#and it perfectly describes what im going through in that moment

[maddisandy]

you dont find mitski songs mitski songs find u when the time is right

#currently looping my body is made of crushed little stars #like i know her whole discography but i always happen across a song during a specific time in my life #and it perfectly describes what im going through in that moment #mitski #lush #retired from sad new career in business #bury me at makeout creek #puberty 2 #be the cowboy #laurel hell

[majornaxxx]

"You're mine you stupid slut."

ღ "Can you write a toxic baby daddy neteyam finding out reader went out flying with her boy bsf and he argues with her just to manhandle her and fuck her?" Req from @lowryv

ღ. I ENTIRELY FORGOT ABOUT THE BABY DADDY PART UNTIL I FINISHED WRITING IT I'M SO SORRY

But this has been the most fun (and most challenging to write) to date! I hope I did the prompt justice! (Please enjoy im sensitive (jk))

ღ Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, a little dubcon??, ooc Neteyam OOC NETEYAM OMG ,P in V, possessive Neteyam, Name calling @ reader (stupid, bitch, slut, ma,), Name calling @ Neteyam (Daddy), slapping, hair pulling, brief choking, rough blowwjobsss, reader no get to cum :(( (It made sense to me), mentions of Y/n

The view in front of you was beautiful, various shades of orange and pink, the night sky just slightly peeking out from above the clouds. You sailed through the air atop your Ikran, breathing hard from the adrenaline rush you were coming down from. An excited yip sounded behind you, and you turned to see a figure passing you. Large wings flapped gently as the creature dove down to land on a rocky ledge, the rider hopping off and turning towards you. He yelled something and waved his arms above his head in a "come here" motion. You obliged and began your descent, landing beside his Ikran.

When your feet touched the ground, he playfully punched your shoulder with a wide grin. "Y/n, that was incredible what you did!" Atu'ran exclaimed. "It was nothing!" A short-winded laugh left you as you tried your hardest to catch your breath. "Oh, nonsense!" His tail lashed behind him as he described your adventurous escapades from hours before. He excitedly chatted on, his arms and hands creating big gestures as he acted out the scenarios he narrated.

Atu'ran had been your best friend since childhood. Your parents had been best friends long before you were born, the relationship trickling down to the two of you. Today your friend had convinced you to go flying with him all afternoon. "Calm down, Atu'ran." You laughed as you stretched your arms and wrists, grunting at the soreness from holding the harness for hours. "Now, why should I?" He extended his arms above his head and slid down onto the ground with his legs crossed. "I can barely get you out anymore."

"Bullshit.." You'd learned the word from Neteyam, the unfamiliar human syllables rolling off your tongue. "What makes you think that?" His expression changed quickly, and he sheepishly ducked his head. "Well.." He started. "He's been taking up a lot of your time since the announcement that you are to be mated. In all honesty, it's begun to worry me."

For some reason, his statement irked you. "Spending time with my future mate is not a crime, Atu'ran." You said, turning back to your Ikran to fiddle with the harness. "Of course, but you two are attached at the hip. I worry you're, I don't know, losing yourself to him?" You sucked a sharp breath in through your nose and turned back to look at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"N-Nothing bad, of course!" He waved his hands in front of him as he looked up at you in an attempt to save his ass. "You're just- You've changed." He was not helping his case. You rested one hand on your Ikran and the other on your hip as you looked down at him. "Neteyam and I spend a perfectly normal amount of time together." Your eyes narrowed.

Atu'ran frowned and slowly stood up, standing an entire foot taller than you. "I just-" He hesitated. "I care about you, Y/n. I only wish for the best for you."

"Atu'ran-" Your voice cut off as the screech of an Ikran echoed around you. As the massive creature soared overhead, you instinctively shielded your face with your arm. The winged creature landed beside you, and the rider quickly dismounted. You barely had a moment to see who was coming towards you before they shoved Atu'ran to the ground. "Back the fuck off!" They barked.

Oh, Eywa. "Neteyam!" You flitted forward to grab onto his arm. "Leave him alone!" He paid you no mind and continued to reprimand your friend. Atu'ran shuffled his way back towards his now growling Ikran as Neteyam yelled. "Neteyam, we can talk about this-" Your future mate promptly cut him off. "If I catch you around Y/n again, I will hang you as an ornament in my hut!"

He suddenly stood on his feet, baring his teeth at the warrior across from him. "Over my dead body." His sudden boost of confidence was seemingly a death wish. "She is MY mate-" "and you have done nothing but puppet her to do whatever you desire." Atu'ran cut him off. It felt like forever as the two men stood, gaze locked on one another, expressions filled with hatred. Atu'rans gaze flicked towards you, silently posing the question, "Whose side were you on?"

"I-" Neteyam turned, his gaze boring into you. His eyes sent shivers down your spine, and you twiddled your thumbs as you lowered your head. "Atu'ran, he IS my mate.." Your friend scoffed, turning his head away. "I expected more from you, Y/n." He said, grabbing onto his Ikran harness and pulling himself onto the beast. "Wait! But-" "I'm done waiting." He scoffed, yipping and sending the Ikran flying into the distance.

After a moment of silence, Neteyam turned to you. "You were late." You could hear irritation in his voice. "W-We just went flying, 'Teyam!" Your voice cracked as you shrunk into yourself. "Just flying my ass." He hissed, snatching your wrist and pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want you around him, Y/n."

"He's my friend!" You exclaimed. His grip tightened around you at your words, causing you to suck a sharp breath through your teeth. "You're mine. Do I need to spell it out for you? You do what I say," His free hand slid into your hair, "When I say it." He suddenly gripped a chunk and pulled you closer to him. "Look at me, Bitch." The action caused you to cry out, eyes squeezing shut. His breath was warm against your face as he growled. "Now." He pulled harder.

Your eyes shot open to stare into his. "Stupid fucking girl.." He chuckled. He let go of your arm, running his fingertips down your sides and stopping at your hips. He suddenly brought his hand down on your ass, firmly grasping the flesh, causing you to gasp. Knees wobbled, and your bottom lip quivered as the action sent electricity between your legs. "Who do you belong to?" He sighed, ducking his head down to your neck and running his tongue across your collarbone.

Your attempt to pronounce his name failed as you trembled. He released your hair, running his hand down your back and stopping to untie your top. "Who do you belong to, Y/n?" He suddenly nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck, causing you to yelp. "I- You! You, Neteyam!" Your hands flew forward to grab onto his shoulders. The loss of his warmth as he drew back caused you to whine, the noise cut off by a slap across your jaw. Before you could grab your face, you were turned around and bent over. Your arms bent behind your back, Neteyam held your wrists with one hand. "Who do you belong to, you stupid slut?!" He snarled, his free hand cracking down on your rear.

"You, Daddy!" You cried out as tears pricked at your eyes. He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he began to grind his hips into you. Somewhere along the way, his tewng had ended up by his feet, his bare erection rubbing against your ass. "You need a reminder, Ma. A good fucking reminder."

You shivered as he slipped your top off, reaching around to squeeze your breasts as he continued to grind against you. "Don't move your fucking arms." He demanded and promptly let go of your wrists. After a few moments, your uncomfortably wet tewng was slid down your legs, exposing your pussy to the evening air. You sighed, the noise cut short by a squeal as he slipped his cock between your thighs. You whined as he dragged his length overtop your clit, avoiding properly fucking you. He groaned, rolling his head back as he felt your warmth against his cock. "Fucking wet…" He moaned deeply. Suddenly, he pulled his hips away entirely, causing you to whine at the loss of friction between your thighs. "Nete-" You started, crying out when he suddenly thrust forward, filling you up entirely.

"Fuck!" You whined, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Neteyams hand found leverage in your hair once more, causing you to yelp as he began to fuck you. His free arm wrapped underneath you as he held you up and against him. Your legs trembled and shook as his cock hit deep inside of you.

His breathing was rackety and hot against your ear with every movement he made against you. Your hands scrambled to find something to grab onto, eventually grasping onto the arm he had put around you. "You wanted this right? You hung around Atu'ran all afternoon just because you wanted to be fucked?" Neteyam hissed. "N-No! 'Teyam, I didn't!" Your voice cracked as you spoke. "Don't lie to me, Y/n. You just wanted to get filled like a stupid fucking slut." Cries and whines escaped your lips with every thrust as he continued to accuse you. His hand released your hair as he wrapped it around the base of your throat. "Talk to me, Ma. Don't just sit there."

A sob escaped your throat as the tears that had been building up cascaded down your cheeks. "I swear! I didn't want Atu'ran!" Your nails dug into his skin as his cock continued to abuse your sopping cunt. "I don't believe you." The hand he had used to squeeze your throat ducked between your legs, his index and middle fingers making circular motions over your clit, the onslaught of new sensations making you quake.

"I guess I'll give you what you want, right? To be fucked stupid? Only Daddy will do it better than that cuck Atu'ran ever could." He snarled into your ear as he continued abusing your poor cunt. "Fuuuuck, you're so much better than Atu'ran, Daddy!" You slurred as your vision became blurry, eyes half-lidded.

"That's right, Ma.." He chuckled as he laid another slap across your ass. "You're mine." Your legs shook as you began to recognize you were close to cumming. Neteyam seemed to realize, his thrusts slowing down to a painfully mundane pace. "N-No! Daddy, please, please let me cum!" You began to whine as he took away your release. "Stupid girl, did you forget?" He slowly pulled his cock outside of the warmth of your pussy and groaned. "You don't cum until I cum."

Your wobbly knees caused you to topple onto the smooth stone, panting and shaking. Neteyam's name spilled from your mouth in mumbled gasps as the disappointment sunk in, knowing you wouldn't get to finish. You sat on your hands and knees as he let you go completely. Carefully observing, he walked to stand in front of you, slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Your head snapped upwards to look at him with teary eyes as he chuckled, sliding his hand under your chin to grasp your face.

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, and you shivered as his touch sent butterflies to your stomach. "So fucking pretty when you listen to me." He purred before sliding his hand to the top of your head. "Listen to me, and you'll get to cum." He said as he stood. Neteyam wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes before positioning himself in front of you. He tapped it against your lips a few times before you opened up in an "o" shape.

His grip suddenly grabbed a chunk of your hair as he pulled your head down. You let out a choked squawk as your hands flew up to grab onto his legs for leverage. Neteyam settled into a quick pace as he started to fuck your throat, grinning as you looked up at him with teary eyes. "Hows my cock taste, slut?" The taste of yourself on your tongue from your earlier activities sent warmth between your thighs as you continued to swallow him whole.

He laughed as you answered his question with a muffled "mmhmm..", obviously unable to properly answer due to your throat being stuffed full. He balled his hand into a fist in your hair and began to push your head to meet him in the middle, groaning and allowing his head to roll back. You picked your hand up to cup it between your legs and he yanked you backward, his palm striking across your cheek. "You don't fucking listen." He hissed and grabbed your head with both hands. His palms on either side of your head, he began to thrust into your mouth at a quick pace.

Finally, you were able to tear your head away, gasping for a breath. "'M sorry Daddy.. I'm so sorry Daddy.." You panted as you forced yourself to meet his eyes. "Stupid slut." He snatched you and began to manhandle you as he fucked your mouth, causing you to squeal. "Not getting away from me now, bitch." Neteyam growled.

Nails digging into his thighs, tears fell down your face as he filled your throat. "Drink every fucking drop for Daddy." He grinned as his thrusts became inconsistent, eventually stopping as he came. You let out a muffled hum, Neteyam pulling your mouth off of his cock with popping noise. "Swallow it." You nodded, coughing, but swallowing and opening your mouth to show him nonetheless.

"Good fucking Girl.." He exhaled through his nose with a groan. His hand slid underneath your chin to tilt your head upwards, wide teary eyes meeting his. "Bet you'd spit Atu'ran's out." He chuckled, your face turning pink suddenly remembering your scorned friend. "Stand up." He commanded, and you scrambled to do so, wobbling on your feet. "Get on your Ikran. We're going home." Neteyam reached down and tossed your clothing back at you.

"W-wait, what?" You stuttered. "What about-" "If i'm going to let you cum after what you did, it's going to be in MY bed, Y/n." He spun to look at you, deep eyes boring into you and sending shivers down to your pussy. "Yes Daddy-" You squealed as you began to frantically tie your tewng back on with shaking hands. Neteyam yipped, and the two Ikran who had previously flown off returned to land in front of you. His squawked, and Neteyam laughed with the large winged creature.

He pulled himself onto the back of the beast and turned to face you. "Be quick. I won't let you cum if you aren't back within the hour." The statement made you immediately turn to him to protest, "Wait! But I can't get there in ti-" "Within the hour, Y/n. Unless you want to get Atu'ran to take care of it? I'm sure he knows your body well." He remarked. "N-No! No, I'll be there!"

"An hour." He stated before taking off.

ღ

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #fanfic #smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar twow #atwow #atwow neteyam

[nomercyanywhere]

stuck in an elevator with suguru (made him flirty and pervy cus im ovulating rn)

ー ー ー ー ー

it was hot.. though it was spacious, but the taller man standing not too close behind you was taking up half the space, how tiny you must've looked in his eyes

the tension was strong, the air felt thick, the way his clothes wrapped perfectly around his muscular build, his narrow eyes, how attractive. you feel yourself get sweaty.

you've always admired him from a far, had been crushing on him for a while now, but was too shy to go approach. that all changed when shoko introduced you though, sure you were still shy but at least you can get a closer look at his handsome face now.

"you okay?" he smiles "mhm.. s'just so hot is all.." you smile back, tugging at the collar tightly wrapped around your neck. "hm, yeah... you don't mine if i take my blazer off right?" oh? lucky!

"no, f'course not" you chuckle at the end, god, a thin layer of sweat coated his collarbones. you pictured him sweating, then drops of it falling off his chin, he's panting and grunting, hard, as if he was-

"hey. you're all red, you sure you're okay? you can take yours off too you know" he reassures you before dropping his own on the floor. "um, alright.." had you any self respect left?? get yourself together! he was just worried, s'not like he's asking you to strip naked... you wished that happened though

...

"you know... you stare alot." his back was pressed against the wall, looking at the ceiling.. what-?

"uhm- excuse me?" you hesitated to look at him, blood rushed to your face faster than 911 rushed to you guys' aid.

"oh come on, you're so obvious it's kinda cute." he moved in front of you, you felt small and weak. obviously standing beside him would definitely make you feel like that but this time, it's as if, you can't do anything, you're helpless.

"you stare at me when i walk through hallways. when i study, when i eat..." he stopped to look at your flushed face, even bent down abit to get on your level. "wished it you i was eating didn't you?" he whispered

oh, how badly you wanted to hear him whisper the nastiest nothings in your ear.

you were too shy to respond, were you really that obvious? you felt pathetic. he was kind enough to let you know you weren't though

"look at me sweetheart" he gently grabs your chin, then aligns it with his face, he chuckles "your lips are all puckered, you want a kiss?" your eyes shot closed when he said that

you didn't pull away though, you wanted to kiss him, been waiting for too long. "i asked a question" domineering, is the correct word to describe his voice at that moment.

"yes please" you quietly squealed, "hm? i didnt catch that, you mind repeating?", what a fucking tease.

"i.. i want you.. to kiss me".. "where?"

his arm snaked around your waist, slowly pulling you in, your faces just inches away from each other, felt his hot breath on yours.

"here..." you point at your lips, "heh, good boy" before stuffing your throat with his tongue, to make both of your comfortable, he lifts you up and presses you against the warm metal wall

he broke the kiss "up you go.." then went again, this time, more desperately and rough.

your teeth clashed a few times, then you pulled away for air,, for a minute, he looked in your eyes, and you looked into his.. then he looked down at the growing tent in his pants

"fuck.." he pressed his hardon on your clothed cunt, grinding it a bit. "feel that? that's all yours honey" the slick from yours dampened the crotch area of your pants.

"so.. what now prince? hm? we can stay like this if you want~" he says before rubbing into you, "want.. want y'in me.. please. please suguru.." you weakly replied before wrapping your legs around his waist

"i didnt hear you baby" he kept on teasing you and you grew tired of it "i want you inside me please! wanna feel,, feel you deep in me please, wanna.. feel your hot cum filling me up..s'much" you blurted aloud, "that's more like it, good fucking boy-"

you held onto him as he unbuckled his pants and ripped yours, then he aligned his tip with your tight cunt, "ready?" didn't even wait for your response, he thrusted all the way in, balls deep.

"oh fuuuck, shit. you're so tight-" he groaned, around your tight hole hugging him.

you felt full in an instant, just how big is he!? what a beast, you thought. "y'feel me love? hm? where am i huh? how deep am i inside your tiny cunt~" he playfully moves, causing his massive dick to move inside you as well

"y'right here.. s-so deep in me.." you pressed on the bulge forming in your tummy, "keep your hand there, i want you to feel me fuck you full" he puts both your legs onto his shoulders, then began thrusting

they were deep, slow, strokes. your moans were quiet and subtle, because none of you knew when the guys that should be helping you will arrive. so you tried to keep it down.

.. h wasn't making it easy though, with each thrust, his dick kisses your cervix, like it's trying to get inside your womb

"ffuuuuck, feel that? if i move again, im gonna go in your womb~. but you want that don't you naughty boy?" he stayed still till you've given him your answer

you couldn't utter out a single word, for it'd be incoherent, you only gave him whimpers and moans. it felt too good, he felt too good, every vein, every curve, you felt it throb inside your pussy.

"god, yes please~!" please please please please fill me up!!" your nails dug into his nape, cunt clenched around him. he smirked before holding you still, "m'gonna breed you" *plap* "then leave my cock inside you" *plap* "so" *plap* "im sure you've taken all of my kids~"

he picked up the pace and began pounding into your slippery cunny, both your nasty moans and groans filled the tiny elevator.

his sticky balls would slap your ass and his pubes would tickle your clit, not to mention that with each thrust he shoves it alll in you, makes sure that not even 1inch of his dick is left unburied

"fuck, your legs are shaking~ y'gonna cum?" he looked down at your soppy cunt, gushing out your juices whenever he goes in. you had failed to keep your hand on the bulge now that he was fucking you nonstop

he flicked your clit over and over with his thumb while continously hitting your sweet spot, "ohh, you're shaking so much honey, this is gonna be a big one isn't it?" you watch his thick fingers play and tease your swelling bud

"dirty, dirty boy... satoru likes you, y'know? what do you think will happen if i send him a picture of how stupid you look around my cock?" he stopped playing with your clit and grabbed both your legs and pressed them against the wall, you looked like you were getting mating pressed but standing.

"psst, hey, have your lost it? this is just 2nd round baby~" he gently slaps your cheek. oh, your head had gone blank, the words didn't even reach you

"ss.. second r-ound...?" you tried your best to look him in the eyes, but to no avail, he just chuckles and continues his fucking you

"don't pass out yet sweetie, want you to feel me pumping you full" he pounded into you so harshly you had forgotten where you both were

the elevator suddenly collapsing a bit startled you, must've snapped you out of that fucked dumb zone because you dug your nails deep into his broad shoulders

a short yelp escaped your mouth, "shh, it's okay, I'll keep you safe, just hold onto me" he whispers into your ear before wrapping both arms around your smaller frame.

he was close, very close, his dick twitched and throbbed, he messily pounds into you then- you heard the doors opening, a group of men had finally arrived to you guys' rescue

"suguru─!".... "oh fuck.."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #ftm reader #m! reader #male reader #nomercyanywhereliterature

[1-49]

성찬 : Feeling every bit of this neon midnight that has filled my veins.

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: jung sungchan × f!reader

❝ In which you catch the interest of a handsome stranger at the party, and he embarks on a night-long odyssey in order to validate this* awkward attraction, he strongly believes you both feel.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: romance, some fluff, suggestive; strangers to ? slowburn one-night stand kinda?

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: +18 i drag a lot in this sry. tiny bit of pinning; real tense and awkward energy; flirting; mixed signals; sungchan is messy; in a sense, he’s both confident yet appears doubtful and insecure at times. stolen kiss ups implied hot moments/dialogue lines. few magic scenes

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: no joke im obsessed with sungchan. this has also progressively made me grow more in love with him he’s so effortlessly lovley & funny, my introvert ass could never! the energy? the personality?? like, no broo stop! i envy him sm. his way with words too...

also any feedback, reblog, or support of any kind will be appreciated. tysm, and enjoy!

A fine night, or so you thought, a showcase of stars in the sky. And while you are admiring the display of lights, in the middle of your peace, you hear the echo of an intruder ──── the sound of someone demanding to get in.

