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#I’m finally at a point where I actually feel like. good at art. and that’s sick as hell

bigfatbimbo · 4 months

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on my knees begging for some Lucifer smut. Hes such a dork I need him biblically 😭

OMG LITERALLY SAME I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA EAT HIM UP 🫶🫶

anyways i’m obsessed with him so i’m gonna do nsfw hcs and a little drabble at the end bc bestie i need him too

art by hellpple_hz on twitters

❀˖° So let me just say, if been a long time since he’s gotten laid so he’s probably so nervous about it.

❀˖° I could see him being a switch but never really a hard dom, more of a sevice top. Like when he tops it would be all about your needs.

❀˖° He definitely loves, probably prefers, when you take control and treat him. He loves feeling cared for it’s so sad.

❀˖° Has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving. He just likes to know he’s doing well.

❀˖° “good boy” “pretty boy” “pretty baby” are his favorites because he really wants to feel appreciated by you.

❀˖° If you call him on of those during sex he’ll probably whine on the spot because he’s just pathetic like that.

❀˖° Intimacy while doing it is a must. Like please hold his hand when you tell him you’re close. He wants to feel as connected to you as possible.

❀˖° I’m pretty sure Lilith canonically pegged him so… yeah he’s very into that. Being fully taken care of by you while you’re fucking your strap into him.

❀˖° He’s the king of hell and he’s probably very stressed all the time so not having to think or make decisions would make him very happy.

❀˖° When he tops, I feel like he also praises you a lot. I also don’t see him being too dominate and rough.

❀˖° His style is definitely more gentle and caring as he fucks you. He fucks you like you’re made of porcelain, not wanting to break you and only wanting to let you know how perfect you are.

❀˖° I don’t think he’s extremely kinky but I do think he’s SUPER VOCAL. Have you heard his voice? he just sounds like he whines.

❀˖° If you praise him too much he probably tears up under all the attention. Lovingly fucking him and telling him he’s perfect? He will actually cry.

❀˖° When he goes into subspace he’s actually so cute. He just begs you to tell him how well he’s doing and that you love him. To the point where he doesn’t even understand anything else if it’s not praise.

❀˖° Also very sweet during aftercare! Definitely makes breakfast for you the morning after.

“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good for me,” you cooed as you rode lucifer into what be another orgasm of the night.

“My love, nngh, please,” he whimpered and threw his head back. His face was puffy from crying and his hair was in shambles from all the attention.

“So pretty like this, sweetheart. So pretty, letting me use you as a toy,” you smile as he lets out a broken whimper from the praise.

A tear rolls down his cheek and he lets out a soft whine when you roll your hips and pick up the pace.

You lean forward and breathe into his neck, “you’re doing amazing, Luci, you’re taking it so well.”

He half sobs and arches his back. You pepper kisses all over his tear-covered as your hands lovingly trace his body.

“Please…” he whispers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Please what, baby?” You say sweetly as you continue to milk him dry with your pussy.

“Please,” his brows furrow tightly as if he’s trying to remember how to speak under all the pleasure, “please let me cum.”

You smile and ride him faster, starting to loose composure yourself now.

“Whenever you want, Luci,” you sigh and let your head fall slightly back as you feel your own climax approaching.

Lucifer whined loudly and bucked his hips up into your cunt.

“My love, nngh,” he moaned uselessly as his eyes filled with more tears. You picked up the pace and Lucifer arched into your touch, chasing his orgasm.

“Good boy, making me feel so good, baby.”

That was his breaking point. With your climax following soon after, he moaned loudly, finally releasing and falling back onto the mattress, chest heaving.

“Oh my goodness,” he panted, “Th-thank you, my love.” He shut his eyes and softly smiled, exhaustion finally setting in.

“You did amazing,” you say softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek before picking yourself up off of his overstimulated cock.

His eyes fluttered open slightly when he felt your hand slowly tracing down to the base of his cock.

“But we’re not done yet.”

a/n: real men say ‘oh my goodness’ after an orgasm

remember that

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #dom reader #hazbin hotel smut

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art · 7 months

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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point.

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #deb jj lee #jdebbiel

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kisses4kaia · 22 days

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plsss I NEED switch!Patrick x switch!Reader with like, him being dominant in the beginning and sub in the end, with them mentioning art the whole time trying to make each other jealous about him? Idk if it make sense but kinda like when tashi was saying patrick should be intimidated by art except in that case they both had sex with him (separately) and they're more like "yeah? can art make you cum this fast hm?" etc

okay👍👍👍👍👍(im actually drooling this is so good ty angelnon)

“on his birthday, i fucked him so good he forgot his own name,” patrick boasted, pressing hot, angry, open-mouthed kisses to your puffy lips. “i do that everyday,” you breath out, pulling your shorts down desperately, throwing them somewhere obscured in your tiny dorm. he’d already undressed amidst the heat of your quarreling, and you were grateful. you didn’t know how long you could wait and stay sane before he would finally fuck you.

patrick huffs from above you, throwing your leg over his shoulder and bullying his unfairly sized cock into your cunt. he’s ramming into you at such a speed where you can hardly feel when he’s snapping his hips back and at what point does he push back in. “i fuck him better, i fuck him so much better,” is all you can mutter out, tugging on patrick’s hair as your hips grind up onto his un-groomed pelvis, unable to get close enough to him. “mm-mm, nope. have you ever made him cum dry? i have.”

“he ever let you film him?” is your rebuttal, smirking cruelly at patrick as he nearly whimpers at your confession; he makes a mental note to himself to ensure he sees it—by any means necessary.

patrick quickly finds himself getting lost in the heat of it all, the brutal nips at his throat upon dipping his head in the crook of your neck make him melt.

he’s made himself pliable enough for you to ease his full weight onto you with no protest. he whines as you slip his cock out of you, but his head stays buried in the junction between your head and shoulder. your hand slides between the two of you, tugging at his cock and using your free hand to prompt him to look you in the eye.

“you wanna come?” you falsely pout at the darkened blue eyes boring into yours. “mhm, yes. please,” he says, not really begging because he knows you would never deny him an orgasm… right?

“say you can’t fuck him like i can.” your voice is completely devoid of any of the sweetness dripping from it just moments ago. patrick shakes his head ‘no’, resulting in a harsh tug on his scalp. “so what i’m hearing is you really want me to get up and make you watch me get myself off, and then leave? that’s what you want, patrick?”

he shakes his head fervently, “no, no, no, please,” if he’s begging to cum or begging to change the conditions, you don’t know, but you cup your palm over patrick’s flushed tip regardless, circling over it and making him squirm atop you.

“say it.”

“i can’t fuck him like you can! fuck, you’re better than me, so much fucking better. please, i wanna cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease—“

he’s had enough, you’d decided. “cum, patrick.”

those words have him unraveling, a load unlike one you’ve ever seen comes out of him, shooting all over his and your bare stomachs and your hand.

his dick fucks into your hand languidly as he rides out his own climax. you make sure to clean him up with your mouth, and patrick’s fingers drive you to your finish.

and when the high is gone and the smell of sex in lingering in your dorm, you fall asleep on your friend’s chest.

little do you know, when patrick is sure you’re asleep, he grabs your phone, punches in tashi’s birthday for your password, and opens your camera roll. he’s only looking for one thing when he not only finds the amateur film, but also photos of his girlfriend’s naked body splayed out on the very bed he lie on now.

he looks at you no different the next morning.

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writingwithcolor · 5 months

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Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh

#culture #cultural disconnect #creator responsibility #writing #authors of color #asks

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shmaba · 1 year

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I’m going to assume that at this point you’ve all seen Critical Role’s new show Candela Obscura and at least skimmed through the Quickstart Guide (you have done all that riiiight??) So I wanted to compile all the things I’ve done that have been shown so far. Its long so read below the line!

I’m going to try to avoid spoilers. So feel free to read without worry. I’m also going to try and avoid breaking any NDA like a good professional. So I will not be doing some deep dive behind the scenes thing. Only visuals that have already been publicly shared are going to be on here

The very first thing I did on this show was the concepts for the main set. Everything is practical. Nothing is green screen or cg or whatever. Some people think it’s just good cg but nope that's all real. You could touch it! (don’t touch it, there are ghosts)

There were multiple iterations on the design, each with their own vibe and statement piece. CR narrowed it down to what you see in the show: a sort of storage hall with an odd clock contraption behind the GM. I think I called this design version the “Abyssal Hall” or something like that (I gave the different versions names to better keep track of which design was being discussed)

The company Flip This Bitch built the physical set. They turned my silly little art into a real thing. So they did all the actual magic of making this set come together in the end! They deserve a lot of the credit for it looking so good in the end.

Also that little piece of art in the bottom left of the preshow is a section from the final concept art of the set.

That contraption behind Matt is based on astrolabes and clocks. This isn’t really meant to be a literal astrolabe or a clock as we would use them in our world. Narratively this isn’t a device that measures either of the things that a traditional astrolabe or clock does. This is a special magickal tool that does a secret third thing.

Also I did concepts for the GM screen. You don't really see it besides in the fancy-shmancy preshow. There were a number of more intricate designs for it but CR went with the simpler option since the only part that would be visible on stream is the top, so that's where I put the most detail.

I should also note that I did not design the logo! It’s pretty prominent on the GM screen but I was supplied an already existing logo for this.

NEXT is the Taliesin enclosure set that you see in the trailer. This is actually meant to be like the lantern room on the top of a lighthouse, minus the big light beacon (You could say Taliesin is the beacon).

Also in the trailer you see a couple brief sketches I did for some world building concepts:

Speaking of sketches there are a number of art pieces of mine in the Quickstart guide

A lot of my art is sketches. They’re all meant to be like notes and drawings from members of Candela as they travel and notate their findings. Most of the notes on these sketches are my actually my notes when I was doing world building concepts, but they replaced my handwriting with a font because my handwriting sucks lmao (also likely for ease of future localization).

Also the cover of the Quickstart guide uses line art of a part of that astrolabe clock set piece. This line art was part of the deliverables that was sent over to Flip This Bitch for construction. They’re just using pieces of those set concepts everywhere!

As you can see I’ve done a lot of art for this project. I was part of this project when it was still early in development. It’s changed quite a bit from where we started.

I wasn’t the only one that made all this art happen though. Other artists, writers, and designers got to add their own vision to this. It was very much a collaborative effort that took a long time to happen. It’s very exciting to see everyone’s hard work come to fruition and there is a lot more to come!

#candela obscura #critical role #my art #ttrpg #illustration #art #cr #candela spoilers #I could say a lot about what went into each thing #but that would be too long #this is already too long #more art is coming #you’ll see it in the final release of the rules/setting book #also it’s very likely a significant amount of art won’t ever be show to the public #such is the life of a concept artist

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commanderyes · 3 months

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The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

#guild wars 2 #guild wars 2 fan art #guild wars 2 fan submission #snargle gutslurper #commander yes #that's all folks #thank you for everything #keep loving yourselves okay? you're worth it #all of you #see you in the game :)

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egophiliac · 7 months

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I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.

Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?

oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D

I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!

I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)

the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!

personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.

it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!

(blue - thirds, red - half)

and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):

(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)

other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:

and frame and control the focus:

honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!

NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

#art #sketch #twisted wonderland #...technically i guess? it's not about twst but there is twst art present anyway #i did have a few more examples but then i wasn't sure if you were cool with episode 7 spoilers. whoops. 🫠#many other people have explained the rule of thirds and directional flow way better than me and i apologize #it is so hard to put things into words i am so sorry #me: the...you know...the lines...they sort of converge? like a triangle?#the internet: mm-hmm. yes. go on.#me: (sweating) the...the triangle points here...because it...it has a point.#the internet: it's doing better than you are then #genuinely shocked at how well some of these line up though #uh. i mean. actually it was all totally intentional and i put actual thought into it! NOT an accident at all!#my eyes darting back and forth shiftily are just ✨following the paths✨

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domjaehyun · 2 years

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HUSH, HUSH.

༄ pairing » jeno, haechan, jaemin x fem!reader

༄ genre » smut

༄ word count » 19.5k

༄ smut warnings » foursome, praise kink, some degradation, mild dubcon (bc it’s me obviously), a good ol’ “just the tip” moment, some marking, spit play, cum eating, finger sucking, handjob, slightly sadistic dom!Jaemin and dom!Haechan, sweeter and softer dom!Jeno, slight dumbification, fingering, oral (receiving & giving), overstimulation, and more 💖

༄ notes » i hope you enjoy! please leave feedback if you liked it :)

“Mark, please tell me you’re joking.” You’re positive your frown can be heard in your voice as you whine into your phone.

“I really wish I was,” Mark groans, the now muffled words most likely meaning that Mark’s just clapped his hand over his face. “Coach says we’re gonna be stuck here until the mechanic from the next town over can get here to fix the bus.”

“Why would you guys go to an away game in a town so small it doesn’t even have emergency services?” You ask in disbelief.

Mark sighs. “I don’t know, but you know how this goes; Coach says ‘jump’ and the whole ice hockey team says ‘how high?’”

Huffing, you glower at your phone like he can see you. “Wimps, all of you.”

“Oh, yeah? Tell that to Chaewon.” He suggests, and you’re suddenly glad he can’t see your face fall.

“Oh, boy…how’s she holding up?” You ask hesitantly, and your question is answered when the tell-tale sound of a notorious Chaewon Tirade filters in from the background. You wince, feeling for the poor recipient getting chewed out by her, and realize that the sound of her ranting is getting louder.

“…I mean, honestly, Coach, what did you expect when you take a rickety old bus, drive it for miles without getting a check up before we left in the first place, like I suggested to you—hello?” Chaewon’s rampage comes to a screeching halt when she realizes it’s you on the other end of the phone. “I’m guessing you heard that…” Her pout is audible through the phone, your irate best friend now sounding more like an upset child.

“I sure did,” You snicker. “Cannot believe you regularly yell at Coach Park.”

“I think I’m the only person he lets yell at him.” She whispers back, and you laugh. “I made him book us hotel rooms so we can stay here overnight until the mechanic comes tomorrow and we can get the hell out of here, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other and maybe he’ll finally get sick of me.”

“Just another day as the ice hockey team manager.” You joke, and Chaewon sighs deeply. “Is it still worth the credit?”

“It sure is! No homework, barely any actual work, and I get to yell at the teacher? So worth it.” She answers incredulously. She has a point, you realize, nodding in understanding to your audience of approximately no one. “Next year, you can be my assistant manager and get course credit, too!”

“We’ll see,” You reply with a smile that fades with your next words. “I’m bummed you guys can’t come to our sleepover. It’s tradition!” You sigh, pacing around your living room double-checking to see if there’s anything left to tidy up that you might have missed. You fluff a couch pillow and prop it up, patting it for good measure before continuing, “I mean, first Renjun has an art project due Monday, then you and Mark were gonna get here later because of the away game, but now you’re not coming at all,” You frown, “So now it’s just me, Haechan, Jaemin, and Jeno.”

“Well, that’s still fun! Chaotic, really, because Mark, Renjun and I regularly do damage control and run interference between you four, but definitely fun.” Chaewon’s attempts to console you end up helping more than her actual words, but you’re still downcast, picking invisible pieces of lint off of the other pillow on the opposite end of the couch.

“Are any of them there yet?” She asks, and you sigh.

“Nope,” You mutter. “Jaemin and Jeno have to finish some project they’re doing at the library, and who even knows where Haechan–” Your doorbell rings, and you flinch at the unexpected sound. “Hold on one second,” You murmur into the phone, making your way to the front door as Chaewon hums in acknowledgement. You look through the peephole and swing your door open. “It’s just you.” You sigh in relief as Haechan stands before you, duffel bag in hand.

“I think I deserve a little more excitement than saying it’s ‘just’ me.” Haechan narrows his eyes at you, a playful glint to them, and breezes past you, kicking off his shoes in your hallway and dropping his duffel bag by the couch. Rolling your eyes, you shut and lock your front door, walking back to where Haechan sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Oh, my God!” You gasp in exaggerated excitement, bouncing up and down. “It’s Haechan,” You sigh dreamily into the phone, shooting Haechan a brow-raised look of “is that what you wanted?” and barely bite back a laugh at the retching noise Chaewon makes. Haechan lunges at you with one hand outstretched, ready to flick you on the forehead, and you yelp in alarm, darting around your couch so it’s separating the two of you.

“I’m gonna let you go before things get weird—or, should I say, weirder—and I have to bear witness to it.” She says with a shudder, but, if you’re being honest, you’re barely focusing on her words, your mind more preoccupied with dodging Haechan’s attempts to reach you. “Have fun tonight! Mark and I will see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

“Bye!” You say distractedly, thumb blindly tapping at the red call-ending button as you adjust your position for the third time, running around one side of the couch as Haechan chases you. “Haechan, it was a joke!”

“Too bad,” He replies easily, staring you down with a gaze so intent and determined it brings heat to your face. “This is what you get for being so bratty.”

“Aw, come on! That was barely bratty.” You defend yourself, huffing and crossing your arms. “You’ve seen me do worse.”

“So? That was then. This is now.”

“‘This is now,’” You mock his words in a high-pitched, nasal voice before you can stop yourself and swallow thickly when Haechan raises his brow in a challenge.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Haechan, it slipped out—” You start, but he’s not listening at all, his eyes darting around the living room and studying the layout as he undoubtedly brainstorms some sort of attack plan. He stops, finally, and looks directly at you with a sly smile that definitely doesn’t bode well for you before he darts forward. You shriek and make a run for it just as he’s about to vault over the couch to reach you, your legs autopiloting you into the kitchen.

Haechan’s hot on your heels, fingers still outstretched towards you. His fingertips graze the back of your shirt and you shriek, now startled enough for Haechan to surge forward and snag the fabric, curling his hand into a fist and yanking you back towards him. Your back collides with his chest none too gently, and you crane your head to look behind you at him with worry sitting in your throat like a lump.

“Hi,” You try, shooting him a sheepish smile over your shoulder.

“Shut up,” He scoffs, whirling you around and flicking you directly on the forehead before you can defend yourself. “That’s for the sarcasm earlier.” He says with a huff as you hiss in pain. “And that–”

“Ouch, damn it–”

“–is for mocking me just now.” He smiles tauntingly at you, and you glower at him, rubbing your sore forehead, now doubly so because Haechan had the audacity to flick you twice in the exact same spot and you don’t think he held back very much, if at all.

“You know what? Sleepover canceled for you.”

“What?!” He squawks indignantly, and you nod resolutely, pointing dramatically towards your front door.

“Yep, you’re uninvited! Get out of my apartment.” Jerking your chin towards the door, you wait not-so-patiently as Haechan complains loudly.

“Come on,” He groans, and you turn your nose up and away from him with a dramatic sniffle.

“That’s what you get for the cruel and unusual punishment you inflicted on me just now,” You decide, rubbing your forehead gingerly with a frown.

“It was two flicks to the forehead!”

“It hurt, you ass!”

“God, okay, what…um…” He trails off, lost in thought before a slow, flirtatious grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, boy.” You sigh loudly, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose to calm yourself. When you reopen them, you flinch at Haechan’s sudden proximity to you, and he chuckles as you glare at him.

“What if I offer to kiss it better?” He lilts, leaning closer to you with a wiggle of his brows.

“No.” Your flat reply doesn’t seem to discourage him, Haechan only stepping closer to you with a widening grin.

“Aw, come on,” He murmurs, his lips gradually making their way to your ear, “I bet you’d like it.”

“This is exactly why I need Mark around. Or Chaewon, or Renjun, or—really, anyone who’s not you.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry,” You hum remorselessly. “But I’m right; this is why we shouldn’t be alone together—you just torment me.”

“You think we shouldn’t be alone together because I’m too attractive for your own good.” Haechan says smugly, and you snort derisively.

“I think we shouldn’t be alone together because you’re too sleazy for my own good, Haechan.” You counter smoothly, and you half-predicted Haechan’s offended gasp that rings out, but it still startles you all the same.

“I’m sleazy.” Haechan’s tone is flat and entirely disbelieving, staring you down. To his credit, the reality of the situation really is closer to his interpretation.

There’s always been some sort of tension between you and Haechan—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t swoon a bit when he pulled you against his chest earlier and when he cornered you in the kitchen—that manifests from time to time as lingering glances and touches, flirtatious remarks that land a bit too seriously, and an underlying desire neither of you can seem to shake.

“Yep. Sleazy.” You say, lying through your teeth as you drag out the syllables of the insult. “It’s a miracle you pull at all.”

“My reputation precedes me,” He answers with a smug edge to his defensiveness. “When you’re as good as I am, people line up around the block for a chance with you.”

“Maybe they just wanna witness the trainwreck that you are in person,” You snicker mischievously. “Y’know—up close and personal.”

“I get the feeling you wanna experience it for yourself.” Haechan’s smug grin damn near knocks you off of your feet from how dazzling it is, and you can’t help but acknowledge internally that he kind of has a point; you do kinda want to see for yourself, but you’re not exactly keen on admitting that right now.

“Shut up, you’re so obnoxious.” You huff, pushing his chest to move him back and away from you. He barely moves, his smile widening as he takes a step forward instead.

“Wrong direction,” You gripe.

“No, I’m pretty sure this is where I want to be,” He breathes out, seemingly distracted as his gaze slowly drops to your lips. An alarmed squeak escapes you and he chuckles. “Matter of fact, I think you want me here, too.”

“What?!” You exclaim indignantly, and he brings one hand to your mouth and presses a finger to your lips to silence you.

“Anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” He rolls his eyes and presses forward until he’s got you pressed up against the cool metal of your fridge, dark brown eyes boring into your own.

“No,” You counter, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m sure you get that a lot.” You jerk your head forward in an attempt to snap at his finger, and Haechan pauses, letting out a hollow chuckle as he pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek and stares you down and you hate to admit it, but that was one of the most attractive things he’s ever done.

“You know what?” Haechan doesn’t give you a chance to answer before his free hand is wrapping around the base of your throat and squeezing—not too tight as to alarm you or truly choke you, but tight enough to make his hand’s presence impossible to ignore. The gasp that slips from your lips brings a wicked little smile to his face and he leans in closer so his lips are pressed against the back of the finger he’s holding against your mouth, the slender digit the only thing separating your lips. “You’re gonna regret that.” His warm breath fans over your lips and you swallow thickly, widened eyes darting between his temptingly parted lips and his intent stare.

You watch in a frozen fascination as Haechan slowly removes his finger from between you two, his lips now but a breath away, and watches you in turn. His hand trails from your face down your front, just lightly skimming over your stomach to draw out a sudden exhale from you, and to the hem of the large oversized shirt you’ve been wearing around the apartment. He watches your face with a challenge twinkling in his eyes as he slips his hand under your shirt, almost daring you to stop him. When his hand slides up to cup your breast through your thin, lacy bra, you just barely manage to bite back a whine, and he traces small circles around your nipple, soon pinching it lightly between two fingers and tugging, a triumphant grin curling his lips when you hiss, the sound a combination of surprise and desire.

