties ever fill the hole that your dear old dad left?” Valentino asked with a mocking tone “did fucking all those girls and boys in the toliet stalls ever fool you into thinking you were worth more than a mildly entertaining hole that people would abandon when you’d use one to speak”

You felt tears clouding your vision as you hyperventilated in pain at the words and the physical sensations of his abuse.

“We gave you purpose” Valentino yelled in your face before turning you body over and slapping you across the face “we made you worth something instead of scum on the streets”

You groaned out in pain as his hands wrapped around your throat and squeezed down. Fear encased your entire body

“I told Vox about your new mission for friends and he gave me permission to punish you how I see fit, his only rule was to make sure you could easily cover it up in time for your photoshoot tomorrow” Valentino scoffs out with a smirk that turned into a sneer “if you were one of my souls, I’d have the camera ready and twelve men lined up for you but I suppose Vox is more merciful than me”

You gasped out for air as you felt pressure in your head and your vision going spotty. Valentino only scoffed.

“I suppose you’ll always be that pill seeking whore at heart, but that’s okay darling” Valentino says as his tone switches from angry to charming in a second and he lets go of your throat and walks away from you and towards his closet “we can fix that”

You gasp out for air as you clutch your own neck and you greedily gulp down air you could get. Your had a burning pain in your body and a dull ache in your head.

You saw Valentino undressing himself and an icy panic came at the thought that maybe he wasn’t done with his punishment. That panic calms after you see him simply changing into his sleepwear

“Oh my sweet little pet, it’s all over now” Valentino coos as he walks over to you and picks you up before placing you in his bed “you did good pet, we’re done now”

You sobbed into his pillows and you held yourself at the feeling of violation that surrounded you after you abuse.

Valentino sighs before going to his bedside draw and pulling out what looked like a gummy bear, but you knew the routine.

He wants to hold you In some sick kind of abuse aftercare to make his feelings of guilt disappear, and he couldn’t do that if your sobbing and squirming.

So he’ll feed you a weed gummy to try and relax you and make you more pliable to his twisted affection, and that’s what he does as he holds the gummy to your lips.

And your desperation to feel anything other than the pain or the feel the deep violation that came from his punishments, you accept it with urgency.

“You just need to be broken in and taught” Valentino sighs as he gets into the bed and holds you close “you need to break those bad habits and realise that your all ours”

A sob breaks out of your mouth, you’re truly trapped with them. You’re trapped being theirs.

You fall asleep in your abusers arms with the deep fear that you’ll awaken to the same situation and a desperate hopelessness that you won’t wake up at all.

Tag list:

@the-faceless-bride @repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @hazbinhotelxreader @idontreallyexistyet @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @aroomofmyown24 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

[constantmourning]

Stress Relief

[Price/Reader/Soap/Simon]

Summary: Headcanons (almost an imagine) on sleeping with the three and how it turns out for you!

Warnings: Minors DNI! NS/FW, 18+!, M/M/M/F, Foursome, not too descriptive but still nasty, let me know if I forgot something! (haven't done this in a while)

A/N: This is my first time writing for these guys! I hope you enjoy! I'm still getting a hang of these characters but I had this idea so I went with it. I kinda fucking ran with it actually... Hope you all enjoy. Kinda wanna make it a full blown fic.

It started with Soap. Really, you didn't think it'd go much further.

You were sleeping together most every chance you got. To the point where Soap started to brag about his nights he'd spend with you to TF141.

Price began probing about who, genuinely curious. Soap would never say your name. However, you gave yourself away after a briefing and heard Price being curious about who had Soap acting that way.

"It's me." You walked up and smiled at Price. Soap was slightly shocked you had given yourself away. And was even more shocked with the next thing you said. "If you ever wanna feel just as great, give me a call." You winked at him.

Soap wasn't jealous by any means, in fact sharing you with Price was something he really didn't mind. He had not expected you to be okay with it though.

So, you started sleeping with Price.

Soap and Price were much different lovers in the best way possible. You would spend the night with Soap, him going absolutely feral over you. Then you'd spend the next night with Price. Who was not as ravenous, but just as passionate.

This went on for a couple weeks. Just you, Price, and Soap. Never had the three of you fucked at the same time. But Price had plans to change that. And Soap had something up his sleeve as well.

"Soap." Price had approached him a questioning look. "I have a question."

"Good, just who I was looking for," Soap smirked, "'cause I do too."

You were in your room when a knock came from the door. It was a free night, neither Soap nor Price were supposed to come over, so you weren't sure who the knocking could be.

When price and soap entered your room as soon as you opened your door you grew hot. "you're both here?"

"We have a proposition." Price seemed serious but Soap seemed too excited to be serious.

They both stood in front of you, so you could assume what it was. "threesome?"

Soap shook his head, and held up four fingers. Your brows knitted together and you cocked your head. Before you could say a word your door pushed open further and you turned around. Your heart jumped into your throat.