Who would be so brave? Who is willing to leave a party in order to get to you?

U let it pull u closer to the stars, this stranger’s energy that shifts the gears in your head. A stubborn being! Can’t he have a bit of patience? What could possibly be so urgent? What could he possibly be looking to discuss? As far as you know, the rave is inside, not outside.

[22:22] You wish you could describe the magnetic pull you felt just moments ago. 

[20:20] In keeping with the occasion, you took great care to make sure you felt and looked your best for your friend’s celebration. You chose a black outfit in accordance with the principle of seeking style through simple tones. Simple wide pants, a velvety sleeveless top, an open back, and some crystals hanging from your ears are enough elegancy to captivate someone. A desire for someone else’s eyes.

[22:23] Moreover, you are trying to make sense of the situation once you get to the balcony, relieved that no one is there to disturb your peace.

Sungchan’s intention, however, was never to make you uncomfortable. 

[21:45] On the other end of the room, he had already skimmed everything and everyone, not because he was that type of character, but because he was bored and new to the scene, and his inner extrovert was urging him to go find someone to befriend as soon as possible.

The options were plentiful at the scene, and the liquor in his hand resolved through his system a little faster, making him less rational in his decision. That is how your presence from the other side of the room alone helped him—some mysterious, indescribable force drawing him in.

You… 

Sungchan could not figure out why his gaze kept circling the room, passing from one person to the next but always returning to you. He rapidly became solely focused on you. The way you discuss something so profound with your friend makes him think it must be something so interesting and intriguing; the way it has you so invested in the matter undeniably gets him a little curious, secretly wishing to be in the same position your friend enjoys you. Simply put, the indulgence that you are in causes him to become greedy.

The way you smile now and then, the way your teeth graze your perfectly glazed lips, the way your earrings sway—there is just something about you that never ceases to attract his attention.

As a result, he does something about it.

You…

You notice his heated stare at you from afar and across the room—hell-bent, dense, and begging for you.

Sungchan does not immediately offer you a smile, nor does he try to be flirtatious in his gaze, but he absorbs you with such passion, concentration, and keenness that it honestly begins to make you feel super uneasy. You are having trouble reading him. 

Thus, as you start to pay more and more attention to him, things start to gradually work in his favor. This also begins to fill you with an odd sense of thrill, and before you know it, you are champing at the bit.

That tummy twirl as the eye-string between you works like a live-wire. Sungchan, lazily propped against the wall, significantly taller than anyone, and with such a pretty yet tempting set of eyes, and with the intimacy you share with him, easily begins to excite and scare you at the same time.

He possesses a spark that straddles the line between danger and enchantment. And sometimes you try to casually shift your eyesight and abandon the site, but the response you get when you return your gaze, which you always do, is that of a wounded animal.

Such a ‘casual’ face that molds into a hot one, then softens and becomes dear in a matter of minutes that whatever you two exchange quickly involuntary culminates in your breaking. Seeing him with his brows tied and slightly pouting, needy and greedy as to why you would try to wonder and abandon him even for a little, is a sight that makes your tummy clench at nothing.

You wish you were strong enough to respond to his request, whatever it is—like holding his stare until your confidence crumbles and he subdues you, or holding his stare until he is truly bored of you and can move on to the next victim.

And, because you are unprepared for any of this and are getting gagged by the space that is gradually getting more packed, you decide to dip the party in order to get some fresh air flowing through your brain.

[22:22] You are leaning over the metal rail, trying to inhale all of the lost air from earlier, and for a brief moment, you feel yourself again, relieved that you are still holding on to that sliver of confidence you promised yourself before this event even began. But the way this complete stranger was erecting himself around you had almost brought everything you had sworn to a halt.

You consider the view from the balcony to be ‘perfectly splended.’ Neon lights make love and oppose the monotonous yet sparkling dark blue sky above you on a very cold December night.

You shiver as you realize you are skin-naked against the harshness of the cold air. It is icy cold, but you are trying to ignore it for the time being. To your advantage, you try to enjoy the solitude of being alone; the tranquility of falling snow is far more appealing than the warmth of the place inside.

True, the bitter cold could not scold you out of there, so someone else had to. You are irritated when you hear the glass door slide, but you do not turn back because you know this one, whoever it is, is coming for your peace. 

A pair of hands approaches the rail, and in you sight of vision you notice the grip is somewhat firm, but you do not attempt to acknowledge this person’s presence. Not because you are cruel or ignorant, but because you simply do not feel like it right now. Someone disturbed your peace while you were seeking refuge; it is understandable to be agitated.

“Are you not freezing here?”

The ferocity with which this intruder delivers his words reveals that it is not only his hands that are strong but also his sweet, ’somewhat’ deep voice. It is enigmatic that you are not allowing yourself to be more selfish toward him; he craves your attention, and you provide it.

“I do not mind,” you say as you turn to face him and realize it is him.

“Obviously, your skin tells a different story,” he observes.

And who gave his eyes the go-ahead to roam your flesh? He is still an issue, and you can feel his gaze on you even as you try to fix yours on the scene in front of you.

Sungchan, on the other hand, is a little more confident, and from what he can tell, he still has an impact on you. Apart from the irregular breathing and chest rise, his only doubt is whether the way your skin is covered in goosebumps is due to him or the cold weather.

“I just needed a breath of fresh air. I am doing fine.”

“As you say,” he tries to give you the space you seek by shifting his gaze away from you. “Does not the cold bother you at all?”

“I suppose not. It is something I am used to.”

After a few minutes, you bring yourself to ask, breaking the little silence you two have built. Your feeble attempt at small talk, and, of course, regarding the host of the party because you can not think of anything interesting to say right now, it is as if he is taken over your mind and dumbed you down in the process.

“Are you related to Eunseok?”

“Oh,” he says, giving you his first smile, which is as bright as the light reflected off the lake’s surface and warmer and sweeter than a freshly baked apple pie. “Why? Do we look alike?” Honestly, a warm smile that could make the sun feel cold, and it is spilling out of the corners of his deep brown eyes.

Is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight? 

Certainly, no, but—

“Oh, no, no,” you say, backtracking in your head to see if your question was stupid. Finally, you admit, “I am just trying to make small talk.”

“I am aware of that,” he smirks triumphantly, as if he has finally won you over, because being under someone’s influence causes one to doubt and second-guess their statements, and you are doing just that, which he finds absolutely adorable.

You clearly sulk at his victory. “So?”

As a result, his smile broadens even more.

“Eunseok? Eunseok is a friend. A very close one.”

“Ah, I see,” you exhale a sigh of relief. It is even stupid, strange, and awkward that you feel this way, but you do.

“And you? Who is Eunseok to you?”

“May I say, a friend from work? We volunteer together.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly. “Strange, he has never mentioned you.”

“How can you be so certain that he hasn’t when you don’t even know what my name is?” You retort.

You are met with silence. A complete one. 

Perhaps he disliked the tone of your voice and the way you responded.

You are not sure what to make of the situation because seconds are turning into minutes and he has not said or asked anything else besides what you asked. You are worried and perplexed as to why you are still glued to being here when you could simply return inside and enter the warmth of the apartment, but you do not.

Why? What is it that keeps you here? Why are you staying out here in the cold with him?

Sungchan immediately abandons his pursuit of observing the city, the moon, and the thousand snowflakes falling from the sky when you finally turn your entire body his way. He is not interested in them anymore, if he ever was.

You unintentionally and unconsciously bring your hands together to hug yourself, not to express to him how cold you are but as a reaction to being out in the cold for too long and forgetting your coat inside. 

Your earrings flutter in the breeze, teasingly brushing against your neck and shoulders as if they were windchimes, and you are the music for him.

The wind also tangles your hair as it blows through it. Messy in the sense that your ends sometimes stick to your lipgloss and you try to ignore it. Most of his attention, however, is drawn to your delecate collar bones. And you are not wearing a bra underneath that velvet piece of whatever it is you are wearing. So the hug and squeezing on your chest only highlight your prominently hardened, sensitive spots for him.

And whether all of this divine show you are putting on is for him or not, or if it is all unintentional, Sungchan will have to figure it out on his own.

Sure, for the time being, everything is so unintentional, and he is aware of it. Sungchan understands that the cold has a big influence on how you look right now—the allure of it all—but deep down, he still believes that he, to some extent, causes it, that the cold creeps and shivers that linger on your body are brought on by him, and that it is not just the cold night.

And when he sees you like this—the neon lights reflecting off of you, the countless soft flakes landing on your face, some nestling and making a home in your hair, the way your eyes invite, and the little stars beneath them—he realizes how much he has grown dependent on you in such a short period of time.

While the neon dyes around you, he is hooked on your messy appearance. Blurred illumination and twinkling stars in the distance, but you are the star, beaming with lust in a riot of colors, or so he believes.

“Here,” he says, undressing his overdyed denim jacket in the hopes of trapping you within it—within him.

He does not even give you a chance to object. So, “thank you,” you say softly, despite the fact that you are anything but calm at the moment. His warm hands have brushed up against your arms during the process, which is a legitimate reason for your emotions to become agitated. “I did not bring mine,” you add to be more convincing. “I did not think I would be out this long.”

Sungchan grins from behind you, enjoying the intimacy the action has brought. “It is okay,” he says, brushing down the length of your now-covered arms.

His voice, words, breath, and scent rush from your hair to your ears at the same time. They are far too intimidating, but he is so smooth that it is contradictory, forcing you to disintegrate slowly. 

You are trying your hardest not to melt in his arms, but it is a difficult task. You close your eyes for a moment, cursing the thoughts that keep popping into your silly little brain, but this has been such a small gesture—a nice gesture by someone to cover someone. This is perfectly normal. This is not unusual. People frequently go out of their way to cover others who are cold. So everything is okay. This is completely fine. ‘It is fine,’ you tell yourself.

He lines up next to you once you have been wrapped in his scent.

“What is so funny?” you inquire, noticing traces of satisfaction on his face. The majority of them are smug, but it is the bite of his lips to suppress the smile and its reflection in his sweet eyes that perplexes you. He is soooo

“Nothing,” he flirts casually. His eyelid and nose bridge home these tiny, exquisite specks that wink at you, adding to his soft, angelic physiognomy. And this much is true: they are invisible to false gods, but when it comes to you, nobody is more capable of holding onto you than those moles.

“Hmph,” you murmur, cocking your brow. “All right,” you say, only increasing the smile between his bitten lips. Like this, Sungchan is quickly becoming someone who is difficult to be normal about—someone to yearn for.

Mid-eye-flirt, your eyes drop involuntarily, whether due to insecurity or not, but they do. They are on their way to examine his white cotton tee shirt, his broad chest and even longer shoulders, his venied and shivered ivory arms. His neckline too is begging for lips.

You consider his height and how your head would not even reach his shoulders if you were not wearing heels. Perhaps your high will be at his heart level, making it ideal for your ear to check on his heart palpitations. You have gotten so far in your delusion that you are wondering what it is like to kiss someone so tall.

“Sungchan,” he offers playfully, aware that he is destroying a fantasy you are creating in your head.

“Uh,” you remark. Is he reintroducing you to reality? You are extremely embarrassing. You clear your throat and respond with your name.

He begins to softly nod his head, his lips curving once more. The neon is intensifying him in the same way. He looks almost flamboyant against the soft, snowy backdrop that stretches far away.

And, should that be the case, does this signify that your two are now officially flirting?

Considering that the way he looks at you clearly has you sucked in. He wants to arouse your highs and make you fantasize about him even more. And, even if you think this is just another ‘barely even a’ fling, he is powerful and genuine, as well as strangely familiar and gently captivating.

The rest of the background fades away. You cannot feel the air or the ground beneath you; all you can feel is his gaze. Everything dissolves and energizes the ecstatic present, and your constantly rambling mind becomes thoughtless. 

By the time he breaks the intimate, soul-crushing silence again, you know you are captivated by him and you no longer want this to be a fling. This is the first time you have failed at flirting. And you know you cannot be bailed out of what is to come. In fact, 8.2 seconds of eye contact is required for love at first sight to happen. 

“Why are you here?” He asks casually, as if the minutes leading up to this point had not been too private. “Outside by yourself, I mean? You do not like it inside?” 

Now that his jacket is covering you, he has more room to investigate you, which feels like a fair trade for information. Of course, you did not ask for his jacket, and it was he who rushed with it, which is, to say the least, compromising, but here you are.

“I do not know. Not really. All I needed was some fresh air. It became too suffocating in there all at once, so I had to flee.” Given that he was the reason you left the crowded room, your smile appears phony. “It has also been a long time since I had a night out. So many people and everything... Strangely, I like it here even better. Regardless of the cold.”

“Regardless of the cold?” He teases.

“Regardless of the cold,” you say firmly.

“Mhm. I see what you mean. I can say the same thing.”

“But it is you who is freezing in the cold right now,” you say, concerned.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

If only you knew that the cold does not reach him. Being here alone with you is almost everything he does not want to lose.

Unfortunately, such a situation can only last so long. The cold, like the undefined chamisty, will eventually find its way into someone’s bones. You two are complete strangers, neither here nor there, and the atmosphere quickly becomes tense once more. It is borderline hot, cold and awkward. You are both at a loss for what to do next.

And, despite the fact that Sungchan is overjoyed to have you here, spending your precious time on him out of anyone else you could possibly be with, which undoubtedly must mean something, he is aware that he wants more of you, but how does he get there?

Perhaps someone joining you two on the balcony for a smoke can help alleviate the awkwardness that has developed between you two? However, when two more men join you to smoke on the balcony, his only concern becomes protecting you.

For whatever ‘self’ reason, he does not want you to share this space with them. Behaving in a selfish manner, he offers, “Come on, let us go inside. It’s too cold.” Because of the high likelihood that you two will part ways again, even he does not understand his thought process, but his mouth and a strong desire not to share you with anyone may be faster than his brain.

You, on the other hand, naturally accept. As if you could choose. He was the one who offered you the warmth of his jacket, and he is the one who is now freezing in his tee for you. That makes you feel guilty, but not really because his jacket carried the scent that clouded your senses. You admit that whatever you had going on was nice while it lasted.

And you do not let go of his jacket until you are both inside and you are ready to give it back to him. Again, it is not like you want to let go of it. You really do not want to, but you must.

“Thank you for not letting me freeze out there,” you say softly, handing him the overdyed piece of clothing, the dying ember in your eyes almost to the point of yearning. Half hoping he cathes upon it, half believing it is best if he doesn’t. A conflict with yourself.

“You don’t have to thank me. I am glad I could assist.” And as he gently picks it up, he becomes hesitant, as if he does not want to because he will have nothing to bargain with you for.

Sungchan feels like he has already lost you to the mass of people around him, and he feels like he is coming down to being nobody to you again. So he drags on this moment, picking up his jacket, stretching the second as much as he can, and making sure his hands have brushed and touched you irrevocably.

Time passes and the tension dissipates.

[23:13] After an hour, you are still trying to keep up with your few coworkers, who appear to be planning to call it a night and leave. You do not have much of a choice but are thinking about following their decision because Sungchan has not made any further moves towards you.

Simultaneously, this is the point at which you wish things had gone differently, and you consider many different outcomes if the dice had been rolled differently.

What if Sungchan made his move twice—once when he discovered you in the entire room and was determined to have you, and again when he got close to you on the balcony—and this time he was waiting FOR YOU to prove your true intentions and finally admit you are interested in him?

Uh, just when you thought you were going to get away from him, you find yourself wishing for more of him.

However, after witnessing you and your friends bid farewell to Eunseok, Sungchan realizes that it is now or never: lose you or have you. 

He dislikes trusting time and does not want to leave you in the future. To play the ‘if’ game. He wants you now, right now, in the present, and he will be damned if he does not tell you. As a result, he rushes to say his goodbyes, leaving you both on the same elevator.

[23:20] There is him, you, and three of your friends in the elevator, and while your friends are in the front and you are in the back, he makes sure to horn his way in to you. Fortunately for you, your friends are unaware of him and will not tease you, as no one has noticed your short romance tonight except the two strangers on the balcony. And they are also so lost in their heated debate, resulting in nothing but noise to fill the cramped four-wall space.

Even though the ride down is brief, you find yourself wishing it were longer because you cannot quite figure out Sungchan’s motifs. He is difficult to understand, in contrast to how he was at the start of the night when your gazes met across the room, when his intentions were banging on your heart’s door, eager to get in. You are not sure if the mystery he is leaving you is drawing you closer to him or making you more distant. You realize you do not want to lose him, and you tell yourself that there must be a reason he got in the same elevator with you, even if he does not say anything.

Sungchan’s fingers brush against yours at that precise moment, and he begins subtly playing, then slowly intertwining them with his, never compliantly taking your hand in his. The forbidden pleasure of the action takes the edge off—just him doing this, teasing you in front of your friends, teasing you so casually that he does not even address you. He is just doing this nervous dance as you turn to him, observing his side profile and looking for meaning in his actions, all while his gaze is fixed on the door in front of him.

So carefree, until the elevator stops and all of you exit, leaving him casually tagging behind.

And, once again, because he does not say, address, or ask you anything, and it was your friends who drove you here, it is only natural that you return to where you live with them. 

Why hasn’t he asked you whether you want to stay or go with him yet? Is he leaving the door open for you to make the next big move? Is he unaware that you are not a pursuer? Why is he putting you in this awkward position where every thought and notion ends with him?

For better or worse, you decide to work on it, telling your friends that you have forgotten your phone at Eunseok’s and will head up to look for it. And all the while they insist on waiting on you, you persuade them to leave, that you will be fine calling a taxi and that they should not worry because you may have changed your mind and will stay a little longer at the party as well.

What a scumbag lie, but it works in the end. Getting rid of them was probably one of the worst decisions made in tonight’s series, and for what? You are not even sure why.

‘What are you doing?’ ‘What the f—is this?’ You curse under your breath, despite the fact that you appear cold on the outside but are all hot and bothered on the inside. As you make your way back to the elevator entrance, a few more curses escape your lips as you wait for your friends to leave. Once they have left, you retrace your steps, noticing Sungchan standing there, checking his phone.

“What do you want!?” The request comes out a little louder than you expected. But, in your defense, you are only as direct and blunt in your candor because of his mixed signals.

Sungchan, surprised, lifts his face away from the phone, and the screen noticeably lightens and strengthens his features, giving you tunnel vision with the darkness around you and forcing you to focus on his lips whether you like it or not.

To their benefit, he adds his low and deep tone, “What do you mean, what do I want?”

“Don’t—”

Sure, one way to do this is to be playful, deny, and mislead. And he is still doing a fantastic job of it. However, you can only take so much right now. The more he complicates things, the more you want him, and the more you want your answer, no matter how promiscuous the situation makes you appear.

“What were you doing inside messing with my fingers? Why take the same elevator? Why were you looking for a place to stay earlier at the bacony? Your cryptic cues are, to put it mildly, lame.”

“No, you are right,” he says with a smirk that would irritate even a god. “I am usually direct. Maybe I just wanted to take the long way around this time. And I was not doing anything. They just brushed naturally.”

“Sung—” you clench your teeth, trying to recall the rest of his name. “Sung—” but nothing comes to mind right now.

“Chan. SungChan,” he emphasizes. The satisfaction of seeing you lag when you probably want to throw hands with him is clearly visible on his face, and he is powerless to stop it. “What meaning did you find in them? I mean… our fingers touching? Many people will take nothing away from it and will most likely dismiss it.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious? If you have a question, why just not ask me?”

“I already have. What meaning do you give us?” He speaks slowly, but with assurance and fixation. He is aware of the confidence he is currently displaying, so he might as well make it more lethal. “What do you want me to ask?” 

He would rather you express yourself. You! And, despite the fact that he already has a decent idea of your feelings and desires, he wants you to be more explicit about them. That is why he persists in pressuring you to give in to him. To hook you. To persuade you to ask questions. To convince you that you, too, need him. It is almost as if he is subtly switching roles. And it is he who is being chased this time.

“Oh, it has become what I want now?  you mutter. “I cannot believe it.” Turning around, you plan to start walking away from him. You are done with his nonsense.

But Sungchan’s long arm easily reaches out and firmly grasps your wrist. You pause for a moment, unsure whether you should turn back and acknowledge him, but you do. You cannot help but be annoyed because he will not ask you the question you know he wants to ask. He does not. In fact, he dragged on every opportunity he could have asked you tonight, and it is because of him that you lost your drive back home, and it is because of him—and it—

Is his ego that big? And if he does play, why for so long? How did he turn this into you running after him, which is completely opposite of who he was and what he wanted at the start of the night? It is heinous.

