#he just wants a meet cute but instead he’s running for his life with one hand

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I love your Pokémon x ROR work. Can I ask for something similar but instead of fighting during ragnarok, the Gods and humans meet some of the Pokémon outside of battle? Like intimidating ones like Charizard to cuter ones like Pikachu who’s still pretty strong. They’re confused on how to handle these creatures they’ve never seen before then out comes teen!reader who happens to be their trainer who easily takes over the situation. It be funnier with the gods reacting to a human child being able to tame and bond with the scarier Pokémon aswell

-You hadn’t meant to cause harm or panic in Valhalla, you had found a large park, one that was perfect for a picnic and relaxing, as you wanted to take a break with your team, who came to Valhalla with you after you passed in a rockslide accident.

-The park was perfect, there was a huge lake for your Gyarados to swim around in, and lots of room for your other Pokemon to run around, climb trees, or rest under trees in the shade, and just enjoy their second chance in this new life.

-You hadn’t realized that Pokemon weren’t something common in Valhalla, only god like ones, legendries, so when your Pokemon all ran off to go and have fun, they caused a lot of panic.

-Your Sylveon, Pikachu, and Mimikyu remand together, running off into a busy district where they were quickly surrounded by gods and humans, curious as to who they were.

-Qin Shi Huang kneeled down, looking curious as he held one hand to his chin, “Hmm I’ve never seen creatures like this before.” He held out his hand and Sylveon called out happily, saying her name as her ribbons stretched out, grabbing onto his hand, as if shaking it.

-Ares was kneeling next to Pikachu, doing the same and Pikachu scurried up his arm, sitting on his shoulder, calling out happily while made so many grin on how cute it was.

-Jack was looking at Mimikyu, who had an uneasy feeling about him, like he was something dangerous as Jack tried to read him, “Hmm how curious- it looks much like that one, but it’s different.”

-He touched Mimikyu’s head, to find it only to be a disguise, flopping over, breaking it. Instantly Mimikyu was crying, dark shadows coming from underneath it’s disguise, crying out loudly.

-Jack did his best to apologize, but seeing the dark shadows quickly had many running, Pikachu had nearly been knocked off Ares’ shoulders, but he caught him before, “Pik-a CHU!!!!” and lightning surrounded him and the war god, making Ares’ skeleton visible as he was electrocuted.

-Sylveon was chill in Hades’ arms now, while still holding onto QSH, looking completely unbothered as she called out, telling the other two to calm down.

-Many were prepared to fight these strange creatures, thinking they were a threat as Ares was twitching on the ground, charred before they heard, “Hey you guys! You were supposed to stay in the park!”

-The three instantly called out, seeing you running over and jaws dropped, seeing a child as the three Pokemon ran over to you, calling out happily, Mimikyu scurrying up your arm and held you around your neck, hugging you.

-Hades was polite, inquiring about your creatures and you told them that they were Pokemon, your partners, and after explaining what Pokemon were, many calmed down, as they had seen them before, just not ones like this.

-You apologized to Ares who told you he was fine, just shocked, literally, that Pikachu was so strong! You went to speak before you heard another of your Pokemon call out and you turned, seeing Snorlax gorging himself at an outdoor restaurant, “Snorlax!!”

-They all followed you over to the massive Pokemon who called out happily, seeing you while you apologized to the restaurant staff who were fine, as Snorlax didn’t break anything, he was just eating his fill on the endless food that was available.

-Hercules was impressed, “This is one of yours too?” you beamed, putting a hand on Snorlax’ belly, “Yup- this is my cuddly fat boy- isn’t that right?” Snorlax, hearing your pet name, pulled you into his arms, hugging you close which made you laugh.

-You recalled him into his Pokeball, followed by the others before you heard Gyarados calling out loudly, as if he was ready to fight as the sky darkened, “Oh no!”

-You all turned, seeing the lake in the park, seeing Gyarados stretching out of it, glaring down at Lu Bu, who was holding halberd, looking feral himself, ready for a fight as everyone scrambled after you as you shouted out Gyarados’ name.