The man you had found the mysterious since coming onto base was standing there. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. You swallowed hard turning towards Price and Soap.

"Is this a joke?" No way was Simon joining in...

"No, love," Simon grunted, "it isn't. Soap 'ere won't shut up about you, so I thought I'd see what the raving was about."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Had Soap been seeing how you were staring longingly at Simon? Yes, yes he had.

"Is this okay?" Price asked. Soap and Simon waited on your answer. When you nodded, things were most definitely getting loud.

You thought Soap and Price were great? It is Simon's mission to show you how much better he is at everything.

Soap amazing at eating you out? Simon is going to one up him. Price really good at taking his time fucking you? Simon is going to show you just how much time he can to take care of you.

They let Simon do whatever he wants, Price and Soap just watching (and jerking it). But after Simon experiences you for himself, they decide to all have a go at it.

They take turns teasing you and eating you out. Seeing just how far you could go before they get down to business.

You're sandwiched between three very strong men and its very hot.

Soap is a freak (enduring) and loooooves watching Simon's large form pressing against yours while Price takes you from behind.

The guys don't leave without their dick getting sucked.

You are almost crying (positive) after they're done with you.

Super duper big on aftercare. Simon carries you to the bathroom. Soap would literally give you a bath if you wanted/needed. Price is telling you how good you were. All of them are the best...

At the end Price is ready to ask for this more often. It's a nice stress reliever for everyone. He may even ask if the others could join, for team bonding. Only if you're comfortable of course.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Stuck Inside From the Rain

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up (This was supposed to be short u-u)

You couldn't go home, not in this weather.

You had only planned to drop off a video game you borrowed from Bakugou, but the rain had hit so suddenly that there was no way you were going anywhere now.

What's worse, it was getting pretty dark out. At least Bakugou had a nice couch to sleep on...

"Oi!" Bakugou called out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

Bakugou had fetched some extra ingredients so he could make food for the both of you. You both sat down at his dinner table, with your grilled chicken and peppers in front of you.

"Thank you so, so much for doing this, bestie!" you said. "I think this is the first time we've eaten together in your new home."

"That's not my fault. I invited you over last week. But you were busy with Kirishima..."

You scoffed at how he chewed his food angrily. "He's just a friend, Bakugou. I actually totally forgot about that until now. Are you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous of some guy with shitty hair?! He's got nothing on me!"

"Then don't bring him up?"

"Don't go blowing me off for Kirishima and then I won't bring him up! How about that?"

"I'll be sure to give you all the attention you want this time, okay?"

Bakugou looked frustrated, but a bit pleased. "You better."

True to your words, you ranted and raved to Bakugou about the food, as always. Bakugou knew that if there was one way to get you to focus on him, it was through his cooking. He looked cocky as you basically monologued to him about your 5-star Yelp review of his food. He offered you the rest to take home as leftovers, because unlike that traitorous rat Kirishima, he found himself to be a considerate and compassionate soul who would never let you starve.

You wanted to help with the dishes, but Bakugou wouldn't let you lift a finger to do chores. The guy was treating you like a guest he personally invited, but you felt a little bit like a burden who invaded his evening out of nowhere (even though you knew he wanted you here).

The night grew colder as it went on, and you could tell even Bakugou was starting to get affected. You attached yourself to his side to warm him up, holding onto him because you knew he hated the cold. He let himself get a little lost in that moment, which was easy to do since nobody was here except for you.

"You're such a koala," he said. "How long are you gonna steal my arm for?"

"Bakugou, if you keep complaining I'm gonna let go."

"Fine, fine! Just walk a little faster with me, I need to get something from the living room."

Bakugou wanted to watch a movie with you, but first he fetched an extra blanket, hoping to drape it over the two of you while you sat on the couch.

"You didn't get your own blanket?" you asked.

"This was all I had! Don't hog the stuff, alright?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a burden. I'm just cold..."

"You're not a burden. Just get over here so we can share it. Properly."

He drags the blanket around both of your shoulders, bringing you two hip-to-hip.

"It's like we're kids again, huh?" you laughed. "If you had extra pillows, I would've made us a pillow fort."

"I'm too big for that and you know it. It'd just fall over."

"You're no fun. Did anyone ever tell you that you act like such a grandpa?"

"You've probably told me that at least 5 times now, yeah."

You two watched a movie together, some old action flick from long ago. You rested your head on Bakugou's shoulder, and over time he ended up curling one of his arms around you. You're engrossed in the movie, you thought it wouldn't be your style but the movements are mesmerizing! However, Bakugou's glancing over at you repeatedly, gauging your reaction.

As the movie continued, the night grows even colder, and you're retreating into Bakugou's chest for any semblance of warmth. It's easy to do since his Quirk keeps his body working like an oven. Bakugou's tensing up now, stiff and janky in his movements.

You yawned for the 15th time this hour. "Bakugou... I'm sleeeeepy..."