But, once again, the two of you can only take so much in the cold weather.

His warmth, in contrast to the cold, spreads from your wrist up the length of your arm to your neck. Hot that feels oppressive but relieves the chill.

His cheeks are undeniably flushed, and the adorable tip of his nose is irritated red. Your jaws begin to twitch, and his lips follow suit. A cold breath begins to emerge from beneath your noses, and your bodies begin to shake as you begin to burn from within. Such unavoidable conflict lingers on your face, and for a brief moment, he feels sorry for having you freeze out here. Sungchan might have had his games going if it had been a warmer season, but that is not the case right now. Finally, he brings himself to put an end to it all.

“I will give you a ride. You must be freezing.”

“Give me a ride!?” You mock, attempting to shake your wrist free from his grip, but it has no effect. You are so fed up with him.

“You lost your ride home because of me, right? He says it with a cheeky grin, as if he is proud of himself, as if missing your ride because of him is such a big accomplishment. “It is only fair that I do something abo—” It is like rubbing salt into a wou—But-but his intentions are all pure!

“Oh, my god,” you say, disbelievingly looking up at the sky before returning your gaze to him. “You are such a jerk. I never would have guessed you were this bad.”

“Your place, or mine?”

“Your game is awful. I am not sure how many times I have to remind you of—”

“As long as it works.”

You bite your lower lip in frustration while rolling your eyes.

The game is bad, but there are not many alternatives. Your phone is still in your small bag, as it has always been, and your friends have gone. Returning to the party or freezing to death are neither of the options that appeal to you. As a result, you end up in his car as the least bad option.

To put it mildly, the ride to his place is quiet; his grip on the steering wheel appears to be steady and relaxed, whereas you are a fucking mess. You desperately hope you do not come across as such and that what is going on inside does not show on the outside, despite your earlier efforts and utmost failures. It is frustrating because you were the one who persuaded him to respond, and you were the one who stayed with him—without him even asking. 

Therefore, everything that has happened up to this point has been an inaccurate reflection of who you are. You hope the circumstances did not boost his ego even more and make you a lesser version of yourself.

You divert your gaze away from the window by focusing on his side profile while he maintains his gaze on the road. Uh, infuriatingly beautiful! So, you decide, carelessly, to press the ‘imaginary’ pedal even harder, dazzling reality onto the fantasy, oblivious to the consequences and what if they worsen? And all they need is what you are about to say to escalate the situation.

“You do not strike me as the type, you know?” 

“As the type to?” 

Nervous, you rub your thighs. “The perplexing kind. To play games,” you pause. “Your smile is lovely, and your eyes are too sincere. You have the face and energy of someone who can play the cheeky extrovert in charge of the party atmosphere. Someone who is witty while remaining sweet. I think that your current self-presentation does not accurately reflect who you are. To be honest, I think you are terrible at pretending. You are so bad at it that you are losing at your own game.”

He remains unaffected, looking ahead at the road. “Then let us keep pretending. I can keep up the tough guy persona for you if you want.”

“It is not about what I want. Plus, you weren’t like that at first.”

He thrives on your somewhat nice compliment. “Was I someone sweet?”

“Shut up,” you repeat, and neither of you says much else after that.

The bottom line is that he can be anything you need him to be. And you notice it the moment you both enter the elevator, your backs against the opposite walls, the gap between you closing but not closing completely. The silence is still, awkward and sexy. 

In the literal sense, he is a walking contradiction. Why is he staring at you with his head pressed against the elvator’s metal, his stark jaw, neck exposed, and this dense ‘undressing’ look in his eyes, never losing his sweet smily charm in front of you? He is so good at it that you both despise and admire him. He both thrills and terrifies you. 

You have to keep wondering how he manages to be both endearing and seductive. It is peak performance, and it must have taken him a while to get there. It makes you long for him in ways you never imagined possible.

The type to give you a backhug followed by a kiss on your hair while saying, ‘You are mine,’ and then easily transform it into a chokehold while whispering in your ear, ‘Mine!’ 

Someone you would consider kissing or biting. Someone you would consider walking hand in hand with only to have him act disrespectfully later, when you are in a safe place and it is just you and him. Someone who will kiss your temple and then invite you to sit in his lap.

You close your eyes at the culmination of your thoughts. You are certain he can sense your internal temperature,  even if he is not touching you. He is touching you in ways you have not been touched before, and this time it turns into an elevator ride that seems to last forever and you wish it would end as soon as possible. 

[23:48] Stepping into the hallway, you try to pick yourself up and carry on from where you melted. You insert the key into the keyhole of your door and invite him in, but you are really second-guessing yourself and questioning your actions. However, it is too late. It is too late because the moment you close the door behind you, you are trapped against the next wall.

Whether provoked or not, he begins sliding your coat down, his hands coming to grip on your shoulders. 

Dazed and hurried, you search for some sense in his eyes but you cannot find any. This causes you to resent your hasty, ill-considered decisions, and you try to protest, but no words come out of your mouth. When did things begin to move at such a rapid and high rate?

Sungchan, fit and lean, towers above you, cornering you and putting you in a scary situation where your only way out is to scream. His overdye jacket rises with him as he raises his hands and rests them on each side of you on the wall. Your gaze shifts to his tiny waist as a tiny bit of his white tee peals away, revealing some of his hips.

You silently gulp at how quickly everything resolves. Your words and thoughts are both stuck deeper inside your mouth and will not form.

“Look at me,” he says, pointing out your excessive staring at the floor.

“I-I” 

Naturally, you cannot go on because your words are failing you. Should the deep look in his eyes in the elevator forewarn you of what he is about to do?

So, in order to get you to look at him, his fingers grab the thin strap of your top, intending to yank and tear it. Of course he doesn’t, but his strategy proves to work instantly as soon as your eyes meet his.

You start to tremble under the complete hot mess of his deep browns, wondering what would happen if he continued the action. The only thing keeping you from being too exposed and naked for him is the velvet fabric that clings to your body. It gets so hot so fast that you are not sure how it is possible, all while your heart feels like it is about to leap out of your chest. Self-defense kicks in, and you raise your hand to your sternum to keep the material in place just in case.

“What exactly is going on?” You ask, stunned, caged by his hands on both sides of you, and already gone.

“You ask as if you haven’t already calculated the distance between our lips and guessed the flavor of my tongue,” he gruffly replies. “This is everything we both desired from the moment our gazes met across the room.” To make matters worse, he whispers, “Don’t deny it.”

A thought flashes through your mind, as sudden and powerful as a firework reaching the sky, because that is exactly what has been poisoning your mind. That is all you have been able to think about. What would it be like to kiss him? How would his lips taste? Is he the type to smile through the kiss, mocking you because you have given up?

“That—that is completely un—untrue,” you mumble, turning away from him and looking at the door.  But your neck muscles work with you, and is the current exposed line meant to tease him even more?

Sungchan seizes the opportunity, moving in closer, pushing your legs apart, and resting his knee against the wall between them. His figure is far too intimidating, while his lazy smile and curious lips climb your provocative neck to your earshell with a bit of his gut feeling that this is where you break the most. “Do you already regret inviting me?” 

His tone and breath are light and breezy, like soft sunlight peeking through the curtains at dawn, revealing a scent of freshness as they enter your little universe. They are, however, comfortably casual, which makes him attractively persistent at the very entrance of your ear. “I have already altered, if not ruined, your night,”  his lips almost kissing under your ear. “We might as well give in to this absurd affection. What have we got to lose?”

And waiting for an answer, having reached this stage, his instincts and the part of his brain receptive to pain are already bracing themselves. He can feel them clenching in his gut as this two coming to three hour-stand-situation has blurred the lines between lovers, strangers with ‘potential’ benefits, and something resembling a budding romance.

As you keep staring at the door while pressed up against the wall, beneath his words, his high and his strength, completely at his mercy, your thoughts are also protesting against being so emotionally fiercely oppressed. They are getting out of hand, to be honest, as the dislike of not wanting to be clingy, the desire to not be subdued, or the fear of yet another heartbreak are no longer enough to keep these rising hopes in check.

“Tell me,” he demands softly. Soft-skilled, his hand turns your face to him without your permission. He has no concept of consent, and gently, with doe eyes, he thefts your emotions.

“Sung—Chan,” you scorn in a moan as he holds your jaw in his hands and demands that you see…

“You made an effort to remember my name. I am confident you will remember my face as well.”

“You have a pretty forgettable face,” you lie, maintaining your larger-than-life persona. You. make. him. smile. 

One of those smiles...

‘FUCK!’

Sungchan’s lashes flatter above you, like venom attempting to doom you, as he catches you ‘dream walking’ between his teeth and his thumb, wishing he could push it past your lips and touch your tongue.

“Will you be able to forget a face you ruined?” He eventually asks.

In pain, you furrow your brows. You are at a loss for what to say in response to the nasty compliment-turn question. It is all on you. You were the one who started it. You are such a speck in comparison to him, having concluded that he is extroverted in every way possible.

“Yes or no?” The more he demands, the deeper his voice becomes. “Answer me,” he says, lowering his head so that his nose brushes against yours. As you watch him formulate his question, his eyes close.  “Will you be able to forget someone who intruded on your night in a very honest attempt to—to”

His other hand, which is gripping your waist, tightens. A real physical touch that threatens to melt your left side as you become unconscious of how much your legs rub against his that is between yours. The star details in your eye makeup could be mistaken for tears.

“Seriously,” he says against your lips, his confidence slightly backtracking. “Did I ruin your night?” Adding flaws to himself when he is perfect, “I have been messy and—”

You succumb to his lingering words, losing your voice and forgetting how to breathe, and the closer he comes to you and presses his body against yours, the more sensitive he becomes to the situation. The more he craves it, the more he overthinks, questioning whether he is doing everything correctly. The more he does not want to lose you, the stronger his possessive feelings become.

Obsessed with the idea of making you his even for a single night and oblivious to the idea of consent, he does not waste a second longer and brings his lips to your exposed neck, causing a new wave of warmth to spread out.

You feel your body quiver and break out in a cold sweat. His desperate, awfully warm lips awaken your moans, allowing him to revel in how helpless and breakable you have become this late into the night. And as a reward for his patience, he gets these tasty little audible treats.

“Sungchan,” you mutter in a complete filmic daze, hot all over and clutching his jacket and pulling him even closer to you. “We-we”

He groans into your neck, a whiny protest that caresses your already electrified skin, because he is too far gone, too shallow in his tender need for you, and looking into your eyes now would be too humiliating. All the while, he has to keep his ‘irresistible’ guy impersonation in check, right?

As a result, you are the one who uses force to get him to stop. You give him one last look before pressing your lips against his. You cannot think of anything else but having him smear your gloss all over your face. But before you can even feel his lips violently unite with yours, he pulls back. It is barley a peck. 

So, now, you are not sure if his provocative, melancholy expression is meant to delude you even more or if he is actually thinking. But what this giant really does is count to ten before unleashing his thrust that has been building for some hours.

His big hands seize your face again, but this time he tugs on your bottom lip first, retaining it between his teeth and claiming you before moving on. You realize that even the finest alcohol you have ever tasted has never been this potent. The softest, smoothest, and lightest silk you have ever touched does not compare to his hands on your face.

Sungchan’s sweet scent, taste, and shameless sighs overwhelm all of your senses, culminating in you ghasping in his mouth. In his struggle for dominance, his tongue is selfish, and his hand lands on your waist again and starts to pick up the material, exposing your skin to his touch.

His hand smoothly glides across your bare skin before groping you so hard that you bite him back, giving in to your wild side.

“Ouch!” he hisses, furrowing his brows. He takes a step back and completely releases you.

With him doing this, you finally recognize the coldness of the night for what it is because it hits you all at once, and not literally in the sense that the room is cold, but you feel extreme coldness in the distance he just created. You are aware that you and he are still at the entrance and have made no progress, but you are more concerned that you will be unable to continue due to his most recent halt, which you caused. Everything appeared to be going well; your lips had finally paired and become the same, but you had to go and ruin that.

His hand drops and grips the handle. But only if you knew this was your last chance to let him go—the last time he gains enough control to restrain himself. He hopes this is the last time you think clearly before realizing that if he stays, he will be unable to leave this place without leaving you ‘scarred’ in some way.

The kiss’s spontaneity and rapidity caught you both off guard, blanking your thoughts and leaving your minds so empty that neither of you knows whether staying or leaving is more rational.

In response, Sungchan’s hand presses lightly on the handl—

An aching “Stay!” escapes your used lips as you lose control through a clenched fist.

“Why do you need me here?”  he wonders.

“I don’t know! I suppose I want to remember this kiss, but it was so brief and happened so quickly. It surprised me.”

“I thought you said I had a forgettable face. So, what good is remembering our kiss?”

‘Mean’ you think to yourself. And what better than to offer him a silly stay? “I have a wonderful bottle of wine waiting to be opened,”  you remark as you pick up the coat from the floor and hang it up. “Oh, and you have to meet my fish. One of them looks exactly like you.”

His soft roused pink lips curve into a smile as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Something shifts in you when he laughs. It is as if your heart is swimming in honey. You want to drink it.

“How can a fish suddenly resemble me?”

“See?” you say as you lead him inside. “You are curious, aren’t you?”

“If you accept that we just made out, then fine.”

You return his sarcasm with wide eyes, noticing him softly poking the inside of his cheek and pouting his lips. He is flirting with you a little more confidently now that he has been officially invited into the heart of your privacy, which is your home, and is no longer considered the intruder.

[00:14] In the living room sits the stoic aquarium with his twin fish. The tank emits a cozy neon magenta blue in the middle of the dark room, creating a familiar color atmosphere to the one earlier at the balcony. 

As you two get closer, each of you takes a position on each side of the tank. Sungchan appears to be ecstatic about the fact that you were speaking the truth, that you were housing fish at home, and that you were not lying.

“You weren’t lying,” he says automatically, astounded by the several small creatures flapping their tails gracefully. Each one is unique and divergent. They go about their business, going through their insignificant daily loop. Some even resort to randomly breaking out of the loop by lightly tapping their mouths on the glass.

“Can you spot yourself?” You crack the joke over the glass wall.

He investigates the situation further before declaring, “They are kissing,” his finger pointing to two fish at the tank’s very bottom, partially hidden by the green seaweeds.

“Oh,” you say as you tap the glass to scare them away and get them to stop, “they are not ‘in love’ with each other. Actually, fish are the opposite. They are fighting. I am guessing you assumed one of them was the one who resembled you,” you say, tiptoeing to catch a better glimpse of his face over the tank.

He, on the other hand, is not troubled in the same way. He is tall and imposing. “It wasn’t me if they weren’t kissing... Do fish not kiss?”

“Fish may rub against each other or press their bodies together, but this is not kissing, whereas fish who touch their lips or lock in a passionate kiss are most likely sparring or engaged in battle. When this occurs, they are attempting to injure each other, which can cause severe damage. So, thank you for noticing. I might have to take action on this.”

“But why?”

“Because if you have fish that are engaging in this behavior, you must separate them as soon as possible before they injure or—The-the consequences can be fatal, okay?”

“A kiss that can kill?” he muses, his eyes brightening as he becomes fascinated by the matter.

You sense his intent, as if he had not delivered such a kiss a few minutes ago. Even though it was brief, it served as both bait and, most importantly, a promise.  That is, it could have been much worse had he not broken it. You have no doubt that he withheld his lethal kiss from you.

“Ugh,” you sigh, pointing a finger lovingly at him to correct his misbehavior. “Don’t look fascinated, as this is bad for my fish.”

He grins at your petty, silly threat.

Casually, as the fish swim in unison, unaffected by their monotonous routine, his eyes begin to reflect the contents of the salty tank. He is both close and far. The light enhances his face’s magical mystery, and you notice another tiny mole at the edge of his upper lip as he opens his mouth in delight. It is as if a top secret has been revealed, and you appear to be the lucky recipient. So tiny, yet celestial. Something simple but meaningful. How come you did not notice it sooner? 

Since he is always attracting you so calmly, you eventually come to the conclusion that Sungchan is a true meance. There is a slow-burning beauty about him—a beauty that destroys peace. Soft brown, like the coffee that inks the back of your throat and leaves you asking for more as your mind begins to crack. There is always some bait for you to take—some feature or trait of his that he is constantly working on in order to get you to long. His eyes, his pretty hands, and his towering physique. His broad shoulders, his side profile, and his absolutely stunning nose. 

However, his tiny mole is now attracting your attention back to his lips… And the truth is, the last time you thought about his lips... Well, you got them! Which, once more, is something you can have if you wish it.

He reverberates deep inside your innermost thoughts. ‘What about this killing kiss?’ ‘What about it? Just wh—’ You wish to know!

To clear your mind, you choose to pose a question. “Do you know about the soulmate theory? People say that moles are where your lover kissed you the most in your past life. Which indicates that you have—”

“I kissed a lot,” he cuts in.

“You have had a lot of kisses,” you point out.

“Then, what is more repulsive to you: me being frequently kissed or me being a promiscuous kisser?”

“How can I be the judge? You must have done a lot of kissing. That is all there is to it.”

“Alright. But I am curious. How would you kiss me if we had to do it all over again? ​If we had to take things slowly?”

“Wh—why are you asking?”

“Because everything up to this point has felt like a high that has caused me to act on impulse. But now that I am standing across from you, this calm and comfortable essence, the soothing sounds of this water tank... You. All of this balancing act of our energies seems to be helping to calm down all of that rush. I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.”

“Right!” you chuckle at him. “What exactly do you mean, Sungchan? Your eyes tell a very distinct—y-your your smile—” You pause for a moment to examine his sincerity, and you discover no flaws in his truth. “Wait, you ARE serious.”

Different shades of the same cyan and magenta spread across his face, each time so new yet so familiar. He rubs his chin, then runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it. “I am.”

The sweet, calming vibrations that he seems to be floating on top of blend with sensual and suggestive ones in a way that is beyond comprehension. How is it possible for someone to be both extremes at once? Sincerely, there is not a comb in the world that could possibly untangle your knotted feelings at this moment. You have had no idea how terribly screwed you are until this point.

Hence, your gaze returns to the fish, and you can tell by the sudden shift in the air that he is about to say something you wish he hadn’t. You make every effort to get him to stop. “But—”

“Look,” he wins over you; “your ability to completely eliminate my desire to socialize with anyone at a party in favor of creating tunnel vision speaks for itself.” 

He takes a moment to think of what else to say. “And-And we haven’t even gotten to the laughs and the banter, the bad sarcasm, the conversations, or the warmest embrace... The next-day breakfast that culminates in a ridiculously serious spectacle of coffee making, which I thoroughly enjoy from the best seat in your kitchen while you wear my t-shirt, which fits you far better,”

“Sungch—”

“But that’s THE future. So, then, of course, if I am just a one time guy, I am not kidding when I ask what kind of kiss you want. If you are going to remember or take something from this night, it might as well be something worthwhile.”

At least you should not be held accountable for falling in love because Sungchan is beautiful with his carefully chosen words. And as the chemistry reaches its peak, you realize you can no longer resist it. You tiptoe a little more to get a better look at him without having to look through the glass.  His eyes pierce you with a clarity you have not seen before, and you can feel him pulling you through the glass and water like a magnet.

You cannot put it into words, but something is there. A million thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams are exchanged without the use of a single word. You let the magnetism take over. 

And so he smiles as you drown, or is that his coping mechanism for drowning into you as well? 

Really, is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight?

Overcoming the rather tiresome governance of fear, you decide to speak in favor of your ‘lust-ings’, despite the fact that you never intended to spend the night with a guy, let alone invite and bring one home.

“If I had to imagine another kiss, it would be one that happened on the spur of the mome—”

In actuality, everything that has happened so far has happened spontaneously. Startled,   he cutely leans over the glass tank, gripping the top edge with both hands. “Again!?” 

“It seems to suit your personality, and for what it is worth, I think I like it. A kiss where we banter around because I cannot read your cues or antics, which leads to you being unable to take my sarcastic criticism, so you choose to silence me.”

“Is that how you define ‘cute’?”

Sweetly, you continue to enrage him. “You can’t even handle it right now, can you?”

Sungchan squints, attempting to determine if the patterns  of the ‘kiss has already started’ are already there. He lets go of the tank’s glass, crosses his arms, and pouts some more before starting to pull his jacket down, giving the impression of, ‘Sure, it is on... And please, do proceed!’