“You look so pretty with my hand wrapped around your throat,” Haechan coos fondly, voice dripping with condescension, and you whine softly in despair, wanting him to just do something. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He whispers, almost to himself as he studies your reaction while he toys with your stiffened peak.

His lips are getting closer by the second, his head tilting slightly to the side, but when you lean in to meet him, his hand on your throat pushes you back against the fridge, moving you away from his gradually approaching lips. He leans in close enough that you could count every one of his lashes, and wets his bottom lip, the tip of his tongue ever-so-slightly grazing your own lip, and you whimper in anticipation, trying to lean forward again. Haechan scoffs under his breath and remains unyielding, your head still pinned against the fridge as he brings himself right up against you—surely any closer and you’d be kissing—and just…stops.

“Maybe I shouldn’t kiss you right now,” He murmurs, and you’re surprised to realize that you genuinely don’t want him to stop.

“Why?” You ask breathlessly, and he looks upwards as if in thought, his hand under your shirt starting to caress your breast, the male seemingly oblivious to the way your back arches, pushing your chest into his hand for more.

“Isn’t this kind of…y’know…sleazy of me?” He throws the word back in your face with such a smug tone, so unbearably cocky that your knees almost buckle. “I mean, I’ve got you pinned up against the fridge…my hand’s up your shirt and playing with your tits…and I’m about to kiss you. Sounds pretty sleazy to me,” He shrugs, actions both supporting and contradicting his words as he swirls his finger around your nipple again, flicking the bud.

“Haechan, please–”

“Can I tell you something, though?” He brings his lips to your ear and you freeze in place, barely managing a stiff nod. His soft chuckle sends warmth fanning over your skin and you shudder before he continues on, “I think you like it.”

“Wh—um,” You stammer, and he pulls back to grin at you, eyes scanning your face. “Well, I mean—”

“Yeah, I think you do,” He marvels softly, fingers tightening around your neck. “Practically choked yourself on my hand trying to kiss me a moment ago,” Haechan points out and your face burns as you’re rendered speechless. “Bet if I put my hand between your legs–” He starts, and you whine loudly in embarrassment, Haechan continuing on louder, “you’d be nice and wet for me,” He finishes with a proud little smile, murmuring, “I thought so,” when you don’t respond, your gaze averted in shame.

“Haechan–” You start, and he shushes you, tongue peeking out to lick at your upper lip.

“You like this? Hm? Like how it feels when your sleazy friend Haechan feels you up with one hand and chokes you with the other?”

“Yes,” You whimper, and he coos affectionately at your worked-up state.

“What if sleazy Haechannie slips his hand down here, hm?” He brings his hand out from under your shirt and toys with the waistband of your shorts. Thankfully, before you have to ask, he pushes into your pants, fingers deftly navigating down to your heated core and cupping it through your damp underwear, digging the heel of his palm into your clit and grinning as you writhe under his touch. “I think you like that, too.” The smugness in his voice is almost palpable but you don’t even have your wits about you enough to feel shame or indignance, lust clouding your mind and leaving you dizzy and desiring.

“Stop teasing,” You exhale, and he raises an eyebrow, leaning in so your lips are almost touching. At the same time, he tightens his grip around your neck slightly and pushes you against the fridge harder so you can’t move towards him, and you whine in desperation. “Please?” You try, and he flicks his gaze up to you, intrigue twinkling in his eyes.

“Please…what?” He asks tauntingly, head cocked to the side curiously.

“Do something, fuck, please–” You don’t even get to finish your plea before he’s surging forward with a growl and connecting your lips. A drawn out whine escapes you as you all but melt into him, lips parting easily as his tongue nudges between them and sneaks into your mouth for a taste of you.

“Such a little tease,” Haechan grunts against your lips, releasing your core and massaging your clit with two nimble fingers. “Always knew you wanted this.”

You can’t even form words in response, your head lolling back in ecstasy as you let out a mix between a moan and a gasp, but Haechan doesn’t seem to mind, lips attaching to your neck as he kisses, sucks, and bites marks into your neck. You can only manage to moan, “No marking,” as he sucks, and he pulls back, mouth detaching from your skin with a wet noise, and stares at you with an unimpressed expression.

“You’re already marked,” He points out, tracing what must be the beginnings of a love bite forming on your neck with a proud grin. “I might as well get to finish.”

“…Fine,” You give in, and he beams, leaning forward and kissing you again, lips slotting between yours easily as he nips at your lip. Groaning when you rock into his hand desperately, Haechan trails wet kisses down your neck and sucks hard at the base of your throat, a mark surely blooming from his efforts.

“Want them to wonder who did this to you,” Haechan grunts, and you can only keen weakly in response, fingernails scratching at his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him closer to you. “Make them wish they’d gotten to you first.” His words sink in a moment later, a confused hum bubbling up and out from inside of you at the notion that Jeno and Jaemin have not-so-platonic feelings for you. Haechan doesn’t give you much time to process what he’s said, the male growing greedier for your reactions and pushing your underwear to the side, guiding two fingers into your clenching entrance. “Whole time, you and I know who did this to you; don’t we, pretty?”

“Y-Yeah,” You moan weakly, and Haechan chuckles, the sound’s darkened edge sending a chill of excitement down your spine.

“Who did this to you?” Haechan nips at the mark on the base of your neck, and you cry out with a jolt.

“You did,” You answer breathlessly, your mind going fuzzy as Haechan’s fingers stroke along your inner walls, finding your most sensitive spot with ease and proceeding to send his fingers thrusting directly into it.

“Mm-mm,” He hums, dissatisfied. “I wanna hear you say my name.”

“Haechan–” You give in immediately, your desperation building as his fingers bring you closer and closer to your climax.

“Again.”

“Haechan–” You can barely get the last syllable out before Haechan seals his mouth over yours with a barely restrained groan, his fingers diligently pumping in and out of you as he plays with your tongue. “Gonna cum,” You pant, voice higher-pitched and embarrassingly whiny, and he hums in acknowledgement.

“I should probably stop,” He pulls back to say, feigning a pout, and you glare at him in disbelief.

“Don’t you dare.”

“But look at us,” Haechan presses, and you whimper as your hips rock down onto his fingers. “Isn’t this sleazy of me?”

“Haechan, I’m sorry–”

“You’re sorry?” He asks slowly, smugness creeping into his voice. “So you don’t want me to stop?” He continues, and when you shake your head vehemently, he makes a noise of understanding. “You like that, don’t you? Sleazy Haechannie’s fingers feel so good stuffed deep in your tight little pussy, right?” He purrs, and you let out as quiet of a wail as you can manage.

“Yes, Haechan, please just let me cum–” You’re more than exasperated at this point and Haechan must notice, because he closes his mouth over yours in a passionate kiss, occasionally stopping to bite or suck at your bottom lip.

“Cum for me, pretty. That’s it, fuck, just like that.” With his lips on yours muffling the moans you let out, Haechan urges you to the edge of your climax, eyes bright with an almost wild desire as he watches you tip over the brink. Your orgasm comes in a rush of ecstasy and electricity, adrenaline flooding through your veins as you cry Haechan’s name loudly and breathlessly whisper a string of swears, your nails digging into his shoulder in an attempt to ground yourself.

“Oh, my God,” You exhale shakily as he slowly pulls his hand from your underwear, your flustered gaze immediately darting elsewhere when you get a glimpse of the clear strings of your arousal clinging to his fingers. You peek back at him only to catch his fingers moving towards his mouth, averting your gaze again with a scandalized yelp. No amount of looking away, however, stops Haechan from flattening his body against yours, pressing you between himself and the fridge.

“Watch me.” He orders quietly, and you begrudgingly drag your gaze back to his face, astonished eyes widening when he slips his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. “You taste good,” Haechan groans, releasing his grip on your throat and studying you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Stop staring at me like that.” You huff, and he raises an eyebrow, warning you to tread with caution.

“You know, I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter like the cute little fuckdoll I know you are,” He retorts, moving to grab your hips with both hands and massaging little circles into the flesh as he watches you in fascination. “Watch your tone and don’t push your luck.”

“I’m not a fuckdoll,” You protest, and Haechan just scoffs, gripping your hips tighter and turning you around with no regard for the startled yelp you let out, positioning you so your back is to his chest and your front is pressed up against the counter just beside the fridge. “Hae–Haechan, what are you doing?” You ask in a sort of post-climax daze still tinged with alarm, but Haechan yanks your shorts down to your knees, startling you into silence.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Haechan huffs under his breath, knocking your legs as far apart as they’ll go. “‘M fucking you,” He coos teasingly in your ear before pushing between your shoulder blades to flatten your torso to the counter.

“I thought you were holding back—”

“I changed my mind.”

You don’t have it in you to respond, instead resting your cheek on the cool countertop in complacency, and Haechan chuckles.

“That’s it,” He coaxes, simultaneously guiding the head of his cock to nestle between your folds. He pushes in slowly, a relieved breath whooshing from you as his length gradually fills you up. Your relief turns to alarm when you realize you feel full and he’s not done, and you whimper, reaching back to press a hand to his stomach reflexively. “Move your hand.” He grunts, and you shake your head worriedly, whining in panic. “Why are you stopping me, hm?” He strokes your back soothingly and you relax slightly, craning your head to look back at him.

“It’s too much,” You manage to get out, and he snickers.

“Too much? Am I too big, pretty?” He coos, feigning sympathy as he cruelly pushes in more, and you gasp loudly, pushing harder against his stomach. “Move your hand.”

“But–”

“Move it.” He says in a warning tone as if daring you to keep your hand there. After a moment of hesitation, you comply, moving your hand slowly. As soon as he sees an opportunity, he pushes into you fully, a low groan from him meeting your choked whimper. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Haechan hisses, and his fingers dig into your hips as he strains himself trying not to thrust into you.

“You can move, I think,” You murmur carefully, regretting it the second he does. Your hand flies back to stop him with a rushed, “Wait–”

He doesn’t give you a chance to make contact with his stomach, instead snatching your wrist and pressing it to your back.

“Relax,” Haechan purrs. “I’ll make it feel really good.” His promise does little to ease your worries, especially considering the way he’s digging his fingers into your hips as if restraining himself from moving inside of you.

“I–” You start, but he shushes you patronizingly as he pulls out slowly and pushes into you again. “Oh, fuck,” You whimper, your walls clenching around him as he moves inside of you.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl,” He mutters under his breath, and you cry out when he slides his hand up to grope your breast and tweak your nipple between his fingers. He pinches, twists, flicks, and tugs the erect bud with every thrust he makes until you’re a panting, teary-eyed mess under him, your jaw going slack from all the sensations.

You’re utterly trapped, stuck between Haechan’s body and the hard countertop, and the revelation comes with a wave of arousal when you realize you’re essentially at his mercy, your eyes glazing over as your body practically goes limp.

“Yeah, relax, pretty,” He coos, his hand abandoning your hip and finding itself between your legs to massage circles into your clit. “Take me nice and deep—feel so fucking good.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “So good at taking cock, aren’t you? Just a pretty little thing who needs her holes filled.”

“No—” You start to protest, but a well-placed thrust from Haechan has your mind scrambling, any and all words dying on your tongue.

“Mm, yes,” He hums, a grin audible in his voice. “Just a pretty little fuckdoll—my pretty fuckdoll—who loves getting fucked cock-dumb by her sleazy friend in her kitchen up against her fridge.” He stills his hips and you move to whip your head around to look at him, whining when he turns your head back to face forward.

“I said–fuck, Haechan–I said sorry,” You cry out, and he chuckles.

“Not forgiven yet.” He groans, and you can tell he wants to move just as badly as you want him to. You retaliate by clenching around him repeatedly, relishing the choked moan he lets out.

“What do I have to do?” You plead desperately, and he leans forward, lips by your ear.

“Cum all over my cock and I’ll consider forgiving you.” He purrs, resuming his thrusts to your relief. “So fucking tight, fuck—so good at taking cock—is that all you’re good for?”

“No,” You protest, but Haechan’s not having it.

“My cock feels so good with your pussy wrapped around it nice and tight.” He groans, biting down on your shoulder. “Gonna have to do a lot more convincing if you want me to think you’re good for anything else.”

“God, fuck you,” You huff through gritted teeth, not caring in the moment what might happen to you for snapping at him, but Haechan just chuckles.

“You already are.” His reply is smug and filled with challenge, daring you to reply, but you don’t take the bait, instead digging your nails into your palm to stop yourself from crying out again.

“Oh, shit, I’m so close–” You gasp, and Haechan massages circles into your clit, ushering in your climax as your mind goes blank and your eyes are forced shut from the pleasure. Your jaw going slack, you can only whimper Haechan’s name as pleasure courses through your body, and he moans, fucking you intently through your climax until you’ve ridden it for as far as it’ll go before speeding up.

“God, I never thought I’d hear you say my name like that,” He murmurs in awe. “That’s so fucking hot. And now? It’s my turn.” He grunts, a smile audible in his voice as his thrusts escalate to an almost brutal pace, each powerful stroke accompanied by a moan that fills your now blank mind with clouds of desire. “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty?”

“Yeah,” You exhale with a vigorous nod, and he hums appreciatively before bottoming out in you, hips stilling as he releases into you. You two remain like that for another moment before he pulls out of you, releasing his grip on you and rubbing your back gingerly.

“You good?” He asks breathlessly, and you nod again, looking over your shoulder and smiling at him. “Would help if you said something.” He jokes lightly, and you join in on his chuckle as you turn around, reaching down to pull your underwear and shorts back up.

“I’m great,” You assure him, and he visibly relaxes, a wide smile overtaking his features.

“Not so sleazy now, am I?” He teases, and you roll your eyes.

“Let it go!” You’re about to say more, but a random sniff of the air has you wrinkling up your nose in distaste. It smells like sweat and sex, and that’s gotta go if you plan to have more people over.

“Haechan, pass me that air freshener?” You ask, looking pointedly at the can on the counter nearest to him and he jerks his head back in confusion before obliging, tucking himself back into his pants. You promptly go berserk spraying everywhere and accidentally give Haechan a face full of air freshener, making him cough and splutter.

“What are you spraying, you crazy woman?” Haechan chokes out, and you turn to glower at him.

“The smell of sex away!”

“It does not smell like sex,” Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes, and you glare at him, lifting your hand and spraying him directly in the chest. “Hey, you little brat!”

“If Jeno and Jaemin come in and figure out what we did here, things are gonna get super awkward.” You explain worriedly.

Haechan snorts. “You’re telling me.”

“…What?”

“…Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Nothing.” He insists in a singsong voice, and you roll your eyes.

“Haechan, tell me!” You groan, and he shakes his head resolutely.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” He assures you cryptically, patting the top of your head patronizingly.

“What do you mean by that—oh, shit!” You cut yourself off with a yell of surprise when someone knocks loudly at your front door, and you shoot a panicked glance to a very unbothered Haechan. “Haechan, be a man and get the door.” You urge in a loud whisper, and Haechan stares blankly at you, unimpressed.

“It’s probably just Jeno and Jaemin,” He points out.

“Then you should have no problem getting it,” You counter with a furrowed brow, and he groans before turning on his heel and heading out of sight to your front door. The door opens and you can just make out Haechan’s voice greeting the mystery party, your grip on your air freshener loosening in relief. “Haechan, who is it?”

“Three large, burly criminals,” Haechan drawls in a bored tone. “They’ve got me at knifepoint.”

“Haechan, you’re not funny.” You call back, annoyed.

“Who’s being funny?” Haechan answers back defensively. “They told me they’re going to do…how did they put it? Oh, yeah—‘so much crime.�� They said they would do all of the crimes right now in your apartment.”

“You’re the worst.” You gripe as Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin round the corner of your hallway, your mouth cracking into a relieved grin as you recognize your friends. “Hey, guys.”

“Hi, scaredy-cat,” Haechan teases, flinching away at your sharp glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you, you were here already.” You wave Haechan off with a scoff. “And you just flinched away from the scaredy-cat, so what does that make you–”

“Will you two quit bickering, please?” Jaemin sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “You really are skittish, though,” He mumbles under his breath, mildly amused, and you gasp in betrayal as Haechan exclaims victoriously.

“Get out of my apartment.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“Be careful to close the door quietly though, so it doesn’t spook her.” Haechan snickers, and you whine loudly, slouching against the fridge.

“Oh, shut up,” Jeno pipes up, glowering at Haechan and Jaemin as he makes his way over to you and drapes his arm around your shoulders. “I think it’s cute,” He assures you, and you let out a soft, petulant hmph, not wanting to admit that Jeno calling you cute stirred up feelings in you that you didn’t know you had.

“Thanks,” You grouch. “Mark and Chaewon can’t make it, by the way.”

“Really? What happened at their away game?” Haechan asks, baffled.

You shrug. “Their bus broke down and the closest mechanic’s in the next town over and can’t come until the morning, so they’re staying at a hotel; that’s what they told me.”

“That sucks,” Jeno winces. “For them. Not us.”

“Yeah, now we get you all to ourselves. Chaewon always hogs you.” Jaemin winks in your direction, and you blink impassively at him. He sighs. “You’re still annoyed about the skittish thing—”

“I’m still annoyed about the skittish thing, yes.” You say, crossing your arms and leaning closer into Jeno’s warm side hug. Always a fan of physical affection, Jeno squeezes you and accepts readily when you curl into his side and wrap your arms around his waist in a full hug. “Jeno’s the only person here who actually treats me right.” You huff, turning your nose up disdainfully.

“Clearly someone else was treating you right recently,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, and you poke your head up to glare at him.

“What was that?”

“If the mark on your neck is anything to go by,” Jaemin says, jerking his chin in your direction, “I’d say someone else was treating you right recently.” His words are slow, playfully condescending and accompanied with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, and you frown, turning further into Jeno’s embrace.

“Everyone but Jeno…get out!” You cry dramatically, and Haechan and Jaemin protest immediately, their voices overlapping, but you drown them out easily as you look up at Jeno and smile widely, continuing with, “I bought chocolate milk, by the way.”

“No way!” Jeno’s whole face lights up, and you nod, releasing him to turn and open your fridge to him. “You’re the best.” He gushes excitedly, unwinding his arms from around you to reach in and grab the gallon.

“Yeah, to you,” Haechan grouches as he watches Jeno pour himself a cup of chocolate milk. Jeno pays him no mind.

“She’s a little menace to non-Jeno people.” Jaemin continues, and you blink at them impassively.

“I’m sweet to Chaewon, Mark, and Renjun.” You point out. “It’s just you two.”

“Well, aren’t we special.” Jaemin drawls sarcastically, and you fake a sweet smile.

“Sure are. Now don’t break anything; I’m gonna take a shower.” You warn them, and Haechan raises an eyebrow at you, a secretive smile on his face out of sight of both Jeno and Jaemin.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” He asks, staring you down, and you can’t help but squirm on the spot, his intense gaze reminding you of when he had his hands all over you just minutes before Jeno and Jaemin arrived.

“I feel like showering,” You say, guarded as you meet his gaze levelly.

“But why—”

“I can’t hear you! Gonna go shower!” You call out over your shoulder as you make your way to your room. Shutting the door behind you, you let out a loud breath of relief.

If Haechan insists on being difficult the whole weekend, you’re really going to have your work cut out for you.

“Jeno, you’re so clumsy,” You chuckle fondly, turning the male so his back’s against the sink counter and he’s facing you. You reach around him to wet the rag in your hand, moving to blot his shirt free of the stain. Somehow in his excited chocolate milk consumption, Jeno managed to spill a good portion of it onto his shirt, so you led him to your bathroom to help him get the stain out.

“Good thing I have you to help me,” He replies sweetly, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at you only to wince at the feeling of the cold, wet rag against his skin.

“Sorry!” You apologize, and he shakes his head with a smile before gently moving your hands away from him. “What are you d–oh,” You ask, trailing off when Jeno reaches behind him, grasps the back of his shirt at the base of his neck, and pulls it over his head, leaving you to gawk at his shirtless, very toned form.

“That way you can clean it without me squirming under the shirt,” He supplies helpfully, and you nod after a moment’s hesitation, hoping there’s no way for Jeno to detect just how dry your throat has become. You stare, frozen, at Jeno’s half-naked form before snapping out of it and quickly turning around to face the sink, blindly grabbing the shirt from his outstretched hand. You ignore the soft chuckle from Jeno with a furrow of your brows which only deepens when you see that Jeno’s watching your face intently in the mirror.

“Stop staring at me,” You mumble nervously, and Jeno cocks his head to the side in intrigue, studying your flustered expression.

“But I like watching you.” He answers simply, and you just about choke on air, a pathetic squeak of surprise forcing its way out of you. “Plus,” Jeno adds, stepping closer to you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, “I wanna learn how to clean that stain out.”

“Then watch my hands,” You mutter, nibbling your bottom lip anxiously as you attempt to focus on what you’re doing. Jeno snickers and moves closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the sink, and you stiffen, freezing in place.

“But your face is so pretty,” Jeno says, voice bordering dangerously on a purr, and you swallow thickly, a task proven difficult given the still dry state of your mouth.

“Wh—well, I—you just—” You stammer, barely regaining your composure in time to finish with, “I can’t focus like this, Jeno.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeno leans down, bringing his face level with yours in the mirror. “Why’s that?” His lips quirked into a smirk and a dangerous twinkle in his eyes, Jeno is the picture of temptation, not to mention the way his arms flex and tense as they rest on either side of you. It’s more than a little difficult to breathe at the moment, and you’re having a hard time attending to your task of washing out the stain on his shirt.

You clear your throat. “Jeno?”

“Hm?” That same almost-purring cadence to his voice, he quirks an eyebrow at you and it takes everything in you not to let your knees buckle.

“Pass me the detergent?” Your attempt to sound nonchalant falls flat when your voice cracks on the last word, a sound that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeno, who exhales loudly from his nose in amusement. You point at the cabinet overhead to the left of you both, and he watches your reflection for a moment before complying, reaching over and grabbing the detergent with ease and setting it beside you on the sink. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.” He hums.

“Do you want me to explain what to do?” You ask.

“Yeah, walk me through it.” Jeno requests, and you give him a small nod.

“So I’m soaking the stain in cold water,” You start, and Jeno hums in acknowledgement, lowering himself to your height again and watching you intently. His unwavering stare has you buzzing in anticipation for…what, exactly, you don’t know. “Then you put some detergent on it and gently rub out the stain.” You continue as you do just that, your voice trailing off when Jeno wraps his arms around your waist in a back hug that would normally be fine if, firstly, Jeno had a shirt on, and, secondly, you weren’t helplessly attracted to him.

“Thanks,” Jeno says warmly, and you smile, patting his clasped hands resting on your stomach. “You’re always so sweet to me,” He coos, and you chuckle.

“I’m not that sweet,” You reply, and he shakes his head, nosing past your hair until his nose is brushing your cheek, his warm breath fanning over your jaw.

“You are,” Jeno insists, nose grazing down your cheek and stopping when he presses his lips to your neck. “You’re so sweet,” He murmurs, lips pressed to your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath, your hands gripping the counter so hard your knuckles ache. “So…fucking…sweet.” He purrs, kissing your neck after every word, and your knees do buckle this time, Jeno’s grip tightening around you just in time to catch you as you all but go limp in his arms.