Your heart rate slowed and your eyes felt heavy, and you almost dozed off to sleep with the sound of the rain rushing down outside. Bakugou looked distressed, knowing that you two might fall asleep together for the first time. But you didn't want him distressed, you wanted him happy, because he was your Bakugou, even if it wasn't official yet...

In your sleepy state, you gave him a tiny kiss him on the cheek and then curled up to sleep against him. You heard him swearing up a storm under his breath, and he really went through the entire curse word dictionary as if you couldn't hear him at all.

Then, he kissed you on the forehead right back.

"Night, dummy," he said, his voice very quiet.

[overly-distressed-mouse]

Okay I'm now home from watching the Barbie movie, so I have to bestow some knowledge upon you fuckers (aka me infodumping actual Barbie lore because there were a lot of references there).

So, first and foremost, in one scene, we see "Earring Ken" and "Growing up Skipper" (very short scene, don't worry if you missed it). But these were actual Barbie dolls released by Mattel way back whenever (See pictures below)

So, "Earring Ken" was actually "Earring Magic Ken". His whole thing was Mattel wanted to be cool and hip with the kids or whatever, so they created him. Except their idea of going out and finding inspiration and information as to what was "hip with the kids", was gay bars. And raves. As you can imagine, Earring Magic Ken did not stay on shelves too long (about 6 months) (though he did sell actually really well and I believe is still one of their most sold despite only being available for such a short time). I'm pretty sure his necklace charm could be swapped out too and also worn as actual earrings. HOWEVER, the part about Earring Magic Ken that kills me, is that because they went to gay bars, not only did they give him a mesh shirt and shit (as seen above), but the charm on his necklace? Is a cock ring. Did Mattel realize this? Probably the fuck not, but that's what it was💕

Growing up Skipper was also an actual doll, and just like in the movie, if you twisted her arm, she grew boobs. She also grew like an inch taller or something. I'm pretty sure she also was not on the shelf long, but she was introduced in the 1970s. So that's fun

Next up, Midge and Allan (who both play slightly bigger roles in the film but here's pictures anyways)

So Midge was Barbie's best friend, and was released specifically because Mattel found themselves faced with high demand for a pregnant Barbie doll. But of course, Barbie can never get married or be pregnant or have kids, because it ages her, and obviously seeming a little older means Barbie is suddenly worthless and unappealing (Woo patriarchy!). So their solution was Midge, who, ironically, ended up being everything Barbie couldn't (which is kind of funny since she's supposed to be able to be any and everything ever). So, them making her only personality trait in the movie her pregnancy, is kind of spot on. She did have actual dolls initially but then seemed to disappear for a while, having been replaced with other "Barbie's best friend!"'s. Actually they also replaced Barbie's siblings several times but that's another post. Midge did eventually return though in Life in the Dreamhouse (See below)

One thing they never mentioned in the movie, however, is that Allan was actually Midge's boyfriend. I don't have too much on him besides that but I think it's worth mentioning.

Anywho, there's my rant on some of the characters in the Barbie movie, if you made it this far, thanks :))

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer going on a date w/ reader; he doesn't realize you're his date (SFW)

I was talking with my friends @citrusbatsandhoneybees and @canihaveacandycane about a cute scenario and I needed to share it!

It's obvious that you and Lucifer have feelings for one another but have clearly been tiptoeing around the subject

Literally everyone in the hotel can tell but they're so frustrated with you two that they decide to take matters into their own hands!

They set you up on a date! You don't know who it's with but Charlie insists you go out there and have fun!

Lucifer, with Charlie's insistence, agrees to go on the date; he knows she's just trying to help!

But when you show up, he happily invites you to sit down where his "date" was supposed to! He's much happier to be with you than someone he doesn't know!

It becomes very obvious that he doesn't know you are his date

But maybe that's for the best! Because he rants and raves about his newest duck project and how proud he is of Charlie

You like listening to him; you don't have to talk much which is good because you're internally panicking (you were gonna give Charlie a piece of your mind for setting you up with her father!)

The "date" ends and Lucifer goes back to Charlie to to her what happened!

"So dad, how was your date?"

"Ahh, well, my date never showed up, but by sheer luck Y/N was there and we had a great time!"

"Dad...she was your date..."

"I'm sorry, what?!"

"Why did you think she was there?!"

"I don't know! I thought she was just having dinner!"

"By herself in a really nice dress??"

"Charlie, now's not the time to point out my leaps in logic, you have to help me!"

Cue like ten minutes later, Lucifer is knocking on your door with seven different bouquets and thirteen balloons

He apologizes profusely and says he's an idiot and tells you that he'll take you on a real date tomorrow which you happily accept

[justporo]

Shooting Stars

A night of star showers is imminent in Baldur's Gate. You couldn't think of a better way to spend it but with Astarion and a sparkling glass of champagne in your hand - and lots of teasing banter- until the first star comes shooting. Because of course: there are wishes to be made and hopefully to be fulfilled.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Time to cook of the 2024 season! I originally wanted to use this for the Winter Challenge as well but eh, I rather wanted to take my time (and I'm happy about it - I'm only getting back in the saddle with writing now, break was very much needed). So have this piece of fluff, that is hopefully something for the soul to kick of this year of writing! This wonderful artwork was done by the lovely @britonell (thank you so much!).