Yet, refusing to take it off completely, his jacket dangles halfway down his arms. His collarbones and tee collar are in a power struggle. Numerous veins swarm his arms and biceps, screaming for your attention. 

Again, something you have seen before, but is that supposed to make it easier for you to process? And how should you focus on everything at all, appropriately? And what should you do in response when he eventually decides to purposefully bite his lip in slow motion? His sheer beauty alone is giving you headaches, not to mention all of these other details.

To turn the conversation back on track, you give him a soft smile and continue to elaborate on what, in your opinion, is the ideal kiss. 

“You want to stop me from talking because I step on so many of your nerves, and there is not much else you can do but kiss me. You want so bad to grab me and shake me, but all you manage to do is squeeze my face gently between your palms…” You make a small pause before you continue. “The seconds get progressively slower in microseconds as we stare at one another. I successfully count three of your moles while you complete a ten-count. With that, your excitement to punish me dies down. A new need emerges.”

“I imagine a kiss where you don’t even realize how tender your lips are pressed against mine. But then, I bet you don’t even realize how soft your lips are.” A unique sensuality is added to your voice as it becomes increasingly lower pitched while you speak. “Or-r are aware of the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you shut them. It is just ughh—ANYWAY, a kiss where your annoyingly long eyelashes, of which I am very jealous, tickle my cheekbones, and my lipgloss leaves sparkles on your nose. You take hold of my hands and slowly raise me up, letting me step on your toes and offering one of those smiles that you have already given me… while you are ignorant of all these tiny, lovely things about yourself, Sungchan. Is that cute enough for you?”

Your last words cause him to tilt his head back slightly, look up at the ceiling, and take a deep breath. “You are safe as long as this wall of glass keeps us separate. But nothing about anything, not even how I will treat you if you decide to move, is guaranteed. I just know that I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Is that a threat?” You raise a brow.

“Assume anything you like,” he says indifferently. “It can be a threat if that is what you want it to be.”

“Hmph,” you razz him some more, “so you are going back to being the tough guy?” as you take the initial step away from the aquarium. “Might I suggest that ‘you do not seem like the type’? Did you forget, or what?”

“You don’t know me,” he at last asserts, embracing your challenge and making a step too. 

As soon as there is nothing separating you two, dopamine levels peak.

“You do it so effortlessly, I bet.”

Sunghcan gives his lips a quick lick. “You have seen and felt it.”

You answer truthfully, “I have.”

With a notorious smile that matches his innermost feelings, he snatches you without warning and begins to drag you over the couch, which is located in a more central area of the room. His stature is so great that he carries you with your feet elevated, and your ‘let me down’ whine is met with his ‘UH HUH, you are going to have to tell me why you have invited me.’

When he finally gets you both there, he exhales and collapses back onto the couch, holding you in his arms. You are slightly leaning on him with your knees around his waist. 

Quickly adjusting to the seat, Sungchan presents an offensive sight with his head resting on the couch. You are in a situation where you would like to know how to proceed, where to look, or what else to say, but all of those things have been done before. The only thing left to do is to give yourself entirely to him.

Sungchan goes right to work without much delay. His fingers gently dip on both sides of your waist before he applies more pressure.

There is a noticeable tremble in your voice. “W-what are y-you doing?” You manage to ask despite your heart thumping frantically in your throat and feeling like it is going to choke you from his intimidating appearance and the pressure of his hands on your ribs. 

“Act my part?” He says this with such intensity that he cleverly slips one hand past your waist and runs along your backbone, taking advantage of some of the exposed skin on your back.

Feeling tense, your hands start to shake, and you are not sure where to put them other than where his head rests—at the back of the couch. Well, that seems like a safe choice, duh. Or should you touch him back in return? Should—

You truly are clueless, yet all your thoughts can be seen.

So, as you hover over him and look into his eyes, the last thing you hear is his seductive, whispery ‘Come,’ which invites you to close the distance and gives you total control over how to initiate this kiss. His hands press your body against his, and his mysterious, deep tone easily compels you. 

As the heat of the moment engulfs you both, nobody says anything. It is what you two—especially him—had been looking forward to for hours. An earlier thought that was driving him crazy was picturing you exactly as you are in his arms right now, only to find that you are even better—even beautiful—and that your skin is hotter and softer than  he had fantasized.

He suffers from the same consequences of ‘the closeness’ as you do. You can feel his heart hammering against his chest, trying to break free. His steady lashes are growing more disturbed, and his breathing is labored and drawn out. And when your warm lips finally touch his, his brain shuts down completely. Maybe he is just not used to things going slowly. You are killing him subtly now by doing that.

Actually, this whole night was just a slow, steady death. You can taste the sweetness in him even in his mouth, so you can be assured that even though he can be quick at times, there is an unquestionable sweetness to him. The sweetness that translates from the smile he lets out while kissing you. 

Of course, he is skilled at this! He slowly extends his tongue after letting his hums seep into you and the kiss grows deeper.

The sound of the kiss developing into a passionate makeout accentuates the hair at the back of your head. You are completely absorbed by him, lost. And the moment you hear his first pant in your mouth, you scoop his face into your hands. He presses harder against your back as your hands burn from the heat of his cheeks.

You moan, hot yet weak and defenseless, ‘Sung—” polonged “chan,’ meaning to say something but never managing to.

“Mhmm-” As he fills your mouth with his tongue and spreads it farther in an attempt to find more space, the tender kiss seems to turn into something bold and invasive. It quickly descends into sloppy, steamy, wet kissing. A kiss that is actually so strong that it does not matter if you drool or think it is inappropriate.

He holds your waist with one arm while pressing you down onto him, applying pressure to your nape. His jeans quickly became unbearable to be in due to the slight movement causing friction.

Then he begins kissing your jaw. Further down, the dampness of his breath clings to your throat, making you lose consciousness. If it was just his lips the first time, now there are his tongue and teeth as well. He tampers with the strap of the top with his fingers before sliding it down your shoulder. His impatience is evident as his kisses travel down your chest. You are helpless to stop him from becoming needy in his attempts to torture you; all you can do is throw back your head and hope he stays that way the entire night.

In the moment’s trance, he lays you down and hovers over you in a fit of craving. The couch starts to screech because his weight and the pressure he puts on it are too much for it. 

It is at this point that you realize how much you enjoy being placed in a vulnerable situation where you cannot think about leaving because of his arms. The more you watch him, the more attracted he becomes to you, because he can see your thought in the way you look at him. Both of you and him get turned on by it. You love how openly and compulsively possessive he is. 

And… should you love it?

Just looking at him on top of everything makes you feel fucking aroused. Thoughts of how perverse his lip mole is are all over your head. His hair gets in the way of his dazed eyes, whose brown never stops being drenched in the aquarium’s neon blue. 

If the neon fades from him, will everything end?

Feeling a bit annoyed by the question that keeps coming to mind, you find yourself embracing his torso and seeking the comfort of his weight on top of you, biting his shoulder in the process. His writhing gasps are to die for as your teeth and fingernails dig into his white shirt.

Your silent demands are met with Sungchan’s insistence that you look at him. Not to mention that it becomes harder to do that. He is not letting you look anywhere but at him, as his fingers start to lift your top and you feel them drawing damaging figures beneath your belly button, creating such an intensely carnal, gut-wrenching moment as your desires intensify. And there is this throbbing, hot, and silky feeling to your skin, which makes him want to torment you until you lose any control. 

To do that, he grabs a tender spot on your thigh to further expose you and carve out more space for himself. 

As far as clothes go, for a moment, you wish there was nothing at all between you and him. And as you shut your eyes to the idea, Sungchan plants a kiss under your ear, leaving a trail of smiles across your cheek. Oh, how well he reads you. Have faith—he shares your desire.

You too have, unconsciously, contributed to his shirt being half-rid. Squares make up most of his belly, and they end at the bottom of his low-rise jeans. Your fingers smuggle themselves against his most sensitive skin, just beneath the hem of his jeans.

His lips open up, and you try to learn the precise way he hurts by watching and absorbing every move he makes while his eyebrows tighten at your touch. If you push your hand a little further, what should you expect?

He is fiercely competitive, so he rolls his hips into you after becoming enthralled with your fleeting, tender touches.

You cover your eyes in embarrassment at this gesture, but his voice is already there, right in your ear. “Open your eyes.” 

When you shake your head silently, refusing to give in, he grabs your hands and pins them over your head. 

“Open up,” he insists. A honey-like voice turned sour. Sungchan is cruel and hard, with the strangest soft skin, a contradictory scent, and the ability to practically lick your face with his words—a lesson that teaches you to be both tough and tender as well. As a result, you gently release the held fear. Your eyes allow him to be with you without you having to say it out loud.

And although he is too shy to let it on or say it, the subsequent crushing of his hips into you speaks of ‘That is right, baby…’ The following one of ‘Nice and slow,’ and the one right after of ‘I’ll go again... and again... and—’

“Please, don’t—” you cry out. 

His lips are blazing and red is blooming all over his cheeks, but still, Sungchan resists giving in to his shyness. As an alternative, he tightens his hold on your wrists. “Mhmm. Need words.”

“D-don’t—don’t let this end; it’s-it is just too fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” He smiles, releasing your wrists, recognizing that he is actually far too touch-deprived and needs your hands on every part of his body. “You know it is true,” he whispers, stroking your lips with his thumb before your frustration overcomes you and you take in his colossal index and middle fingers in your mouth.

Yeah, you know it is true… You introduce them to your teeth and tongue before you begin to suck. 

And is he really expected to be unaffected by that? When you devour him like that? He hurts for you to suck it so much that he is now in raw pain. No succulent sip should be missed. The taste must be unimaginable in many ways.

His mouth opens with a swear word. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you would find this irresistible.”

As you never really anticipated it this far, you are not sure if you feel the same. But here he is, and here you are, acting as the situation demands, so maybe he is right. Your reciprocal relationship is akin to an electric shockwave, meeting both your needs and your own desires in equal measure. The perfect balance... found in a stranger at a party…

Sungchan decides to reach your vulnerable center, soothing you with deep, heavy, lewd kisses. You have no idea what he needs or wants or if his body is adapting to yours, but you can bet that the ‘Fuck’ he sucks into your lips is real.

“Please,” you beg, raising your hands, only to have him slam them down once more while giving you a serious look as if you might have done him more harm than good. But in reality, you are so fragile under him that you steal his heart. Tears of sweat form at his temple, and you manage to free a hand to give him long, leisurely strokes as you brush his hair out of his eyes.

He says something incoherently like ‘sorry,’ leaning in to plant another kiss while entwining his palms with yours. 

What is he sorry for?

Nothing about his behavior, not even this kiss, matches his hard, deep, grinding hips. The night’s apex remains unaffected, even though the jeans denim is impenetrable. You want to burst at the way he begins to ease up on you, circling back and forth, momentum building, building, holding your fingers intertwined while his other hand rests on your waist to keep you still while he slows down, which intensifies the pain you are experiencing.

Eventually, he looks down at you and stops whatever he is doing, breathing heavily as though he is just finished a mile. You both suffer from this entire action. Needs and thirst are put on hold by him. At last, he gathers his courage to say something, gazing at you through the same wounded eyes that were there when your attention strayed from his way earlier. “I have something to tell you.” 

You reassure him, sensing a weight in his fast blinks, “You don’t have to say it.” He is even quicker to lean his cheek into your palm when you tickle under his chin to soothe him. The touchy-feely, seeking affection he displays pushes you to emphasize what you mean more. “It’s the way you look at me.”

“Isn’t it silly?” He muses with glassy brown eyes that are blown bigger than anyone’s ability to frighten him. “Love at first sight is not something I believe in. No one should, in my opinion.”

“Then, what makes you feel the need to tell me something?”

“I—” His speech falters as he struggles to form a complete sentence before sighing and collapsing next to you onto the overly small sofa.

“Don’t,” you say while squeezing yourself smaller to make more room for him. “Then don’t. You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I am not ready to end this evening,” he fusses, using his finger to tap both of your chests to show how close you two are, “which means I also don’t want what is going on in here to end.”

“I know,”  you say with a smile as you take his hand in yours, study it, and then walk the inward lines as though determining whether the two of you have what it takes. 

He watches you as you watch his hand; if there is anything he wants to hold onto forever, it is this. There is a certain cruciality to the moment. Despite not knowing if you two are a match, you both want this to continue. And so you say, "Nor do I."

“Seriously?” he asks, raising himself up on one elbow with a shocked expression.

You continue to feel and appreciate his hand, ignoring his question. The beauty of his hands is also astounding. “Would you say this is cute?” You mention his earlier observations about cuteness. 

“You remembered.”

“I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.” You quote him, then tap twice on his nose. “Of course I remember, silly, but it is me holding your hand, not the opposite.”

With his lips heavily affected by all the heavy makeout, Sungchan pouts the biggest pout imaginable.

You draw parallels and say, “I swear, you look like my fish.”

He asks through his giggles, “Who kisses to kill?”

“Right…”

“And…” he is curious, “did it work?”

You sigh mockingly to mimic exhaustion. “A lot of death kisses, yes.”

His heavy arm presses your waist against his body while he tucks his head into your neck in response, seeking to stay.

For the rest of the night, Sunghcahn clings to you, making sure you realize that no one else can touch you or make you feel the way you do right now. Perhaps this is his greed getting the better of him when he realizes that you could have ended up this way with anyone at the party and that, should things change and you decide differently, you could be this way with someone else as early as next week. 

His stomach turns at the thought. Your presence tonight brought to light a more beautiful side to the things that had seemed perfect before, completely changing his life.  It seems he has a great deal left to accomplish and a lot more to prove… as an intruder.

Though as for tonight, it is as if two entirely distinct universes or two distinct parallel lines that had never intersected finally made contact with one another. You two are so in sync—the type of people sensitive to distance.

[An indefinite persistent dream.]

The best thing he could hope to hear next is,  “Mark me yours.” 

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

~

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

#jung sungchan #sungchan #riize #sungchan x reader #sungchan x yn #sungchan fanfic #sungchan oneshot #riize fanfic #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize x y/n #riize smut #riize you #riize fic #sungchan smut #sungchan imagines #sungchan x you #jung sungchan fanfic #riize fluff

[venusgirltarot]

What Would An Album About You Sound Like?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

Pile One

Ahhh okay this is so cute. Im going to try to explain this as best as I can, Pile 1. So this seems like a concept album. The idea of the album (not the sound but idea ya know) reminds me of “Melodrama” by Lorde. I’ll leave a quote here for a better description but it’s like a concept album about a single night

“Melodrama is described as a loose concept album that explores the theme of solitude, in the framework of a single house party with the events and moods that entail it”

The album about you is similar in the sense that it’s a “loose concept album” but it’s about the writer seeing you. It’s like you’re at this party that the songwriter is also at and they’re obsessed from the moment they lay eyes on you. You’re like this beautiful unobtainable being to them and they want to get to know you so bad but they just can’t seem to talk to you. This could also progress to a one night stand that never progresses to more because of a lack of communication to this album is going through the writer meeting you and watching you throughout the night and then goes into their regrets and what they wish they would have said to you the next day, if that makes sense.

They see you at a party and think you’re so beautiful but can’t seem to find the words to tell you that. I keep hearing “I like the way my bedsheets look on your body” from “hello!” By role model. (I believe that’s the right song but lmk if it’s wrong so I can fix it!) and I keep being reminded of this musician on TikTok “Chappell Roan” and their song “Red Wine Supernova” I think that’s similar to what this album would sound like and it also fits the aesthetic. I highly recommend you listen to this song because it fits your album so perfectly. I tried to find a lyric that resonates the best to include but they all work so well that I couldn’t choose.

Despite this entire album being about only you and just one night leading into the next morning, it’s still so diverse (I hope that makes sense) like you’d think there’s only so many songs you could write about a 12ish hour time frame and one person but this writer has endless things to say about you and the night you met them. I could see one song having a feature and it’s later in the album somewhere between tracks 7-12 or so. The aesthetic of the album is very neon lights, the dance floor on prom night after everything has died down and people are starting to go home, slow, melodramatic and just really pretty. Again, I highly recommend you check out “Red Wine Supernova” because it fits so well.

Track list:

1. Pretty

2. Blooming

3. missing you

4. Shinning Eyes

5. Dying Slow

6. Party Streamers

7. Old Fashioned (Feat. Another Artist)

8. Starlight

9. Nova’s Surprise

10. Sunset

11. morning after

12. You

Pile Two

Pile two, your album sounds like one written by Hozier, Noah Kahan or The Lumineers. It reminds me a lot of “Angela” by The Lumineers. Specifically the lyric “Angela, spent your whole life running away” and “vacancy, hotel room, lost in me, lost in you” it also reminds me of Ethel Cain in the sense that it’s a concept album about running away and starting a new life (but not as dark as ethel’s and with a much better outcome than she got. I heard “success story” it’s about leaving behind a difficult past and moving forward. There’s hope for the future in these songs, remembrance of the past and healing trauma. It’s a beautiful album with a good balance of different emotions. I could see this album coming with a short film or a series of music videos that piece together to tell a store. Similar to “III” by the Lumineers.

I keep hearing a few snippets from the deluxe version of “Stick Season” (that will be out June 9th 👀) like “Medicate meditate swear your soul to Jesus / Throw a punch fall in love give yourself a reason” or “we ain’t angry at you love, you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost” it’s such a beautiful album with so much soul and emotion.

I could see this album getting an acoustic live version that artists do sometimes like “Album, live from Wherever” you know? This album has very unique and catchy lyrics that stick with people, the type of lyrics people take and sell on things in their Etsy shop or use as a quote in their yearbook or put in their instagram bio. It almost feels like poetry. I also heard “escapism” this is the type of music that paints a picture and takes you somewhere else. This album will kind of chronologically tell a story about you moving forward and healing from trauma and finding a peaceful ending. Ending with a song like “Angelia”

Track list

1. movement

2. Adelaide’s Interlude

3. mother

4. farmhouse

5. leave me behind

6. baby blue

7. mustang

8. you’re gonna go far

9. more than this

10. peace

11. at your own pace

12. growing pains

13. at last

Pile Three

I feel like this album has a soft rock sort of sound? Like hozier with a rockier edge if that makes sense? It reminds me of the way hozier sings about love. He sings about a very deep and impactful love and his writing his like poetry and I think that’s what an album about you would sound like. I think this album could be about the writer/musician fighting feelings for you because they’re focused on career or are just concerned about the outcome of the relationship. They might have a fear of falling or something.

However, the last card I pulled was the 10 of cups so the outcome is very good. I feel like this album is coming from a reflective place like this is after yourself and your spouse have settled down and had kids or pets or whatever you would like and your partner is looking back at your relationship from the very beginning up until now and writing about it.

I keep hearing “I’m in love with an emo girl” I don’t think this is what the album will sound like but maybe that’s your aesthetic/vibe? This might just be conformation for you. I also keep hearing that Shania Twain song “you’re still the one” this is the kind of album that fans would dissect like narrow down the time you met your person and talk about every lyric and how that lyric relates to you and your relationship etc. this album talks about how devoted and in love with you your person is but also talks about the (I heard “trials and tribulations”) it took for you two to get there so it may include religious reference. Like religion by Lana Del Rey or Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift where there’s this slight aspect of religion/devotion to your partner.

You hear a lot about how you have to actively choose your partner everyday to make a long term relationship work and this album would definitely delve into that a little. It could also be produced by you and your partner’s mutual friends or people who have been there since the beginning or very early in in your relationship. I think this would be a longer album and there’s definitely 18+ songs on there 👀

Track list

1. October

2. Cosmic

3. Full Moon

4. Bourbon Street

5. She’s All Over Me

6. Starla

7. The Empress

8. Diamond Eyes

9. Find More of Me

10. Dreamscape

11. Escapades

12. Midnight

13. You’re All I Need

14. Mirror

15. Apartment 32

16. Deep End

17. Eternity

#free tarot readings #free readings #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot reader #spirituality #tarotcommunity #tarot related #paid readings #tarot #love tarot reading

[sushiwriterhere]

new rules

summary: "Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone. Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 8.5k (this got away from me sorry y'all) warnings: angst (lack of communication!), idiots pining, PiV (unprotected), oral (f receiving), hangman x phoenix (blink and u will miss it), no use of y/n.  notes: thank you to @waklman for letting me bounce ideas off you! im very nervous abt this one, i feel like its dif from my other stuff so pls pls let me know what u think! my other works are here

Friends with benefits is maybe an inaccurate way to describe what’s going on between you and Bradley. Friends? Sure, since he asked you if you were using that bench at the beach and then he’d introduced himself. With benefits? You’re not sure if they really could be classified that way.