“Jeno—” You mumble, not trusting your voice enough to speak at a normal volume.

“You’re so tense,” Jeno muses with a smile against your skin before sucking at a spot at the base of your neck. “Want me to help you relax?”

“H-How?” You ask, and from the low growl that sounds from Jeno’s chest, you assume you’ve walked right into a situation you might not be prepared for. He slips a hand between your legs and busies himself with playing with your clit over the fabric of your underwear. Your plaintive whimpers don’t do much besides spur him on as he kisses your neck, dark eyes watching you in the reflection of the mirror. “Jeno,” You whine pointedly, and he chuckles, nipping at your earlobe roughly.

He turns you around, lifts you up with ease, and sets you on the sink counter, ignoring your gasp in favor of getting directly in your personal space and licking his lips, eying you with all the smug determination of a predator that’s captured its prey.

“I bet you can guess.” He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, just studies your features with increasing curiosity before he slips his hand up your shirt enough to hook his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. Your gasp of surprise is cut off by the alarmed yelp you let out when he yanks—hard—so you’re sent lurching forward against him.

Your core pressed directly against his bare, toned abdomen and your legs reflexively closed around him and pressed up against his sides, you stare up at Jeno wide-eyed and breathless, bottom lip trapped between your teeth and your chest pressing against his with every heaving breath.

“Jeno—” You mumble, and he shushes you softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

“Just relax.” He coaxes and you can’t help but think back to earlier when Haechan said the same thing to you and wonder to yourself how you got into this predicament. Jeno successfully pushes out any thoughts not centered around him when his free hand balls up the fabric at the small of your back and pulls you impossibly closer before capturing your lips in his with a growl.

“Je–”

“Shut up.” He mumbles against your mouth, and you can’t help but obey, immediately falling silent with a final whimper as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips, quickly becoming intimately familiar with the inside of your mouth. Where Haechan earlier was sensual, rhythmic movements and playful flicks of the tongue, Jeno is harsh, sucking, nipping and biting, such a contrast from the sweet, smiley male you’re used to—a bold version of Jeno who takes exactly what he wants stands before you, kissing you senseless and leaving you lightheaded.

Jeno takes your lips as if they were meant to be his all along and he’s sick of waiting, with groans and even growls as he detaches his lips from yours and starts traveling down your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin as his hands wander, one slipping up your shirt to grope freely at your breasts while the other massages your core with heavy-handed rubbing that has you clutching his firm, toned arm for something to ground yourself.

“God, fuck–” You pant, pushing feebly at his…everything because it’s all just a bit too overwhelming— “Jeno, wait a second–” You gasp out in ecstasy when he shoves your shirt up past your breasts, yanks your bra cup down and latches onto your nipple, sucking roughly. A ghost of the Jeno you know blinks up at you with a question in his eyes, still swirling his tongue around your stiffened bud in his mouth as he waits for you to speak. “Are you sure we should be doing this? Now? Here?”

With a wet pop, Jeno pulls off of your breast and stands back up so your faces are level. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I mean…yeah, but–”

“Then be good,” He brushes his lips against yours as his hand snakes into your underwear, “because I want a taste.” Your eyes widen as he drops to his knees and attaches his lips to your inner thigh, dark eyes staring up at you as he sucks and nips at the tender flesh.

“Not too low,” You exhale shakily, and he blinks up at you impassively before pushing your shorts up so they’re bunched around the flesh of your thighs and he proceeds to mouth at the unblemished skin of your inner thighs, gradually working his way towards where they meet as heat flares up throughout your body. His hands keep your legs spread with large palms pressing on your inner thighs as he brazenly rubs his face over your clothed core, eliciting a scandalized gasp from you.

“God, everything about you is so sweet.” He mumbles in a daze, hands dragging up your legs to grab your ass and force his face against your covered core even harder. Even through two layers of fabric, his nose presses against your clit enough to have you trying not to rock your hips against his face for more relief. Jeno notices quickly, his amused exhale warming the seat of your underwear even more, and flicks his gaze up to you as he hooks his fingers into the seat of your underwear and shorts and pulls both items aside, revealing your glistening wet core. The resounding silence has waves of nervous heat flooding through you and you look down only to see that Jeno’s staring at your pussy with unadulterated desire, eyes dark with lust as his thumbs gingerly part your folds, a sharp hiss escaping him when your entrance clenches in response.

“Jeno?” You hate how meek you sound but you feel so small under his scrutiny, the male before you inspecting the most intimate part of your body with a hunger you’ve never seen in anyone’s eyes before. He can barely tear his eyes away from your wetness before looking up at you, an eyebrow quirked expectantly.

“You have such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He rasps in awe, and heat washes over you like a tidal wave, your body blazing with embarrassment and the excitement from his praise. “God, it’s so pretty. Dripping, too; you want this that badly?” His eyes glinting with glee, his tone lilts teasingly as he addresses you.

“Please?” You whisper, and he stills in momentary surprise, looking back down between your spread legs with a poorly concealed hunger before groaning in frustration and leaning in to attach his mouth to your core. “Fuck—” You can’t help but gasp because when Jeno starts, he doesn’t hold back at all, devouring your pussy, lapping up every wave of arousal that gushes forth from your entrance with an eagerness you’ve never quite seen before.

Just like earlier, it’s overwhelming, the amount of everything you’re feeling, and your legs reflexively start to close around his head as he ravishes your most sensitive areas with rough sucking and licking, the whole ordeal complete with lewd moans from the male whose mouth seems permanently affixed to your core. Your legs barely apply pressure to his head before he’s shoving your legs back apart with a warning nip to your thigh and moving back in to resume his ministrations. The fabric of your underwear has slipped back over your core in the absence of his touch and Jeno huffs when he realizes the same thing, immediately yanking your shorts and underwear down your legs and letting the clothing drop to the floor carelessly.

He resumes his relentless tongue lashes against your sensitive bud, only stopping to dip lower and suck your folds into his mouth and run his tongue over them repeatedly. Your fingers are practically knotted in his hair, alternating between pulling him closer to you and trying to push him away when he’s just a bit too desiring of your core, and Jeno seems to love every bit of your reactions, responding to your every whimper and gasp with a moan of his own as he sucks and licks at your poor throbbing clit.

The whimpers and sobs you keep letting out only spur Jeno on further, the male going so far as to drape your legs over his shoulders and move in closer, his tongue teasing at your entrance before pushing into you, his hand flying up to cover your mouth and muffle the loud gasp that rings throughout the room. You can’t help but rock your hips against his face, your head tipping back to rest against the mirror in ecstasy. His nose rubs up against your clit with every inward push of his tongue and your quiet cries of pleasure are thankfully still silenced by Jeno’s large hand over your mouth as he fucks you with his tongue.

You jolt in alarm when you hear footsteps approaching the bathroom and flinch violently when a knock sounds out against the door.

“You guys okay in there?” Jaemin asks curiously, and you don’t even manage to come up with a coherent response; it’s Jeno who has the audacity to reply with his face still buried between your legs.

“Almost done!” He calls back, voice garbled because, well, it’s fairly hard to speak clearly with a mouth full of pussy.

There’s a moment of silence on the other side of the door, then your name is called.

“You good?” Jaemin sounds suspicious now, albeit a bit concerned, and you blanch, looking down at Jeno as your peak rapidly approaches.

“I–uh–I’m coming!” You yell back, trying to keep the whine out of your voice as your climax hits and sends you reeling, fingers tightening around Jeno’s hair and your entrance clenching around his tongue while your body trembles under his touch.

“…Okay…” Jaemin answers, sounding even more suspicious than before, and your face burns with embarrassment as Jeno hums contently against you and starts languidly lapping up as much of your arousal as he can. “Well, can you guys hurry? We wanna start the movie.”

“Sure!” You call back, a bit too eagerly and far too breathily, and wait until you hear Jaemin’s footsteps receding to relax, your body going slack with relief as you weakly push at Jeno’s head. He’s reluctant to pull away, his fingers digging into your thighs possessively, but when your pushing gets more insistent and your low whines pick up in urgency, he finally lets up, pulling back and sitting on his heels as he stares at your core, unbridled lust in his eyes.

“Good?” He asks, and you nod in a daze.

“Excellent,” You reply, and he grins, rocks off his heels and stands back up, helping you off the counter and passing your shorts and underwear to you. You make the mistake of looking down and are confronted with his jaw-droppingly large erection pressing against his shorts, your eyes widening in shock.

“I take it you like what you see,” Jeno chuckles and you blink several times to clear your mind before you meet his gaze with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” You mumble, and he gives your arm a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“You’re good. Hurry back down there so they don’t get any more suspicious.” He suggests, a smile so sweet on his face that you almost forget why his mouth is glistening.

“What are you gonna do about your shirt?” You mutter, reaching out to poke his bare stomach, and he catches your hand with a playful gaze, his eyes narrowed.

“I brought others, obviously. I’ll just grab one and change.”

“Cool, I’ll, uh, finish treating this one later.” You nod shyly and turn to leave but Jeno grips your hand tighter and whirls you back around into a deep, passionate, breath-stealing kiss, the taste of your arousal in your mouth as he swirls his tongue around with yours. When he releases you from his embrace, you gasp for air, fingers releasing his forearm quickly. “By the way,” Jeno hums, grinning, “…best pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

You let out a surprised sort of yelp, your face on fire as you nod quickly and try with all your might not to burst into nervous giggles. When you get back to the living room, Haechan and Jaemin stare at you suspiciously, no doubt confused by your slightly jittery state.

“You good?” Jaemin asks again, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly, and his brow arches skeptically. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” You insist, rolling your eyes and heading to the fridge to grab a can of Sprite. “I am.” You assure them, and Jaemin puts his hands up in a sort of surrendering gesture before jerking his chin towards the television.

“We’re still watching X-Men, right?” He looks at you and over your shoulder, prompting you to turn around and see Jeno coming up behind you with a new shirt on and an innocent smile that turns slightly more mischievous when Haechan and Jaemin look away from him. Your eyes widening, you turn back around to face your friends, putting on a casual appearance.

“Sounds good to me! Chaewon’s gonna be pissed we started without them.” You remind them, and Haechan shrugs.

“We can all pretend we didn’t watch it.” He suggests with a (very attractive) devilish grin before blatantly eying you up and down. His gaze, you note with a panicked jolt, lingers around your thighs before sliding back up to meet your eyes. “We can keep a little secret, right?”

You can’t help but feel like there’s more to the question he’s asked.

Pushing past the inkling, you narrow your eyes at Haechan and turn to Jaemin.

“I won’t tell if you guys won’t.” You say, and Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at you flirtatiously.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He collapses back onto his chosen armchair and gets curled up as you and Jeno move to find your spaces.

“Come sit next to me,” Haechan calls to you from the couch, his eyes fixed on you intently. When you pause, just staring at him, he raises his eyebrows suggestively and pats the spot next to him invitingly.

After another moment of hesitation, you roll your eyes slightly and make your way towards Haechan, who grins widely. “Stop manspreading and maybe there’d be room for me to sit,” You point out with a huff, and he raises an eyebrow and shifts forward, leaning back more and becoming an extremely tempting seat option himself.

“Sit right here,” He offers in a low murmur, patting his thigh and looking at you suggestively.

“No.” You say simply, plopping down halfway on his leg and mostly on the couch beside him. When he lets out a sharp yelp of pain, you smile, satisfied, and move your leg off of him, forcing his legs closed by pushing him with the side of your leg. Already having gotten over it, Haechan drapes his arm behind you on the couch cushion, his arm hovering just above your shoulders. You shoot him a side-eyed glance, and Haechan wiggles his brows with a grin before dropping his arm down and pulling you into his side.

“You know I like to cuddle,” He murmurs in your ear, and you blink dazedly, humming weakly in acknowledgment. He’s warm and comfortable and smells amazing, and you can already feel your head clouding with desire.

“Are you two almost done?” Jaemin’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind and you meet his gaze to see that he’s more amused than annoyed, an expectant brow raised.

“Almost,” Haechan answers, and you look at him, confused, but he ignores you in favor of leaning forward (forcing you forward with a jolt, since he refuses to let go of your shoulder) and grabbing the folded blanket on your coffee table, unfolding it with one arm and clumsily situating it over your and his lap. “Now we’re done.”

Jaemin stares at Haechan with an unreadable expression for so long that it makes you uncomfortable before he turns back to the television and hits the play button. Jeno flicks the lights off, leaving you four in mostly darkness, and the opening credits of X-Men start to roll.

Less than thirty minutes into the movie, Haechan has moved his arm from around your shoulders and is letting his knuckles graze along the hem of your shorts, his eyes fixed on you.

“Pay attention,” You murmur as quietly as possible.

His gaze not wavering from the side of your face, he chuckles softly, slipping his fingers under your shorts and tracing along your thigh. “Oh, I am.”

“To the movie,” You hiss under your breath, and he leans in closer, his lips pressing to the spot just behind your ear.

“You’re more fun to watch.” He coos, and you roll your eyes and scoff in an attempt to conceal the nervous laugh you let out when his fingers sneak up higher. “Plus, you know you like it.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and he pinches the flesh of your inner thigh, making you jolt in your spot and just barely conceal a yelp of pain and surprise.

“Told you to watch that mouth of yours earlier, didn’t I?” He warns you as you glare at him, affronted.

“You didn’t have to pinch me,” You hiss, and he chuckles, fingers continuing their journey up your leg to brush his fingertips against the heated, damp seat of your underwear. You suck in a quiet breath that, unfortunately, does not slip past Haechan, and he grins, eyes still trained on your face. “Stop staring at me,” You whine.

“Why? Does it make you nervous when I stare?” He asks with a smug little grin, and you frown, staring ahead at the screen pointedly. “Pay attention,” He urges, leaning closer to you to take your earlobe between his teeth. He tugs at the flesh gently, eliciting a small gasp from you, as two of his fingers find your clit and pinch it through the fabric. You squirm in your seat, fighting back a whimper, and he chuckles, tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. “Stop fighting it.” He murmurs when he’s done, and you swallow thickly, staring at the screen with glazed over eyes. Wolverine’s blurry form grunts and roars as he engages in a fight scene, the details on the screen going virtually unnoticed as Haechan’s lips latch onto your neck, kissing and sucking.

“Fuck,” You suck in a sharp breath and he flicks at your neck with his tongue as if to say, “I heard that.”

Pushing your underwear aside, Haechan’s fingers spread you open and circle around your entrance, digits collecting arousal with every go-around. When you groan quietly and buck your hips against his hand, he pulls back, much to your dismay.

“I want to hear you say you want it.” He breathes against your cheek, and you whimper in protest, nibbling at your bottom lip as you think. Do you throw away your pride in favor of getting the release you want? Knowing Haechan, he might cave anyway simply from sheer desire— “We don’t have all day.” His voice is low and stern and he lightly nudges at your ear with the tip of his nose to help bring you out of your reverie.

“Haechan–” You whisper desperately, and he chuckles, pressing his fingers into you shallowly and pumping them excruciatingly slowly. “God, I can’t stand you.”

“Then sit,” He murmurs. “Preferably on my lap.”

“Do you always have to have a comeback?”

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” He answers smugly. You suck your teeth and pinch his thigh in retaliation. He inhales sharply and hums appreciatively as you do, and you release him with a startled sound, looking over at him in surprise.

“Pain slut.”

“That’s me, baby.” With another gratuitous nip at your skin, he suddenly pulls back from you, fingers pushing into you finally to provoke a choked gasp from you. Before you can ask what happened, Jeno’s whispering both of your names from his space in the living room, and you look to see him facing both of you.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom!” Jeno announces in a low hush, and you nod, reaching for the remote.

“Want me to pause it?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Nah, I’ll be right back.” He assures you. “Maybe turn it down though, because Jaemin fell asleep.” He jerks his chin towards the chair Jaemin is sitting in, the male’s head tucked to his shoulder with his eyes closed. You coo affectionately at your sleeping friend’s figure and nod at Jeno, turning the volume on the movie down as Jeno gets up, stretches, and heads to your bathroom.

The second you hear the bathroom door close, Haechan pulls you onto his lap with a groan, guiding you into straddling his lap facing him.

“Haechan!” You whisper frantically, and he hums in acknowledgement as his fingers push back into you painfully slowly. “Jeno could come back!”

“Then hurry up.” He chuckles.

“Jaemin could hear–”

“Then shut up.” He claps his hand over your mouth and you whine against his palm, half disappointed he didn’t just put his fingers into your mouth. “Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you.” His tone is teasing as he curls his fingers inside of you and you let out a low moan, your head tipping forward onto Haechan’s shoulder.

Your attempt to speak is muffled into his hand and he chuckles, his hand leaving your mouth to grope your chest, squeezing your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric.

“What was that?” He asks, turning his face into your neck and kissing along the skin.

“Please stop teasing,” You plead, and he makes a thoughtful sound before pulling out of you almost to his fingertips, flattening his palm against your core and grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. “Please?” You choke out, and he thrusts his fingers back into you quickly, finger fucking you thoroughly as you melt against him.

“Like that?” He grunts, and you nod vigorously, clutching his arm.

“Yeah, like that,” You moan, and he tsks disapprovingly.

“Better shut up before I stuff my fingers in your mouth.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask, and Haechan lets out a surprised laugh, hand leaving your breast and tapping two fingers against your bottom lip. You readily take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and sucking, and he groans, teeth nipping at your neck appreciatively.

“Good girl,” He remarks, surprised, and you try to hide how you preen from his praise.

“Feels so good,” You whimper around his fingers, and he coos at you patronizingly, pressing his palm against your clit harder and relishing the way you grind against his hand.

“You’re so desperate,” Haechan snickers, and you whine, heat rushing to your cheeks as saliva drips down from around his fingers in your mouth. “Look at you—you’re drooling around my fingers, fucking my hand…all in front of Jaemin.”

“He’s sleeping!” You mumble defensively, and Haechan laughs mockingly.

“He could wake up,” He points out. “Or Jeno could come back. But you don’t care about that—”

“I do!”

“You just wanna cum all over my fingers like a needy little slut,” Haechan sneers, and you cry out weakly, a fresh string of drool dripping down your chin, some getting on his fingers. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” You whimper, rocking back and forth against his hand desperately. Haechan studies the glistening saliva on your chin and his fingers with a wild fascination in his eyes before he pulls his fingers from your mouth, much to your dismay. Before you can protest, he swipes his tongue up from your chin, collecting the drool, to your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it and catching your lips in a proper kiss. “So close,” You gasp against his lips, and he nods almost in a daze as he keeps fingering you, brows slowly furrowing from his determination to pleasure you.

It only takes a moment more of his fingers driving in and out of you to send you spiraling into a powerful climax, your body trembling under his ministrations as you choke out gasps and whimpers into his shoulder. Only when he’s sure you’ve ridden out your high to the very end does Haechan remove his fingers, raising an eyebrow in a sort of cruel fascination when your hips involuntarily chase after his hand.

“Still needy, yeah?” He exhales in amusement, and you can only frown at him, bottom lip bordering dangerously on a pout. As if to answer his question, you rock against his hips, breath catching in your throat when you feel his concealed length pressing against you. “Oh, can you feel that?” He asks almost lazily, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you move on top of him. When you nod, he grins, leaning forward with a challenge glinting in his eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Unfortunately for both of you, the sound of movement from behind you has you springing off his lap and resituating yourself beside Haechan just in time for Jaemin to rouse from his sleep, blinking sleepily.

“What’d I miss?” He yawns, and you laugh, thankful the darkness of the room shrouds your flustered expression.

“Not much,” You lie. “We can rewind it if you want.” When he nods, you pick up the remote and hit the rewind button, leaning over to Haechan when Jaemin’s gaze is once again focused on the screen. “I’m going to the bathroom. Meet me there a little bit after Jeno comes back.”

He grins at you, shooting you a wink as confirmation, and you stand up, trying to conceal the slight wobble in your stance and thankfully succeeding before heading to the bathroom.

On your way there, you run directly into Jeno who’s on his way back and you start apologizing before realizing that he doesn’t seem all that sorry. Before you can even wonder why, his hands are on your hips and he presses you up against the nearest wall, staring down at you with eyes alight with mischief.

“Hi, pretty.” He chuckles.

“Hi, Jeno,” You coo, smiling up at him invitingly.

You may have initially been on your way to meet Haechan, but something about the look in Jeno’s eyes has your stomach fluttering with excitement, and you practically launch yourself at Jeno when he leans in, the male letting out a surprised but pleased grunt as he presses up against you.

You and Jeno kiss heatedly, your hands eagerly grabbing and pulling at Jeno’s clothes to get him closer to you as the latter wastes no time slipping his hand into your shorts where he’s confronted with the arousal from your last climax with Haechan.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” He groans, and you whine into his mouth when his fingers toy with your clit, your free hand running through his hair and tugging messily to draw out a pleased grunt from the male in front of you. You clumsily push your hand into his sweats and gasp when you feel the sheer size of his length sitting hot and heavy in your hand, and Jeno chuckles. “Yeah, you like that?”

You can’t even bring yourself to respond fully as you only pant, “Yeah,” your mind still coasting off of the lust Haechan stirred up while you were supposed to be watching the movie. You rock your hips against his hand as he pushes two fingers into you and cry out weakly when his lips latch onto your neck, sucking, kissing, and biting. In your almost drunken haze, you notice that his mark is suspiciously near the one Haechan left you earlier, your eyes fluttering shut when his fingers curl and remind you of where your mind is supposed to be.

You wrap your fingers around his girth properly and start to stroke, pulling off and away from him to spit into your hand for lubrication and returning to him.

“That was so hot,” Jeno groans, an appreciative growl rumbling in his chest as he fucks into your hand. “Your hand feels much better than mine, pretty.”

“Feels so good, Jeno,” You whimper, and he nips at your neck a bit rougher than you anticipated, drawing a sharp whine from you that he muffles with his lips, capturing yours in a sudden, passionate kiss.

“Careful,” He teases, “Haechan and Jaemin are in the next room.” You cry out weakly at the reminder that you’re not alone, the sudden realization that Jeno is all over you and has two fingers inside of you less than twenty feet away from your other friends sends another wave of arousal through you and your jaw goes slack as his fingers curl inside of you. His long, slender digits fuck you diligently, leaving you gasping for relief and clenching desperately around his fingers.

“Jeno,” You mumble, still pumping his length quickly, and he groans against your skin, the sound raw and almost tortured, even. “I wanna come–” Your words are cut off by the sound of Jaemin laughing from the living room, making you flinch in surprise and, apparently, almost climax on the spot, your knees buckling as Jeno uses his free hand to nudge your shorts down to your knees, the clothing dropping to the floor and pooling around your ankles. “Fuck, right there, please, please, please—”

“Right here?” Jeno taunts, sending his fingers thrusting into your sweet spot before sucking in a ragged breath through gritted teeth. “Pretty girl, I’m close.”

“Me too,” You whimper, powering through the ache in your wrist as you squeeze Jeno’s length with every upward tug, relishing the groans he muffles into your shoulder.