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 2,9k

Song: All This And Heaven Too - Florence + The Machine

~~~

“Shit, I think I ripped one of my stockings”, you cursed while you rearranged your seat at the edge of the roof. Astarion relaxedly sitting beside you clicked his tongue and looked judgingly at you - but you knew he was only teasing. The sparkle in his ruby eyes spoke of nothing but affection and admiration as he looked at you and then towards the glittering night sky.

Tonight a shower of shooting stars was supposed to happen. The whole city had been raving about it for days since astronomers had shared the news of the upcoming celestial event. Probably every one who could afford so would be out and about to catch a glimpse of some of nature's magic. And of course - as was custom - to make some wishes and hope for the falling stars to kindly fulfil them.

Some of the stars on the firmament were twinkling already, as if they were shimmying, getting ready to fall out of their sockets and travel across the night sky. To grace all beings below them with their fleeting beauty.

Never had you seen something like this and you had been brimming with excitement from the first moment you had heard about it. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

When you had asked Astarion if he wanted to watch the star showers with you he had lifted one eyebrow and given you a kind of condescending if playful smile. Then, when he had answered his voice had dripped with sarcasm: “Oh darling, why would we need to watch some beautiful fallen stars when I already have one right in front of me.”

You had almost barfed onto his feet. Astarion had looked offended.

Then you had lost it so hard laughing that your vampire had needed to hold you up by your elbows so as to not let you slide onto the ground while you suffered from your hysteric fit.

“Astarion, love, you already have me - you can scrap the cheesy lines - please?”, you had pressed out through laughter and buried your face in his chest while Astarion had pouted a bit more about your snide remarks regarding his flirting techniques.

Of course, he hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d made it a game over the next couple of days to come up with even much worse lines while you always desperately tried to keep it together.

“But darling, all my wishes have come true already with you by my side.”

“Love, I believe the night's cancelled. All stars are already in your eyes.”

“Oh, my heart, I’ve already fallen hard for you, why would you need another star?”

They got progressively worse the longer he kept going - and incredibly less inventive.

But of course you were still swooning on the inside, at least a little. Because after all, how couldn't you? Knowing that Astarion was indeed in love with you and that he really meant his words. Well, once you scraped all the gooey honey off it. What lay beneath was very sweet and much less sickening.

This game of his had gone on for several days until the night had finally arrived - and until even Astarion had almost run out of stupid pick-up lines.

The both of you had decided to dress up, just for the hell of it. This being one of the things you had adopted quickly from Astarion: indulging yourself, taking care of yourself and dressing for yourself - and for him of course, because you could never get enough of the stunned looks he threw you.

You were in a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time back and that was embroidered by the man himself. And the vampire in a finely stitched doublet that made him look positively regal and smoking. There was a fair amount of staring happening from both sides, hopefully not distracting from the actual event later on.

Then with lots of giggles from your side and terrible cursing from Astarion you had climbed onto the roof of your little Baldurian townhouse. This man could never do anything without commenting on it. When you had pointed out as much, he had narrowed his eyes at you and looked tempted to drag you down the small ladder again that led up to the roof. But you had swiftly moved out of his reach with a cackle - not without also making sure to give him a good view of your behind first by deliberately swishing open the slit in your skirt.

Carefully, you had scattered towards the edge over the old shingles then, until you could carefully settle down.

Obviously not carefully enough though since you feared that the delicate sheer fabric covering your slender legs might have been torn on a sharp edge when you had sat down. But it didn’t really matter. Astarion had already promised he’d rip these stockings off you (together with the set of naughty underwear you’d chosen specifically for him) with his teeth later in the night. Really, you were just presenting an opening for your eager lover.

With another curse under his breath, the vampire sat down beside you although he did so elegantly and immediately evoked the image of a lounging cat. The grace of the rogue really was unmatched.

You leaned back on your hands and angled one leg, putting it up on the edge while the other dangled over thin air. Astarion almost mirrored you with the way he seemed to sit comfortably there, leaning back, legs slightly spread and hanging over the edge while he observed the glittering night sky.

“Love, that’s no way to sit for a lady”, Astarion teased you with a promising grin while he eyed your angled leg, clad in nothing but a gauzy stocking, adorned with a delicate lace rim at the very top of your thigh - which was almost completely on display for him.

You angled your head at him and swayed your leg a little so the slit allowed for an even better view of your leg - careful to only tease for later.

“Good thing I am not a lady then”, you replied to your vampire, tongue in cheek.

“Oh yes, my love, it’s for the best. The way I’d single handedly ruin your reputation later tonight would be scandalous,” Astarion replied while he devoured you with his eyes from under his brows. In his head you could bet he was already letting his teeth graze over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Oh, it would be a night to behold.