Bradley’s almost always a perfect gentleman. 

He doesn’t ignore you in the daylight, but the two of you never talk about the way he finds himself in your bed most nights rather than not, drunk or sober. 

It had started one night when you’d turned down an invitation to go to the Hard Deck, instead choosing to do a night of self care. You’d spent too long doing your eyebrows and managed to get a sheet mask to fully cover your face for once. You lost count of how much time you spent in the shower as an indulgence, and threw on the comfiest clothing you owned. Then, you sat yourself down in front of your TV to numb your mind with some perfectly trashy reality television.

Around 11:30, your phone had rang. Picking it up and squinting at the brightness, you saw Bradley’s face grinning back at you, the picture from one of your many beach days since you’d met. 

Despite your best instincts you’d picked up. What if he was stranded? What if something had happened? You’d steeled yourself for the worst. 

Instead, Bradley had just opened with a simple, “Hey.”

“Bradley? Is everything okay?” You could hear the noise of the Hard Deck in the background, but it had been yelling and there weren’t any sirens. 

“Yeah,” His sigh had come over extra loud through the speakers, “Just uh, was just thinking about you.”

“Okay,” What the hell? You remember mouthing the words to yourself as someone on screen had thrown a drink in someone else’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hadn’t responded to your question, instead he’d just said, “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Bradley is everything–”

“I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he’d hung up with a definitive click. 

You’d stared at the dimming screen of your phone for probably almost five minutes. Surely he couldn’t have been that drunk–god, was he planning on driving? Calling him during that was probably a bad idea.

Great, leave it to Bradley to stress you the fuck out on a Friday evening when you’d been aiming for peace. You’d tried to refocus on your show, but you weren’t even paying attention to the words. 

No more than five minutes later, there had been a knock at your door. You’d stood slowly, not sure that this was actually happening. 

You’d opened the door to a Bradley with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye, leaning against the railing outside your apartment. It was only after a moment of silence that you realized you were wearing an old Navy shirt of his, loaned to you at the beach a few weeks ago. You could feel the way his eyes started at your legs and dragged up your frame, taking everything in.

“Bradley?”

He’d pushed off the railing and backed you into your apartment, letting the door swing shut behind the two of you. You’d backed into the living room til your back hit a wall, your heart in your throat. You couldn’t look away from him, not with the way he’d been crowding into your space, leaning into you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was a tone he’d never used on you before, and you remember the way your heart had hammered in your chest. 

He’d been so warm and so close, setting all of your nerve endings on fire. It wasn’t that you hadn’t realized that Bradley was attractive–the man’s whole job was to stay in shape and be clean cut. He was beautiful. But you’d kept that to yourself, afraid of crossing that line, afraid that you’d ruin something that was turning out to be one of the strongest friendships you’d had in years. 

You still feel that fear, despite all the lines that have been crossed since that moment.

The way he’d kissed you had wiped every thought from your head. His hands had slid up your thighs to grip at your waist under his shirt hanging loosely on you. His mouth had moved smoothly against yours, making you sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

By the time the two of you had made your way into your bedroom, he’d lost every piece of clothing but his briefs and his dog tags. They’d dug into your sternum as you’d pressed yourself against him, the cool metal warming quickly between the two of you. 

The way your blood had been rushing in your ears from adrenaline had drowned out the way he’d murmured to himself as he’d kissed down your body. He never did pull his shirt off you. He’d simply maintained his grip on your hips, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he’d pulled your panties down and licked desperately into you.

Your hands had gone to his hair out of reflex. He had been rocking you steadily and you think you’ll always remember how you felt when you’d realized it was because he was grinding his hips against the bedframe, so turned on from getting his mouth on you. 

He’d eaten you out like a man starved, his nose bumping into your clit as his tongue fucked you. It had been messy and loud but you hadn’t cared about the neighbors or your dignity, not with the way his fingers had finally curled into you. 

“Bradley,” You’d gasped when you finally came, back arching and fingers tightening in his hair to the point where your knuckles ached.

He’d held you through it, had let you rock your hips against his face and not complained at all. In fact, he’d seemed delighted by the way you’d let yourself just feel, pleasure wracking your body and consuming your mind in a haze.

Kissing his way up your body, he’d slid his hands under the shirt and groped you gently. You remember the way your mind had stayed cloudy and you’d floated, tethered only to the real world by the way his thumbs flicked gently at your nipples.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He’d panted into your mouth as you whined when he’d sat back slightly to kick off his briefs and hitch your thighs over his waist, “I’ve got you.”

The first time Bradley had ever slid his cock into you, you knew you’d never be the same, that you’d never be able to go back. Not when he’d kept himself hovering over you just barely, propped up on his elbow, with his lips still brushing yours and his dog tags catching in the sheen of sweat along your sternum. Not when he rocked into you inch by inch, making the world around you blur into nothingness. 

You’d let yourself fall apart under him, let yourself sink into the mattress and just take whatever he was willing to give you. He’d fucked you deeper and more gently than anyone before–to this day, you’re not even sure you can classify it as ‘fucking’, that always felt too vulgar for the way he’d brushed his lips over your cheekbones and murmured sweet nothings. 

But saying Bradley had, and still does, made love to you means trying to find something from nothing, means discerning some sort of level of connection he’s never made clear. You’re not trying to break your own heart more than you already are.

In spite of that, you can’t forget the way he’d held you like you were precious, like you were everything to him. He’d cum inside you with a guttural moan, a punched out gasp at the way you’d clenched around him. It had made you realize that was all you’d ever wanted, Bradley warm around you and inside you, him making you feel complete in a way you hadn’t known you weren’t whole before. 

He’d been a perfect gentleman when you’d both come down, easing out of you so he could clean up. He’d massaged your thighs and hips where you were sure you would’ve been aching the next morning if he hadn’t, had apologized under his breath at the fingerprints now dotying your hips. He’d thumbed at the collar of the Navy shirt where it had stayed on your frame the entire time, looking pensive but never saying anything.

You’d woken up alone the next morning, a sticky note on the bedside table reading–Had to run for work. Thanks for having me over. A messy heart and a hastily scrawled Bradley closing off the message. 

And so it went. So it goes. 

During the day, you and Bradley are the paragon of good friendship–he’ll send you memes when he gets access to his phone in between flights and lessons, you’ll pick him up after work to go to the beach. The two of you don’t talk about it–because what is there to talk about? 

No words are ever exchanged about the way that Bradley clears out a drawer for you at his place, you just find a few of the things you’d left at his place in there one day. You never give back his Navy shirt, not when you find yourself wearing it more often than not. Nothing is said about how you start picking up his favorite flavors of ice cream and his preferred brand of coffee creamer, you just make a habit of throwing them into your cart when you go to the store.

And everything is fine. It really is. You disregard the side glances from Phoenix and Bob as they see you leave with Bradley on Friday and Saturday nights, you ignore the way Hangman wiggles his eyebrows at you when Bradley insists on paying for your drinks. Just friends, is all. Just friends.

They can make their assumptions, whisper while you’re out of ear shot, but they don’t see the quiet, comfortable domesticity that you and Bradley engage in when the two of you are alone. You go back to his after beach afternoons since it’s closer to your favorite spot, and the two of you will shower (separately) and make dinner together. Sometimes you’ll sleep over if you’re working remote the next day, sometimes you’ll go home.

On weekends, Bradley picks you up in the morning, trunk holding a cooler full of drinks and snacks, and you two will go to the beach again or go on a hike. Sometimes Phoenix or Bob or the whole crew will come along, sometimes they won’t. 

Just friends. And it’s fine.

Until everything isn’t fine. 

Bradley and you have been at this for a few months now, and you can feel yourself cracking. You’re reaching out to kiss him when you do wake up together, before your brain is awake enough to stop you, reminding you that that’s not what you two do. On an outing to a boardwalk teeming with life and populated by those games you can win stuffed animals at, you resist the urge to press him against the railing of the pier and lick the taste of your shared gelato cone out of his mouth. 

When the dam finally breaks, it begins like any other night. You have a margarita and a half in you, some concoction that Phoenix insisted you try that’s actually good. Bradley’s already done a rendition of My Way at Penny’s request, but for now the jukebox is blaring some 80s hit Hangman picked out.

You can feel yourself swaying to the beat, just letting the warmth of the moment sink in as you’re surrounded by your friends, the people you love. 

“Hi,” Bradley breathes into your ear as he sidles up next to you, his arms coming to settle around your waist. You can feel his warmth through the flimsy fabric of the dress you’ve got on.

“Hi Brad,” He hates it when people call him that–lets you get away with it though. “What’cha doin’?”

“Waitin’ for you.” He leans his entire body weight against you, making you slump against the table you’re standing next to.

“Ah! Bradley, stop it.” You try to stand, but the way he’s laughing makes it hard to shake yourself from his grip, “What do you mean you’re waiting for me? I’m waiting for you.”

The grin he shoots you is electric, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, right here in the middle of the Hard Deck, with all your friends around and in Penny and Mav’s line of sight. That thought makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come home with me?” He whispers, just barely letting his voice rise above the background noise, and when you don’t respond immediately, “Or let me take you home?”

That’s all it takes, really, for you to agree. The way he’s so willing, so malleable, for you. You’re leading him out by the hand without responding to his questions, making your way to the Bronco that’s parked in the back corner of the lot. 

Bradley keeps the foolish grin on his face the entire time he drives back to your apartment. The warmth radiating from him doesn’t abate when he licks into your mouth once the two of you are inside. One of his palms rests against your heart, the other working its way up your thigh and inside your panties that are already damp. 

“You’re so good to me,” He murmurs, dipping his fingers below your waistband and brushing through your curls, feeling just how slick you are. 

All you can do is whine as he picks you up and makes his way to your bedroom. For once, he doesn’t trip or stub his toe on anything, and it somehow heightens the intensity. Normally, you and Bradley seek comedic relief of some sort, something to cut the tension and keep it from making your chest tighten in a way that feels like a warning. This time, you aren’t granted any such reprieve.

He undresses you slowly and deliberately, letting his fingertips drag lightly up your sides and over your shoulders. He shrugs his Hawaiian shirt off easily, and lets you yank his wife beater over his head without complaint. 

Then, the two of you are just staring at each other, both panting lightly. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring up at him only in your panties. Bradley’s got one hand about to pop the button of his jeans, but he’s frozen. You feel like you can’t move but also like something might be changing. 

You don’t want it to change, you don’t want to lose Bradley in more ways than one. If this is what he’s willing to give you, you don’t want this to change. 

He nearly falls over when his foot gets stuck in his jeans, and even that doesn’t break the tension. Once he’s climbing over you, enveloping you, kissing up your stomach and neck, you forget all about decorum and keeping up appearances.

The whine that echoes around the room is pathetic and high pitched, but it’s the only way you think to communicate to Bradley how bad you need him in that moment. His hips are rocking gently against yours and you want the layers gone, you need to feel him. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” And his hands are around your hips, dragging your underwear off you unceremoniously. 

Although he makes a good attempt at going down on you, you don’t let him. You dig your fingers into his shoulder and yank at his hair to keep his face level with yours and kiss him desperately.

“I want to eat you out, please?” The depth of his voice sends a shiver through you.

Normally he wouldn’t even have to ask, but you don’t want that right now. You just want to feel him inside you. 

“Need you in me, please,” You take a heaving breath before the pleading spills out of you, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

He shushes you as you scrunch your face up, not knowing how else to convey your desires in that moment, “Okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

You almost wail in protest when his fingers slide into you. You can’t figure out why you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out, why you feel so fucking needy. 

“Sweetheart you gotta let me prep you somehow, just–” 

You feel like the embarrassment might kill you when you keen at the feeling of his fingers inside you. The way you’re trying to be good, you really are, because he does have a point. Plus, you have to be fair to Bradley, this isn’t just about you. 

So you hold still, let him work his fingers in and out of you as you pant and clutch at his shoulders like a lifeline. His mouth presses against yours, works its way over your cheeks and down your throat. He sucks a mark gently into your collarbone, and you ignore the way your brain reminds you about having to cover that up for work. 

He doesn’t shut up the entire time, just keeps telling you how good you’re doing for him, how good you feel, how he’s been thinking about this all night. The world seems to go right-side up again when he pushes into you. 

You whimper at the way he rocks his hips ever so gently before pulling out. He kisses you again and again, only letting his lips leave yours so he can kiss your forehead or cheeks. The motion of his hips is a steady tempo, he keeps time with your breaths that turn into moans when you start feeling that telltale coil in your stomach. 

He runs his tongue along your teeth and you’re done for. You clench down on him and dig your nails into his skin, bucking your hips up as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. 

Bradley fucks you through it like every other time, yes, but this time there’s something about the way he stutters out a moan and his hips match the faltering rhythm as he finishes right after you. The shallow rocking of his hips continues and you try to ignore the prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. 

Something tells you that this time, you shouldn’t have let Bradley take you home. When he pulls his face back from yours and he rolls the two of you onto your sides without pulling out, he’s got this look on his face that screams unspoken words. He cups your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb without saying anything. 

The two of you are quiet as he cleans you up, as you dress yourself in another one of his shirts.

When you wake up the next morning, Bradley isn’t there. It doesn’t shock you necessarily, sometimes he stays, sometimes he has to leave to be on time for work.

What does send a terrible feeling trickling down your throat and into your stomach is the post-it, all four square inches covered in sloppy hearts. Bradley had signed his name in the bottom left corner, characteristic chicken scratch labeling it as him even if the name wasn’t enough.

This has to end.

Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone.

You last about three rings before you cave in, waiting for the sound of his voice to echo around the apartment. You’re holding your breath.

“I knocked.” Is all he says before you’re on your feet, making your way to the door.

There he is, and although you know he isn’t really drunk, you know he’s got a beer or two in him from the way he doesn’t try to hide how he looks at you. You hate the way you’re weak for him.

You’ve been caving to him more than once a week since that first night, since Bradley had knocked your world off kilter. Though you’re in bed together almost every night, whether at his place or yours, you don’t have sex nearly every time. Part of you thinks that might make it worse. It really had been fine at first, but the first morning you’d cried at the sight of that sticky note covered in hearts, you’d known you had to try and put an end to this.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” He tries, a crooked grin splitting his face as he walks toward you, but you know he doesn’t mean his words at all. 

“Bradshaw, have you been drinking?” You want to not want this, want to not want the way his gaze pins you down, the way the length of his body against yours just feel so right.

Let him being drunk and you being sober be the excuse, you beg silently. You can’t manage to force out that maybe he should go home, sleep this off in his own bed. You can’t find it in yourself to tell him to leave, to reject his advances. Watching as if outside your own body, he shuts the door behind him and walks up to you. 

Your chest aches with unconfessed feelings when he takes your face in his hands and lets his forehead rest against yours. His lips are soft and warm against yours, his mustache tickling you lightly when it brushes against your face. The whine you let out matches his soft groan, and the two of you stand there making out for a few minutes, almost as if you’re both content to just drink each other in without further motives. 

“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you,” And he’s picking you up.

You yelp at the way you’re suddenly lifted from the ground and you bury your face in his neck. You hate heights, your feet off the ground anything more than a few inches sends you spiraling in short order. But it’s Bradley who’s holding you, and some part of you knows he’d never let you fall, never let you crash into the ground. 

The way you two fall into your bed is too natural, it makes your stomach churn. His fingers find their place on your hips, around your thighs. It’s all too easy. You wish it would be a bit more awkward, that the chemistry could be imagined or false–instead you’re confronted by the way your bodies flow with one another’s all too easily. 

Again, somehow, you’re in nothing but his Navy shirt. 

Maybe I should give it back, the thought flits through your mind and you feel guilty immediately. Bradley always seems to take a special sort of pleasure from fucking you in his shirt, and you selfishly want to keep that bargaining chip, to have something that tethers him to you. If he won’t come back to press you into your sheets, then maybe he’ll come back one last time to get his shirt when this inevitably unravels. 

“Sweetheart,” He groans softly when his fingers reach the way you’re embarrassingly wet between your legs. 

It takes everything in you not to jerk back from his touch–you still don’t know how to confront the way you’re so responsive to his touch. His mere presence.

“I missed you.”

It slips out before you can stop yourself, your lips part and you breathe the words before you can do anything about it. He chooses that exact moment to dip a fingertip into your fluttering, but empty, hole, and you arch your back and moan. Instead of responding, he kisses you hungrily, all pretense gone. 

This isn’t something entirely tender, not anymore. He’s searching for something, a certain reaction, with the way he adds and then curls his fingers inside of you. He finds it when you jerk underneath him at the way he pets at that spot inside you you can never seem to reach on your own. 

He mumbles against your lips, “There you go,” As you squirm under him, the press of his fingers inside you relentless.

He works his fingers in and out of you, not taking anything in return. It’s all you can do to hold on to him and whine pitifully. Every sensation feels amplified, feels electric because it’s him. 

The two of you settle into a familiar rhythm for as long as it takes for Bradley to make you cum the first time. You’re rocking against him through the aftershocks and you can feel the way he’s hard against you through his clothes.

He’s still dressed. The realization sends a bolt of shame through you, but it doesn’t linger long. 

He’s shoving his jeans down his legs, not bothering with wiping his hand clean and you shiver at the thought that he’ll have to put them on again, you streaked across them. He makes quick work of his boxers too, and it occurs to you that he must’ve lost his shirt somewhere along the way when he presses his bare chest against your still clothed one.

“Bradley, Bradley,” You chant, “Take off my shirt.”

It’s the most demanding you’ve probably ever been with him, but he laughs at you anyways. There’s a glint in his eye as he sits up, his hard cock bobbing between his thighs. The sight of his naked form between your spread legs makes you swallow hard and your mouth water. 

“I like you in my shirt.” There’s something unsaid there, something about claims and ownership that isn’t truly possession, but a reminder of who belongs to whom regardless.

You pull it off your head in protest, and grab his wrist to drag him back down to you. You let yourself indulge in trailing a hand down the firm planes of his body down to where he’s smearing precum against your thigh. He’s heavy and pulsing in your hand and a light hiss rushes through his clenched teeth when you grip him tightly and twist with your wrist. 

“Fuck, fuck, not gonna last if you–” Bradley cuts himself off with a groan as you swipe your thumb over his head. 

It’s your turn to laugh, “You just got here.”

“Well, have you ever had sex with yourself? It’s tough out here–give a guy a break.”

The both of you dissolve into giggles at that, as you try to imagine how you would look sprawled under yourself. You can’t picture it, but the image of Bradley under or over you makes you think you might understand. 

He lines his hips up with yours once you’re both done making fools of yourself at the thought of you having sex with yourself (it reminds you of a drunk hypothetical you’d spent thirty minutes on with Hangman once–would you have sex with a clone of yourself?). 

The first push of him inside you cuts through the lighthearted mood immediately. It always shocks you how perfectly he fits inside you despite his size, how incredibly full you feel when his hips meet yours. The gentle friction of the neat curls at the base of his cock against your clit always provides a stimulation that makes your brain go fuzzy. 

The snap of his hips against yours is more intense this time, a sort of rhythm that makes you briefly think about the way the headboard might start knocking against the wall. But all thoughts, really, fly out of your head when Bradley brings a hand up to your nipples, the steady stroke of his fingers over the swell of your breasts as practiced and knowing as everything else he’s doing to you. 

All you can do is run your hands down his back, scratch your nails against his skin ever so often when he brushes against something so sweet and perfect inside you. You clench around him just to see the reaction it’ll get, and you’re rewarded with a broken groan.

“You’re not fighting fair,” He gasps, and he hitches one of your thighs up so he can press more insistently into you. 

You have a clever comeback somewhere in you–something about how you weren’t aware that the two of you were fighting, but it’s swallowed as he presses his lips into yours again. He seems absolutely intent on showing you exactly how you make him feel because the sensations of pleasure become overwhelming. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel perfect, god you’re so wet for me,” He’s rambling mindlessly, but you let it happen, clinging to any expression of emotion, any sliver of dedication in his tone that you can hold on to til the next time you find yourself in this position. 

You know he’s close when his grip on your thigh tightens forcefully and the strokes go from long and deep to slightly shorter and stunted. He’s grunting and gasping, but it’s all the best thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Come for me Bradley, I want to feel you,” And at that, he follows your orders, listens to you for once in his life. 

Everything is hazy as he keeps himself hovering over you and continues to rock his hips. You start to try and tell him he can pull out before his fingers find your clit and he dives back in to kiss you passionately. 