-Seeing this massive Pokemon instantly calming down, hearing your voice, turning from this human that seemed so adamant to fight him, lowering his head as you leapt, hugging at his face.

-Jack was in awe, seeing this massive creature being so gentle with you while Lu Bu was pouting that you took away his opportunity to fight something strong.

-You recalled Gyarados back in as you apologized to everyone for causing so much trouble before Hercules pointed back at where a picnic was set up, your picnic, “What about that one?”

-You turned, seeing Charizard snoozing on the blanket, fast asleep and you beamed, “That’s my Charizard! He likes to sleep a lot but he’s just as strong as any of my Pokemon!”

-Charizard, hearing his name, woke up, sitting up and yawned loudly before walking over, hugging you from behind as you told your tale about how you died, taking your Pokemon with you, and now you were all here in Valhalla.

-Charizard rested his head on top of your own, still looking a bit sleepy, but Jack, Hercules, Lu Bu, and Ares were all easily able to tell that he was insanely strong, despite looking so unassuming.

-You were happy to have them all join your picnic, calling all your partners back out, telling them to behave this time, as you talked about your world, about all the different types of Pokemon you had seen, which they enjoyed.

-You were only a child, but you were a warrior, just a different type of warrior then what they were used to, but that didn’t make you any less of one and they wanted to know more about you, and what drove you to become a trainer.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror hades #ror qin shi huang #ror heracles #ror jack the ripper #ror ares #ror lu bu

[lovezbrownies]

Hello??? I just found your blog and omfg your writing is DELECTABLE 💖 I especially love Red ❤️‍🔥 you don’t have to but if you don’t mind could you share some more info about him? Like maybe some head cannons, please?? It’s up to you though!! Love your work!!!! Have a nice day/night, cheers!

Thank you!!! leajdsjhj, super glad you enjoyed Red, honestly I loved writing down his story :3 I'll probably add more to his character later on! keep in mind he isn't as twisted in this as he was in his intro post but i will write something like sometime in the future.

Yandere!Boss headcanons.

Masterlist

Red Ludenhart x Reader

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, murder, torture, suggestive at the very end, but cute overall :3

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Red is very romantic. You could go out for a coffee run and somehow come back to your apartment covered in roses, balloons, 15 different gifts, and a very horny Red. You really won’t see the end of it! He’s obsessed with you and he will let you and the entire world know. With Red’s income this man can easily rent out an entire restaurant just to have a nice private extravagant dinner with his loved one. Although he is a tad bit crazy if he finds out you’re uncomfortable with him doing that he would bend over backwards just to find out what your preferences are. Red wants you to love him as much as he loves you, so why would he ever try to make you uncomfortable? You make his life better so he’ll make yours perfect.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Red is also quite affectionate, an arm always around you, his face nuzzled somewhere on your body, kissing at any spot of skin he can find. He especially loves it when you just randomly go on his lap. Red loves it when you’re on his lap, he loves to completely wrap himself around you, cocooning his little butterfly. If he, for some reason, can’t touch you, rest assured he will grab at your shirt instead, his love and need for affection knows no bounds, really! If Red ever catches you wearing jeans oh lord you’d have to physically pull him away from you because he will put his hands on the back pockets of your jeans. Or he would grab your hand and put it in his own back pockets, he just finds the whole act so cute!