“Let me finish inside of you,” He pants, and you falter in your movements, shooting him a bewildered glance. “There’s—fuck—so much I wanna do to you,” He grunts, “but first I gotta cum somewhere.”

You realize he has a point; he can’t just finish into your hand and leave you with a messy cleanup, and you’re not fully in the mood to get on your knees and swallow it, so you might as well just let him—

“Baby,” He groans urgently, and you snap out of your thinking spiral to focus your hazy mind on his words. “Come on; just the tip, pretty? No more than that.” He promises, and you nibble your bottom lip thoughtfully before nodding and spreading your legs a bit wider. He sighs in relief and hikes one of your legs up so your knee is level with his hip and you guide him between your legs, the feeling of the blunt head of his length filling you with excitement as it presses against your entrance. He removes his fingers from inside of you, bringing them to your clit to rub quick, determined circles, and pushes into you slowly with a careful rock of his hips, keeping his promise of no further than the tip as he nestles it between your folds and hisses in ecstasy when your walls flex around him. “So good for me, baby. So, so good, feels so tight, fuck—” Jeno’s practically babbling at this point, losing himself in the feeling of your hand stroking him as his tip is buried inside of your slick walls, and his head falls forward to rest against the wall beside you, the male emitting a low groan before mumbling, “I can’t—‘m sorry, I can’t—”

“Jeno?” You gasp in a panic as you feel him pushing into you further. “Fuck, Jeno—”

“Just a little bit more,” He rasps, and you cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, whines of alarm increasing as your walls clench around him tightly and he pushes in more.

“Jeno, you’re too big,” You panic, pushing at his abdomen to halt his movements, but you both know that he’s stronger than you and you’re ultimately just resting your hand on his stomach in defeat before your nails dig into his skin as he pushes in even more, the overwhelmingly full sensation making you feel dizzy.

“You can take it, right, baby?” He grunts, and your breath comes in short little bursts as he bottoms out in you entirely, your head spinning as you lean back to rest against the wall. “That’s my good girl,” He purrs, his length twitching as he rocks his hips against yours in slight movements.

“Jeno—” You moan urgently, and he groans under his breath as his movements stutter and he releases inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut as he shoots his cum deep inside of you even as you’re still adjusting to his size.

“You did so good,” He praises, cupping your cheek and kissing you. “So fucking good.”

“You said just the tip,” You huff, and he hums sympathetically, kissing you a couple more times.

“I know, but you felt so good,” He admits. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Okay, my turn,” You plead impatiently. “You owe me after that.”

Jeno grins and nods in acknowledgement, carefully pulling out of you and, to your surprise, pushing his fingers back into you. Ignoring your gasp, Jeno diligently finger-fucks his cum back into you, the pads of his fingers finding your sweet spot again with ease as he bites down on your neck and sucks hard. “Oh, my God–Jeno, I’m–” You stammer, and he shushes you sweetly, lapping his tongue over the bite mark left where your shoulder and neck meet.

“I know, pretty,” He assures you. “Come for me, it’s okay.” With that, you fall apart, a desperate cry of relief just barely making it past your lips as your climax hits you, shudders coursing through your body as you curl in on yourself, Jeno wincing as your hand tightens around his arm almost painfully.

“Sorry,” You whisper, loosening your grip on his bicep, and he shushes you again, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth in a sweet almost-kiss.

“It’s okay,” He assures you, gingerly pulling his fingers out of you, and you release him fully with another murmured apology. “Good?”

“Wonderful,” You reply in a daze, blinking up at him slowly. “How about you?”

“Perfect,” He answers, eyes crinkling as he smiles down at you.

“You, uh, go ahead and watch the movie; I’m gonna take care of…” You mumble, gesturing between your legs. As if on cue, a small gush of your mixed releases drips down your leg and you cringe at the sensation, only catching Jeno’s wild-eyed expression at the last minute as he watches it descend down your thigh. “Jeno?”

“I’m gonna go before I decide to fuck you right up against this wall.” He says, eyes still trained on your bare legs and the space between them. You let out a small yelp of surprise and his gaze darkens, his tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip.

“Jeno?” You call tentatively, and he blinks once, twice, and a third time before looking up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Movie.”

“Right…right.” He mutters, tearing his gaze away from your bare core and turning on his heel to head back into the living room. You pull up your shorts and underwear most of the way, not wanting to come into contact with the now cold seat of your underwear, and wait until Jeno rounds the corner and is out of eyesight to make your way to the bathroom.

After tidying yourself up, you decide to forego the underwear, not wanting to wear cold, slick clothing for the rest of the night. Balling them up in your fist, you head out of the bathroom and towards your room to change into a new pair, barely stifling your shriek of alarm when you bump directly into Jaemin’s chest.

“Sorry, Jaem,” You laugh breathlessly, looking up at the male, and your mouth dries. Jaemin, to put it bluntly, looks like he’s onto you. His brows are raised and his face is the epitome of if you tossed skepticism, amusement, and being entirely unimpressed into a blender and pressed the start button.

“Wh…what’s that look for?” You ask nervously, and Jaemin’s lip quirks up into a smug smile, a devilish little grin that silently sings, “I know something you don’t know.”

“Don’t act innocent when we both know what you were doing less than ten minutes ago.” He scolds you in that patronizing tone that’s so uniquely Jaemin, and you blanch, your fist tightening around your soiled undergarment.

“What do you mean?” The words don’t even sound right coming out of your mouth, and you wonder if you look as guilty as you feel.

His lips stretch into a Cheshire cat-like grin as he leans in, closing the gap between your faces as he studies you with an unnerving steadiness.

“‘Just the tip, pretty,’” He mocks Jeno’s voice, and if there was any hope of you making it out of this encounter unscathed, you just kissed it goodbye.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” You mumble, your face feeling simultaneously drained of all color and blazing with heat.

“But I did.” Jaemin lilts, reaching up to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger. Normally, the gesture would feel fond, affectionate even, but the look in Jaemin’s eyes has you feeling more like a mouse being batted around by a cat before it goes in for the kill. He tugs unexpectedly on your hair and your hand flies up to stop him a moment too soon, your eyes widening when Jaemin’s other hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, holding your balled up fist (and underwear) up in plain sight. “What do we have here?” He murmurs curiously, eyes alight with a cruel, mocking glee.

“Jaemin, please let it go—”

“No underwear?” Jaemin lets out a fake scandalized gasp, the picture of horror before he’s tugging your wrist, bringing you lurching forward and crashing, yet again, into his firm chest. “Oh, you’re such a tease.”

“Jaemin, I’m not—” You whine, but you can’t even deny that Jaemin’s undivided attention on you like this has heat flooding between your legs and you suddenly wish you’d worn the underwear as an extra layer of defense against the arousal you know is about to start leaking out of you.

“First, you snuck off to play with Haechan before we got here—as if no one would notice,” Jaemin looks up thoughtfully, holding up his free hand to count on his fingers. “Then you and Jeno snuck off and hooked up in the bathroom. Then you fooled around with Haechan again—yeah, I wasn’t asleep on the couch,” Jaemin reveals when you splutter in surprise. “Then you went off with Jeno another time, and now you’re standing in front of me, all pretty and nervous and tempting with no fucking underwear on…and nothing for Nana? Hm?”

When you don’t answer, simply at a loss for words, Jaemin sucks his teeth in disapproval and tugs you after him to lead you to your room next door, shutting the door behind you both and pushing you up against it, ignoring your gasp when your back hits the wall.

“Jaemin, I’m sorry,” You try to say, but Jaemin silences you with a stern look, leaving you feeling small under his gaze. After a moment of tense silence, he sighs loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Stop looking at me all wide-eyed and helpless like that,” He huffs, watching you with dark eyes. “It’s making me hard.” His words go straight to your head, making you blink up at him in shock, and he rolls his eyes, moving closer to you, and pushes his leg between yours, brows shooting up in intrigue when a pathetic little moan escapes you. “What a pretty little sound,” Jaemin muses, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “I think I’ll do that again.”

“Jaemin–” You try to reason with him again, but he shushes you, shifting his attention back to his fingers wrapped around your wrist, your underwear still balled up in your fist. He looks down at you with a sadistically intrigued expression and reaches to pull the fabric from your fist, raising an eyebrow when you yelp and clutch it tighter.

“Open your hand.” He says slowly, and you shake your head vehemently. “Fine.” He smiles sweetly down at you before pressing his thigh against your clothed core, smirking when you visibly struggle not to grind down on it. “Why are you fighting it, hm?” He murmurs curiously, cocking his head to the side. “Just give in,” Jaemin purrs, tensing his leg under you, and you mewl weakly as you roll your hips against his thigh, body slackening in relief.

“No!” You cry out when Jaemin takes advantage of your relaxed grip and pulls the underwear from your hand, immediately averting your eyes in shame. As if to rub in his victory more, he moves his leg between your thighs so you’re rocking back and forth against him, a wide smug grin overtaking his lips.

“I never imagined you were this sensitive, but I love it.” He murmurs, stopping his movements and studying your underwear, turning the garment this way and that. “God, these are soaked; you’re just a little mess, aren’t you?”

“Jaemin, please–” You mumble, and he blinks down at you impassively.

“Pretty girl, you don’t like this?” He taunts in a sickeningly sweet voice, and you whine, shaking your head insistently, your cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he continues, “If you don’t like my teasing…then why are you making all those cute little noises?” You, true to his word, cry out weakly and rock your hips against him desperately. “Mm, that’s what I thought.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s bringing your underwear to his face, clutching the fabric to his nose and breathing in deeply, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Completely caught off-guard, you gasp, and his low groan evokes an overwhelmed whimper from you.

“…Jaemin?” You try again, your voice small and needy, and he slowly opens his eyes again, his gaze now considerably darker and more intense than it was moments ago.

“Your eyes are already telling me yes,” He muses, tilting your head up by your chin and staring you down. “I can see your body agrees,” Jaemin continues, trailing his hand down your front and tweaking your hardened nipple gently, grinning when you squeal and push your chest further into his hand. “Now I just want to hear that pretty mouth tell me how much you want it.”

“Want it so bad, Jaemin,” You say immediately, stumbling slightly over your words as you look up at him hopefully. “Please do something—more—anything.”

“Aw, you sound so sweet when you beg.” He coos, tugging at your other nipple playfully before pinching it, the sensation a bit too overwhelming and drawing forth a sharp hiss from your lips. “Did you suck either of them off?” Jaemin asks, and you shake your head, your mouth already starting to water at the prospect of his length in your mouth. “On your knees.” He pushes down on your shoulder gently, and you oblige, sinking to your knees readily and blinking up at him expectantly, awaiting further instructions. “God, I knew you could be good for me,” He praises you, and you smile, flattered. He wastes no time tugging his sweats down to reveal his length, your eyes widening slightly as you take the sight of him in. A quick glance up at Jaemin grants you the sight of his crooked grin as he studies you while you study him, and you look back down to his length, swallowing thickly as you watch his fist pump himself up and down, lazily tugging at his length. “This what you want?” He asks, and you nod. “Words.”

“Yes,” You answer in a hushed murmur.

“Mm, yeah? Want Nana’s cock in that pretty little mouth?” He’s most certainly teasing you, but you don’t even have it in you to be ashamed or indignant, your only thoughts centering around his length and the way precum seeps from his slit as he strokes himself.

“Yes, please,” You reply, squeezing your thighs together for some friction, and he hums in an impressed surprise.

“Please? How could I say no when you use your manners like that?” He murmurs fondly, stroking your hair as he guides himself to your lips. “Open,” He says softly, and you oblige. “Tongue out.” He orders, and you let your tongue loll out of your mouth, blinking up at him with wide eyes. “Such a pretty fucking sight,” Jaemin groans, tapping the head of his cock against your tongue; his cock is hot and heavy and you can taste the stray drops of precum sliding down the underside of his length. “Go ahead, pretty.” He urges, and you don’t need to be told twice; you sit forward eagerly and replace Jaemin’s hand around his length with yours, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

When Jaemin hisses and lets his head tip back, you swirl your tongue around his length, lapping at his slit and flicking your tongue against where the underside of his tip meets his shaft, practically purring with satisfaction when he strokes your hair fondly. You start to bob your head up and down, your tongue dragging along the underside of his cock with every movement, and you work your hand over whatever isn’t in your mouth, eyes on Jaemin to drink up his every reaction. You two are engrossed in the feeling of each other, so much so that when Haechan opens the bedroom door, you jolt so suddenly and violently that it’s a miracle you don’t bite down on Jaemin.

“Well, well, well,” Haechan drawls, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. You pull off of Jaemin, the action resulting in a loud, wet pop that has heat blazing in your cheeks, and Jaemin stares at Haechan, entirely unbothered. “What do we have here?”

“She was just making up for playing with both of you and not me,” Jaemin hums, still stroking your hair; something about the action is different now, though, more possessive than it was before, and you can’t say the shift in the gesture doesn’t thrill you a bit, your thighs squeezing together of their own accord.

“Not our fault you were too slow to do something about it.” Haechan counters, and Jaemin narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, well, now if you want her to suck you off, you’re either gonna have to wait until I’m done or come join me.”

“Damn, who died and made you the orgy boss?” Haechan grouches, striding closer to you two nonetheless and pushing his sweats down to free his length. You take a break from warming Jaemin’s cock in your mouth to lick up Haechan’s cock and suck on the tip, wiggling your tongue in the slit to elicit a loud swear from Haechan, whose hand flies to the back of your head. “God, what a good little mouth you have,” Haechan praises you, albeit a bit condescendingly, and you hum, content, before Jaemin guides you away from Haechan and back to him. You let your tongue loll out and Jaemin rubs the underside of his cock against it before pushing himself into your mouth with a groan. You wrap your hand around the base of Haechan’s cock and pump slowly to keep him occupied while your mouth is busy, and Haechan exhales loudly through his nose, swearing under his breath.

When you pull off Jaemin and kiss down to his balls, licking and sucking them, Haechan growls enviously and pulls at your hair to get you away from Jaemin and back to him. After a moment of mouthing at Jaemin’s balls and stroking him with your hand, you pull away and look up at Haechan with expectant eyes.

“Come get your pretty face fucked.” He urges, and you drop your jaw and let Haechan guide his length past your lips before he’s thrusting into your mouth with poorly concealed grunts and groans, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

All you can do as he fucks your mouth is whimper and stroke Jaemin’s length more urgently, your now free hand moving between your legs to rub at your clit desperately. Haechan pulls out and taps his cock lazily against both of your cheeks before murmuring, “I think you like getting your mouth fucked.” When you nod, he tsks in disapproval. “Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” You rasp, your voice hoarse.

“Mm, tell me you love it.” He taunts, and you clear your throat in an attempt to regain some of your voice back.

“I love it,” You echo obediently, your voice still raspy, and Jaemin and Haechan coo at you fondly.

“What a good girl,” Haechan praises.

“Love how she sounds after getting her throat fucked.” Jaemin admires, stroking your cheek, and you preen under the praise before switching over to Jaemin to let him fuck your throat next.

This time, when it’s Jeno who comes in, it comes as less of a shock to you, possibly due to how incredibly occupied your mouth is with two demanding cocks before you.

“Jeno, if you want a blowjob, you’re gonna have to wait,” Haechan grunts, and Jeno waves him off dismissively, moving to kneel behind you and pull your hips back so you’re bent at a bit of an angle, your head closer to Jaemin and Haechan and your ass closer to Jeno. Two large hands pull your shorts down, and Jeno hisses when he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.

“God, you’re so fucking tempting.” He mutters, and the rustling behind you sends a thrill of excitement down your spine which only doubles when Jeno presses himself against your entrance. He busies himself with coating his length in your arousal, ignoring your whines and the impatient pushing back of your hips into him.

It’s not until you pull off of Jaemin and turn your head back towards Jeno and hoarsely plead, “Jeno, please,” that he obliges, pushing himself into you slowly. He kneads your asscheeks with heavy hands as he slowly buries himself in you, and your head falls forward onto Haechan as you pant from the overwhelming sensation.

“Look at her,” Haechan coos, tilting your chin up to see you better and show you off to Jaemin. “So relieved to take cock that she’s drooling.”

“You’re making a mess.” Jaemin points out patronizingly, swiping at the saliva dripping down your chin and regarding it briefly before slowly smearing it over your lips, the subtle yet demeaning gesture sending a wave of arousal through you and making you clench around Jeno.

“Fuck, her pussy just got so tight,” Jeno grunts through gritted teeth, and you let out a weak sob, pressing your hips back onto Jeno while your mind attempts to steady itself once more.

“So big,” You cry out, and Jeno shushes you soothingly, caressing your sides as he starts to rock into you with slow, purposeful thrusts.

“I know, baby, I know,” He murmurs soothingly, “I know it’s a lot, but look how good you take it.” His praise shoots straight to your head and you find yourself clenching around him again, much to his delight. Bless his patience, because he keeps the same pace for an unbearingly long time to help you adjust to his size, but you desperately need him to go faster.

You’re about to beg for him to speed up, preparing to pull off of Haechan’s length, when Haechan pushes your head down so his cock is sheathed in your throat. Your only breaths come in the short inhales you can manage through your nose and your whining gets increasingly more desperate as Haechan holds you down until you’re clawing at his thighs, adorning the tan skin with angry red streaks and finally earning yourself release.

“Faster,” You gasp when you finally pull off of Haechan, pausing only to glare sharply at the male above you. “Jeno, go faster.”

“Thank fucking God,” He groans before pulling out of you almost to the tip and slamming his hips into you, quickly building up a pace that has involuntary breathless, whiny moans leaving you with every thrust.

“Hae—chan,” You manage to get out, and he looks down at you curiously. “Fuck—you,” You finish before taking Jaemin into your mouth after he taps on your cheek impatiently with the head of his cock.

“Sorry, pretty girl,” He says with a remorseless smile. “Your mouth is just too good.”

“I’m gonna cum,” Jaemin warns you through gritted teeth, and you nod as well as you can, your hands speeding up on both his and Haechan’s cocks, and Jaemin tips his head back with a groan as he releases into your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m next,” Haechan grunts, and you whimper before switching to take him into your mouth, Jaemin’s cum still on your tongue, and Haechan climaxes, his release mingling with Jaemin’s in your mouth.

“Swallow.” Jaemin urges. “All of it.” You readily oblige and he smiles proudly at you, stroking your chin with his thumb. “Open your mouth for me, baby.” He murmurs, and you do, sticking out your tongue as proof you’ve done as he asked.

“God, that’s so fucking hot.” Haechan groans, dropping to his knees in front of you and pulling you into a heated kiss as Jaemin catches his breath. With Jeno pounding away behind you, you’re more than a little distracted, and Haechan pulls away after sucking on your tongue to shake your head abruptly by the chin to get your attention. “Kiss me like you mean it.” You whine into his mouth when he recaptures your lips in his, now attempting to focus some of your attention on Haechan’s tongue exploring your mouth as he flicks and swirls, eagerly tasting himself and Jaemin on your tongue.

After a moment, Haechan has mercy on you, allowing you to go slack-jawed while he presses kisses to your lips as Jeno fucks you stupid from behind. The sounds of his grunts and your breathy moans fill the room, and Haechan chuckles.

“Jeno’s fucking you so good, isn’t he?” He murmurs sweetly, and you nod, your eyes stinging as tears threaten to spill forth.

“Uh-huh,” You moan, and Haechan coos fondly.

“You just love taking cock, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh–”

“Just our pretty little fucktoy, aren’t you?”

“Mm—uh-huh,” You cry, and Haechan snickers.

“Is that all you can say?”

“Uh-huh,” You gasp, and Haechan pouts at you mockingly.

“Our dumb little fucktoy doesn’t even know how to speak anymore,” He taunts, forcing you to make eye contact by pinching your chin and angling your face towards his. “Isn’t that right?”

“Uh—fuck—uh-huh,” You wail, and the tears finally do spill, streaming down your cheeks freely. Haechan kisses down the tear tracks before connecting your lips in another kiss, his lips wet and salty from the evidence of your crying.

“God, what is it about seeing tears stream down those pretty cheeks that makes me so hard?” He groans, his hand finding his cock and starting to tug at it slowly. You watch in a dazed sort of amazement as he strokes himself back into action before your eyes scrunch shut as your climax approaches.

“Jeno, please, I’m gonna–” You beg, and Jeno lets out a little grunt of “Yeah?” that has your mind swirling deliriously and you topple over the edge, your walls pulsating around his length as you whimper and sniffle Jeno’s name repeatedly. Jeno’s not far behind, soon slowing his thrusts down as he starts to release into you, only stopping and pulling out when you shudder and swipe behind you weakly. His cum’s just barely started dripping out of you when Haechan kisses your cheek to get your attention.

When your dazed, glassy eyes manage to focus on his face, Haechan smiles warmly. “On the bed.” He urges you. “I want you to ride me.”

Your muscles all but give out at the notion, but you push through it, clambering gracelessly onto your bed and into Haechan’s waiting lap. Haechan carefully moves all the hair away from your face and cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss as he licks at your bottom lip.

“So pretty,” Haechan purrs against your mouth, and you whimper as he lifts your hips and guides his cock to your entrance, both of you holding your breath as he pushes the thick head of his cock into you. “God, still so fucking tight.” He groans, slowly guiding you down onto his length until he’s bottomed out in you.

“Haechan,” You plead, and he just chuckles, smacking your ass playfully and leaning back against your headboard as he raises his brows expectantly. You lift yourself up slowly before starting to bounce on his cock, involuntary shudders escaping you at the sensation of his length filling you at a new angle.

“Yeah, that’s it,” He grunts, lifting your shirt and kissing down to your chest. He reaches up and presses between your shoulder blades to push your breasts in his face, and he promptly buries his face in your cleavage with a groan, kissing, sucking, and licking. His ministrations on your chest and the feeling of his length moving inside of you overwhelm your senses so much that you don’t notice Haechan sneakily moving your bra out of the way until his lips are wrapped around your nipple, and a sudden moan escapes you at the added sensation.

Despite the burning ache building in your thighs, you rock down on him with every downward motion, grinding on him as you ride him, and his eyes roll back into his head before he refocuses his gaze on you with heavy-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with lust and desire.

“Could watch you ride me all day.” Haechan coos from around your nipple before moving to suck at the other one, tugging on the now neglected bud while his tongue swirls around the nipple in his mouth, shifting his gaze up to yours as he flicks your nipple with his tongue in up-and-down movements that have your jaw slackening, desire consuming you as you watch him.

“Does it feel good, pretty girl?” Jaemin asks from beside Haechan, and you blink twice in surprise as your gaze shifts to him, having momentarily forgotten where he went.

“Mhm,” You whine pathetically, and he grins, slowly pumping his cock with his fist.

“Haechan, hurry up, I want her next.” Jaemin hisses through clenched teeth, and you blanch, realizing that you’re far from done.

“Tongue out,” Haechan urges you, snapping you out of your daze, and you oblige, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, and Haechan moves his hand to play with your clit, grinning mischievously when you attempt to move away from his touch. “Take it.” He grunts, thumb following your every movement and massaging your clit relentlessly even as you whine and sniffle. “Oh, baby,” Haechan coos sympathetically, gaining your attention again. “You’re drooling everywhere.”