Bradley is a perfectionist at heart, an overachiever. You suppose it isn’t entirely ridiculous that that extends to his performance in the bedroom–he’s insistent you finish every time, and always more than him. Feeling the way he’s still warm and heavy inside you, his lips firm against yours, brings you over the edge more quickly than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you heave a shuddering gasp and let the pleasure wash over you. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, but he’s there through all of it til you feel yourself come back into your own body. 

You think he might be writing something on your skin, the way his finger loops and dips softly over your hip bone as he kisses you gently. He’s softening inside you and you can feel the mess the two of you made under your hips, except he isn’t moving, not yet at least, to rectify that situation. 

For once, you don’t push him to go clean up or scold him for another set of ruined sheets, you just let yourself bask in the moment as you imagine a world where the two of you will talk about this in the morning. You think of a timeline where this is where you end up because it’s where you’re meant to be, not because it’s something you’re choosing despite how it hurts you every time. You think of a place where Bradley is yours and you are his, wholly and completely.

Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. 

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?” You breathe into his mouth.

Bradley just hums in response, brushing his lips over yours, down your jawline and your throat. His breath comes in warm puffs over your collarbones before he pulls back.

Hands pinned above your head, you squirm under his gaze. There’s something so intense about the way he’s looking at you, but you can’t bring yourself to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it. Both of you lost your clothes somewhere on your way to the bedroom, and you’re thinking about how to persuade him to be the one to pick it all up when this is inevitably over. 

He smells like expensive cologne, and he’s got some product in his hair that made it difficult for you to brush your hands through it earlier. Plus, Phoenix had been dropping unsubtle hints earlier in the week (Hangman had affectionately called her out, a little sigh following— “You’re being such a shit stirrer.”)

“Bradley,” You try again, this time with a slight whine.

Did he seriously ditch some girl that’s probably been waiting on their date all week for this?

He responds by whispering your name back to you, the same tone undercutting the way he says it, “That doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

The urge to keep complaining rises in you but he preempts your worries by licking into your mouth when you open it. 

He presses you into the mattress, weighing you down as he kisses you languidly, as if he’s trying to taste every part of you, as if he’s trying to memorize the sounds that escape you when he does. The warmth of his body makes your mind fog, and for the time being, everything else but this goes quiet. 

Distantly, you know that in the morning, he’ll have to leave. At the very least, he’ll have to go back to his to grab his stuff for the beach, a change of clothes. It isn’t kicking him out, but watching him leave again and again has started to build this pit at the bottom of your stomach. 

It would be different, you think, if the two of you were together. Because then, him leaving wouldn’t mean much where there would be an implicit promise and understanding that he was going to come back. Every time he closed the door behind him, you swallowed the fear that that would be your final memory of him. 

You’re selfish though. And you want to focus on the feeling of his touch instead of thinking about how you may never get to have this again. 

He makes it easy. Bradley pulls his shirt off and his dog tags make a gentle clinking sound as they hit each other and then finally come to rest on his chest. He looks like a god, backlit by the setting sun coming through your windows. 

This is how you want to remember him. Smiling down at you as he dives back in to kiss you breathless, twitching when you skim your fingertips up his sides because he’s ticklish. 

He makes short work of your shirt and sleep shorts, then his jeans are discarded. He stops briefly when his fingers reach the waistband of your underwear, a silent question that you answer by lifting your hips and letting him pull them off you. 

Every time he’s between your legs, he has this reverent look on his face, and it makes your chest twist at the fact that this time is no different. He holds your thighs open gently but firmly, and he presses his face into your pussy. Then, his tongue is darting out and licking up your core, flat and wide. 

You’d asked him once, if he likes going down on you. With a gleam in his eye, Bradley had said it was second only to being inside of you. You think of that as he eats you out enthusiastically, as you bury your hands in his hair and pull. 

He slides his tongue in and out of you, curls it around your clit and sucks in a way that makes your back arch and your thighs clenched around his head. Then, he’s slipping a finger inside and fucking you slowly with it. It makes you shiver as you realize how close you are. 

“Sweetheart, fuck, you taste incredible,” He murmurs, more to himself than anything else, pulling back briefly to make eye contact and you feel the way your breath quickens at the intensity of his gaze.

It only takes a few more minutes of him licking into you, tonguing at your clit, and adding another finger before you feel that familiar swooping in your stomach, before you’re choking out his name. Your back arches so much it aches, but it’s all you can do as the pleasure is all consuming. Bradley works you through it like every other time, holding you and letting you take what you need from him.

Then, he’s on you in an instant, kissing you furiously and sliding his hardness up and down you, covering himself in your slick. It’s filthy and sloppy but neither of you seem to mind. He lets himself rut against you til you’re hooking your legs around him and digging one of your heels into his back.

“Alright, alright,” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but you know he’s more affected than his light tone lets on. 

The first push into you is always the most intense, but you suck in a deep breath that you force out through your teeth.

“I know, I know,” He croons, pressing little kisses all over your face as you adjust to him.

Bradley inches into you slowly, inch by inch. The initial stretch subsides til it’s replaced by the sweetest feeling of fullness, the way you can feel all of him. 

If there’s one thing the Navy’s good for, it’s the sheer strength Bradley possesses and has to maintain. You feel it in the way he fucks you, his back muscles rippling as you hold on for dear life. You feel it in the way his hips press into yours, shunting you slightly up the mattress.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are his hips meeting yours and the slick between the two of you. Momentarily, he pulls away from kissing you to look down to where he’s disappearing inside of you, that ring of you collecting at the base of his cock. His groan is guttural and broken. 

“Fuck, Bradley, it feels so good.”

He leans down again to kiss you sloppily, and the simple action of him burying a hand in your hair and twisting his wrist makes your heart skip a beat. He always knows exactly what you need when you need it. 

“C’mon, come for me, sweetheart, let me feel you.”

And because you’ve never been able to deny him anything, there you are, hurtling over the edge again. He’s everywhere around you, inside you, and his tongue in your mouth is the last thing you need to feel that wave crest inside of you. Bradley’s moan is deep as he feels you bare down on him and he follows you shortly after.

The moments after, when the glow is still settling and your mind is still hazy, are your favorite. Your mind is too foggy to focus on the fact that you know he’ll be leaving, but present enough to feel the way he doesn’t stop pressing kisses to your lips. You’re cognizant of how he cleans you up tenderly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thighs and hips just to watch it dimple. 

In those precious few minutes, that’s all that exists to you.

Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him. 

You’re trying to ignore him, you really are. You start going to the beach an hour earlier than you usually do, hoping that he’s maintaining his schedule. Every tall brunette jogging across the sand sends your heart into overdrive. 

You still see Bradley when you go to the Hard Deck for a drink, but you keep a respectable distance between the two of you. If Phoenix mentions a round of pool, you jump at the chance, while asking Bob and Payback if they’d like to be the opposing team. You ignore the way your heart jumps into your throat when you can feel his eyes on you. 

Every note of Great Big Balls of Fire feels like a stab in the chest, and you hold back tears of frustration when you see some girl wrap her arms around his neck and rock along with him as he belts out the lyrics. You’re a fool. 

You’ve been ignoring his calls about Saturday morning beach runs and the memes he sends during the day go unanswered except for the little reactions iPhones let you send. You suppose it’s only fair that he gets to ignore you a little bit too.

Your little charade doesn’t last long, not truly in the grand scheme of things. Bradley doesn’t put up with you skirting his advances for long–he knows what he wants and he’ll be relentless til he gets it. And right now, he’s trying to corner you. 

And you’re weak for him. You should’ve known from the start that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You can’t even now, even when you’re only getting him in pieces.

It’s not exactly your bravest moment to be hiding slightly behind Phoenix so he can’t see you (if you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?) while she stares at you with an endlessly amused expression in her eyes. She doesn’t move to expose you, though.

“What’cha doin’?” Her tone is light, but you can tell she means business. 

The two of you are friends yes, but she’s known Bradley for a million times longer. There’s some girl-girl solidarity, but if you were in her shoes, you might have a few bones to pick about potentially throwing Bradley to the wolves on this one. You wonder for a moment if he’s been talking to her about all this, but again, is there even anything to talk about?

“Just uh, trying to see where Hangman’s at?” You sound like you’re asking her a question, and she quirks an eyebrow. 

She stretches the syllables of her next word out, letting it hang in the air, “Right. Even I don’t look at Hangman with that sort of intensity.”

That’s not entirely true, but you don’t really feel like getting into a competition with Phoenix of all people, over who’s looking at whom how. 

“Sweetheart? Can we talk?” 

You’d let Phoenix distract you for just a split second, and there he is, in all his glory. Bradley is beautiful, yes, but he looks tired. His sunny’s are hanging haphazardly from a floral button down that looks like it’s maybe seen better days, and he’s got dark circles marring the perfect tone of his tanned skin. 

This time, Phoenix just side-steps you and lets Bradley into your space. 

His presence is just as affecting there, in the middle of the Hard Deck, as it was the first time you saw him on the beach. Even with how tired he looks, he’s still glowing just slightly in the evening sun.

“Hi, Bradley,” You breathe, not daring to speak louder, as if that would make the moment real. 

You can feel Phoenix’s eyes on you, the way that Bob and Payback are starting to let their attention drift to from the game of pool. This, you don’t want anyone else to be witness to. This is something between just the two of you. You don’t really need the whole world to witness your imminent heartbreak. 

“I don’t want to do this here, is my place okay?” He looks so nervous, as if you’re going to push him away. It’s funny really, what you know is about to happen, and yet he still looks like this is about to break him entirely. 

Nodding, you let him lead you out of the bar. It feels like deja vu, how however many weeks ago you were tracing these exact steps but making your way towards a very different fate. 

The two of you are silent in the Bronco, and Bradley doesn’t bother turning the radio up to belt along to the 80s classic on the radio. Everything feels like you’re underwater, like the world is out of focus. You think you might start crying, but you try and swallow it down, be an adult. 

Pulling into the driveway, it’s silent in the car when he turns the engine off. Neither of you go to get out, but you know you can’t sit here forever. This had to happen at some point, had to come to a close. That doesn’t make getting out of the car and waiting for Bradley to unlock the door any easier, though. 

You toe off your shoes and let him get you a glass of water. Then, you’re standing on opposite sides of his kitchen, the pristine shine of the countertops and appliances making him feel a thousand miles away. You two are usually tumbling in, mouths locked together, or walking in with groceries, prepared to spend a comfortable evening cooking and watching a movie. This is everything coming apart at the seams. 

“Bradley,” You start, not really knowing where you’re going, but just wanting to break the silence.

He looks distraught and your stomach drops with guilt. 

This is your fault. 

He says your name once as he settles back against a countertop, and it hangs in the air between the two of you, til he starts speaking again, “I’ve been trying to figure out where I went wrong, what lines I crossed, and I guess at some point I realized it was all of them. I shouldn't have pushed you, I shouldn’t have–”

“I thought that that was all I could have of you, so I was selfish and I took it.” You say, the words tumbling out of you before you can stop yourself from interrupting him, but still unable to tear your eyes away from him, “But I was hurting you. I still am, and god, Bradley, I’ll make it up to you somehow, I’m so sorry.”

It’s almost funny, really, the way you’ll look back on this moment a year from now and laugh at the way the two of you are talking past each other, unwilling to acknowledge that your deepest desires could be attainable. But for now, all you can feel is the guilt in your veins, your heartbeat pounding your chest. 

“What?” He’d looked at the floor for a moment, but when you finish speaking he’s looking at you intently. “What did you say?”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and start from the beginning, “I thought that you coming to me, like that, was the only way I could have you. And, and maybe it was me taking advantage because you were sometimes not super sober, but I would never–”

“I was always sober. Every time. I would never do that to you. What do you mean that was the only way you thought you could have me?” Bradley’s standing fully now, not leaning. 

“I thought you drank before, to, y’know, make it tolerable.” You regret the words as soon as you say them, “Sorry, that’s–you’re not that kind of person.”

He smiles ruefully, “I’m still focused on the part about that being the only way you could have me.”

Here it is. 

“I love you, Bradley. And not just as a friend, but more. But I didn’t want to push that on you, and so I thought–”

“You love me?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Then, he’s laughing in that hysterical way when people are so overcome, the only way it’ll escape them is if they double over in giggles. But he’s trying to compose himself as quickly as he started. 

“I tried to tell you so many times how I felt, I left you all those post-it notes, god, I thought you were seeing them and just didn’t feel the same.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“The hearts. That’s how I,” He heaves a shuddering breath, his voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s how I told my parents I loved them before I could really write. I was saying it to you every time I left.”

“You love me?” You’re crying now, and he squeezes his eyes shut til tears run down his cheeks too. 

His laugh is bitter but you know that’s not directed at you, “Was the sticky note covered in hearts not clear enough?”

You feel the way your cheeks warm and your stomach churns as you try and defend yourself, “You were thanking me for letting you sleep over?”

At that, he laughs, genuine this time, breaking the sadness that has been building in the air. Finally, he makes his way across the room to you and crowds into your space, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes are closed. 

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, a plea, and a prayer all in one. “I meant every heart, every I love you, from the very first one I left.”

“I kept them all. In my bedside table.”

Then his lips are on yours. The kiss is salty, reminding you of all the emotion that’s been building for the past few months, every moment you didn’t confess, every moment you assumed the worst, it’s all there. But you don’t want to dwell on that now, now that you’ve heard him say something plucked from your wildest dreams.

“Say it again,” You whisper when his lips leave yours ever so briefly as the two of you are stumbling to the bedroom.

And he does. As he’s undressing you, he says it. He mumbles it against your lips and into your mouth. 

He says it against your bare skin as he presses you into his bed, the sheets smelling like him before he puts on cologne. It’s muffled momentarily by the way he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, but you feel the way his jaw works anyways as you cup his face. You let your legs fall open around him and feel the way he slides his fingers into you.

When he’s pressing into you, he’s saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

In those moments between start and finish, when the world falls away and all you know is the warmth of his body against yours, the slight slick of sweat on your skin, that’s when you think you realize that he means it. The motion of his hips is deep and insistent, as if to try and leave a permanent reminder that he was there. 

You’re crying, you realize. And he’s kissing the tears away like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pressing his forehead to yours as his lips keep forming the words. At some point, you’ve started saying them back to him too, choking them out despite everything so that you know that he knows that you love him.

When you finish, it feels like a supernova exploding inside of you. It starts in the center of your body and pushes its way to your fingertips til you’re gasping for air and he fucks you through it. Bradley cums moments later, filling you with his warmth in a way that’s both familiar and still thrilling. 

He rolls gently off you, and you hiss as he slips out. That’ll be a mess to clean up. 

But he’s looking at you, brushing your sweaty hair from your face, and his eyes are shining so brightly that it feels like looking at the sun. You want to look away, but you think that losing your vision in return for staring at the way his eyes crinkle in genuine happiness is well worth the price. 

I love you, he mouths. And you believe him. 

You whisper it back.

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @genius2050 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #no use of y/n

[sanscat0414]

Words

Hawks x Depressed Reader

Warning: including Self harm so if you’re sensitive to that please don’t read this.

Note: if your experience depression and/or SH tendencies please as for help form others. Remember you are loved and appreciated.

Masterlist

‘Useless, A word that perfectly describes me’ you thoughts.

One

Two

Three

Four

Numbers you counted as you slide the blade across your thighs. Thighs that so many said was ugly. They said “you’re too fat. You should lose weight.” “You don’t deserve to be with hawks,”

Words that hit you harder than any punch. Words that give hurt to you. Nothing matters but him. Nothing matters to you more than him. You want him to be happy but you see yourself as a burden when you where the vary thing that kelp him sane. You didn’t know that.

The moment you saw that crimson feather knocking that blade away. You knew you screwed up, you let him see the last part you never wanted him to see. He stood there in shock of what infront of him. His golden eyes that always wad filled with a hope and a shine of happiness, now dull and filled with hurt and worry.

You said nothing as you just started cleaning up like nothing had happened. It was only a matter of a few moments that he would leave you, like everyone else did. To your surprise a hand gently put your actions to a halt. Hawks got on his knees not caring for the blood that was spilled, you blood. The fact that is was yours made him sick to his stomach. He held you, pushing your head gently into his chest as one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist.

“Please say something, Anything. Please don’t do this agian please.”

A man you knew to be have always worn a glided mask crumbling at the sight of you hurting yourself.

Empty . You felt empty as he held on to you desperately. He was horrified at that fact he could loose you. He didn’t want to let go. You said nothing as silence filled the room.

A moment after he let you go, he didn’t say anything but help cleaned you up. You didn’t rejected him but in your mind it only cemented that fact that you were nothing but a burden to him.

Once he finished he guide you to your shared bedroom. Once agian holding you as he desperately wanted to know why you did what you did.

“Kid, why? Why hurt yourself?” Was all he was able to say.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“YES IT DOES! You matter. Whatever made you do this to yourself.. I want to protect you from it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I love you and I don’t want to see you do that to yourself so please let me in and let me help you. Like the way you did it when my life went to hell. When I was in my darkest moment you pulled me out. So let me in.”

“You should just leave me.”

“IM NOT LEAVING YOU LIEK THIS!!” Hawks raised his voice.

This was a surprise to you no matter the argument he never raise his voice at you, not until now.

“Just leave me… like everyone else did.” You said looking away. You couldn’t face him not like this.

“I’m here now, aren’t I kid? I’m not leaving even if you pry me away. I want to protect you, I want to be someone you can lean on. What kind of hero would I be if I let my beloved hurt herself.”

You said nothing.

“Please,______ I need you. I want you. I’m not going anywhere. “ he tightened his grip on you.

You finally gathered the courage to look towards him. It was you who hurt him. Seeing the hurt In eyes made you feel guilty.

You gently patted his golden locks “I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”You look at him and gave him a small smile.

He knew all too well what your expression is. It was one he used often to cover his true feelings. One he could se straight through but Hawks didn’t understand why you were apologizing to him.

“It’s okay to not smile all the time. You can be real with me.” He said.

It was a saying all to familiar to you, words you offered as comfort when he need. Now those same words used on yourself. You dropped it after a moment, it wasn’t fair to him.

“Sometimes it’s just too much.” You said “when you feel like you don’t matter. All I am is someone’s problem. Someone useless the world doesn’t need. I’m not someone to be cried over . You shouldn’t have to worry about someone as useless, worthless and ug-“ he stopped you.

“Don’t belittle yourself like that. You’re so much more. You always bring joy to those around you. You’re kind and always thoughtful of others. You’re the most prettiest and compassionate person I know. You’re nothing close to being useless.” He said looking straight into your eyes, “whenever you have those thoughts agian, come to me. Let me show you just how great of a person you are, love. My sweet babybird.”

Your eyes widen as you hear his word. Words that had never been used to describe you so sincerely. Words that hits you like a warm ray of sunshine. Something about Hawks’s ernsty hit you hard, harder than any puncn, kick, or mean words. You couldn’t stop your own tears from flowing. Your hands raised up to grab him and hold him just as tightly as he held you. You sobbed letting all those years to frustration and self loathing out. He held you, rubbed your back and wrapped his wings around you. Shielding you from the rest of the world.

“I love you.” He said “don’t ever doubt that.”

The both of you stayed like that for a hour or so. Form then on Hawks was even more careful around you and always keeping and eye on you. Hawks never wanted to catch you like that ever again. He praise you at every chance he got, took you out went you felt down.

You started your healing with hawks, he was with you all the way.

#bnha hawks #keigo #keigo takami #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader mha #bnha hawks x reader #hawks fluff #hawks mha #bnha keigo #hawks x yn #angst to comfort #my hero academia #winged hero hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n angst #hawks #hawks x reader angst #boku no hero academia hawks

[incognito-girl]

Hey I have an idea if you don't mind. Maybe inspire on Kiera dancing an her teammates are making fun bc her dancing skills but then reader decide to teach her how to dance properly (imagine the reader are for LATAM or Spain and dances very well) (could be footballer too)

https://twitter.com/yulirat/status/1644726393199120386?t=gc9r1HHobfYWbWgEZ2LYrQ&s=19

Thank u

yours - keira walsh

Euphoria. Thats the only word you can use to describe the feeing of winning the champions league. The months of training had been worth it. Every drop of sweat, every tear had led you to this moment. When you hear the final whistle you are searching for Keira. Your Keira. Well not yours but sometimes if you stopped thinking so much you could imagine that she was yours. Every lingering touch and whisper that was for you and you only made it especially hard to stop your imagination running away from you.