You laughed softly, throwing your head back. But then you let your leg softly fall onto the other, giving at least the illusion of decency again.

You grinned at the vampire, the vampire grinned back with promise.

Nothing would ever come close to this, to being with him: the playful banter, the easy companionship, the intense intimacy. You hummed contentedly while you slowly ripped your loving gaze of Astarion and let it wander over your surroundings.

Below you the streets of the Upper City seemed to fill up with the whole population of Baldur’s Gate. Of course everyone wanted the best sight of the night sky - and Upper just had the best spots. And what a good thing that you still had the vantage point even with all those people trying to find a neat stargazing spot.

Idle chatter drifted up towards you. People had brought food and drinks and a continuous hum of anticipation filled the cold night air, but you barely even noticed. For you there was merely your soulmate and you up on the roof of your home.

Behind you you had two crystal glasses waiting to be filled with some bubbling champagne Astarion had insisted upon. “If you’re going to make me sit up on some godsforsaken rooftop during wintertime only to crane your neck at the night sky you can look up at every night, I might as well bring a drink”, he’d said and rolled his eyes while he had grabbed not one, but two of the expensive bottles. You had simply shrugged - you wouldn’t say no if drinks were involved. And since you had figured out that it had been nearly half a year already since most everything had been dealt with, you felt it was only appropriate to celebrate this fact with a drink.

The vampire had whole-heartedly agreed when you had told him your observation. Astarion, of course, had been very well aware of that even before. He hadn’t stopped counting the days since his life had taken a turn for the better and, perhaps, he never would.

Up on the roof the rogue now procured his dagger, threw it up to flip it artfully and only then - when he was sure that he had your full attention - he took the first bottle with a sly grin. And then, in his histrionic manner, he swished the sharp blade up along the curve of the bottle neck and cleanly took off the head along with the cork.

Champagne immediately started foaming out of the bottle and Astarion was quick to grab the crystal glasses, both in one hand, and elegantly pour you each a glass of sparkling wine.

Somewhere below you heard someone yelp - apparently Astarion had unconsciously managed to hit someone with his display of skill. You looked down and saw an older gentleman rub the back of his head and turn towards you.

Quickly grabbing Astarion’s arm to make him pull back with you, you dragged up your legs with a giggle, hoping you could hide from the unwilling target. The vampire grinned broadly at you while he kept pouring - that little rascal.

You had to be honest though that you’d been quite impressed with the display of this dextrous if wholly unnecessary talent. It was after all very fitting for the flamboyant elf. But your adoration must have shown because the vampire was grinning proudly at you as he handed you a glass.

Time to get his ego in check again before it became too massive.

“Where’d you learn that?”, you asked after you had clinked glasses with him. “Rich prick academy?”

Astarion almost snorted into the glass he’d been taking a sip from. He recovered quickly though. “Not my fault they taught you neither that nor manners, you insolent little thing.” He clicked his tongue and took another sip of bubbly.

You waited until he had lifted up the drink filled flute to slap his arm.

His drink sloshed, some spilling onto him.

The look of that combined with too much force you had used to get back at him almost made you lose your balance. You screeched, gripping your glass as if it could stop you from falling.

But thankfully Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist with roguish reflexes, pulling you back and thus prohibiting you from falling off.

Your heart was racing from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The vampire was only laughing as you recovered from your self-inflicted fright. And you hadn’t even drunk a single drop of alcohol yet. So you made to catch up and lifted the crystal to your lips.

“Darling, don’t break your back falling off this rooftop, yes?” Astarion said, choosing this exact moment to break the silence again. “I have way better options to achieve that if you should insist upon it, my heart.”

You choked on the prickling drink and started coughing. Immediately, you were almost ready to push that bastard again, risking falling off once more. Astarion in the meantime smirked smugly at you while drinking his champagne in peace now.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you croaked pathetically after barely being able to talk again. Somehow you seemed to draw the short end of the stick fairly often when it came to trying to out-sass the pale elf. But he had more than 200 years on you with that - give or take. You’d get back at him one of those days.

The bickering went on for some more back and forth until you had each downed your first glass, then a second while you were both laughing profusely and you started to feel the alcohol make your mind a little hazy.

Astarion refilled the glasses once more and you just kept talking - about everything and nothing. It was always so easy to just spend time with each other. It almost felt like you had been together a whole eternity already, in the best way imaginable.

“So, what are you wishing for?”, you asked Astarion emboldened by the alcohol while you were working on emptying your next glass of champagne.

The vampire inclined his head towards you and softly shook his head in disappointment: “Love, have they truly taught you nothing? You’re not supposed to tell or it won’t come true!” He softly clicked his tongue while you stuck out yours towards him. You kept looking at him in anticipation - but he was firm on not losing a word on the matter.