When you move to wipe it, Haechan catches your wrist and brings it back to your joined laps, instead leaning forward and lapping up the saliva that’s dripping down your chin and neck. As he nears your lips, you bring your tongue back into your mouth, jolting when Haechan swats at your ass warningly.

“Keep that tongue out.” He murmurs, and you stick it out again, an open-mouthed whimper escaping you when Haechan flicks at your tongue with his before sucking on it.

“Haechan, I’m close,” You warn him in a shaky voice, and he nods, moving his hips under you to meet your movements.

“Me too, pretty girl.” He assures you, and your head drops forward to rest on his shoulder as your climax hits and a series of whiny, breathy moans spill from you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” He moans, his head falling back onto your headboard as he releases inside of you. “What a mess,” Haechan chuckles, and at first you think he’s talking about you, but when his hand slips between your legs to pull out and feel your almost impossibly slick folds, he groans and pulls his now glistening fingers back, regarding them curiously.

“Haechan?” You mumble, confused, and he flicks his gaze up to your face before he smiles devilishly and shuffles down the bed so he can lie down on his back.

“Come on,” Jaemin groans, his head thumping back onto the pillow, and Haechan just shoots him an unbothered look.

“Come here,” Haechan grunts, pulling your hips towards his face, and you shuffle up as slowly as possible, trying to buy yourself time to recover from your climax. Haechan, however, is having none of it, and shuffles down even more to meet you where you’re at, thumbs eagerly spreading your folds apart and inspecting your core as heat blazes in your cheeks.

“God, what a pretty little pussy you have.” Haechan admires you loudly.

“Tastes good, too.” Jeno adds on, shooting you a wink, and Haechan chuckles.

“Oh, yeah? Guess I get to see for myself.” He mutters under his breath before removing his thumbs from your core and leaning up to press a kiss to your pussy lips, groaning and repeating the action again and again for a longer time each kiss before his tongue parts your lips and swipes up your pussy from your entrance to the underside of your clit. An abrupt whine escapes you and your thighs give out slightly, dropping you further down onto his mouth. His hands reach up to grab your thighs, urging you all the way down on his face, while he laps at your overly sensitive clit with no regard for how sensitive you are, only chuckling when you can only choke out moans with teary eyes.

Alternating between sucking and lapping at your clit and folds, Haechan groans in ecstasy as he pulls you down harder onto his face, guiding your hips to rock back and forth on his tongue. “Fuck, Jeno, you weren’t kidding,” Haechan pants when he takes a moment to breathe before returning to his task. “Tastes so fuckin’ good,” He mumbles, eyes wild in their hungry gaze up at you, and his mouth seals around your clit without any further words. You rock your hips against his tongue as quickly as you can, your hips bucking as it’s all somehow too much and yet not enough. The salvation you were looking for comes when Haechan stiffens his tongue to a point and breaches your entrance, flicking inside of you.

“Oh, my God,” You cry, your body moving of its own accord as you start to bounce up and down slightly, helping Haechan tongue-fuck you. “Oh, fuck, Haechan—just like that—”

He pulls his tongue out for a moment, a disappointed whimper slipping from your lips, before urging you, “Beg for it.” He stares up at you with intense eyes alight with challenge, and you can practically feel the fight leaving your body.

“Please!” You give in immediately, and Haechan’s brows fly up, almost disappearing into his hairline, as you continue to beg. “Haechan, please make me cum, please, please, please–”

“Fuck, baby,” He groans, his arms tightening around your thighs almost painfully as he holds you to his mouth, mumbling in an almost delirious state, “Anything you want, fuck, I’ll give you everything.” His tongue slips into you again and his nose rubs against your clit, making tears of relief streak down your face as the pleasure consumes you and your climax gets deliciously close.

“Don’t stop–” You pant, your last word cutting off as you hit your peak and your eyes force themselves shut, bliss overtaking your body in warm waves while your abdomen tenses and you curl in on yourself.

When you reopen your eyes, Jeno’s situated himself beside Haechan, watching you intently as he strokes himself slowly, and you lean forward to take Jeno’s length into your mouth, the taste of yourself still faintly on him as you bob your head up and down his length at a pace slightly faster than the leisurely pace he’d set for himself just a moment ago.

As you lean forward, you lift your hips off of Haechan, only to be yanked back down by the male beneath you, who says, “Get back down here; I’m not done with you yet,” before he promptly buries his face in your core once more.

Pushing two fingers into you, Haechan hooks his fingers into your g-spot and starts to finger-fuck you diligently, his tongue rolling over and lapping at your clit even as you whine around Jeno’s length and attempt to squirm away.

When your eyes squeeze shut, tears forcing their way through the minuscule space, Jeno cups your cheek, making you open your eyes to look at him.

“Keep your eyes open, baby; look at me.” Jeno urges gently, smiling when you oblige and resume bobbing your head up and down his length. When you push through the discomfort and the ache in your jaw to take his length all the way in your mouth and swallow around his cock, Jeno hisses appreciatively, stroking your hair. “That’s good, baby, that’s so good; keep on doing that.” You hum happily, dizzy with all the praise and pleasure, and Jeno’s hips buck upwards into your mouth, making you choke briefly around him, and that’s all it takes for Jeno to lose it, the male shuddering as he releases down your throat. You swallow without dwelling on the taste and look up at Jeno who looks like he would have hearts in his eyes if you were all in a cartoon.

Haechan, not one to be ignored, presses the pad of his thumb into your clit roughly to regain your attention and you let out a sudden cry, returning your attention to him.

“Haechan, that’s sensitive!”

“Mm, too bad.” He mumbles, losing himself in the taste of you once more. “You said ‘Don’t stop,’ so I’m just giving you what you asked for.”

“That’s not what I meant—oh, shit, I’m gonna–” You gasp, and he sucks and licks determinedly at your clit, lapping his wide, thick tongue over the sensitive fleshy button over and over until you’re climaxing with a loud cry of Haechan’s name, your body trembling as you attempt to keep holding yourself up.

“That’s it,” Haechan mumbles, lost in his desires. When you attempt for a second time to get up, he practically snatches you down, nuzzling his nose between your folds to bump against your clit and make you jolt. “I could do this for hours.”

“Please don’t,” You beg, and Jaemin gestures for you to come to him where he lies beside Haechan, his cock hard against his stomach. You blanch at the realization that they expect you to come again, but there’s no time for dwelling on that, as Jaemin takes your hand and pulls you away from Haechan.

“Stop hogging her; you had your turn!” Jaemin grouches, gingerly lying you down on the bed and hovering on top of you. He kisses you slowly, gently nudging your legs apart to lie between them. He smiles against your lips when you moan softly, arching your back and pushing your chest into his. “Yeah? Is that where you want me?” He teases lightly, trailing wet kisses down your neck to your chest, pushing your shirt up over your chest again and leaning in so he can latch his lips onto your nipple, sucking and licking the bud as your eyelids flutter. “Mm, you’re so cute,” He mumbles fondly around your breast, sponging wet kisses from your left breast to your right, where he repeats his ministrations. In a daze from the sudden gentle treatment, you only manage to whimper quietly when he nudges your legs further apart.

“You’re being so nice to me,” You say tiredly through a smile, and Jaemin looks up at you with an amused grin from where he’s watching the head of his cock move along your folds, the tip glistening with a mix of your arousal, Haechan’s saliva, and Jeno’s and Haechan’s cum.

“Of course I am,” He replies simply, leaning up to press a quick kiss to your lips before you feel his cock pushing past your entrance. “Gotta treat the pretty girl like a princess before I fuck her like a doll, right?”

“Oh, shit,” You mutter, and he chuckles darkly before pushing himself all the way inside of you, groaning at the sensation of your walls wrapped tight around him.

“So fucking wet, fuck—I could slip right out,” He taunts, and all you can do is sniffle as he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours. You ignore the screaming ache of your muscles as you wrap your legs around him, and he snickers derisively, looking down at you. “You don’t want that, do you, pretty baby?”

“No—” You start, but Jaemin covers your mouth with his hand, your lips pressed to his palm as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“No, you don’t,” Jaemin coos. “You want me nice and deep in this pretty pussy, huh?” When you let out a muffled cry and nod, he kisses your cheek sweetly as he drives his hips into you. “You really do have such a pretty pussy, baby; can’t believe you let those two dolts play with it before me.” You turn to look at the other two males, but Jaemin stops you by clamping his hand down harder on your mouth and using his grip to keep your head in place. “Ah, ah, ah—focus on me. They’re not here right now. It’s just you and me right now, and I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

“Jaemin–” You keen into his hand, canting your hips upwards to meet his thrusts, and he coos patronizingly at you, moving his hand away from your mouth and returning his attention to thrusting inside of you.

“Gonna fuck this greedy pussy so full of cum,” He groans, gripping your hips with an almost bruising tightness, and you stutter out a gasp, making Jaemin look down at you with a grin. “That’s what you are, right? Greedy?”

“Y-Yes,” You pant, and he smirks.

“Say it.”

“I’m greedy,” You all but wail as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

“That’s right, pretty girl. You’re greedy, and this greedy little pussy just loves being full of cock, doesn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, it does!” You reply in a desperate attempt to make him have mercy on you. “Jaemin, I think I’m close–”

“Oh, yeah? What should you say when I let you cum?” He presses, and you sob, your bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you try to wrack your empty brain for the answer.

“Th-Thank you?” You try, and could just faint with relief when he shoots you a pleased grin.

“That’s it, baby,” Jaemin confirms proudly, and, as if rewarding you, reaches between you two to massage tight circles into your clit. “You gonna cream my cock? Two guys weren’t enough? You just needed three loads crammed in this tight fucking pussy, huh? It’s okay, princess; Nana’s got a nice, big load for you.” Jaemin grunts, his words punctuated with his thrusts, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, your cries of pleasure only getting louder and more desperate as your climax approaches.

“Fill me, Jaemin,” You beg breathlessly, nails clawing at his back as your peak hits and your eyes slide shut in ecstasy, practically sobbing, “Thank you,” as your vision gets spotty. He hisses in a mix of pain and pleasure and speeds up to an almost brutal pace before letting out a loud moan and burying himself in you entirely, pumping his release into you. He stays inside of you for a couple moments longer, his length twitching as your walls clench and flex around him, before slowly pulling out of you and sitting back to watch as his cum slowly drips from your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” He pants, and you can’t even bring yourself to respond yet, your chest still heaving from your own climax. He collapses on top of you unceremoniously, sending an “Oof!” whooshing out of your lungs before chuckling out an apology and wiggling himself between you and Haechan, much to the latter’s dismay.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” You say with a surprised laugh, and Haechan stops glaring at Jaemin to shrug, sporting a mischievous little grin.

“I figure it was just a matter of time.” He muses, and Jeno mutters something that sounds like an agreement, shuffling closer to you and pressing his face between your neck and shoulder. Jaemin mirrors Jeno’s actions on your other side, slinging his arm over you and pulling you closer to him. When Haechan starts to protest, Jaemin shushes him abruptly.

“You got to hook up with her three times; you can handle not lying next to her.”

“But-”

“You can cuddle Jeno.” Jaemin finishes, and, on cue, Jeno lifts his arm up to accept Haechan’s attempt to hold him. Haechan huffs and puffs and moans and groans but ultimately climbs over you, Jaemin, and Jeno (ignoring everyone’s protests) and settles in beside Jeno, snuggling up to the larger male with a small sigh.

“Not like I wanted to cuddle her or anything,” Haechan mutters bitterly from beside Jeno, and you tut sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Haechan,” You say sincerely, reaching over Jaemin somewhat awkwardly and finding Haechan’s hand to squeeze it gently. He squeezes back and laces his fingers with yours, giving you the impression that he’s not letting go anytime soon. “You guys do know we have to be dressed and not-suspicious by tomorrow morning, right? Mark and Chaewon are gonna be riding in probably by the afternoon, and they don’t need to know what happened here.” You sit up slightly to inform them, but Haechan groans in protest and pulls you back down, pressing his lips to your hand to dot lazy kisses along the skin.

“We know, just—let us relax for a bit?” Jeno muffles his response against your collarbone, his fingers tentatively lacing through the fingers on your free hand.

“Okay…” You mumble skeptically.

“Don’t worry, pretty,” Jaemin pipes up, accompanying his words with a reassuring squeeze of your hip. “What happened here will be our little secret.”

“Thanks,” You exhale in relief, and they all mumble variations of “you’re welcome” before your eyelids start to droop and you settle into your spot to drift off to sleep.

༄ i hope you enjoyed!! please leave feedback if you did!!

tips are appreciated!! VENMO | CASHAPP | KO-FI | WISHLIST

#haechan smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #lee haechan smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut

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waytooinvested · 2 months

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Fic: Small Problem...

A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19

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

There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.

She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.

As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.

Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.

Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.

J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.

And Kara was-

Not there.

Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.

‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.

‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’

Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.

‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’

Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.

‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.

Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.

‘Oh, that can’t be good…’

Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.

‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

Lena froze.

The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.

‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’

‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’

‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’

They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.

‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.

The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.

It couldn’t be… could it?

She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.

Nothing.

Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.

‘Woah! The room’s moving!’

Ah hah.

Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.

‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’

‘Yes! How did you know that?’

‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’

They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.

Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.

‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.

And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.

‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.

She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.

‘I… shrank?’

‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.

Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.

‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.

In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.

Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.

‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’

Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.

‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.

She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.

‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.

Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.

Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.

As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.

It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.

#supercorp #kara danvers #supergirl #lena luthor #my fic #supergirl fanfiction #crack fic #light hearted silliness #inspired by fanart #please go and check out the artist's awesome work if you haven't aready

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seeingivy · 2 months

Text

better than revenge

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

previous part linked here

an: this is 11k and tweets on tweets. buckle in. if you find the typo in the tweets shut up

songs mentioned: see you again by tyler the creator ft. kali uchis, end game by taylor swift, and vampire by olivia rodrigo

The following morning, the buzzing energy in the townhouse is almost palpable. Not only because you’ve finally completed the set and the last four people have arrived – Erwin, Bertholdt, Ymir, and Historia – but it seems that your intense energy from the night prior seemed to have transferred over to everyone else.

You’re almost too embarrassed to walk downstairs to the frantic chatter – that coupled with the fact that you’ve heard Connie name drop you almost four times – and it seems that Eren seems to be feeling the same when you walk out into the hallway to find him awkwardly lingering by his door.

“Hey.”

Eren looks up, thrown out of his spiral of thoughts, as he gives you a smile and then looks down at your lip. It’s a little sore, the tiniest bit swollen from the tattoos that you got yesterday, and you can see that his is the same.

“Hi princess. How’s your lip?” Eren asks.

“Good. I guess I should be thankful that your name is only four letters and not nine letters like Bertholdt or something.”

Eren smiles.

“Let’s see it then.” Eren responds.

You oblige his request, pulling down to show him the inner of your lip and watch as he smiles at the little ink. He follows suit after, making a rather dramatic display of crouching down to your height before pulling his own lip and showing you his.

“You know, life really does imitate art. Because now, my name really will be forever on your lips.” you respond.

“I sure hope not. You’d be slashing my head off sometime in the near future if that were true.”

You smile.

“You know, that doesn’t sound that bad to me.”

“But you have to kiss me after. You know, if it were up to me, I think life should imitate art. Like at least ten times, for scientific purposes.” Eren responds, shrugging as he gestures for you to follow him.

You shake your head, inexplicably unable to respond to the harmless flirting this time around, as you gesture for him to join you downstairs. The two of you walk in tandem down the steps, sparing each other one last smile, before you get hounded by the likes of Connie and Jean.

And surely enough, the second you make it down to the kitchen and the dining table at the side, you’re met with the sight of Connie air-playing fan edits on the TV screen for everyone to watch.

You and Eren take the spot behind Connie on the couch, and Eren smacks him on the backside of his head, before you two watch the edit. It’s of Eren singing Glimpse of Us in the background, except the video’s edited to be showing videos of him and Hyla, before juxtaposing them with videos of him and you.

“Speak of the fucking devils. Don’t tell me you actually got matching lip tattoos? I’m half convinced you assholes are just lying to piss me off at this point.” Connie asks.

The two of you look over and grin at each other.

“Why are you watching fancams of us on the TV?” you ask.

“Edit accounts are a form of art. Look at this one.” Connie responds, sliding to the next video on his phone.

This one is in a similar vein, videos of you and Eren from the red carpet to the backdrop of you singing Style. You’re not sure what it is, but the video fills you with an insurmountable amount of joy, especially when Connie scrolls up the comments – most of them being about how people can’t stand how Eren seems to look at you.

“Connie. Why have you watched this entire YouTube video?” Eren asks, pointing to the little thumbnail at the side.

You follow the line of vision to where he’s pointing to an hour long video, entitled “eren and y/n creating love for an hour straight.”

“There’s no way you watched that entire thing.” you respond.

“Watched it? Bitch, I recorded half of those videos for Y/N-Jaegers back in the day. Please put some respect on my name.” Connie sneers, as he leans forward to put the video on.

You turn to Eren, as the gears start turning in your head. You can tell that he’s following your lead – in fact, thinking the same exact thing as you – as you discuss it over.

“I mean, kind of makes sense. S’how we did it the first time.” Eren responds.

“I’d argue that it’s almost poetic to do it the same way. Plus, the resurgence of Y/N-Jaegers would be crazy, just for PR sake.”

“I agree.”

Eren reaches forward, yanking on Connie’s ear to catch his attention. He leans back, before swatting Eren off, and standing to face the two of you.

“Do you have your phone, Connie?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.” Connie responds.

“Then, use it.” Eren responds.

You give him a grin, waiting for Connie – who albeit, in his confusion lifts his phone – before you both pull down your lips and show off your new tattoos. You watch as Connie’s eyes nearly boggle out of head as he moves closer to the two of you, his excited voice filling the entire room as the group of them all start huddling around you.

Mai and Mikasa look positively appalled, quietly whispering about how painful that must have been, while Reiner and Sasha break out into their own side tangent about how oppressive lip tattoos must be since they limit your food options so greatly.

You and Eren laugh as you shuffle back into the kitchen, leaving the group of them to their devices as Connie uploads the video, and the two of you reach for the yogurt in the fridge. The piping hot, spicy ramen seemed like it was just going to burn your entire lip off, so you decided against that for today.

You lean forward to read the little schedule on the fridge, though the filming is considerably light for the week. Considering the fact that almost everyone was here now, or arriving within the next hour, you were going into serious rehearsals for the ensemble showcase that you had planned. Though you were really only in it for one verse.

Wednesday, March 27th, 10:00

Eren and Y/N - REDACTED #1

You frown.

“What the hell is redacted number one?”

Eren spins to the side, crouching down so his chin is just hovering over your shoulder. And the fact that he lowers his voice, to the gravelly octave, makes the hair on your arms stand up on its ends.

“Levi not talk to you about this yet?”

“No. We’re too busy talking about award show stuff. You know how he loves to lecture.”

Eren looks over at you, his eyes borderline smoldering, as you can’t help but look away. It was getting harder and harder to look at Eren after your godforsaken realization last night.

“From what I hear, what they’re lecturing you about is actually very valid.” Eren responds.

You scoff.

“You know, they’re so annoying. I’d appreciate it if they kept my conversations with them as private as they keep their conversations with you.” you respond.

“Well, they were actually trying to get me to convince you to not use your triple threat performance on me. Not when you’re already performing twice that day, with me at the centerpoint.” Eren responds.

When you had first pitched your idea for the awards show to them – and humbly begged them to give their ensemble showcase moment up to include the Jujutsu Kaisen cast – you had let them know that your intentions were from the get go.

And when Eren had created the perfect segway for them with the song requests, Hange had slipped theirs in a week prior with maybe the most difficult request that you had been given yet.

write a song about danny and sareen

And even more than just writing it, Hange had made it very clear that they were expecting you to sing it at the award’s show at the end when you finally got to do your triple threat performance. That you couldn’t sing another song about Eren, when winning that award, was always going to be about them.

Hange’s more theatrical than Levi. Because Levi just gave you the cue card that they have read off of that night, that had your name on it. But Hange had gone the full ten miles and given you the little trophy that you never even got to hold, with the note that came attached from the Institute.

You can still see it now in the dull, gold looping.

Dear Y/N, Danny, and Sareen, Congratulations on your accomplishment! Included in the box is the trophy and a golden glass case to display it in. Please call the offices on Glass Avenue to discuss timings for interviews and your performance at one of our four award shows next year. Best, The Institute

And annoyingly enough – despite the fact that it was your name on the trophy, their names were inscribed on the box.

It was enough to irritate you into writing the song that Hange wanted you to sing. And at this point, you were itching to give them a run for their money too.

“They didn’t need you to convince me. I gave in eventually.” you respond.

Eren shrugs, before dipping his own spoon into your yogurt. Eren had instinctively given up the last strawberry one because it’s your favorite, but clearly, wasn’t very attached to his decision.

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to make it about Danny and Sareen in the first place.” Eren responds.

You shrug, leaning against the back of the fridge. The metal is cold on your back, as you let the freezing cold yogurt soothe the burning in your mouth.

“Well, I only came back here for Marco. Because he won’t ever get to act again. Then when I started to do this, I was only doing it for you – because you did it for me first.” you respond.

“And now?”

“I thought back to what Historia had said to me, when she finally dragged me out of that house the first time. She had brought up Hange’s speech, the one way back when that made me even interested in acting in the first place. About showing the real you and all that.” you respond.

“And?” Eren asks.

“Well, Hange brought that up to me, when I originally said I wanted the third song to be about you. Not that you’re not important to me, but…being a triple threat was what I always wanted. And really at the core of it, I just wanted to be as unapologetic as Hange was. I guess when they put it that way, it was almost stupid not to make the song about them when they’re the one who got to take the sanctity of that award away from me.”

Eren smiles. And before he can respond, you’re tackled by two pairs of arms nearly strangling you around your neck, your line of vision telling you that Eren’s experiencing the same bombardment. Ymir and Bertholdt are shaking his entire frame and jumping at his side – and your ears don’t deceive you when you hear Historia and Erwin bellowing in your ear.

You pull back, wrapping your hands around Historia’s face.

“You crazy bitch. Don’t tell me you actually got a fucking tattoo again?” Historia asks.

You grin, pulling down your lip to show the group of them.

“Well, I’d be a fucking liar if I said that.” you respond.

Erwin, in his theatrics, places a hand over his chest and the other one on the top of your head.

“That’s my girl. Always had such a sound moral compass.” Erwin responds.

You can’t help but wrap your arms around him as Erwin lifts his hand and gestures for Eren to join him at the other side. He still smells the same – the lingering scent of Old Spice deodorant and a very husky perfume. And when he pulls back, you can’t help but feel your heart squelch when he puts a hand on both of your cheeks and beams down at you two.

“You’ve always been our little trail blazers, you two. I’m so proud of you two.”

You turn to Eren and smile, before looking back at Erwin.

“We’re proud of you too, Erwin!” Eren responds.