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Red refuses to go to work if you’re not there. An investor wants to speak to him? Tell them to wait. There’s a storage issue? He’ll deal with it when you two get there. This man would not work without you there even if the Queen told him to. People have come to learn his schedule is your schedule, if they see you’re not there they won’t bother trying to find him. Even when he is there, he will most definitely neglect a lot of his duties in favor of you, pulling you away for an impromptu makeout session, just staring at you like a lovesick puppy; fair warning he will get upset if anyone dares to interrupt his precious time with you.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~You should be careful if you do go out with him  however, because if Red catches anyone trying to make a move on you he goes absolutely ballistic. While he knows you’re smart enough not to cheat on him, others aren’t. Red cannot handle the fact that other people can perceive how attractive you are, and what’s worse is when they act on their feelings. Red has a tactic for these parasites. Act like it’s okay, get to know the freak, then pay good money to have them kidnapped and tortured for a very long time. He even pays extra for a recording of it! Of course Red has all these recordings well hidden from you and checks you’re nowhere nearby before watching them.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Red values family. While he understands if you have a complicated relationship with your family he hopes you can still get along with his. Red’s family is incredibly important to him, some parts of his childhood weren’t the best due to his biological parents, he was thankfully adopted by his new dad, Grim Ludenhart, and given the best childhood possible. Red would let you choose when to meet all of his family, but meeting his biological younger sibling is something you will not be able to skip on. Red values Siolis’ opinion quite a bit– so if they end up not liking you it will hurt him. While it won’t deter him from pursuing a relationship with you, this drift between the two most important people of his life will cause him a great deal of pain. But thankfully Red’s father, Siolis, and the rest of the family did end up approving of your relationship, welcoming you in with open arms.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Speaking of families, Red is amazing with children. But does it mean he wants any? No, not necessarily. If you do end up asking him for kids he will gladly provide two, preferably adopting. No more, no less. Red would be a phenomenal father, loving his kids equally and ensuring that anything they want they get. He will keep his job hidden from them up until they are teenagers, by then Red isn’t that worried of the influence his job might have on his kids. Red will buy a big enough house with a huge backyard right before you have kids. This man refuses to skimp out on them, just like his father.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Oh boy how excited Red gets in the bedroom. This man is NOT vanilla at all, introducing all types of freaky shit into the bedroom, with your consent of course. Red adores the act. And not in a kinky way at all, he loves how close you two become when you do the deed, how intertwined you are, how you desperately grab at him, how you look just as you’re about to let go, how even after multiple rounds you somehow manage to turn him on once again, causing him to become rock solid before he can even pull out fully. Also want to mention Red definitely has some form of food or mouth kink. This man loves shotgun kisses, the way you cough it up causes his dick to dig straight into your back. He loves to do this with any substance really, if it went from his mouth to yours, or better yet your mouth to his expect a complete mess in his pants.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Point is, this man is so loving. While also kind freaky :3.

Lil quick drawing I made of him :3

#x reader #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #gender neutral #Red Ludenhart #yandere headcanons #Yandere x reader #obsession

[wlwarhammer]

Rick grimes is a romcom girlie forced into a zombie show

#he just wants a meet cute but instead he’s running for his life with one hand #save him :( #desperate times (a zombie apocalypse) call for desperate measures (writing ff about you and ur wife) #twd towl #towl #richonne #rick grimes #michonne #twd

[metalandmagi]

Romance Anime Starter List

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sick and tired of seeing “Top ___ Best Anime of All Time” lists that are nothing but shounen. So, with "My Happy Marriage" getting a little attention from the anime community, I wanted to put together a list of some romance anime that I consider good “starters” for the genre. Because if I were just now becoming an anime fan, I’d think all there was to offer was shounen action series.

And by “starters” I mean basic stuff that’s not too…out there, and actually involves the characters getting together instead of just harems or using romance as a side plot (sorry Ouran High School Host Club and My Next Life as a Villainess). 

So if you’re new to anime and want stuff that’s not just guys beating the shit out of each other (which is also fun, don’t get me wrong), here are some basics.

Taisho Maiden Fairy Tale- When the pessimistic Tamahiko Shima loses all function in his right arm, his family sends him away to live in the mountains with the cheerful, hard working Yuzuki Tachibana…who was purchased by the Shima family to pay off her family’s debts and basically act as a caretaker/future bride for Tamahiko so they’d never have to deal with him again. It’s a more cheerful version of My Happy Marriage (without the supernatural stuff), except in this one, the guy is the one who has massive self-esteem issues and an abusive family. There are still very serious themes, but ultimately it’s not meant to make you cry every episode. I swear it’s so good, but nobody watched it!

Horimiya- A slice of life in which pretty and popular high school queen bee Hori, finds out her quiet, unassuming classmate Miyamura is hiding piercings and tattoos that could get him expelled. The two gradually find out more about each other and get together in the most realistic way I’ve seen depicted in an anime. It’s also fucking hysterical and genuinely emotional.