After a while you gave up with a dramatic sigh and gulped down the rest of liquid in your glass. Neither pouting at him, bribing him or even offering another glance of your precariously clothed legs seemed to work.

You though knew exactly what things you’d be wishing for: for him and you to be happy - that was the most important thing, to find a way to allow Astarion to walk in the sun again, a long and happy life for all your friends you hadn’t seen in a while now, to have things stay like this forever or at least to be able to always come back to moments like these.

You really deeply hoped this would stay with you: the unconditional love, the deep trust, the easiness with which the two of you spent your days and nights now with each other.

Some time ago you had feared that once the permanent tension of your adventuring days was over there wouldn’t be much left for you. That Astarion would just realise that you were barely more than a former street kid and thief - and pretty much boring beyond that.

But it hadn’t been like that. Quite the opposite: every day seemed to make the vampire fall harder for you. And you knew that was surely true from your side. It was like every time you looked at him another small piece of your heart was permanently handed to the vampire who you trusted fully to handle it gently. And perhaps the same was true for Astarion’s undead and unbeating heart in his chest.

You kept gazing at him and enjoyed just listening to him talk beside you while you sipped on your drink. The wind was drifting through both your hair, pulling some light strands of your hair with it while it merely tugged softly on the rogue’s curls. His side profile was sharply illuminated by silver moon light, pronouncing his straight nose, sharp cheekbones. And not to forget his ruby red eyes that always caught when you were staring at him and then sparkled in delight.

You could just spend eternity with moments like these.

Astarion was currently telling you about a book of poetry he was reading at the moment, looking up at the moon and the stars with a slight smile on his lips when a murmur started to move through the crowd below you.

Both of your ears perked up a little as the people became louder. And then when someone even screeched and you saw someone pointing up at the night sky as you leaned forward you realised what it must mean: shooting stars.

Your head snapped up and you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, just the disappearing tail of a star racing across the darkness. With a gasp you grabbed Astarion’s shoulder without looking to get his attention. The vampire immediately complained but was silenced when another falling star shot across the sky - this time clearly visible for both of you.

The people below were buzzing in excitement now, loud “oohs” and “aaahs” were heard in the chill winter night as the stars become more and more frequent until bright white curves of sparkles were drawn across the sky every few seconds.

Your eyes widened as you beheld the wondrous event in front of you, completely entranced by what was happening. Truly a magic that was unmatched in beauty, a spell woven over everyone that was lucky enough to catch sight of it even for only a moment.

The vampire observed the falling stars with you for a long while before he slowly turned to you.

Astarion looked at you, still fully smitten by stars falling from the sky, eyes wide and shining, lips parted slightly.. He drank it all in: the wonder in your eyes, your beautiful face, the love. You see the latter reflected on his face when your gaze flicked to the vampire and back up to the sky to not miss a single star.

But Astarion’s gaze kept lingering upon you. Not wanting to ever forget even the most miniscule of details of this moment while sparks of light kept dancing over your face and your ever broadening smile.

He hadn’t lied, calling you his star.

Because his biggest wish, although always unspoken, had already been fulfilled.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna

[hwanchaesong]

┗🖋️In between fights and smoke / Daydream collides with a poison cloak / Putting nightmares into a tight choke / Fixing it with a lust-filled stroke 📖

🎧: Taylor Swift - I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

wc: 2.4k

genre & warnings: angst, sprinkle of fluff, smut, stoner!hee, petnames, weeds & alcohol, kind of like toxic rs, cursing, appearance of other enha members, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, slight nipple play, creampie (?), unprotected sex, etc etc mdni

a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poets Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

The device shook on your palms, the icy night breeze seeping in your skin, truly, you should've worn a thicker jacket instead of some flimsy cardigan on your way here.

But who could blame you?

Getting a cryptic message out of nowhere, more so if it's about your oh so, loving boyfriend, would make you bolt out of your house even during the ungodly hour of 2:37 am.

You read the text again, and you couldn't help the scowl in your face.

"Get your boy."

You've always wanted to receive the magical three words. Not the vomit-inducing one.

Sighing, you tucked your phone inside your pocket, proceeding to walk into the spacious rustic porch of the eerily quiet house.

No knocks were needed, the owner of the residence opening the door once you're in front, motioning for you to come in.

You did and the first thing that you could think of is the unusual atmosphere of the building. Most of the time, the blaring music and glaring lights would repulse you, but there were none of those today.

Did the party end early?

Before you could ask where he is, the male with you answered your unspoken question.. or questions at that.

"No rave for tonight because we decided on another festivity, down in the basement." he says, giving you a weak smile as he shoves his hands down in his pockets.