You turn your head to the side, giving Eren a confused look.

“Don’t flatter me, Eren. I’m not above crying in front of you children.” Erwin responds.

“I’m offended you would even think that, Erwin. Don’t you know who I am?” Eren responds.

You shake your head as you turn towards Ymir and Bertholdt at your side and leave Eren and Erwin to hype each other up for what was probably going to be the next thirty minutes at your side. You had already given up trying to understand Eren and Erwin’s relationship years prior.

“Hey, kid.” Ymir says.

“I’m older than you.” you respond.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I have someone I want you to meet.” Ymir responds.

You follow her line of vision to the opening of the kitchen, to find someone lingering against the frame of the door. There’s a girl standing there, with tan skin and a short pixie cut – nervously knitting her fingers together. She’s smiling at you, rather brightly, and you can't help but feel like you’ve met her before.

“Y/N. This is Sofia, my fiance. Sofia, this is Y/N.” Ymir states, gesturing for the two of you to shake hands.

You oblige, her hand warm and the shake firm, as you try to hide the shock in your face. With the rush of everything that was going on, the information that Mikasa had shared with you days prior had been floating around in the back of your mind but you were never able to ask Eren to put it to rest.

And now there was another lingering question mark hanging.

That Ymir had proposed to Historia, but that she said no. That she begged her and Historia couldn’t bring herself to do it. But even despite that, they were still sleeping on the same mattress when you came back for the first time, for Marco’s funeral.

And now she’s engaged to someone else.

“Hi Sofia. My name is Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Her eyes light up as she squeezes your hand, which you now realize is still locked in with hers, as you look back up at her and smile.

“It’s really nice to meet you too.” she responds.

“You know, you look really familiar, but I can’t exactly place why.” you murmur.

You look to your side to find Ymir grinning at Sofia, as Sofia can’t help but groan in response.

“I told you she would remember you.” Ymir states.

“That doesn’t count as remembering me! A lot of people can look familiar to people!” Sofia responds.

You smile, rubbing your palms together, as you look at the two of them. The thought of Historia a few feet away talking to Jean and Mikasa has you sweating, nervously passing your eyes over just to make sure that she wasn’t watching the entire interaction go down.

“Have I met you before?” you ask.

Sofia sighs, the slightest pink tint in the apples of her cheeks.

“This is so embarrassing. I met you and Eren a couple years back, at one of those conventions with the panels and stuff and –”

The recognition is instant.

“Oh my god! You were wearing a shirt with my face on it! With your sister, right?” you respond.

“I fucking told you she would remember! She has really good memory.” Ymir responds, this time goading her on.

You shake your head at Ymir, before placing your hands on both of her biceps and squeezing.

“Sofia, wait. I really remember that because it actually meant the world to me at the time. I’m sure you…know about Scott Clarkson and all that mess and –”

“I want that man dead and I’m so serious.” Sofia deadpans.

You laugh.

“You and me, both. But yeah, that day was actually the first time that Eren and I had ever met him in person. And the entire event in general was just so uncomfortable and left a weird taste in my mouth and you…you really made me feel like I was doing something important and I actually thought about it for a really long time.” you respond.

Sofia smiles, before she reaches forward and wraps her arms around you. The embrace is overwhelmingly warm, as you eye Ymir behind her back, who's just shaking her head at her demeanor, almost insinuating that this was what she did all the time.

“I’m really glad. I really meant what I said back then and I’ve always been a big supporter all this time. You’re really brave and courageous and –” Sofia stars.

“Okay, Sof. Enough. You’re going to make poor Y/N’s head bigger than it already is.” Ymir groans, as you turn back to your side.

“That’s really sweet of you. How is your sister?” you ask.

You’re not sure what it is, but it’s almost like you’ve thrown ice on the little warmth that was pooling in the conversation. Because her face slightly droops and Ymir’s quick to put a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

“Ah. She passed away a few years ago.” Sofia mumbles.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up and –”

She smiles, enough to give you the faintest glimpse of her dimples. They remind you of Eren.

“That’s okay. That’s actually where I met Ymir. At the grief group.” she responds.

“You went to a grief group?” you ask.

“Well, not originally. I was there with a friend, a while before Marco died. Met her there. We were already dating when Marco passed away, but…we just figured it wasn’t the best idea for Sofia to come to the funeral with…you know. Historia.” Ymir responds.

So why did she sleep with Historia on the mattress?

“I’m glad you’re here with us now. It’s really nice to meet you. And I love weddings, if Ymir can humble herself enough to invite me to hers.” you respond.

“Shut up, bitch. You’re so annoying.” Ymir responds.

That’s what she says. But it sounds more like are you crazy? Of course, you’re invited.

“Anyways, I hope you come to set later. Eren and I are going to be filming something if you want to watch.”

“For sure. I’d love to see it.” Sofia responds.

You look over your shoulder to find Levi, Hange, and Eren waiting near the edge of the kitchen island, gesturing for you to come over now that you’ve caught their attention. And as the four of you embark out towards the set, Levi explains what redacted scenes are to you.

You spare Historia one last glance as you walk off the set and can’t help but feel a bitter taste in your mouth at the longing look she’s giving Ymir.

“You know, this sounds an awful lot like method acting to me.” you murmur, spotting the sly grin on Levi’s face.

“Eren told me not to call it that. He said you might strangle me. Or him. Or both of us combined.”

“He would be right about that.” you respond.

He’s leaning against the edge of the vanity, as the makeup team tasks themself with drying and prepping your hair to perfection, while Levi coaches you through what you now understand are the two redacted scenes that Levi has asked you and Eren to film.

You just think it’s lazy script writing. Levi thinks you’re annoying for calling it that.

With your combined permission of course, Levi has decided to let you method act through the two scenes that he originally had planned out. While he was allegedly entirely faithful in your ability to deliver lines, he wanted to see if what the two of you could produce out of real shock, in the moment as your characters, was something better than what he could write.

Hence, the vague scene that you and Eren were going to be filming. To your understanding, the pair of them were each going to give you and Eren a set of prompts and you were just supposed to act your way through the scene based on what they told you to do.

“Can I know my prompt then?” you ask.

“You understand, right?” Levi clarifies.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just supposed to go based on what you tell me.”

Levi hops off of the counter, this time leaning closer so that you can actually make eye contact with him in your line of vision.

“But really. I don’t care how badly you want to say something else. You…you have to go based on the direction that I tell you.” Levi responds.

It’s almost annoying, the way he’s coddling you through the entire thing.

“Okay, I get it. This is my entire job, you know?” you respond.

Levi scoffs.

“Fine. Eren’s going to ask you something. I want you to shoot him down.” Levi states.

You lean your head to the side, much to the annoyance of the makeup artist, who moves your neck back into place. You shoot her an apologetic smile, before thinking back to Levi.

“You want me to shoot him down?” you ask.

“He’s going to ask you something. Or insinuate it – and no matter how badly you want to do whatever it is, you have to tell him no.”

Levi gives you a curt nod before he walks back out to the set to put things in place, as you put the outfit resting on the hangar on. You reach up to mess with the little fringe of your bangs, pulling down the undershirt and the jacket as you prepare yourself for the scene.

When you walk out on set, the group of them are all sitting on the sidelines, giving you excited smiles. You give Sofia a little wave at the front of the sidelines, returning the little finger hearts that Gabi and Falco point towards you as you reach for your cue.

And when Levi calls action, the lights on the entire set dimming and the chatter breaking down to silence, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you see Eren at the top of the little landing, his back facing towards you.

“Eren! Everyone has been looking everywhere for you!”

At the sound of your voice, Eren lifts his hand to his face and sniffles, almost like he’s wiping away tears, before you stand at his side. He refuses to meet your eyes and now that you’re standing at his side, you’re not sure how you missed this before.

They cut Eren’s hair.

A small part of it – because it’s out of the usual man bun that he’s been sporting since you came back to set and instead loosely frames the sides of his face.

It might be your favorite look yet. And all you can do is stare.

He still refuses to meet your eye, withholding it from you. You follow his gaze to the bottom of the landing, to see the kid that Levi had introduced you to a week prior, who was going to play Ramzi in the script. You had yet to film the scene – since you’re almost positive that Levi was going out of order at this point to save time and note it.

“The boy from the market? What happened?” you ask.

“Nothing yet.” Eren responds.

Eren’s voice has that same gravel, almost hollow, like he did the day that you filmed the table scene. It’s almost haunting when his voice sounds like that – so devoid of motion and strained that it makes your chest pang.

You wonder if that’s what he sounded like in the years that you didn’t talk.

“What do you mean? Wh-what is this place?” you ask.

“After the war left them with no home, they all gathered here to live. They’re just like us.”

Eren’s throat bobs at your side and you can feel his eyes clenching in your peripheral vision.

“One day, their regular lives ended and everything was taken away from them. They were deprived of all of their freedoms.” Eren states.

And almost in a split second, Eren finally averted his gaze from looking down and meets your eyes for the first time. You’re not sure what it is – surely something from the makeup team that’s making his eyes look fuller, rounder – but the eye contact is almost excruciating this time. Your first instinct is to turn away.

“Y/N. Why do you care so much about me?”

You can feel your cheeks burning. That was the last thing you were expecting him to say.

“Huh?” you repeat.

“Is it because I saved you when we were little? Or is it because I’m your family?”

You swallow hard, the block in your throat stifling. It’s almost like you can’t even push air out of it, like you’re opening your mouth to try and nothing can make it past – enough to fill you with a panic like you won’t ever speak again. Because you have the faintest inkling of what’s going to come next…why Levi was so adamant on asking if you would be able to follow his instructions.

“I-”

“What am I to you?” Eren asks.

Everything.

It’s the first word that comes to mind when he asks.

“Ev–”

You pause, as you feel the sweat accumulating on the edge of your hairline, fighting the urge to reach up to wipe it off. Levi’s voice is excruciating in your head.

He’s going to ask you something. Or insinuate it – and no matter how badly you want to do whatever it is, you have to tell him no.

It’s almost painful. Having to say it when it isn’t true. When in reality, you know that you’re acting and Eren knows that you’re acting too – that this is just part of your job. But to even strike him down in the fake way, after weeks of building it back together, seems cruel.

You sigh, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, before you look back up at his eyes. The deep green is enough to accumulate the thinnest film of tears in your eyes.

“You’re family, Eren.”

And after you mutter it, it’s visceral…an almost physical reaction from Eren. Because you can see the way his breath hitches, the way he hesitantly steps back – quite literally physically recoiling. And the regret sits heavy in your chest and you have to drop your eyes – because you can’t even bear to look at him.

“Cut!” Levi calls.

It’s enough to snap you out of the heaviness, as you shake your head at the resounding amount of chatter that follows. You can still feel your heart racing as the makeup team is quick to rush to your side – quickly powdering the sweat that had accumulated on your cheek as they do the same with Eren – and you can hear Connie and Reiner mumbling about how brutal that was to watch on the side.

You look back up at Eren, whose hollow look hasn’t left his eyes and you give him a halfhearted smile – which he doesn’t return. Instead, he turns back to Levi and Hange, who are murmuring over the shot in the viewfinder.

“Did we get it?” Eren nearly shouts.

“We got it. You killed it guys.” Levi responds, still fixated on the shot.

“Do you still need me or can I go?” Eren asks.

“Eren–”

“You’re good, Eren.” Hange responds.

Eren’s almost too quick with it, the way he yanks the little mic pack off the little sleeve in his jacket and hands it to the crew. And with his long bean stalk legs, he’s disappeared from your side before you can barely even process that he was standing there in the first place.

You can’t bring yourself to talk to Eren until two days later, on the eve of his birthday and two days before the award show. Not because you’re actively avoiding him, but it seems that he gets so wrapped up in quite literally everything else he has to attend to. Though really, it feels like that the slight air of comfort that you had was completely shattered by filming the scene together.

There’s a quiet knock on Eren’s door. He’s preemptively pissed off…and the quiet irritation that had been festering in his chest for the last few days was about to come to a head on Connie and Lana, who refused to take a hint.

He had made it infinitely clear that he wanted to spend the early hours of his birthday alone. That he would be fine and dandy to celebrate with everyone the day after, but he needed the time to process some things alone.

The tension diffuses when he realizes that it’s you at the door. There’s an almost timid look on your face, as you balance a little white box in your hands, and peek your head past the closet.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not. Come in.” Eren responds, patting flat on the comforter for you to join him at his side.

You give him a smile as you set the little box down, crossing your legs over each other to sit at his side. You lock your hands into the pits of your knees as you turn over towards him, taking a second chance to admire that his hair is the slightest bit shorter.

“I really love your hair, Eren.” you respond.

There’s an immediate flush in the apples of his cheeks. He reaches up to it, nervously pushing a hand through the strands before he drops it all together.

“Thank you. The length was starting to get really fucking annoying.” Eren responds.

“I liked the man-bun but I think this type of thing really suits you.” you respond.

Eren looks over at you and gives you a halfhearted smile. And that quiet ease returns, maybe faster than Eren would have liked. The quiet moment of hurt that he was holding on to was absolved the second you smiled at him.

Eren can hear Connie’s voice in his head – calling him down horrendous.

“What can I do you for?” Eren asks.

“It’s almost your birthday.” you state.

“Congratulations, Y/N. You know how to read a calendar!”

You scoff, before lightly shoving him in his side.

“Shut up. I wanted to do something for you.” you respond, before lightly pushing the box in front of him.

Eren gives you a weary look, before he opens up the little box. It’s a frosted green and white cake – with four candles in it. It’s a strange arrangement since they’re all numbered candles, making the number 2,345.

“I guess I stand corrected. You really don’t know how to read a calendar.” Eren responds.

Eren turns to the side, with the most annoying look on his face, as he turns to you and grins.

“Okay, Y/N. Repeat after me. The year is 2024.”

“Shut up, asshole. I was trying to be sweet.” you grumble, as you hike your knees to your chest.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“What’s so sweet about getting the age wrong on my cake?” Eren asks.

“It’s actually to make up for every birthday of yours that I missed, dumbass.” you respond.

Eren can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“What?” Eren asks.

You shrug, before reaching down to adjust the candles from pushing into each other.

“The last birthday I got to spend with you was your twenty-second birthday. I can imagine that the years’ that followed weren't exactly pleasant…that…that they might have been a reminder of what happened on the beach.” you start.

That was the understatement of the year.

“And it’s my fault that I missed your birthday. So, I thought that…we could make them up now. Hence the candles for three and four, for your twenty-third and twenty-fourth birthday. And today’s your twenty-fifth…it’s the least that I could do.” you respond.

Eren thinks it’s rather unfair that he always seems to be at a loss of words when he’s with you. Instead of being able to spill out what was really racketing through his brain – that it was getting infinitely harder to swallow down his feelings, that this was almost melting the resolve that he had made with himself to let you make the first move – he opens up his arms instead.

You oblige, leaning forward and resting your chin against his shoulder, as you feel Eren scoop his arms around your waist. It’s almost like he’s resting his entire body weight on you, because you can feel his face digging into the softness of your neck, as you absentmindedly reach up for his hair, feeling the edges that were just freshly cut. The faint scent of the hairdressing spray still lingers.

He’s quiet for sometime, but it’s only fitting that when he does break the silence, it’s with something annoying.

“A cake with no plates is crazy, Y/N.” Eren mumbles.

You laugh, as you reach inside the box for the two forks you tucked inside the box. You hand him one, as he tucks the ends of his hair behind his ears, and looks up at you.

“Game plan. You eat all the frosting and I’ll eat all the cake.” Eren states.

“Huh?”

“Okay, that’s a little selfish. But it’s my birthday. And I just really hate frosting.”

The thought that comes to your mind is enough to startle you, just in the slightest.

Eren really is your soulmate.

It’s stupid. A stupid comparison to make when the person that you’re comparing him to is Ricky James of all people. But you can’t help but think about that stupid memory, from before the Met Gala. Ricky had bought you that stupid cupcake – and very irritatingly swiped the frosting off of your finger.

And the two of you bickered because you both preferred the frosting as opposed to the actual cake. And naturally, Ricky was never going to be the type to give up his frosting for you.

It was sweet that way, with Eren. And you’re sure that the thought of invisible strings and single threads of gold tying you to Eren are really only on your mind because that’s what you sang to him the last time you got to spend his birthday with him, but it almost seems too perfect.

That Eren likes the cake, but you like the frosting. That you’d always finish the cake if you were eating it together.

Unbeknownst to you of course, Eren is fully aware of the fact that you are overly fond of the frosting on the cake. And that you have no idea that he really hates eating the spongy cake part and prefers the frosting too.

But he doesn’t like the frosting nearly enough to not even think twice before offering it to you.

You only grace the red carpet for five minutes. You and Eren are above that at this point. But from what you were able to discern from Twitter backstage, after practicing your first set with Eren, it was eventful enough without you there.

Sukuna splashed a glass of wine in Ricky’s already swollen eye from last week. Hyla tripped and fell when she got out of the limo. You and Eren spend a good amount of time reading through the stuff on your feed – and the perfectly timed blind items that you had submitted to every paparazzi company but the WBS were coming out just as you planned them.

And surely enough, every single one of them was getting caught off guard when they were asked on the carpet – and couldn’t scramble a perfect PR response out.

There were three blind items that were yours and the rest were strays. And you were fully intent on making sure that everyone, Danny and Sareen, knew that it was you who submitted them by the end of the night.

First, that Ricky James had thrown an insanely murderous bitch fit at the front of the Institute Offices in New York when he found out that he had been replaced as the opening act, by Eren of all people.

Which, according to your sources, was true.

Second, that the producer for the critically acclaimed Ribbons album, Sareen Clarkson, had been cheating on her husband with industry plant John Stasny, who is twenty years her junior and had previously been linked to several famous actresses, like Historia Reiss.

Which was also true. It had only been a few hours since it had been leaked, but the shit train that followed wasn't pretty.

If you were going to call her a fame fucker, you were going to make sure that everyone was going to understand the reference.

And the third was that stupid magazine cover that Scott had mailed you and Eren.

This was seemingly the last pillar that had to fall in taking down Scott Clarkson and his empire – or at least putting the tiniest bit of a dent in it.

The only reason that the WBS was successful in the first place was the same reason that his label and movie company thrived the way they did – they were big enough to eliminate all the competition.

But when it came to something like a tabloid, that centered around reporting on drama, it was almost natural to take them down in this way. If they were the only ones that lacked the information, then they’d be the only ones who would drop the ball on reporting it – and therefore, people would have to divert their attention away to someone else to get the information.

The foundation seemed a bit bare, but you were already too far in to oppose it at this point.

You feel a little tap on your shoulder and you turn around to find the two people who were going to be accompanying you for your first performance.

The dopplegangers of you and Eren – from the Girlfriend and Because I Liked a Boy Performance.

“Hi guys!”

You reach forward and wrap your arms around both of them as they return the gesture and warmly hug back. Thankfully, they were more than happy to oblige with your second request – third for Penelope if you counted Girlfriend – to pretend to be you and Eren.

You almost felt bad for marking this as their legacy so many times, but they were more than happy to oblige – citing the free food and the hefty paychecks as more than enough compensation.

“Right, well. Eren, this is Penelope.” you state.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ve met before. Hi.” Eren responds, the look on his face so painstakingly awkward that you almost feel bad for the prank that you’re about to play on him.

“And this is Scott.” you respond.

It’s insanely bad timing, since you accidentally mention it while Eren’s taking a swig of his water bottle. And due to the shock, he consequently spits the entire contents back into the bottle and gives the three of you wide eyes.

“Your name is fucking Scott?”

“No, it’s Jason. Y/N paid me three bucks to say that.” he states.

Eren looks at you, giving you a downright murderous glare, as he puts the water bottle down.

“You bitch.” Eren grumbles

“It’s funny!” you respond.

You shake him off as you turn back to Jason and Penelope and eye the little wardrobe rack on the side.

“Okay. Hair and makeup is ready for you two whenever you are. And just remember, that if anyone asks you about the outfits –”

“Mine is based on Selene, goddess of the moon.” Penelope states.

“And mine is Poseidon, god of the sea.” Jason adds.

You grin. The two of them give you a passing wave before they walk off to the other side of the stage and Eren makes a dramatic display of shuddering.

“What?”

“Don’t they like…freak you out?” Eren asks.

“Why would they freak me out?”

“They literally look like us! And they’re literally dating too which makes it even weirder!”

You give him a weird look.

“They aren’t dating.” you respond.

Eren wraps his arm around your shoulder, before twisting you to the side of where their dressing rooms are – where the two of them are standing, kissing.

“That looks really friendly to me.” Eren states, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What the hell?”

“It’s weird!” Eren whispers.

You shiver.

“Ew. I don’t like that.” you respond.

“Levi should hire them to do the kiss next week instead of us. Sure, they’ll enjoy it more than we will.”

You can feel your cheeks burning. You know that it’s not what he meant – surely, that it couldn’t have been what he meant in the slightest but the sting still hits all the same.

“Jesus. Didn’t realize you were so opposed to kissing me.” you mumble.

Eren’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not opposed to kissing you!”

“You just suggested that Levi and Hange should literally offer a salary to two people who kind of look like us just so you wouldn’t have to kiss me.” you deadpan.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Well…don’t be weird about it! You don’t have to…want to kiss me. I know we’re just working and that it’s all like method acting or whatever. I’m not going to get offended if you don’t want to it’s just–”

Eren looks agitated. If Sukuna was standing here, you know that he would have no self control and probably piss him off more by asking him if he needed to take a shit.

“Y/N, just listen. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable because I wrote a kiss into the script and told Levi and Hange that they can’t write it out this time.” Eren responds.

And just as fast as his eyes go wide, his cheeks are bright pink this time as he suddenly busies himself with worrying about his costume to change the subject.

It’s a hopeful thought and you’re clearly speaking faster than you’re thinking. Because it’s probably against your better judgment to assume that he wrote the kiss in just because he wanted to kiss you.

You say it anyway.

“You wrote the kiss into the script?” you ask, giving him a grin.

“My costume seems like it’s going to be tight, right? It looks a little short at the legs? We should see if we can get this fixed in the next twenty minutes before we go on, so I don’t look like an idiot, you know?”

You place a hand on his shoulder, to stop him from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and keep him standing on the ground.

“You can relax. I was just messing with you. And your outfit looks fine, I think we should change now so we can make sure I don’t go swinging into the audience with the equipment.”

Eren waits for you to finish changing before you walk over to the little makeshift hang-glider that you guys requested. He chooses to ignore commenting about how much he loves it when you wear red for the time being and focuses on making sure you don’t plummet to your imminent death from the moon you’re going to be hanging off of.

Eren watches as you shuffle on the little seat, before he reaches around you and secures the little belt around your waist. You watch as he tightens it not only twice, but three times, before he reaches for your hand and secures the microphone around it next.

“You know, I understand securing me to the moon but I think the microphone is a little much. I’m not going to go dropping it.”

“I’m sorry for being overcautious. I’m not a big fan of…stints that include hanging in the air for so long.” Eren responds, as tightens the strap around your hand again.

You pale. Of course he hates these type of things.