She had joined barcelona a few months ago and once she saw you she was truly amazed at how someone could be so beautiful. Cameras didnt do your long full eyelashes, your lips, your perfectly carved eyebrows, your smile, your cheeks, your dimples, your freckles or your eyes justice. You were undoubtedly the most beautiful person she had ever seen in her life. If the only thing she did while at barcalona was get to know you she would’ve been absolutely fine with it.

“Y/N!” You hear shouted out from your favourite girl. You quickly turn around and run up to her to jump into her arms. You place your forehead against hers and just take in the moment with your favourite person. Your suddenly pulled away from your moment by Mapi who had jumped onto the both of you sending you tumbling onto the grass. “MARIA!” you yell out at her while standing up helping keira get to her feet before chasing her yelling at her while laughing at your friend. “TE ODIO” is the last thing she hears from you before her attention is pulled away from you by Lucy clearing her throat behind her. “Still in denial?” she asks amusement evident in her tone. “Leave it.” Keira threatened the taller girl “But im not.” she whispered while walking away from her to the rest of the team so she can celebrate, and maybe be closer to you.

“Ella es muy hermosa. Imagínanos juntos, entonces podríamos tener citas dobles.” Keira hears you whisper to Mapi. With her limited spanish knowledge all she knew you were talking about was double and imagining something. “Hi” she says quietly, not acting like herself, to the both of you. “Hola.” you and mapi say in unison you turning red at the fear of the girl infront of you knowing what you just said. “Im going to go see ingrid, bye.” mapi says sending you a wink. “Do you have the address of where were going tonight?” Keira asks urgently here eyebrows beginning to furrow. “Sí, will i send it to you?” You ask the girl who quickly thanks you as you look down at her figeting hands that are beginning to pick at the skin on them. “Dios mío keira stop that.” you say while grabbing one of her cold hands in your contrasting warm ones. You notice there was a small cut that was bleeding on her ring finger. “Keira ill get you a plaster i have one in my bag. Vamos.” you say while holding her hand and and slightly dragging her with you. Once you make it into the changing room you were both the first in there. You sit her down in your spot of the bench and look through your bag while mumbling something under your breath that keira couldn’t quite understand. “Ok i have it.” You say while holding it up as if it was a trophy. Keira just laughs at you with what Lucy described as heart eyes. You kneel down in front of her and slightly spread her legs without realising and resting your arms on her thighs. You inspect the cut very close your body weight starting to lean heavily on Keiras thighs as she tenses at the contact with you. You place the bright pink plaster on her finger with a kiss. “Ok perfecta Keeks, vamos!” you say excitedly while dragging her back to the pitch to continue the celebrations with your teammates.

“Ven aquí girls!” you hear your captain Alexia shout over to the rest of the team. “Tonight we will go out to celebrate. See you later girls.” She says authoritively to the group. “Sí captina, gracias!” you say to your friend while hanging off her side and placing a kiss to her cheek, keiras eyes followed your movements as if it would be the last time she would ever see you. “Keira!” She hears being shouted into her ear by no one but her fellow english player. “You alright keira?” Lucy asks tentatively following her gaze to you. “Fine.” she mumbles shortly to her friend. “You do realise they are just friends, right? Ale is taken anyway.” lucy says while placing a reassuring hand to her friends back. “I know but i wish i could get that type of attention from her.” Keira pulls her eyes away from you and finally looks up to her friends worried expression. Lucy pulls her smaller friend into a hug to help comfort her even though she knew deep down the only hug that could get her to stop thinking about this was yours.

Later on at the bar you were all dressed up, out of your usual tracksuits anyway, and had completely forgotten about any responsibility that you had the next day too focused on the present. The beat of the music almost shaking the room while warm bodies pressed aginst eachother due to the amount of people being there. once you arrive, you are quickly escorted to a more private room with less than half the amount of people in it. Your main goal was to find Keira. Your keira. You were looking around the room, trying not to get caught up in a conversation but soon enough Mapi had distracted you and you both ended up on the dance floor.

Unknown to you this was a plan that had been set up between Lucy and Mapi after they had told eachother about each of your feelings for the other. The plan was to have you and Mapi out dancing together, and then Lucy and Keira would join you both. After all four of you stayed together for a while Lucy and Mapi would come up with an excuse to leave you both there, alone. They just hoped everything would go how they wanted it to.

You and Mapi were dancing to whatever song was on getting lost in the beat of the music you not realising that she was slowing edging you both closer to Keira and Lucy. Once you saw the girls you let out a squel of excitement and drag Mapi over to them. “Hola chicas!” you yell happily at the girls infront of you. “Hey!” they say in unison laughing sightly at your excitement as the four of you continue dancing you suddenly hear a yell of “Woah keira whipped out the best moves tonight!” in reference to the english girls awkward dancing while she was next to you. Your head snaps towards her wanting to see exactly what she was doing. But instead you were greeted with a red faced girl standing rigidity beside you looking down at her feet. “Woah walsh forgot how good you are at dancing!” You hear ingrid say to her while wrapping an arm around her shoulder as you all begin to laugh at her, her blush growing darker by the second. Mapi quickly goes over to ingrid and removes her arm from around Keira. “Vamos Ingrid, deja a la chica en paz. ¿Recuerdas el plano?” You hear her say to her girlfriend. “Shit, sí. Lo siento Mapi.” she replies quickly. “¿Que plano Maps?” you question the girl slightly approaching the two. “dejarnos solos.” mapi says jokingly to you while pushing you backwards making you stumble into who would guess, Keira. You turn yourself into her and look up at her slightly flushed face through your eyelashes. “Hola guapa.” you say softly to the girl loving being close to her. “Hi” she breathes out. “Let me see your dance moves Keira.” You say laughing slightly as keira puts her head into her hands becoming embarrassed once again. “Come on let me teach you bebe.” You say while placing your hands on her hips a sudden wave of confidence taking over your body. “Y/n where do i put my hands?” she asks shyly. “aquí mismo.” you say under your breath while placing her hands on your shoulders. “Perfecta, keira. Move your hips more. Your too tense.” You say while eyeing her body up and down. You pulled her flush into your body and move her hips in time with yours with your hands. You keep her flush against you so your bodies move in sync with eachothers as you feel her move her hands from your shoulders to your waist. You place your head against her chest tucking it under her chin as your hands go around her neck. You pull away from her after a few minutes keeping close to her. “¿estas bien?” You whisper to the girl that was looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite read. “Im good, really good y/n. Can i tell you a secret?” she whispers back to you. “Sí. you can tell me anything.” “I think i have a crush on someone.” she says moving ever so slightly closer to you. “¿quién es?” you question the girl returning the action of moving closer to her. “i think you know who.” she replies cockiness evident in her tone. “i think so.” you say while closing the the small space between you.

It was everything you would ever wish for and more from a kiss with the english girl. Her arms fell further down onto your ass as she pushes her hips into yours. Your hand cups her cheek and lightly strokes it. The other pushes her closer to you by her neck deepening the kiss. Her tongue touches against your soft lips asking for entrance, you grant her it as her tongue begins to explore your mouth with a passion you had never once experienced before.

You regretfully pull away from her once the lack of air became a problem. “So who is the girl?” you ask her with a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you place your forehead against hers.

You pull away when you both realised you had spent at least half an hour just standing in the middle of a big group of people in eachothers presence whispering sweet nothings to eachother. She grabs your hand as you both walk over to the rest of the team that had been talking about the pair of you getting together since keira came to barcelona. “Hi girls!” Keira says to the group now the more confident one as you grip her bicep standing slightly behind her. “hello lovergirls!” Lucy yells out to the pair of you as a crimson colour takes over both of your faces. “Im so glad our plan worked Lucy!” you hear mapi yell out. “Mapi! You little liar, you said there was no plan! te odio!” you yell as she starts to run away from your angry glare at her as you begin to follow her yelling something in spanish after her. Keira just watches the scene, that occurred far too often, with adoration for the small spanish girl that she saw chase Mapi around at least once a day.

Soon enough you walk back over to keira and place your arms around her waist as she was facing away from you. “Hola.” you say to her. “hi” she says turning around to face you. “estoy tan feliz soy tuyo.” “what?” she asks her limited spanish knowledge showing. “Learn spanish and then you will know mi amor.” you say while cupping her face and lean in for another perfect kiss.

no cause i genuinely hate this sm the idea was so good i just couldnt write it and i had to rewrite about five times

#woso soccer #woso one shot #woso x reader #lionesses #woso imagine #woso fanfics #keira walsh #barcelona #fcb femeni #fc barça #fcb femení #fc barcelona

[charliemwrites]

i LOVE ur kept! reader series!! feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer, but how do you think each keeper would react to their respective captive eloping? when they eventually find them, they're disassociating and just off. by disassociating i mean that he isn't fully in his body, in the present moment, distanced and disconnected from his feelings and thoughts. i like to describe it as feeling like you're playing a first person video game.

*psa i am using masc terms bc im trans masc, same thing just with diff names and terms

like, maybe they get really pissed at them, to the point where it's genuinely terrifying to poor feral/good boy/shy thing so my guy just dips

he just runs, and he can't get far, obviously, but he can still put distance between them, maybe he finds a spot in the yard or in a closet somewhere that he feels safe(ish) in. he stops crying, and it's like, WAYY too quiet.

by the time his keeper finds him, he's perfectly calm. doesn't seem to even react to being found. staring at some spot on the ground, or something in the background, or staring right through simon/price/soap. it's like they're not even there. doesn't respond to anything.

do you think they'd be freaked out, or would they know what disassociation is? how would they try to get him to be present and back in the moment, in his body?

Hi, bean!! All good with the changed pronouns/names/nicknames.

(Discussions of dissociation and ways to manage it ahead. It’s from an outside perspective but please please be safe and careful. This is based on things that have helped me, friends, or family in the past)

Each keeper would def have their own methods of handling a dissociating pet and trying get them back into awareness.

Simon would recognize all the signs, knows personally what it feels like and what Feral is going through. He would guide him out and back home, sit him in an extra hot (but not too hot) bath. Food would be next, even if Feral doesn’t eat much of it. He would hope that things would be better after a long sleep. If not, he has a whole list of things that’s helped him in the past to try to get Feral back in the moment - and of course would apologize if he was the cause. He also is aware that sometimes there’s no “fixing” it and just waiting for him to drift back on his own.

Johnny, I think, would recognize someone dissociating. He’s a soldier - even if he hasn’t experienced it himself (which I’m not sold that he hasn’t , but let’s say that’s the case) he’s had teammates and seen hostages that dissociate. He’d get tripped up on helping Shy Thing. I could see him calling Simon for help - and if not that, turning to good ol’ Google. The method that I think he would land on, and work best for him, would be wrapping himself around Shy Thing and making him squeeze ice in his hands. The minute he mentions something about it being cold, Johnny’s taking him to shower together, then lying in bed with them to watch stuff, hoping that eventually Shy Thing will point out on his own that he’s hungry.

A bit like Simon, Price would know what’s going on and how to handle it, but he’d be beside himself if it’s his fault his spirited Good Boy is dissociating. He would massage Good Boy’s body top to bottom (or bottom to top) and - if that didn’t work as well as he hoped - try feeding him sour candies or ice cream. The tension in his chest would only release once they started livening up again.

#asks #thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #keeper/kept au #fanfiction #keeper ghost #dark fic #keeper johnny #keeper price

[kazucafe]

genshin men & how they kiss you <3

characters: kazuha, xiao, zhongli, & thoma x gn!reader genre: fluff / warnings: none note: i posted this on an old account and i deleted it so im reposting it now hehe i hope you enjoy reading! likes and reblogs would be deeply appreciated >.>

✦ kaedehara kazuha.

his kisses are sensual and soft. he takes it slowly as if to savor the feel of you in his arms. if you have even a little sense of clarity remaining amidst the kiss (which i doubt), you would feel his lips curl up lightly. once he pulls away, he'll take time to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear and get dazed at the sight of you.

✦ xiao.

he is careful with his every touch, afraid he would accidentally hurt you. he's too flustered to move flowingly (his heart never seems to calm down and he doesn't know what to do with it), so it would do him a favor if you took the lead. once he eases up a bit more, he shyly pecks your cheeks and the tip of your nose, the gesture causing a wild rosy tint to burn his skin up to his ears.

✦ zhongli.

he is a gentleman through and through. he usually plants kisses on your forehead (kisses on the lips are reserved for when you two are alone), cupping your cheek with one hand and intertwining your fingers with the other. if there's one word to describe the feeling of his affection, it's calm. to him, in this very moment, the seas aren't raging, the winds aren't howling — there is only you.

✦ thoma.

of all the things he is capable of doing so perfectly, he's endearingly clumsy when it comes to you — not 'constantly messes up' clumsy, but 'all over the place' clumsy (he's still learning, go easy on him). you can expect a lot of giggles in between kisses and hands caressing your hair and cheeks.

#[ ✒️ ] — my works. #genshin impact #genshin fluff #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #thoma x reader #fluff

[notedchampagne]

Your TLT propaganda worked perfectly, especially the "what's it even about" post that mentioned the Houses being planets ((I've always imagined it as more of a high fantasy setting and the whiplash I got from the sheer genre change broke down the last bit of hesitation I had)).

I've finally read GtN and yeah. I get it now. This is absolutely one of those novels that'll permanently rewire your entire brain if read at the right moment in your life. I've burned through the entire thing in a single six-hour session and I immediately thereafter ordered the other two novels.

Also, it is always really fun to finally watch/read a piece of media you've absorbed like. Passive Fandom Radiation from for ages because everysooften someone will mention something in passing and it just makes So Much you've heard about click into place all at once. It's like you've been listening in to experts in an art gallery through a thin wall, having no idea what they're talking about, and now you've broken in after hours, the room is pitch black and you have nothing but the smallest of lights, and each step takes you closer to being able to make out the vague shape of the sculpture on the dias at the far end of the room.

im so happy you liked it!!! the second gtn hit for me it was like a downhill slope and baby im currently getting. intense roadburn. it plagues me night and day. when you finish the other 2 books id love to know what you think i get so much joy recommending this series to other people and learning its a hit

i also love the way you described getting into media youve heard about passively its so real to me!! i like going into things blind but the little reviews people say help guide me somewhat since i tend to branch off on 55 impressions of what i watch/read before settling into a finalized conclusion. i like seeing what other people think and how our perspectives clash depending on how we read and interpret things and the commonality between them

#talking back #tlt

[iwanttofuckereh69]

now reading 2ha vol 2

ch 55 - 71

… but the careless thought would fly through his mind and soon be lost, like the drizzle of rain falling into a deep pond.

Mo Ran’s entire existence put into words perfectly

1. now im sad 😭

Ahhh the way Shi Mei’s death is described is gut wrenching. I was so sad reading that. But yeah, at least there are more details to what happened. It seems like Chu Wanning couldn’t do anything to save him that day. Or rather, he had to choose. I feel like if he tried saving Shi Mei, he wouldn’t hold the barrier. So he chose, faithful to his principles. It ties to Chu Xun’s sacrifice that seems to be supposed to show how hard of a decision it must have been both on Chu Xun and Chu Wanning. My guess is Mo Ran either didn’t realize at the time that CWN had to choose one over the other or he couldn’t understand why he would sacrifice his disciple to protect all those people he himself doesn’t care about. 

But damn that description hurt. Mo Ran’s heart was truly aching. And that comparison to a snowflake, equally beautiful and equally unimportant. Ehh

@thegreymoon if this is "moderate and usual amount of suffering" then i dont know if i want to continue!!!!

(jk, i like when it hurts 🙂)

2. Chu Wanning is even more awkward than i was in high school which should be considered an achievement

Tbh I like moments of Mo Ran’s longing for Chu Wanning. And how he reacts when he sees Chu Wanning finally after all this time CWN spend “in seclusion”. Its lovely, but also hes so dumb for not realizing. This whole whatever was going on between them during New Years Eve celebration was just lovely but also so awkward. Chu Wanning deliberately giving him a copper coin dumpling? Absolutely cute. But also so awkward and just 😬 Instead of finding thousands of weird ways to flirt maybe just tell him? Idk its an outrageous idea, but idk give it a try maybe?? And omg that awkward moment when he wanted to invite mo ran to watch fireworks but… yeah. I felt it in my bones. 

3. Breaking news, Mo Ran, despite being 32 yo in 16 yo body mentally somehow ended up being 5

Sometimes it feels to me as if mo ran desired CWN not as a person but as an object. And he is even comparing him to an ugly box that nobody wanted with perfectly fine food inside. An ugly box only he himself dared to open to discover the treasure inside. And he is so childishly jealous when now that box is on display for everyone to look at. Its almost silly. But also yeah, its another time he treats CWN more like a thing he owns. And nobody else should see any worth in that thing, because its only his to consume. There is a fine expression in my native language for a person like that, and funny enough, its also dog related. But I couldn't find any translation that would convey all the nuisance. It’s for a person that won’t let anyone else enjoy a thing even if they themselves have no intention of enjoying that thing either. It reminded me of this quote:

Eventually, like a beast, he had known only one thing: that Chu Wanning was his. Even if he didn’t care for Chu Wanning, he was still his to sunder and to ruin. 

And like… Right now, Mo Ran seems to me like an annoying jealous kid that wants CWN for himself out of pure spite. Because CWN never gave MR attention he thought he was owed or that he deserved. I want to punch him just a bit.

4. Shi Mei is totally Chu Wanning’s wingman

Like he always tries to show Mo Ran that CWN isnt all that bad XD And I won’t believe he didn’t realize after all those completely awkward confessions and random hand holdings that Mo Ran has feelings for him. Like I won’t believe he wouldn’t see right through him especially on that boat. And I think he is smarter than MR and saw that CWN isn’t indifferent to Mo Ran after all. I want to say he would be happy if they’d get together but BASED ON COMMUNITY’S REACTIONS i feel like i will look like a clown lol. But oh well thats my very biased impression of Shi Mei. 

@rosemary-screams

Never back down never what? NEVER GIVE UP!

Also it dawned on me while reading that you’re totally right @02cm, Mo Ran totally is wasting his chances with Shi Mei. I mean it happened before but that boat scene striked me as so annoyingly obvious. Like, he knows Shi Mei dies after he gets back from that “summer camp” in peach blossom springs. Its not gonna be long till that day and he can’t be sure it won’t happen again. And he is waiting around, unable to express his feelings that he was supposed to be so sure of. Is it… perhaps… a live showcase of Mo Ran’s only two brain cells almost connecting? Almost! Not quite there yet, but we’re on the right path. 

5. This book makes me feel disdain towards the characters and then feel bad for them in the matter of chapters njnjgviuvnjuigi im not well

I'm so heartbroken with the story of how Mo Ran was punished when he tried to steal the haitang flower for Chu Wanning because he had a crush on him. And CWN never let him speak and explain himself and punished him instead. I mean it’s kinda understandable but it makes me sad knowing that MR had such pure intentions... Also, that bedtime story about ox… Mo Ran sees himself in that boy? Because it seems like he always took the beatings no matter if he deserved it and nobody was kind enough to actually listen? And it seems like it will happen again now that he's being framed for murder.

6. Me when MR gave Xia Sini butterfly hair clip and made his hair:

THIS HAS NO REASON TO BE SO CUTE. Also i'm actually enjoying that smol Chu Wanning arc despite being weirded out at first. It gave CWN opportunity to be more relaxed around MR and the rest. And just like he can enjoy sweets as much as he wants without having to worry about losing his face, he can also just chill a bit because oh boy, my guy needed it so much

7. Someone really dislikes Mo Ran and is actively plotting his demise (which im not even surprised with). It’s either someone he already managed to wrong after reincarnating or someone of those many, many people he offended in his past life that somehow also got reincarnated into the past. What are the odds?!

Also, if Chu Wanning and Chu Xun are related (rather closely given how they look alike) and Chu Xun died and Chu Lan died and it seemed like there wasn’t anyone left out of their bloodline… how. Also what’s the self sacrifice gene because it clearly runs in this family. 

#2ha #erha #2ha spoilers #the husky and his white cat shizun #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #now reading: 2ha #once again thank you for reading!

[khaotic-neutrxl]

Am I the only one who thinks Vi's zodiac chart has a big is Virgo placement?