"Thank you, Jay." you returned the smile, which he wasn't able to see for he's already heading into his kitchen.

You then sauntered at the said place where you could find the person that you have personally come to pick up.

Entering the area almost made you want to go to the hospital. The smell was revolting, a mixture of burning fronds, sweat, ashes of joints and alcohol invaded your senses and it was nauseating.

You stood there for a minute, scanning the realm of awfulness until your eyes landed on the guy that was supposed to be in bed with you. Cuddling you and whispering sweet nothings to make you sleep but here he is, giggling like a child, blowing out a puff of smoke that paints his lungs black.

"Heeseung." you called, paying no mind to the other inhabitants of the spacious basement, footsteps nearing closer in his figure that was slumped on a sorry ass sofa, "Let's get you home."

His eyes snapped open, craning his neck to peer at you, recognition flashed and his expression lighted up. He threw you a wide grin, patting his lap as an invitation for you to take.

"There's my baby! Look, everyone! My baby is here!" he mused, pointing at you, and for a second you'll dare say that he looks nothing but an angel.

Big bright eyes, squinting just a tiny bit with how wide his grin is. Vermillion tresses frame his cheeks so well, pink pouty lips, and an adorable scrunched up nose.

An innocent one. Your innocent one.

Except you know who, what, and how he is. But you're not one to back down from a challenge. The moment you decide to date him, to let him in your life, you know that you're in for a disastrous ride.

"Really, Y/N? Him?"

"I thought you were wise and smart."

"I wish you luck, dear."

You shook the echoing voices in your head, opting to focus on the current dilemma at hand.

"Hee, let's go. Yeah?" you murmured softly when you're in front of him, attempting to get him out of this hell hole with you.

He whines, pulling you into him out of the blue, that made you yelp, gripping his shirt to steady yourself in his lap.

He dips his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, vanilla scent, a stark contrast of the environment he's in for the past few hours.

"My baby smells like cake, delicious." he hums, his hands going over your waist, and you tried your best to get him off you in a lenient manner.

"Go get a room." his friends, Jake and Sunghoon, who are also in the room fake gagged, and Heeseung didn't take that well.

He takes you with him when the annoyance shoots over his veins, hauling you with him and out of the house but not without yelling a playful yet condescending statement.

"At least I'm not like you losers! I actually have a girl that gets my dick wet!"

You kept your mouth shut, the scolding will come later but for now, it's your turn to do the dragging, ushering him into your car so you can finally drive away from here.

Arriving at your own home felt like breathing fresh air, well, the groans of your boyfriend brought you back to reality.

"Lee Heeseung!" you shout in anger, and despite being in a dopamine-incited state, he still has half a mind to be alert when you used his full government name.

"Woah, baby? Why?" he's struggling but manages to come over to you, his hands moving to wrap you in his arms.

You dodged the affection he was about to give, choosing to throw him daggers through your eyes, "Why? Why?!" you shout in pure exasperation.

"You can't just say that! I am not your toy that will 'make your dick wet!' That was so disrespectful!" you imitated his words from earlier with a mocking tone, jabbing at his chest harshly, "I don't deserve that."

His eyes soften, cupping your face and his thumbs caress your cheeks, smoothing your wrinkled features, "Of course you don't. I'm so sorry baby, I was joking with them."

"That wasn't a good joke, Hee. That hurt me." you utter, leaning into his warm touch.

How you hated it when you're this weak for him, then again, this is what you swore to protect and reveal to everyone who judged him early.

They don't know that his calloused hands from all the fighting he did can bring such velvety skinship.

They have no idea that his vulgar way of speaking can actually be so honeyed and gooey if he wants to.

They don't know him like you do. So, it is your mission to show them that a wild man can be tamed.

"I'm sorry, baby," he lifts your face, allowing you to look into his apologetic caramel orbs, "let me make it up to you, hm?"

You stare and nod, because if you're going to be honest, there's no getting out of this.

He presses his lips onto yours in a searing, messy kiss, tilting his head to further deepen it. Your hands cling to his hair, tousling it the more the make-out session gets hotter.

His hand squeezed your left breast over your clothes, causing you to moan and he took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, licking every corner that he can reach.

Your tongue clashed with his, not for dominance, but for the sole purpose of riling each other up. He moans when you suck on his tongue, unexpected surprise but he loved it nonetheless.

He returned the favor with much zeal, disconnecting from you and the string of saliva broke when he dipped his head to smooch all over your neck. Trailing open, wet mouthed kisses down your clavicle, then biting on your collarbone and sucking on the damage, leaving a purple patch on its spot.

He slowly raises his head, his pointy nose scraping on your mastoid until he reaches your ear, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your lower area to his, making you feel his hard member poking on his jeans.

"Am I doing a great job of making it up to you?" he inquires, like a puppy in need of some validation.

"I think," using your palms to lift his head, giving him an eskimo kiss, "you have to do more."

He smiles, hoisting you in his strong arms and easily manhandling you into the comforts of your shared bedroom, hurling you onto the mattress with matching pecks on your face and lips.

"Guess I'll have to do my best." he murmurs against your lips before all hell breaks loose, clothes tossed everywhere until you're both stark naked.