“No. No…I’m sorry. I totally forgot about that…I-I didn’t even realize that this might be really nerve wracking for you. We can take this part out if–”

“No, no. I like the set design. How about you just promise to come back to me in one piece?” Eren asks.

You sigh.

“Of course.”

And Eren gives you a gleaming, two dimpled smile in response, before he taps your side and walks over to his cue. As they send your little glider into the air, you can actually see the entire audience from the little break in the curtains at the top – and can spot a very annoyed Ricky James sitting front and center.

With pink wine stains on his shirt.

You look down at Eren, who looks up from his spot, and spares you one last thumbs up before the music stats.

You have to give your props to Eren’s team for working out the set exactly as he wanted it. With the ocean on the left, you in the moon on the right, and Jason and Penelope doing their little slow dance on the beach in the middle.

Eren: You live in my dream state Relocate my fantasy I stay in reality You live in my dream state Any time I count sheep That's the only time we make up, make up You exist behind my eyelids, my eyelids Now I don't wanna wake up

Eren: 20-20, 20-20 vision Cupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision I wonder if you look both ways When you cross my mind (Yeah), I said, I said I'm sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing You're the one that's always running through my daydream, I I can only see your face when I close my eyes

And surely enough, they lower you from your little vantage point behind the curtains to the bright flashing lights and the resounding cheers of the crowd – that are barely muffled out by your ear pieces – as you sing your part.

Y/N: Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I'm 'bout to go to war And I don't know if I'ma see you again

As Eren sings his second verse, they’re quick to lift the moon back up and off the stage in time for you to climb off – and for you and Eren to replace Jason and Penelope on the beach in the center.

You and Eren hadn’t really practiced this part, though in hindsight it was simple enough. You just had to keep leaning in until they dimmed the lights – to make it look like you and Eren were going to kiss each other.

Y/N: Can I get a kiss? (Can I get a kiss?) And can you make it last forever? (Oh, forever) I said I'm 'bout to go to war (Go to war) I don't know if I'ma see you again (See you again) Can I get a kiss? (Can I) And can you make it last forever? (Can you) I said I'm 'bout to go to war ('Bout to) And I don't know if I'ma see you again

It’s excruciating to do it. To pretend – and in that second, you decide you’re going to kiss him anyways. Because he wraps his hand too perfectly around your neck to pull you closer and instinctively closes his eyes.

And then it’s overwhelmingly embarrassing. Because the exact second you time moving forward is when Eren leans back, because they’ve pulled the curtains. And runs off to the side curtains, as you awkwardly stalk back.

You try to swallow down that pit of shame in your throat as he turns back towards you, handing you an ice cold water bottle.

“That was great! But was it really hot up there? Your face is all pink.” Eren asks.

“Uh, yeah. I kind of had a panic up there.”

Eren twists the cap off and instructs you to drink, biting cold enough to taper that burning heat in your cheeks, as he instinctively shakes his head.

“I said come back in one piece.”

“I am in one piece.” you grumble back, getting ready to go stalk off to your dressing room until you had to face him again four performances later.

Eren doesn’t follow when you make it all the way to the little room, as you lean back in the chair and resort to massaging your temples.

Too close. That was way too close.

“Hey?” Eren asks.

You can see Eren poking his head into your dressing room, bright green eyes curious as he looks down at you.

“What?” you ask.

“The answer is yes.” Eren responds.

You glare, in irritation.

“To what?”

Eren bends down, pressing a kiss right into the thrumming pulse of your temple.

“You asked me if you could get a kiss. Well really, you asked me seven times if you could get a kiss, but I’ll spare you the entire show.” Eren responds, tapping the frame of the door and giving you a bright smile before he steps back out.

You sigh. The quiet moment of hurt that you were holding on to was absolved the second he smiled at you. And multiplied into the biggest, searing feeling in your chest when he kissed you.

There’s seven people in your dressing room after the fact. And one of them is Satoru Gojo, who counted as an additional ten people, which is when you take the sign that it’s probably time to duck out of there.

You had three options – Connie and Eren who were having way too much fun with your special props, a group that had both Historia and Ymir in it, or Sukuna – who was standing by himself in the corner.

There was a very obvious choice.

He gives you a noncommittal nod as you walk up to his side and link your arm in with his. He’s nursing a tiny glass in his hand, which he offers to you. You know him well enough by now to know that it’s going to be some taste buds descreating drink, but decide to drink anyway.

And surely enough, it burns all the way down to your esophagus, making you physically recoil as you hand the glass back to him.

“Jesus. I feel bad for your liver.” you respond.

“I actually don’t drink that much anymore. My liver is just fine.” Sukuna responds.

“There’s no way. That just destroyed like…a quarter of your lobule.”

“What the fuck is a lobule?”

“The functional unit of the liver!” you respond.

If looks could kill, Sukuna would have murdered you then and there. It’s at that moment that Eren and Connie run up to you, Eren quickly placing his hands on your cheeks to angle your face up towards him and place the little crown on your head.

“Très magnifique!” Eren murmurs.

“Wow. Who taught you French, Ratatouille?”

“Does that count as a self-diss? You taught me French, ma lune.”

You lightly shove him in the side, as everyone reaches for their cues on the stage and you crawl to the revolving stage underneath with Eren and Sukuna. And surely enough, Levi and Gojo delivered well on their promise with their prop guy.

He perfectly replicated that god forsaken throne Scott was sitting on in that stupid magazine cover. You snag the little crown Eren placed on your head off to admire the work on it – the gold handiwork. You place your hands in the middle and test the fragileness, noting that it takes little to crack the pieces – before you place it back on your head.

“So, who was on the right? Eren or Lana?” you ask.

“I was on the right.” Eren responds.

The group of you flinch as the music starts blaring above and take it as a sign to stick your earpieces in. And right on timing with the chorus, you can hear the screaming get louder – which you’re positive is people just overreacting to the fact that Gojo’s the first person in the ensemble showcase when he shouldn’t even be in it in the first place – and tap your hands nervously on the handles.

I wanna be your endgame I wanna be your first string I wanna be your A-Team (whoa-whoa, whoa) I wanna be your endgame, endgame

“Sukuna. There’s pins right there, there’s no way she’s not going to jostle the crown off before she hands it to Lana.”

“Got it.” Sukuna responds, shuffling away as you look back up to Eren.

He looks down at you, tucking your hair behind your ear, which has your heart pounding in your throat.

“Pretty dress.” Eren whispers.

You give him a shrug, before laying down the fringe at your sides.

“Nice suit.” you respond.

“Eh. It’s kind of digging into my neck.” Eren responds.

You stand up, rocking back on your heels, as you turn to face him. You reach forward, reaching for the top buttons of his dress shirt and task yourself with unbuttoning them.

“You know, you could at least take me on a date first.” Eren grumbles.

You hum in response, giving him a smile, as you stop at the third button and reach forward to readjust the layers of his necklaces. His skin is soft and warm underneath your fingertips and it gives you an insanely inappropriate thought.

“What are you thinking?” Eren murmurs.

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking something naughty.”

“Ew. You have such a disgusting choice of words, Eren.” you whine.

“What was it?”

“Nothing, Eren. I was thinking about how pale you are.” you respond, letting go of the chains and reaching back to sit in your little chair.

Eren reaches forward, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you back. He’s quick with his other hand, securing it around your waist and holding you steady against him. His lips hover right by your ear, the gravel of his whispering makes you nearly squirm.

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

“Nothing, Eren. Really.”

“I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before…and I know what it means. What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

You groan, squirming out of his embrace.

Where the hell did Sukuna get lost?

“I just thought about something that people would notice, that's all. But we don’t–”

“What was it?”

You groan, before tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’m wearing red lipstick. And that’s a fairly…exposed patch of skin. People would notice if I–”

“If you kissed me. Alright, go ahead and do it then.” Eren responds, angling his neck closer to you.”

“Eren.”

“C’mon. It’s almost our turn. You have to be quick with it.” Eren responds, gesturing frantically with your hands.

You awkwardly step forward, placing your hands on the sides before you pinch your eyes shut and press a lingering kiss to his neck. You can feel Eren lightly tilt his head back and inhale sharply the second you make contact – but you chose to ignore it.

You pull back and examine the mark, though it’s rather faint. Eren clocks it fast enough, as he gestures with his hands again.

“Another one won’t hurt. C’mon.” Eren whispers.

“Okay, yeah.” you respond.

You press your lips to his neck again, this time earning you Eren’s hand squeezing into your side – where it was resting at your waist – as you pull back and admire the mark. You look back up at him, feeling an itching sensation all over as you give him an awkward smile.

“You guys are fucking insane, you know that?” Sukuna mutters.

“Sukuna! Where the fuck did you go?” you respond, angrily snatching the little pins from his hands and securing them into your hair.

You sit back down on the throne, as you hear the little countdown ringing in your ear, and prepare yourself to sing the last portion of the song. You can feel both of their hands on your shoulders – squeezing hard – as you lift the microphone to your lips.

Big reputation, big reputation Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah And you heard about me, oh I got some big enemies (hey) Big reputation, big reputation (yeah) Ooh, you and me, we'd be a big conversation, ah And I heard about you, ooh You like the bad ones too

You rustle the crown off of your head and hand it to Sukuna, who walks over to the edge of the stage and tosses it right to Lana in the front row. Who takes it in her hands and breaks it in half before throwing it behind her back.

I hit you like, "Bang" We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me And I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul It's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks So here's the truth from my red lips

I wanna be your endgame (endgame) I wanna be your first string (me and you) (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (be your A-Team now) I wanna be your endgame, endgame I wanna be your endgame (oh, I do) I wanna be your first string (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (A-Team) I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The last part is the most nerve wracking. You had to abandon your sweet post of sitting in between Eren and Mikasa at your table for your last performance of the night – which was going to be announced by Danny and Sareen.

It’s like sitting on pins and needles, getting your hair done and slipping into the sparkly but scratchy dress. And surely enough, when you wait on the edges of the curtain and watch them stage your set – of a grand piano and little star decals – they join you at your side. You can feel your hands shake, nearly dropping the trophy in your hands, as you spare them a glance.

They’re shorter than you remember and frankly, less intimidating too. That coupled with the fact that Danny has a bright pink eye and the slightest bit of dried blood around his nose.

“What happened to your face?” you sneer.

Danny rolls his eyes.

“Ask your boy-toy.” he responds.

You fight the urge to smile, and make a mental note that Eren deserves every bit of your praise when you see him next, as you turn your head back to the stage, where the announcer is presenting the highlights of your career on the back screen. And surely enough, the two of them awkwardly jostle their arms in with yours as the three of you walk out together.

You stare blankly out in the audience. And refuse to smile.

You can see Eren sitting front and center as he gives you the smallest thumbs up in support.

“One of our crowning achievements is getting to work with this lovely young lady right here, on some of our most famous albums, like The Lucky One. Please give a well deserved round of applause for the unstoppable Y/N L/N, who will finally be gracing us with her triple threat performance.” Sareen states.

You note the drag in her voice when she says the word finally. And you fight the acidic feeling that accumulates in your mouth as you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you’re standing next to the two people you hate the most – who continue to take credit for the one thing that’s yours.

“Out of the three, Y/N has chosen to mimic the signing performance that awarded her this coveted prize. She will be playing her brand new song, vampire, on the piano. A true testament to all the work that the three of us put together as a team, in molding her into a skilled pianist.” Danny states, sticking his hand out to Sareen as the two of them walk off and take a seat right at the front.

You can feel your skin steaming as you place the award on the top of the piano and sit down at the keys. You’re able to catch Sukuna’s striking pink hair moving on your left – to the seats behind Danny and Sareen – as you take that as your cue to start performing.

Hate to give the satisfaction, asking how you're doing now How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about? Just what you wanted Look at you, cool guy, you got it I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise I loved you truly Gotta laugh at the stupidity

“Eren. You okay? You’re shaking the entire table.” Lana asks, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

Eren absentmindedly looks down and notices the nervous shaking in his leg, as he turns to his side and spares her a glance. He can note that Lana's concerned because this is starkly similar to the last time the two of them were here together.

When you were singing your isolating, heart-shattering piano ballad about him, while he was hanging his head in between his legs. After you had slapped him, after you had yelled at him after everything that had happened.

That was far from it. It was the way your hands were shaking on the piano keys that was stressing him out. He needed you to make it through the entire thing. Desperately.

“I’m nervous. I think she’s going to cry.” Eren whispers back.

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You’re crying.

Because all you can think about is how the two of them were just standing there, arms linked in with yours, in a moment that was supposed to be yours. That every moment that was supposed to be yours was theirs – and that even at the end of all of that, their still the one standing their proud with their careers when you had to suffer at the hands of it.

That taking your career was one thing, but taking advantage of the fact that you knew nothing was another. Because you were a teenager, who was so attached to her dream that she'd do anything to get it, especially when people at the top – were promising it to her.

All at the expense of Eren and his feelings. At the expense of your relationship.

You can feel your hands shaking, your vision entirely blurred as you feel the tears start to pour out of your eyes – your singing voice coming out entirely strained as you continue to push your keys on the piano. And you’re able to strain enough until you get right to the bridge and pause.

They had a responsibility to look out for you as an adult. And did the exaxt opposite.

You reach back to the slicked back bun and snag the pink ribbon that was secured into the little hair tie. The same pink ribbon that was dangling from your hair the day you were stranded in that godawful rain. And yank it straight out of your hair and wrap a little bow around the bottom of the award.

You wipe the wetness on your cheek, coming back with the slightest smudge on the back of your hand, before you press your hands into the keys and continue singing. The continuation has people rising out of their seats – and you don’t fail to notice that Eren’s the first one to do it – as you finish the song.

You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard? You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart I tried you help you out, now I know that I can't 'Cause how you think's the kind of thing I'll never understand

I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You take the award and stand up from the bench of the piano to walk straight off the stage, directly to where Sareen and Danny are sitting in the front. Sukuna’s taken the hint to leave the open chair he was sitting in between them and retreats back to his original, as you place the award in between the two of them.

“Congratulations. I hope it was everything you ever wanted, assholes.” you seethe.

You slam the award down onto the open space between them, enough for them both to jump up in their seats and spill a glass of wine down the length of Sareen’s dress, as you angrily march back to your seat. And surely enough, Eren and Mikasa are waiting there with open arms, ready to wipe your glittery tears away.

And as the cameras drop and they cut to commercials for four minutes, you lean your head against Eren’s shoulder as Mikasa pours you a glass of water.

“So fucking good. So fucking amazing, Y/N you–” Eren whispers.

"Eren even punched him in the face earlier, Y/N! It looked like it really hurt." Mikasa murmurs.

You look up at Eren, and he's grinning so hard, that you can't even fight the urge to not smile back.

"Why'd you punch him?" you ask.

"You slapped Scott Clarkson for me. Why am I not allowed to punch Danny for you?" Eren asks.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and look to your left to find Hange and Levi standing at your side, which really only brings on a more powerful stream of tears. Levi instinctively opens up his arms as you lean against his shoulder instead, Eren standing closeby with Sukuna at his side now.

“Was that everything you wanted Hange?” you groan.

Hange smiles.

“And more, kid. I, uh. Actually have something for you.” Hange responds.

“What’s that?” you ask.

Hange gestures to Connie at the side, as he produces a small, golden trophy in Hange’s hands.

“I really don’t give a shit about this anymore. S’kind of how it goes with this type of thing. But, I know this award, this one in my hands specifically meant the world to you back in the day, so I want you to have it.” Hange murmurs.

You frown.

“Hange. You can’t just give that to me.” you respond.

“You gave yours away because it gave you more pain than it was worth. Mine did the same for me at the time too. But, it gives me joy to give it back to you, because really, you deserved it. Back then, but even now too.”

You take the little golden trophy in your hands, noting that it’s much smaller and really not even as shiny as the one that they had just handed you, and press it close to your chest.

“Hange, thank you so much. You have no idea what this even means to me.” you whisper, as you wrap your arms around their neck.

Hange spares Eren a glance over the shoulder and gives him a big thumbs up, coupled with Levi’s approving smile.

It’s the rare times that Eren’s overthinking habit comes in handy. When he’s able to think ahead and fix things before they happen.

“I have an idea, kid.” Hange responds.

Levi and Hange give you a three day break when you get back to set. You’re not sure what exactly it was that came out of you when you did your last performance, but it was almost like it drained the life out of you. Eren nearly had to drag you back onto that plane and consequently, to your room, when you made it back to the set.

He thinks that you’ve finally let go of what you’ve been holding on to. And that you can finally move forward now.

You told him that Marco must have been haunting him overtime for the past few days, which earned you a hearty laugh from him.

And surely enough, on the fourth day, you’re able to muster your legs down to the kitchen – to a group of well meaning cheers from the group of them – as you read the little slots on the schedule pasted on the fridge. And surely enough, Levi was going to throw you right back into the thick of it.

Wednesday, April 6th, 8:00 AM

Eren Head Decapitation

It’s a stupid caption. If you didn’t know what it meant, you would even laugh at it.

But you had read ahead already – and knew that it meant that it was finally time for you and Eren to get that kiss scene out of the way.

next part linked here

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sapphiretanto · 1 year

Text

(CW: Ranting/Venting; the fic I am talking about will not be named, nor will I give the author’s name away. Please send me a message if you want to know)

Did we even watch the same show? He’s not a caring, big brother? He’s a stick in the mud?

The only thing I’ll give you is that he’s full of himself… because he’s an idiot teenager with badass fighting skills and weapons. Of course he’s gonna be a cocky little shit. Most people with Leo’s skill would be.

I’m going to assume that you mean part of the time he’s full of himself. But if you mean all the time, then I’ll correct you there. More often than not, he is actually very insecure— a very common trait among the Leonardo’s.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be leading the team?”

“It’s all my fault. I let the guys down!”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again”

“I’d just hold you back. You guys train, I’ll watch. It’s all I’m good for anyway…”

“I’m a liability to the whole team”

“I won’t be much help out there anyway”

Leo is a perfectionist and this shows in the way he leads— coming across as bossy or arrogant— and how he treats himself. The guy just got out of a three-month coma after he had the shit kicked out of him and what does he say when he’s by himself after everyone else went to look for Raph in the woods?

He holds himself to impossibly high standards— both placed by himself and some of the misguided lessons he was taught.

Alright, now for the stick in the mud part. Leo is a fucking dork (I mean this in the most affectionate sense). He loves Space Heroes to the point where he quotes it during missions. He likes puns, is fascinated by Japan culture, martial arts, meditation, etc. He trains very hard to excel at ninjutsu/martial arts— both so he can help his brothers in combat and because it’s a passion of his. That doesn’t make him boring in the slightest. He has some of the most ridiculous dialogue throughout the series:

“Alright guys. Let’s put Old Mother Hubbard back in her cupboard!”

“Hello!? Space Heroes!? Captain Ryan! Didn’t you see the episode where they fought the Cortexecons?!”

“Awesome! Oh, this is so rad! I feel like Van Helsing, but way cooler than him, actually. Way more rad than Van Helsing”

“Alright guys, prepare to dish out the mighty wrath of justice!”

“We don’t know he’s gonna do anything bad. He could be on his way… to… church!”

“I… don’t really have a pinky?”

He can’t lie for shit which leads to him saying silly things:

“Be cool. Be cool.” *answers phone* “uh.. hey man! What’s… what’s going down? *Raph says they better have not watched the Crognard finale without him and Leo laughs nervously* W-who, us?! Of course not! But I bet if we did watch it, we would have found it anti-climate… climactic!”

*gets asked by Chloe if there’s other turtles like him* “Nope! Uh-uh! Just me! Mr. Imaginary Talking Turtle!”

“He’s just kidding, Mrs. O’Neil. Kirby’s…uh.. on a.. safari! In Puerto Rico! And he won’t be back for a while.”

And he’s not the goody-two shoes and suck up people think of him as. He has gone behind Splinter’s back on several occasions, snuck out both willingly and unwillingly. The guy dressed in black and caused petty crime with his sister and her girlfriend Shinigami because he was pissed off at Shredder.

As for not being a caring brother. You mean this guy?! This Leo?! ⬇️

Couldn’t be this Leo, right? There’s no way he’s a mother hen— being both doting and getting after his brothers.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!”

“Mikey, you never cease to amaze me”

“Leo never left your side” — April when Raph was reduced to a mere plant by The Creep

“I’m sorry about Spike, Raphael.”

“Donnie, don’t lose sight of who you are!”

“Nice job, D”

“Donnie, the go karts worked great. Nice job!”

“Mikey, come on! It’s not that bad! And Raph promises not to make fun of you anymore.”

Not the Leo that uses all his strength and stays behind in the Technodrome holding Kraang Prime so his brothers and April can escape. Not that Leo who while just barely awake after a coma goes after a mutated monster in the woods to get his family back. Not that Leo who forced himself to stay calm so the others can be calm while they go through the most insane shit, or cannot grieve in the moment because he has to ensure the rest of their safety, so his focus during missions and battle is scattered in different places. Because he couldn’t possibly help bandage their wounds, worry when they’re hurt and not give up on a family member. Not Leo preventing Donnie from straight up unaliving Don Vizioso because Leo doesn’t want his younger brother to do what he did and change him like it changed him. He doesn’t sacrifice himself over and over because he loves his brothers, right? Right??

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 leo #Mari rants #mari rambles #just say you didn’t watch 2012 and I’ll be fine with that #I seriously don’t understand what is so fucking difficult to grasp #Leo isn’t an asshole who is boring as hell #he doesn’t hate his brothers #he isn’t master splinters golden child or the favorite as much a you wanna think that #tmnt 2012 mikey #tmnt 2012 raph #tmnt 2012 donnie

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kekaki-cupcakes · 9 months

Note

Hiiii! I loved ur Hermes kid!

Could I ask for a male son of Dionysus x either Leo or nico?

Sorry if I got ya wrong and don’t feel pressured or anything!

Have a lovely day!

When there isn't a lot of info in an ask I kinda have to make the reader a personality so that it isn't too bland too read so sorry to y'all that aren't like this <3

Redecoration---Nico di Angelo x Son of Dionysus

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico had been glaring at the roof of skulls for a solid ten minutes, sort of hoping the hatred in his eyes would just poof them out of existence, when someone finally showed up.

Apparently after an incident in the Aphrodite cabin, people weren’t allowed to just grab a bucket of paint and some new furniture to fuck around and find out, which was why Nico had been sent someone to help him fix the mess that was the Hades cabin.

Apart from the hundred skulls hot glue gunned to the rood, the beds were wooden coffins, the lamps were ancient looking chandeliers, and all of the walls were a dark ugly gray, like there was a serious mold problem. Now that he thought about it, the color might actually be a mold problem.

“Never fear, goth! For I am here!”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Nico took a deep breath and turned around, obsidian eyes already narrowed with dislike as he took in the taller boy trotting over. He was holding a crate in his arms, filled with color swatches and chunks of fabrics, magazines sticking out of the top.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who needs redecorating, right?” The boy asked, already letting himself into the dim cabin that smelt of rich dark chocolate for some reason. “Yeah… no offense but we have to fix this, even if you're the wrong person.”