Recovery of an MMO Junkie- Another slice of life that focuses on two adults who meet in an MMO game without realizing they also know each other in real life. I don’t want to say much more than that. It’s adorable, and the main character is so relatable it hurts.

Love with Yamada-kun at Level 999- Speaking of MMOs, this is a newer series about Akane Kinoshita, a college first year who’s reeling from a bad break up. In an attempt to get back at her ex, she winds up meeting Akito Yamada, a popular gamer who happens to be in her guild in the MMO they both play at an IRL meetup. The two go from acquaintances to something more as they keep running into each other. Even more relatable main characters and just wholesome relationships all around.

Snow White With The Red Hair- A fantasy in which an apothecary named Shirayuki (meaning, you guessed it, “snow white”) runs away from her home in order to escape becoming the concubine of her town’s prince. While fleeing, she is rescued by Zen, the prince of a neighboring country, and she ends up becoming an herbalist to repay him. It's super cute with some genuinely swoon worthy moments and a couple that just works so well together. I have a habit of comparing this to Akatsuki no Yona, even though the two aren’t really that alike. This is more romance driven while Akatsuki no Yona is more of a serious historical fantasy with romance elements (Yona manga is amazing, but the anime barely scratches the surface, so that’s why I didn’t include it).

Sasaki to Miyano- When the shy, easily flustered Miyano meets Sasaki, a cool “delinquent” upperclassmen, the two end up bonding over manga…specifically BL manga. That’s right, Miyano is a fudanshi, but due to his small stature and somewhat feminine appearance, he’s constantly trying to convince others that he’s not interested in having his own love story where he’d be reduced to a stereotypical doe-eyed uke. But as Sasaki and Miyano spend more time together, they realize that what they have is more than friendship, and they have to come to terms with their own perception of gay relationships. This is my favorite romance of all time. It’s a slow burn, but boy is it worth it. Their relationship is so natural and realistic, just like Horimiya. Just two people hanging out and bonding over things the way people do in real life!

Given: The story of some boys in a band with trauma. Enough said. It's great. Go watch it.

Bloom Into You- Yuu Koito is a high school girl who’s been waiting her whole life for her own perfect romance to start…but when she receives a confession, she realizes she doesn’t know how to respond when she’s just not into the guy. And then she gets another confession…this time from the cool student council president Touko Nanami, who basically jumpstarts her lesbian awakening. Very cute story about how we perceive the concept of love vs actually feeling it. Also has a canonically aro/ace side character, so that’s a win for me. Another show like this is Adachi to Shimamura (but I honestly don’t remember much about it. It just didn’t stick with me as much).

Ore Monogatari- Takeo Gouda is a tall, bulky high school first year with a sensitive heart of gold. He wants nothing more than to find his own true love, but most girls are intimidated by his enormous stature, and they end up falling for his conventionally attractive friend instead. That is, until he meets the tiny, adorable Rinko Yamato. He falls in love instantly, but he’s sure she’s interested in his best friend like everyone else, so he vows to help get them together, even though his heart is breaking. Peak himbo behavior. Pure of heart, dumb of ass.

Yuri on Ice- Yes it’s the gay figure skating anime everyone knows. And yes it’s a fucking romance, okay? I will die on this hill. The romance between Viktor and Yuri is just as important as the plot!

Kaguya-sama Love Is War- Two insanely smart high school students both have a crush on the other, but since they’re…you know…high schoolers, neither of them wants to admit it first. So they come up with increasingly convoluted plans to get the other to confess first. This will go down as one of the best of all time. It’s a hilarious yet poignant modern classic.

Fruits Basket- I’ve talked about it before and I’ll talk about it again. A romance “comedy” that slowly morphs into a drama about a girl named Tohru who finds herself living with the mysterious Sohma family after her mother dies. Little does she know, the Sohmas are the victims of a  (somewhat silly, but ultimately tragic) curse that she must fight to break. Even though I’m more into it for the family drama, the romance is still top tier and plays an important role in the story. This is my second favorite anime of all time, and it’s a classic for a reason. If anyone hasn’t watched it yet, GO WATCH IT! IT WILL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!