I mean, she's very earth-sign and fire-sign oriented in her approach to things as a character. Definitely has an Aries placement, that's why she's fierce, reckless, headstrong, etc. Confirmed to have a Taurus placement. I just see that a lot of those earthy traits she has can also be attributed to Virgo, ex:

- Hardworking

- Observant

- Logical

- Serious

- Straight to the point

- Stubborn

- Responsible

- Critical

- Patient (like with Powder in the beginning, and Jinx when she finds her)

- Frustrated easily

- Worried (thought about Powder all through prison, wanted her to stay home to be away from possible harm)

- Sarcastic, Dry Humor

But some BIG ones that stick out to me are need for organization and perfection. I know AT FIRST Vi seems like the type of person to not give that much of a shit, not that uptight, not that organized in the sense of having a perfect decluttered room and classy appearance. But I am talking about in her CHARACTER, what drives her approach in situations a lot.

She is organized in the way that she plans things out, like missions---like how she is observant with getting information, planning out a route, organizing a team with members having certain tasks, etc.

She may not be looking for perfection in the general face-value sense, but with her duties she really plans things to go perfectly, albeit mentally or when organizing a team. She wants things to go smoothly, as she planned, and has criticisms when things don't go accordingly. Not necessary a bad thing, like when she told Mylo to stop complaining.

Also, I like that a in the show she's given this serpent-esque look a lot. Which in the Chinese zodiac is synonymous with Taurus, very earthy and sharp. Which Vi can be. But she's also alluring---charming almost everybody, having lots look up to her. Which is a very Virgo thing to me. Keeping up a perfect front, having a sense of gifted skill surrounding them that screams all-in-order, a reliable person worth recognition.

^ me whenever marcus is on screen

Also, a huge part of the show surrounds communication. This is important!

Well, it is to me at least because the planetary ruler of Virgo is Mercury, the planet of communication. And a huge part of Vi's character was communicating something to someone that changed their life, for better or worse, and trying to fix that.

Nicknames are a big thing for Virgos. Not necessarily only as a bad thing, more as a way to describe something in its entirety, briefly, in one word. A way to communicate a bigger meaning, whether it be criticism or love for someone, with strength in their words. Straight to the point, practical. Sometimes fatal.

Because of their mentally analytical behavior, they tend to judge before they love/trust something. Like, think when Vi first was with Caitlyn. Sharp responses and quick judgements, assessing her as a person before coming to trust and accept her. Contrast with Powder, who latched onto Silco, this stranger, the moment she saw him.

But also, like, IM SORRY, but Vi just straight up communicating this so straightforward just SOLD it for me...LIKE CMON VI THE NICKNAME TOOOOO

Also the symbol of Virgo is the Virgin and if that doesn't make this scene of her seeing Caitlyn being all fruity pop in your head...

LMAOOOOO pls

And just to top it all off to traumatize ppl for funsies, Silco telling Jinx Powder all she ever probably wanted to hear from Vi, knowing she had a sorts of expectations for perfection put on her passively, just stabs me in the heart everytime...

I'm going to end it allLLLLLLL

anyways that concludes my TED talk if you made it to this point congratulations you have survived my autism XOXO 😋✌️

#arcane show #overanalyzing #overanalysis #sorry forgive me #the demons made me #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #silco arcane #arcane silco #these bitches gay #good for them #sobbing on the floor #vi = VIrgo ⁉️⁉️ #🐓 #YALL THE CHINESE ZODIAC FOR VIRGO IS ROOSTER #they're twinsies #LMFAOOOO #😭😭😭 #jus kidding i love u vi #arcane fandom #gay gay gay #gonna implode #arcane season 2 #zodiacs #arcane zodiacs #zodiac signs

[mamasturn]

forever yours.

pairing: ep (2022) x black!fem!oc (unnamed, no vivid descriptions)

content: he wants to know if he is hers and and if she is is.

warning: none.

note: literally thought i wasn't going to write. i'll always write lol. it's just going to be at a slower pace. anyway this was my older writing style and im trying to get back into it, so excuse if it's not all that great! please reblog and like <3

“Why should I accept your advances, Mr. Presley?”

He could’ve laughed at her question. A chortle of disbelief, a chuckle of shock, a howl of confusion. He pressed his lips together in a thin line as his mind turned like train-wheels, rapid and consistent. 

It would’ve embarrassed her, the answer he would’ve provided. He could already picture her eyebrows reaching her forehead and the deep frown lines that would etch into her skin. Her jaw would fall slack and her lips would form a perfectly shaped “O” as a gasp of horror crept from her throat. He’d look at her unbothered, just as unbothered as she took him to be at the moment. 

He only wished she’d shield her mind opinions from the outside influences that didn’t matter. No, they didn’t matter at all. The outside world had no clue what they’d gone through, what he wanted to go through with her. 

He slipped into a state of reminiscence. To the first time he took her as his own. The way she clung to him like a child, singing his praises as he loved her into oblivion. How she whimpered sweet nothings into his ear and encouraged him to keep making her feel good. How they exchanged I love you’s when their tango of love ended, and stared at each other like lovesick teenagers until sleep clouded their sight. 

He wanted more experiences with her. To take her to a beach where she’d run while and collect seashells while digging her feet into the sand. To move her into his home and make it theirs. To put not one, but two rings on her finger so they’d share a last name and a legacy. It all could’ve been possible, if she just said yes. If she pushed her ego to the side, if she trampled fear into submission to her authority and simply said yes to the possibility of something beautiful. He’d be the handyman of it all. She just had to be willing to receive. 

She awaited his answer. Her patience began to wear thinner than the pins that held her outfit together. “Are you gonna give me an answer?” 

He nodded slowly and took a step toward her. Her hand shot up and took rest against his chest. Her fingers clutched his black lace shirt and her nails were caught between the stitches, gazing his hot skin with every breath he took. 

“Because,” he began. He dropped his head and let his lips ghost over the shell of her ear. She shuddered. His free hand cupped her back to keep her upright against him. With each swipe of his lips against her ear, she broke down. Clenched fists, soft mewls, and fluttered eyelids. It was impossible to resist him—she knew it, yet kept trying it. “I am the only man whose put in the effort to even make advances toward you. But if you don’ want me, I won’ force you to have me.” 

“Baby…” she whispered lowly. One by one the walls of her fortress fell at his feet.

“So I’ll ask you again,” he started. His left hand caressed her body in ways only he knew she enjoyed. Down her back, across her bottom, and resting along her hip. “Are you gon’ be mine for real or am I gon’ have to step back?” Actions followed his words. He began to peel away from her however he didn’t make it more than an inch before he was thrust back against her. A smirk crept onto his full lips. 

She tilted her head to meet his lips. Their mouths danced together with uncoordinated choreography. Organised chaos, if one could describe it. She clutched onto his white jacket like she never wanted him to go, like she’d be terrified if he tried. Her lips parted and she spoke into his mouth, “I’ll always be yours.”

#black authors #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler #austin butler x black reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler fic #austin!elvis x black!reader #writers and authors #support black authors #support black writers #mamasturn #austin butler smut

[onmy1989shit]

My top 13 Taylor songs and why

If you do look through all of this id love to know what you think!

13. Welcome To New York

it's no surprise that I absolutely ADORE 1989 and WTNY is an amazing opening track for the album! I have always had an attachment to this song and it's a go to hype song you just can't not be happy listening to this song! also being bi I love the "you can love who you love boys and boys and girls and girls" line!!

12. illicit affairs

now don't attack me but folklore is not an album I love but for some reason illicit affairs has always had a soft spot in my heart since the album came out! I think this is one of the BEST showcases of her songwriting abilities it is like an elevated version of August and I love it! ive personally never been the other person in a relationship but Taylor does such a good job at detailing and walking you through a story of being another woman to someone you love! AND THE BRIDGE??? ICONIC!!!

11. Midnight Rain

I am a sucker for vocoder so i have been and still am obsessed with how the chorus is done on this album! there aren't many songs out there about being the one to do the breaking up with but Taylor has 2 and I love both this and back to december but this one just barely beat it out! I love her looking back on a love she may have regretted but in the end they both got what they wanted she got a big name and he got a family!

10. New Romantics

hey look another 1989 song! (and not the last) the production, the lyrics, the vocal effects, the adlibs, the vocals everything about this song is pure pop perfection! this song reminds me of Halsey's new Americana of how it's a song about just embracing everything about yourself and the people around you! and come on tell me "heartbreak is the national anthem and we sing it proudly" doesn't describe most swifties

9. Christmases When You Were Mine

an underrated MASTERPIECE by Ms Taylor Alison Swift! i fully believe if this song was on an album and not just the Christmas ep it would get so much more love cause she deserves it!! im the kind of person that loves a good sad Christmas song (my fav being Christmas makes me cry by Kacey Musgraves) and this one never fails to make me cry! the song perfectly describes the feelings of the first Christmas away from your ex and how off the happiest time of year can be

8. False God

now on the complete opposite spectrum of that we have one of the few times Taylor was feeling spicy! I love all of her songs like this dress, I think he knows, cruel summer are all bangers but this one is just another level! the way this song perfectly blends jazz, r&b, and pop into a soft sultry song about a love so good you worship it like a false god! I also think this song does such a good job of showing a rollercoaster relationship but in the end you're still there for each other! the line "I know heaven's a thing I go there when you touch me, honey hell is when I fight with you" is just perfect

7. Our Song

our song is just THE country Taylor song! I don't really have anything deep to say about this one lol it's just a fun catchy song that if you don't like it there is something seriously wrong with you!

6. Coney Island ft. The National

now I'll be honest I still don't completely understand what this song is about but ill say kinda what I believe it is! I've always thought of this song as being about the guy dies leaving coney island so this place holds a spot in the girls heart and the national plays the guy in his final moments and all he can think about is her in coney island before he left.

5. All You Had To Do Was Stay

THE BEST TRACK 5 FIGHT ME!! also this isn't the last 1989 song on this list 💀 this song to me is a perfect showcase of her songwriting abilities and ability to make a catchy af pop song! this to me is one of those sad lyrics and happy production songs being about her taking to an ex that wants her back and saying you know all you had to do was stay and that she's the kind of person that once you leave you leave!

4. Love Story (Taylor's Version)

if this song is not in your top you're lying to yourself! i don't even know what to say about this song that hasn't been said a billion times! it's lyrics, the production, THE MUSIC VIDEO! everything is top tier when it comes to this song and it's popular for a reason! the Taylor's version is literally my most streamed song by any artist 💀

3. New Years Day

this is a beautiful love song and a perfect closer for the reputation album! and her performance of this song on Jimmy Fallon is like ingrained in my head permanently! it is such a beautiful metaphor of I'll be here for the party and all the glam in your life but I'll still be there for the ugly and the clean up after aka new years day!

2. How You Get The Girl

this song kinda reminds of her country style of writing cause it very much still follows the repeating chorus but the verses build on each other to keep telling this story of Taylor telling this guy exactly how to get her back! I think this song is an interesting contrast to ayhtdws where there she said once you leave you're gone so maybe whoever this song about is someone she'd be willing to take 2nd chance on if he did it right!

1. Tied Together With A Smile

not to be emotional but this song got me through so much in middle school and high school cause I had to be the "therapy friend" the one who always had a smile on my face and this song helped remind me that yk it's ok to come undone let others know your problems! listening to it also makes me feel like someone understands what I'm going through and is like patting me on the back saying it's gonna be ok!

I hope you enjoyed this thread I had fun going through and thinking about all my favorite Taylor songs!!

#taylor swift #welcome to new york #illicit affairs #midnight rain #new romantics #false god #Christmases when you were mine #our song #coney island #the national #all you had to do was stay #ayhtdws #love story #new years day #how you get the girl #tied together with a smile

[seancamerons]

1, 13, 21, 24 & 28

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

I tried to write more often in the past year, 2023 period. i think it turned out better because I've been more motivated to do better and write more. I'm more determined than ever to write the content I want to see or wanna see done differently. probably yes, i will continue the trend in 2024. it'll always be degrassi, i rarely get ideas for other shows.

-I answered 13 previously. -

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

This is a small snippet I liked writing from Faking it.

"I don't know, we never talked about that. Like what do you mean?" Sean sighed, "I was like Mr. Hero in the newspapers but I didn't feel like I was any of that."

"The truth is just that it was and it was a reality I didn't want to live in. I just hope if there ever was some weird alternate universe it didn't happen to me."

"I feel guilty I wasn't forthcoming, it was obviously a hard time but I didn't really know what you were going through."

"I'll be honest for the first time and the last time.

Putting in a read-more cut right here!

I didn't talk to Sauve, in fact, I don't think I talked to anyone at all about it. After the shooting, at first, I was just really sad. What I mistook for sadness was this feeling of numbness all over my body. When I wasn't feeling numb, I felt guilty about what my role was and I had a lot of time to think about that part, a lot of time. Time seemed to pass by so fast, I had awful nightmares things didn't turn the way they did so I was hardly sleeping. All the while, in the months afterward, my grades were abysmal. My social life faltered, shutting nearly everyone out even close friends. After that, I went through the motions that I was okay, like fake it 'till you make it. I just wasn't and I wasn't making it. It was probably more than obvious. It took a while for the images to escape my head, the thoughts that ran through me at that very moment. How many nights I wished I was simply gone so I wouldn't see it anymore kind of level of depression. Finally though, when I did feel fine though, everybody just wanted me to show it and that's where I struggled. So I just stuffed it and pretended and now I guess I'll be okay but it takes took time to get to that place. I'm not proud though because it can always come back."

She let out a slight chuckle bringing them back to the reality of their situation, "I guess you can say I'm a good actress." She became essentially a walking, living breathing shell of what or who she was. Nowadays and back then she was lost and not making the decisions or moves she'd typically make. She didn't know who she was anymore. "So yeah, to answer your question, it was hard."

Sean was saddened by this, "It's not funny though. It's serious."

"Did I say it wasn't serious?

"No," He answered downcast before he asked his friend beside him who had just confessed so much about her inner feelings. "Em, why didn't you talk to me?"

She blurted in defense, "I did," and then added, "I am."

"I meant like over the summer, last year I was a call or an IM away. You made it seem like you were perfectly fine and okay. We're friends, and friends talk." Sean uncomfortably lamented out loud. "You were like a goal to be, I wanted to be fine like you were or how I believed how you led me to believe or whatever."

"I didn't want you or anyone to see me like that." Emma remarked bitterly in a hushed tone, "pathetic o-or weak."

They stopped walking, and Sean faced her and softly told her, "You're not though, you're not any of that you hear me? You're strong, stronger than I wish I was. You always were to me."

The words fell freely as Emma found the words ever so easy to describe and quantify her thoughts for Sean. To see why she kept it to herself up until that moment she was never this honest about what she had gone through. "Even the strong have their moments, deep down we're not that different and even the best people struggle. It's not the end of everything in the entire world if that makes sense. It's something I wish I knew then and struggle with it now. Sean, you're one of the strongest people I know. Seeing you get the help you needed is something very brave and also important. I don't know what I'd do if something bad were to happen to you again. I feared what you'd do if something bad ever happened to you. Heck, I never thought I'd ever see you again as if you were gone forever."

"Forever is a long time, Em. You know, I couldn't stay away forever, is that why you looked back? I always wondered why, why did you look back?"

"Because I, I don't know."

"There's gotta be a reason."

"Albeit a stupid one."

"No, tell me. That's just avoidance, no secrets remember? I can handle it."

"Not sure you can but here goes, because, well there are lots of reasons. I thought it was goodbye for good. Sean, you're the only one who ever would be able to silently sit there and without any words or explanation know what I was feeling you know, about what we went through, and in one swoop or in this case, one drive by you was gone."

Losing support in Sean, or so she thought was support, they had just gotten on a good speaking path, the apology meant a lot and was one of the reasons she took the shooting hard. Toby avoided Emma after, almost blaming her for being the straw that broke Rick. Sean simply was gone to her. "We were supposed to be there for each other, friends do that. I know you needed to be away to deal with what happened and I'll never shame you for it because it helped you. I wish I had that kind of escape. I wanted to run away. I had nowhere to run though. It's not something we could've discussed over IM or the phone. It was a face-to-face sort of thing and I couldn't face you with my truth."

There were also a few things she left out, a conversation for another day she supposed. Now they were finally on the same page. Sean let her talk, he said to her once she finished. "Now that we're standing here and you shared some things, no judgment okay?"

Emma answered, "No judgment, promise? No matter what we don't hold this stuff against one another?"

"Promise." They both paused as they interlocked pinkies for a moment, he softly asked her, "How about now, are you okay?"

Emma shook her head no as if she needed to clear the air, "Not exactly but getting there. I guess I needed you here in town, but not in a selfish way. It's not 'cause I loved you in a romantic sense. I don't have some hidden agenda or we were wrapped up in some twisted and toxic relationship. I didn't want it to be like that. Like we are now but different in an indescribable way. At the same time, I didn't want you to see my bad side."

"You know I don't care about that stuff. Just because we ended, doesn't mean I disliked you. In fact, I thought of you often and hoped you were well. It's why I reached out. I guess a part of me felt a little guilty."

"I figured. I knew when we were together, we stopped talking about things that bothered us or upset us. The bad stuff, confrontation, and stuff are why we blew up the way we did in the past. We didn't communicate, we talked but not for real. Not like this. I'd be lying if I didn't hate it."

"I'm glad you shared all that, I feel that way too just replace some things with other things, and felt that way a lot. How does it feel now that we do communicate?"

She thought for a moment as if a weight was lifted from her as she smiled softly, "Better."

"You got to promise me, we have talks like this more often? I feel a lot better too. Us being friends, I like it."

"Promise, and I like it too." Emma echoed the sentiment as she softly replied with a grin. When he wasn't facing her, yet, she knew she had a few secrets left to tell and she only knew those pinky promises won't matter.

24. What’s something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

It didn't happen in 2023 necc., but rather an earlier work. I try not to change or switch gears this one had me do just that.

So for Backtrack (idk if others know, it's like a 10-year old semma fix it fic I've been tinkering with for too long lol😆)

I had this whole idea for Craig and Manny to reignite their past relationship to ultimately have an endgame because I guess I wasn't too big on Janny at the time. I DON'T KNOW, it was a long time ago.

Anyway, I was writing the big Janny split and I started crying while writing the big moment, (embarrassing). I was like, well shit. I wrote the fuck out of a breakup between them, I mean I guess I got into it because I actually started to miss them, writing them, giving them dialogue and such and I decided to throw caution to the wind, abandon my initial plan in favor of bringing Janny into epic romance territory.

28. How did you recharge between fics?

Short answer: I take breaks if I experience burnout or get busy with other things irl or otherwise, and revisit it later, or long answer: I don't period and that means a. I abandon, or b. i take a long hiatus from said fic until a new plot bunny comes along and it reinvents my love for an oldie, c. a secret third option which combines a and b. basically or completely abandon it because that's the thing I do if worse comes to worse if the muse never comes back or i just get sick of it, or write myself a corner where none of it works for me.

basically my fic graveyard goes like this:

orange car of secrets is one i abandoned and never saw through no matter how times i'd tried to figure out what to do. (abandoned sometime in 2014)

* I kind of blended some concepts of this fic in together forever, another wip that i lowkey abandoned but still have hope for. it got me through the pandemic era (2020) after all!)

starlet and the dealer another abandoned because it just is irrelevant, self-explanatory. after all, its a bit of a soapy au season 13, a romance between zoe rivas and zig novak, so i kind of didn't have a choice. who wants to read something like that, let alone write it, so next. (abandoned sometime in 2015)

i also have a ton of half-baked stories, upcoming chapters for other unfinished works, potential one-shots, and drabbles, fic prompts, and idk if they would see the light of day or are being worked on in downtime and may show up once i promise or stick to my promise to finish just one!

I've been writing fics of the semma persuasion for the better part of a decade, over a decade so it's just common. I feel comfortable knowing these characters I typically write, as if they were my own but I create some bg or original characters to support the canon mains, and play like they're sim characters or something I don't know, but it's fun to write and I've become more comfortable writing au's and random newbies/oc's as a result of writing more, I think my vocab has grown a little better too.

(i'll leave you with a fun fact: ) fun fact: the initial title of my most recent work in progress (where are you now?) was lucky and there is/was a really shitty version on an older account from years ago on fanfiction, it's been reworked and retooled since (thank god).

to be fair, i was like 14 when i came up with the idea and it showed. it was VERY bad. some things remain from it, it was very melodramatic (not that where are you now? isn't) it's just I can't explain, I was so wrong and naive tbh.)✨

💌 thank you for the ask! if anyone is willing to send asks about fics and other things, don't be shy.

#asks #maya-matlin #fic #fic rec #answered #writing #writing tag #degrassi #semma #emjay #emma nelson #sean cameron #fanfiction #writing stuff