You gripped his hair tightly when his mouth snaked on your chest, popping a nipple and sucking on it while his left hand played with your other mound, pinching and tugging on it. His right hand slithered down your stomach, passing by your navel until it reached your core.

A gasp was heard from you when he dipped a finger in your wetness, swirling the juices around your labia and his index finger played with your clit in an up and down motion.

He lightly nibbles on your nipple before switching to the other one, giving it the same treatment as he continues his actions on your pussy.

So many sensations all at once and it had you twitching and drenching under him. He's always been good at having you at his mercy when it comes to things like this.

His ministrations came to a halt when you moaned his name. No, he won't let you come if it's not in his mouth.

Heeseung positioned himself in between your thighs, his fingers digging into your plush flesh and spreading your thighs wider, his face so close to your heat but you don't have the time to be embarrassed when he sticks and flattens his tongue out on your pussy.

He licks away your juices, humming in delight with your taste. He's not a man of patience, evident in how he inserts two of his fingers inside, curling it in a relentless pace and it hits the spongy spot perfectly.

"H-hee! Ah!" you mewled, his name is the only thing in your mind. He's so fucking good, your good boy. It shows when he frowns, concentrating on giving you the fitting pleasure to make up for his mistake.

He sucked on your clit harshly, alternating to licking it with his hardened tongue while his digits worked you to oblivion. Soon enough, you've come undone, releasing in his mouth which he graciously received, slurping you clean, only stopping when you have to physically push him away due to overstimulation.

You were breathing heavily, then you steeled yourself when you felt the tip of his manhood poke your hole. Half lidded eyes staring at him, giving him the signal that he can go on and ruin you into his liking.

"bab- fuck! Feel so good." Heeseung groaned when he entered you in one go, your walls clenching around him. When he feels your hips move, he begins to slam into you, docile at first then he hears you beg for more.

How could he even say no to his precious baby?

His hips rams harder and faster, it makes your whole body shake. Every drag of his length accompanies a squelching sound with how wet you are but you couldn't care less, it's the result of what he's making you feel.

Even in your rapture drunken stupor, you can still feel the vein on the side of his cock, sliding so exquisitely inside.

With his large hands supporting your hips, he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder, a completely different position but it allows him to plow deeper into you. Pushing his cock further until it kisses your weak spot, a rather melodious moan erupting from you and that was enough for Heeseung to know that he had hit the jackpot.

He continues fucking into you, your wetness spreading on his balls, thighs and sheets yet it turns him on so much.

He gazes down at you, and my god, a scene worthy of jacking off when he's not with you has been engraved in his brain. You are so fucking divine under him.

Eyes almost rolling in the back of your head, tiny hands grabbing the pillows for dear life, and drool running down your chin. Sensual and messy are everything he had always wanted.

He lurches down to give you a kiss, swallowing your saliva and moans, he detaches and speaks, "I fucking love you."

"I-I Hees-" you tried to return his sentiment, but a coherent sentence isn't available at the moment due to your hazy mind, courtesy of the excellent fucking you're currently receiving.

Heeseung thrusts are becoming erratic, desperate and he knows he won't last long.

"Come on baby, cum with me, yeah?" he mumbles, "Don't hold back." he orders, every word punctuated with a powerful thrust.

You opened your mouth in a silent moan, gushing on his pulsating dick and your tight walls were sufficient for him to release his seed inside, milking him dry.

He pulls out, some of his cum smearing on your womanhood, and he collapses beside you.

Aftercare can be done later, too tired for that, but never for a cuddle. He pulls you close to his heaving body, both of you catching your breath.

"I really am sorry for what I said a while ago." he mutters, rubbing consoling circles on your flushed skin.

"Do you promise not to do it again?" you gazed at him, looking for any signs of deceiving when he agreed without any hesitation, but the only thing that you see is his ethereal halo made out of his hair.

"Hee.. please don't destroy yourself." you flopped back into his sturdy chest, tracing lines on his muscles.

"Of course baby. If I did that then I won't be with you anymore. We can't have that happening."

He chuckles and you do too.

Surely, you don't need any prayers from those people who act like they care about you. They don't have to go out of their way to make their god bless you, because you are already graced with the greatest blessing.

People will judge either way if you tell them that he's your boyfriend. But none of that matters because you have already decided that he is yours, and you are his.

The next time, or should you say, for the future times where you sit inside the bar where he works at, wearing the sexiest dress you could muster that he'll inevitably rip off of you later, you can simply shrug the comments of the nosy dumbasses.

Watching him sing his heart out while playing the electric guitar, you know that he is a force to be reckoned with but he loves you, and you believe that you're the one thing he needs in this cruel world to change.. to improve.

You'll fasten his seatbelt when his journey is turbulent, anchor him when he floats too high, and you will cement him here on earth if he flies away too much.

You will do everything for him, for Lee Heeseung is your heavenly man.

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