And now for some honorable mentions that didn't quite fit into the regular list:

Ride Your Wave- A movie about a surfer who falls in love with a firefighter……and I’m not going to say any more than that. Go into it blind. If you like stuff like Your Name, this is a good one to watch.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun- A comedy about a high school girl who finds out the upperclassman she has a crush on is actually a shoujo manga artist, and no matter how she tries to confess to him, he just never gets it.

The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague- A slow burn slice of life that focuses on a guy with ice powers who has a crush on his coworker. That’s it. That’s the show. When I say slow, I mean SLOW. It’s perfectly cute and fluffy, but my god does it take forever to get anywhere with these two.

Skip to Loafer- A high strung, small town girl decides to go to high school in Tokyo, where she meets a variety of classmates, including the laid back Sousuke Shima. The unlikely pair become friends, and soon enough, she starts to feel something more than friendship. The only reason I didn’t include it in the main list is because they don’t get together by the end of the first season, but it’s still really cute (also canonically trans character for the win!?)

So that’s my starter list. And no, I didn’t include Toradora, even though it’s a classic. I know it’s blasphemous, but I like it more as a comedy than a romance. It kinda lost me with the ending. But anyway, maybe someone will find something they like. Or maybe you'll just want to roast me and my picks 😅

#yuri on ice #kaguya sama: love is war #fruits basket #ore monogatari #bloom into you #sasaki to miyano #snow white with the red hair #yamada kun to lv999 no koi wo suru #horimiya #recovery of an mmo junkie #taisho maiden fairy tale #skip to loafer #unfortunately not much bl or gl since a lot that I've seen is too...out there for this list... #now bl manga on the other hand... #why did i make this lol? #because i finally got to the confession scene in akatsuki no yona of course and now i'm dead #I kinda want to include doukyuusei too but it's just a little bit steamier than what I was going for with this 😅

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Green

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.

Masterlist Playlist

Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.

“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.

“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper. 

“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”

You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned. 

You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit. 

“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.

“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” You sit back. 

“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”

“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.

“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel. 

“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke. 

“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”

You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.

“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit. 

“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”

Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level. 

“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest. 

“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.

“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt. 

Fuck, now that feels amazing. 

“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint. 

He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.

“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”

You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out. 

You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated. 

“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”

You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?

You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.

“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.

He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back. 

“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers. 

“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips. 

“Mm.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.

“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”

“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.” 

You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”

“Yeah? What do you like the most?”

“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.

“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”

“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.” 

“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"

Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”  

“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him. 

“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight.  Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”

A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession. 

“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”

You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 

You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters. 

“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel. 

You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror. 

“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.

“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel. 

“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”

“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.

“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.” 

You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror. 

“Take your shirt off.”

You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head. 

“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out. 

The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.

“Wh—“ 

“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.” 

He looks a little annoyed, you like that. 

“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”

Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.

“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror. 

Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.

“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.” 

Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.

“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table. 

“Good. Feel better?” 

He nods.

“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.” 

He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you. 

Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way. 

“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request. 

Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you. 

“Thank you.” 

Another nod. 

You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”

This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.

“Then come stand here in front of me.” 

You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you. 

You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.

“Now, drink it up,” you order.

He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.” 

Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.

Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.

“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.

“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?” 

Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet. 

“Face the mirror again Joel.”

He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name. 

“Touch yourself for me Joel.” 

His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command. 

“Stroke yourself for me.” 

He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.

You wonder when the last time he did this was.

“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.” 

“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again. 

Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more. 

“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.” 

Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours. 

“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race. 

You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller. 

“Stop,” you bark out. 

He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself. 

“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?” 

Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod. 

“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”

“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter. 

“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.” 

He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you. 

You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands.  This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. 

“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his. 

You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?” 

Joel shudders and furiously nods.

“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”

A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing. 

You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it. 

“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.” 

He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it. 

“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?” 

Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin. 

“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?” 

“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.

“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit. 

Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.

“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him. 

You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him. 

Joel grumbles as you stand back up. 

“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it. 

He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.

“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.

His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him. 

“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.