Nico felt a sudden need to defend the atrocious carpet and bat shaped door knocker from this boy, who was wearing a maroon shirt picturing a glass of wine. “I was eight.”

“No shame here, everyone makes bad decisions.”

There didn’t seem to be any point arguing with this boy, who had already dumped the box of supplies on one of the coffin bed lids, and was staring around at the dark cabin, hands on his hips.

Nico just followed him inside, shoving his hands into the slightly ripped pockets of his aviator jacket. He peered into the cardboard box, which was promptly tipped out onto the ground. He watched with a frown as the son of Mr D sat on the carpet and began rifling through the empty notebooks and cut up magazines. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, scrapbooking? We can’t just start painting the walls yellow yet, you have to plan this stuff out, goth.” He said, as if it was obvious. Then he smirked. “You don’t like arts and crafts?”

Nico’s frown deepened, but he couldn’t let this mildly infuriating boy with surprisingly cool bracelets upstage him. “I love arts and crafts.”

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and pulled out a leather bound book containing a few stickers and a strip of torn paper where a page had been pulled out. “Are you just gonna stand there in the corner and be grumpy?... That wasn’t sarcasm, you can if you want, I was just checking.”

Nico wasn’t an asshole, of course he was going to help. Still, he had to glare at the boy for that comment. Then he sat down and opened one of the magazines, which was featuring a life sized Barbie Dream House bed frame, fluffy pillows included. He flicked the page over with a grimace.

“So, what kinda vibe are we going for?”

“What?”

“I’m assuming you're sick of Dracula,” he said, waving his arms at the general doom and gloom around them. “So what aesthetic are we replacing it with?”

Nico didn’t want to admit he hadn’t planned this far into the venture, he’d really just been hoping he could repaint the walls, or maybe burn the whole thing down and start over. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Okay, well… I’m assuming you wanna keep it edgy, but seriously? A roof of skulls? You’re not a caveman. Maybe we should go with an Addams family style.” He shivered. “With less spiderwebs and disembodied hands. “

Ah, another gap in his modern education. “What’s an Addams family?”

All Nico got in return was a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How do you not- okay, I’m making you watch the entire timeline later, but for now we need to pick a color scheme.”

Nico opened his mouth.

“Not black.”

Nico closed his mouth.

“Obviously there’ll be lots of black, but you need another color to fit with it, something dark and scary but colorful.” He pulled out a binder of color swatches, and flipped it open, skimming the pages of baby blues and lavenders. “Maybe dark green, or...”

“Red.” Nico said, peering over at the pages of ruby and scarlet. He pointed to the dark one, which had a little title below, ‘Blood red’. It was a little on brand, but it was better than ‘Crimson Tide’.

“Oooh, nice. If we keep the walls black, and pull up the black carpet, there’ll be floorboards underneath.” He started to ramble, ripping a color swatch out of the binder and gluing it into the leather bound book. He glanced around at the musty cabin.

“We can get a red rug for the middle of the cabin, and definitely new beds, but if we get Drew to refurbish the chandeliers they’ll look great. Oh, and the coffin bed frames could be a bookshelf if we get the mattress out and ask Nyssa to put some shelves in. Do you read? Because otherwise it’s sort of pointless. But so are the skulls on the roof, so…”

“You’re good at this.”

It took Nico a moment to realize what he’d just blurted, and when he did the warmth was already in his cheeks. He’d only been a little caught up in watching the son of Dionysus’s eyes sparkle as he talked, pointing to different parts of the cabin, and somehow ruined it. “I mean, you just sound like you’ve, you know, done this a lot.”

The glimmer in their eye didn’t fade, they only grinned harder. “I have. A lot. It’s fun!”

“I suppose so,” Nico said, his lips twitching, and opened another magazine. He skipped a page on clawfoot bathtubs [There was already a white one with gold trim in the bathroom]. There was a large heart shaped mirror, He ignored that too, and found a simple bedframe, painted black. He held it out gingerly. “What about this one?”

“Yes! Good job.” He said, snipping it out of the magazine quickly, and sticking it next to a picture of a glass chandelier. “If you’ve got a simple bed, we could find a zebra print blanket, they always look good with black and red, as long as you don’t have, like, leopard print.”

“I thought you’d like leopard print?”

“And I thought you’d like skulls on your roof and coffin shaped beds,” he teased, with a smug little smile. Nico rolled his eyes, and picked out a strip of dark red fabric, passing it over.

He shook some glitter from his hands, there seemed to be piles of it in the box. “It’s a little over the top, but it’s not as bad as Jason’s cabin. It’s just rock. Everywhere. And a giant statue of his father.”

“Maybe he can be my next client,” he hummed, wiping glue from his fingers onto the molding carpet beneath them. A few shards of rounded glass were taped to the pages of the scrapbook, shining in the light of the dusty stained chandeliers.

Nico wanted to object. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want the boy in front of him with glitter on his cheekbones and scissors in his hands to be cutting out pictures and teasing someone else. Instead he looked away, feeling something in his chest surge, something like fear. Fear of what, he didn’t know, but he cleared his throat and moved on.

“Don’t you have a sister too?”

The fear surged back forwards and Nico whipped around, his tone sharp. “What?”

“The roman one, I swear I saw her the other day, when Reyna visited to plan something or other.” he said casually, not seeing the pale tinge to Nico’s face. “With the overalls and the bulldog?”

“That’s Frank,” Nico said, his shoulder sinking with relief.

“No, I’m pretty sure it was Hazel, she had those light up sketchers, with the little wheels on the bottom.” He said, somehow with a moon shaped sticker on his nose as he stuck little cut out paper skulls around the four page collage.

“Frank’s the bulldog, he can turn into animals.” Nico had a strange urge to reach out and press the sticker on his nose, so instead he held his hands tightly in his lap.

“Well, is there something Hazel’d like in the cabin when she visits? Does she read?”

Nico sighed, and reached back for the magazine he discarded. He shook it open, cut outs of fluffy teddies falling into his lap. He found the page with the heart shaped bathroom mirror and ripped it out carefully. He could take a few hearts in his cabin if Hazel would like them. “This one.”

“Oh, that one's cute, Nyssa could totally make it.”

“I can ask Leo, he owes me a favor.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I haven't killed him yet.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico pressed down the front of his shirt. It was a black Camp Halfblood shirt, which he’d gotten from Piper after the Aphrodite cabin had started making shirts in other colors. Apparently there were only so many outfits you could wear with orange.

Black goes with everything though, so it wasn’t a problem for him.

He made his bed [closed the lid of the coffin] and dragged the last of the furniture not nailed to the ground out onto the little deck all of the cabins had. His decking only had a few pairs of shoes and a pot of dead roses he’d never bothered to keep alive. Maybe he’d have another go.

Drew had taken the chandeliers already, to polish them and whatnot, so he only had to wait for his assigned son of Dionysus to show up, and they could start hunting for zebra print blankets and ripping skulls off the ceiling. What fun.

When he still hadn’t shown up, Nico finished pulling all of the previously made bedding from the coffins and dumping it to the side so that Leo could turn it to a bookshelf [He could read, he just had dyslexia thank you very much], and then set off to the Dionysus cabin. It was easy to find, the only male god on the female side, with trelice’s of ivy decorating the whitewashed walls and a grumpy looking leopard snoozing on the purple swinging chair out the front of the small cabin.

He didn’t really want to knock, but he was sure someone would report him for standing around too menacingly if he just waited. He was saved from indecision when the door opened, revealing a tall sandy haired boy.

“You’re the goth, aren’t you?” Pollux sniffed, his nose red. “We can’t help today, but Butch is free, he can do some heavy lifting, and I’m sure Drew’ll criticize your style if you ask nicely enough.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I mean,” Pollux started, rubbing his eyes, and Nico only then realized he was still wearing his pajamas. They had an elongated cartoon owl sticking out of a doorway on it. “Skulls on the ceiling is a bit much, and everyone think you’re a vamp-”

“I meant with you guys, not my style,” Nico interrupted, his eyes narrowed.”

“Someone, decided to go visit Lou Ellen even though we all know she has a cold, and now I have it-” Pollux was cut off once again, his mockingly loud voice reaching the people inside.

“I’m sorry I was concerned for my friend, she wanted soup!”

“She always wants soup!” Pollulx yelled back, and Nico moved past the older child of Dionysus, slipping off his shoes and letting himself into the cabin.

There was nasally muttering behind him and the door slid shut. Nico peered around, and saw a bundle of fluffy blankets on a couch, only a sneezing head poking out the top. “Why did you get sick?”

“I mean it wasn’t really on purpose,” he mumbled back, wiping his nose with a tissue and sinking back into his cocoon. “I can’t help today, but-”

“I don’t care,” Nico started, and plopped down on the white couch, avoiding a deep red stain that could be alcohol or blood. He couldn’t tell. He also didn’t know how to say he’d rather sleep in the coffin again then have to spend the day with someone else.

He sniffed, falling sideways a little on the couch and squinting at the square tv, which was showing some old cartoon about cavemen. “Mkay, well you should probably go if you don’t wanna get sick.”

Nico thought for a moment, trying not to focus on how much he wanted to scoop up the bundle of blankets in his arms far too skinny for that sort of stuff. “Why don’t we watch ‘an Adam family’?

He got watery wide eyes in return and a toothy grin, “wait really?”

“No. If I was making a joke it’d be funnier than that.”

“Okay, let’s watch it,” he said, hopping off the couch and moving to a box of DVDs with a lot of energy for someone so sick. “And it’s the Addams family, goth. You have to learn the basics of this culture if you’re gonna have coffin bookshelves.”

He fiddled around with the tv and then a grainy black and white intro came on, tinny music over the top. Nico watched as he danced to the theme tune in his blanket burrito, all the way back to the couch, where he landed, coughing and winded. Nico raised an eyebrow. “I could’ve done that, you’re sick.”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” he mumbled, tucking the fluffy socks on his feet up onto the white couch and wiggling with excitement. Nico watched him for a moment, and then turned back to the TV, feeling his lips twitch into a grin.

Duh duh duh duh, click click. Duh duh duh duh, click click.

Their creepy and they're kooky-

»»————-　★　————-««

“Neeks, this mirror is so cute!”

“You’re welcome,” Nico muttered, rubbing his nose and rolling over, pulling the zebra print doona cover further over his head.

He heard Hazel’s wheelie shoes click along the floorboards and she gilded out of the bathroom. When he peered out, her hair was in bunchies and she was pulling a purple hoodie over her head. “It’s so much nicer in here now, but how did you get sick redecorating?”

“Uhm..There was a lot of dust. I might be allergic?”

The door slammed open, the clear chandelier hanging from the roof shaking as Nyssa trudged in, her work boots leaving mud on the fluffy blood red rug. She was holding the glitter covered scrapbook in her gloved hands.

“So, I know I’m supposed to make everything in this, but what am I supposed to do with the polaroid of you kissing Mr D ‘s kid?”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #nico #nico pjo #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo x you #nico di angelo x son of dionysus #hazel levesque #Pollux pjo #Hades #Hades cabin #death siblings

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inlovewithpandora · 9 months

Text

- Hidden -

Pairing: Human!Ralak x fem!pregnant!reader

Request: [ @teyamsbitch ] A constantly wanting junk food and B having to hide the junk food so she doesn’t get sick during her pregnancy. w/ Ralak || Ralak knows how junk food makes reader sick but reader is too stubborn and always makes herself sick by eating it so he decides to hide it from her and she whines but he gives her a substitute.

Synopsis: When a pregnancy craving hits you in the middle of the night all you want is your comfort food, the problem is you can’t find them.

Content: modern au, fluff, reader being a little stubborn, Ralak being a good hubby

Author’s Note: Thank you for sending this req in bestie, I loved writing it bc Ralak is so underrated. I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations🩷!!

- oc and art belongs to @zestys-stuff

Word Count: 759

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated🩷!

Links: Navigation || Avatar Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

As your husband Ralak was peacefully sleeping next to you, you felt a heavy pregnancy craving hit you. You didn’t want to wake him up, so you quietly walked out the room and made your way to the kitchen. You began rummaging through your kitchen cabinets, trying to find your favorite comfort food, but you couldn’t find any. With scrunched eyebrows, you recall the last time you went grocery shopping. It was recent and it was clear in your memory having specifically bought your snacks for times like this, so it upset you that you couldn’t find them.

When Ralak shifted in bed, he didn’t feel your warm presence, which made him get out of bed to find you. Walking around the house, he heard the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing, the fridge opening, and then your frustrated groans.

“Babe, what are you doing up so late?” He asked, voice low as he carefully walked into the kitchen to not startle you.

“I’m looking for my snacks, ‘Lak. I couldn’t go to sleep because I’m craving my snacks, but I can’t find them anywhere.” As he watched you search the kitchen from top to bottom, he sort of felt bad because he knew the reason why you couldn’t find them.

“Okay, don’t be mad, but I kind of hid your snacks.”

You turned your head to him so quickly you felt your neck was going to crack. “What do you mean ‘you hid my snacks’? Please don’t tell me you hid MY snacks from me like I’m some child.” There came times where he mentioned hiding them from you to prevent you from eating them, but this was the first time he actually did it. It annoyed you every time he brought it up, but to know that he dared to do it pissed you off because this wasn’t the time to deny you of your food.

“You know those snacks make you sick everytime you eat them.” Ralak wasn’t making that up, it was true. Each time you decided to eat them, they upset your stomach and sometimes it was to the point where you got nauseous and vomited. You knew they made you sick, but you didn’t care, all you wanted was to enjoy your snacks in peace.

“I don’t care about that, I want my snacks, Ralak!” You whined, wanting to finally fill your stomach so you could go back to sleep.

As you continued to whine and complain, Ralak reached into the top cabinet and grabbed an alternative snack he bought for you a few days ago. He knew this day would come and that he would need something to save him from being cursed out.

“Look, I bought you an alternative. Something that won’t make you sick.” Your nose turned up as you looked at the snack he was trying to offer you. You didn’t want an alternative because they never tasted like the actual snack it was supposed to imitate.

“Ralak, I don’t want it. It looks disgusting!”

Ralak just shook his head at your stubbornness. “Just try it, I bet you’ll like it if you give it a chance.” You reluctantly grabbed the snack out of his hand, hoping that it was good enough because if it wasn’t he was definitely going to get an ear full from you.

You opened the bag and placed some in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for a nasty taste to overcome your tongue before placing them in your mouth. As you chewed them slowly, taking in the flavor, you realized that they weren’t that bad. They actually tasted better than you expected.

As Ralak closely watched you eat, he noticed the small fire in your eyes subside now that you were having your cravings fulfilled. “Do you feel better now?” He came behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso while placing his hands on your swollen stomach and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yes, much better. Thank you for getting me these, I appreciate it.” You turned and kissed his cheek which caused a soft smile to curl onto his lips knowing that he made you happy. When you finished your snack, right on cue your eyes began to flutter close, which made Ralak pick you up and carry you into your shared bedroom.

After gently placing you in bed, he tucked you in and kissed your forehead, smiling as he thought about how soon it would be before your little bundle of joy would be there.

I hope you enjoyed🩷!

Previous Fic

Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon

Taglist: @neteyamsblog @hc-geralt-23 @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @number1gal @headsincloud9 @Maru @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @deadgirlrin @lina @merlinbtch @btsiguess-kpop @galactict3a @tiredmamaissy

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woso-fan13 · 8 months

Text

Whumptober 2023: 15 (Barca)

No. 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

It was so easy to hide. Although you were usually relatively active on social media, you had a backlog of photos that you wanted to post. Nobody noticed that you were posting photos from previous months, and, if they did, nobody cared.

You had mastered the art of ignoring a phone call and texting the person back after a few minutes apologizing for missing their call. Your teammates knew that you lived on a random schedule, it wasn’t hard to convince them that you actually had completely missed the dozen calls that you had received that day. You hadn’t, watching your phone screen, waiting for the call to go to voicemail every time.

You called out of practice for the week, insisting that you were sick. Once this week had passed, there were a few scheduled days off. You could take almost two weeks to try and regain control over yourself. You were spiraling, but no one could know. No one would know.

—-

A persistent knock grabs your attention. You had previously been zoned out in the living room for an undetermined amount of time. You try to ignore the sound and go back into your haze, but the pounding repeats. Again and again.

Finally, you pull yourself up from the floor, making your way to the door. Expecting a delivery that needs to be signed for or a salesperson, you open the door without looking through the peephole.

That was a mistake. A very mad Lucy Bronze is standing, hands on her hips.

“Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” she says sternly, “where have you been? The whole team’s been worried about you, you’ve been ignoring us.”

You don’t respond, staring down at the floor in the doorway. Lucy grows more impatient.

“I’m waiting. You better have a bloody good explanation, young lady.”

“I’m sorry.”

It's barely a whisper. It’s all you can say, but you know it won’t satisfy her.

“You’re sorry?! You’re sorry?! No, you’re sorry when you hit someone with a football, or when you make a mistake. You’re not ‘sorry’ when you disappear. You’re not ‘sorry’ when you leave the team.”

Lucy is ranting at this point, her anger clear. Every ‘sorry’ she said was spit, mocking you harshly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Lucy heaves a sigh, breathing in deeply. She’s trying to control herself, you know it. You would understand if she kept yelling. She should keep yelling, you have let everyone down. That’s all you do- constantly disappointing people.

It’s silent for a moment, Lucy refocusing. She looks at you for the first time, really looks at you. She sees the lack of colour in your face- your normally rosie cheeks drained to an almost translucent. She sees the dark circles under your eyes, begging for rest. She sees the red rims around your eyes, sees the dried tear tracks. She also sees the fresh tears pooling, likely a result of her harsh words.

Oh. She feels like a terrible bully.

“Y/N, kiddo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that, I was just scared. No one’s heard from you in over a week, we were all worried. I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, whispering, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she says firmly before lowering her voice to just above a whisper and repeating, “it’s not okay.”

Silence fills the air, neither of you know what to say. Lucy’s deciding how to best convince you to let her in, you’re deciding if it would be more effective to talk Lucy into leaving or to simply slam the door and lock it quickly. You’re leaning towards the second option.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

Every part of you is screaming not to let her in. Every part of you is screaming that if you let her in, she’s going to find out everything. Every part of you is screaming that if you let her in and she finds out the truth, she’ll leave you.

And, yet, you nod. You step aside, letting her in.

She smiles softly, stepping forward. She waits until you shut the door and turn to head back into the main area, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She pulls you tight to her side, the touch firm.

The two of you walk to the living room, settling on the sofa. It’s quiet again, the silence suffocating. But neither of you can say a word.

“I’m okay,” you insist, knowing that’s what she needs to hear, “I can handle things myself. You should go.”

That was good. Maybe she would leave, walk right out the door. Maybe, maybe, if she walked out now, she could walk back in later. If she stayed, she would walk out and stay away.

Lucy looks closely at you, as if trying to read you.

“You’re not okay.”

You go to insist that you’re fine, but as your mouth opens, you’re cut off.

“You’re not okay.”

And something, somewhere breaks. You throw towards Lucy, tears already dripping off of your face. You bury your head into her chest, your breath stuttering. She doesn’t know what to do.

“That’s it, get it all out,” she says.

She pulls you to be sitting in her lap, facing her as she hugs your body tightly. Your head is pressed into her neck, the skin instantly turning wet.

“Good, get it all out. Nice, deep breaths. Good girl, big breaths. Keep taking those nice, big breaths. You’re going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay. I’m right here, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

She continues speaking quietly to you, the words soothing. One of her hands is cradling the back of your head, the other running firmly up and down your back. The pressure helps calm you, and Lucy knows this. It’s also the reason that her cheek is pressed to the top of your head, grounding you.

Lucy knows you. And Lucy’s here. She’s not going anywhere, firmly connected to you now.

#woso imagine #woso imagines #womens soccer #reader insert #woso x reader #woso #woso soccer #england wnt #england #barca femeni #barca #barcelona femeni #fc barca #fc barcelona #lucy bronze

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zexapher · 10 days

Text

Art Imitates Life

Had this idea in my back pocket for what must be a few months now, but after Akumu_Oukoku’s wonderful ‘Weiss is silly’ meme, I thought I’d finally put this one together. That, and I wanted to make a little something to celebrate White Knight’s glorious victory in Ship Wars 8! The hordes of r/fnki well and truly descended upon the tournament, and all the better for White Knight!

I think there were a few folks on the regular sub that hadn’t quite realized just how popular White Knight had become within the community, but fnki itself has turned into something of a fortress for the ship, and the results of the tourney speak for themselves. White Knight really wound up dominating, becoming champion by an overwhelming margin, and with just Lancaster and Nuts & Dolts putting up strong competition in the previous rounds.

I’m impressed, and super stoked. It’s really something special seeing White Knight come out so strong after so many years treated as a pariah, having never before made it past the first round but now becoming the champion. The stars had aligned, really. The final round taking place on Weiss’ birthday, White Knight winning the championship being the perfect gift. Volume 9 had given the ship strong foundations to stand on. We can see that expressed in not only the various memes put out over time, but also in the A-Jaune-da alliance and numerous comments inundating the polls in order to promote the ship. White Knight shippers really had an incredibly strong messaging campaign this tournament, I might say no one else came close, and we always kept it positive. Everyone involved should feel proud.

Now, as for this meme, I chose these six characters (and Weiss) because I found it rather appropriate that they have all to some extent shipped White Knight in canon. Jaune, of course, is an obvious one. The story is littered with examples for him all the way through. Similarly, Weiss has been growing fonder of Jaune throughout the show, but Volume 9 saw her interest revealed in a very pronounced manner. Nora has the most tenuous claim here, having shared few moments with Weiss. However, Nora has a moment in Volume 5 where she teases Weiss about liking Jaune’s nickname, going on to tease the Ice Queen about her thawed heart.

Oscar, of course, gets his absolutely stoked look that he throws at Jaune when Weiss accepts Jaune’s invitation to the movies. Like, Oscar is just so happy for his big bro. Blake has a moment or two over the course of the show, notably her happy little glance between Jaune and Weiss at the Argus reunion, her smug look at the ~mature~ line, and how she perks up at Weiss’ giggle with Jaune about his restored youth. No real surprise there, since Blake is actually Jaune’s offscreen super-secret best friend. Yang herself throws a little dating advice Jaune’s way, and gets her ‘one day’ line, when our boy was down in the dumps following a rejection or two. She points out to Weiss that her harshness rejecting Jaune is the sort of thing that earned her the Ice Queen nickname. And, like Blake, Yang gets her own smug look following the ~mature~ line. Then there’s my most controversial addition to this list, Pyrrha. After all, she did walk Jaune through how to ask Weiss to the dance.

Yes, this was all an excuse for me to make a post about every little scrap from the show suggesting the characters ship White Knight. If anyone can think of any more, feel free to share. Maybe Cindere killing Jaune’s rival love interests, yet her attempts on Weiss’ life seem to have only helped Jaune and Weiss grow closer, hmmm. Well, I hope you all enjoy, I had good fun making it!

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