“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness. 

“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.

“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.

“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it. 

“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.

“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”

Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this. 

“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”

Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now. 

You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you. 

“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.

You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you. 

A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation. 

He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples. 

“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”

High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering. 

“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut. 

You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.

Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake. 

“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat. 

You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.

You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe. 

#tw marijuana #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller ff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel the last of us

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG for the opla requests if they r still open !! something with a jealous or protective buggy x reader would be perfect!!

My requests are always open! 🦦❤️💕

It’s not a stretch to say that when Buggy becomes jealous it’s purely because deep down he’s heavily insecure man, despite how cocky and confident he may come across as, whilst shit talking whoever opposes him with a shit eating grin.

But that grin never meets his eyes as the muscles in his jaw visibly tighten and whilst on the topic of his ever so beautiful eyes, they didn’t seem to twinkle nor gleam with their usual mischief whilst doing his routine theatrics; Instead they held a type of malice that acts to conceal the actual emotions running through him in real time.

While he prides himself in having someone that everyone else wanted -that person being you- in regards of how often he’d look away from you for one second, only to find you being chatted up by some stranger within the fraction of the time it took for him to blink! Buggy also couldn’t help but feel as though that his time spent with you was steadily inching towards it’s impending end. For each and every person that came up to you ended up being more beautiful or more handsome then the last, that it made Buggy very insecure in his own outward appearance as questions he’d had shoved down a while back beginning to resurface.

Things such as;

Were you happy with him?

Or did you like what you were seeing elsewhere?

Do you think him hideous?

Or were you biting your tongue out of pity for him and his glass heart?

But most importantly; did you still love him as much as the day you openly confessed to loving him?

Or had that love wavered over time as new temptations were brought in and out of your life?

These questions torment him well into the night the longer it went on, but not once did he think that he could tell you about any of this without you thinking that he’s lost trust in you. Which wasn’t the case; Buggy trusts you a whole lot more in comparison to the people who were openly trying to shoot their shot with you whilst he was right there to witness all of it happening.

And so naturally it pissed him off to the point where that no matter where it was that you went, you’d always be carrying something of his that boldly told anyone and everyone who it was that you belonged to. Whether that be hickies spanning the length of your neck and other visible places, his Sigil drawn on somewhere or smears of his makeup on your face from physically intensive activities.

This guy is like a peacock when threatened; he makes himself look as big as possible, makes loud threats or -when push comes to shove- going as far as to straight up challenge the person whom threatens to steal you away from the flashy fool; After all, nobody was aloud to take away his most precious and most priceless treasure. Hell Buggy even has you perched on his lap as he’s sits upon his throne, one hand propping up his head whilst the other hand rested against your waist, keeping you in a position where you were reliant on him.

You’re his just as much as he is yours and he’s not about to let some random person ruin all that.

All you need to do on your end is actually quite simple; reassure Buggy that he was everything you’ve ever needed in a partner and so much more, that it dashes the possibility of there ever being anyone else to smithereens, for no one else could come close to your beloved Buggy.

Gently hold his face in your hands as you kiss your love and adoration into his skin, making sure to give most of your attention towards that cute nose of his, knowing how it’s the main source of his insecurities, as he straight up falls apart in your hands. Literally. You have his head in his hands whilst the rest of his body was a pile of parts at your feet that you wished you could take a picture of this moment forever, but due to you being occupied for the rest of the day, so in the end you made an attempt to memorise this moment to memory as best as you could so that you could always go back to it when you’d fallen asleep in bed beside him.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious effect you have on this goof who fills your heart with so much love, that sometimes it made verbalising your feelings harder then necessary. And yet seeing your lovers eyes fall shut and hearing his breathing even out from just your touch alone made the honeyed words flow like water.

It didn’t take much to quell Buggy’s fear and his upset but don’t think you’ll be getting away anytime soon, I’m afraid your stuck there until Buggy feels like he’s had enough. It’s like the equivalent of having a cat fall fast asleep on you for the first time since bringing it home, you don’t wanna move in the instance of accidentally waking it up.

#opla buggy #opla x reader #opla buggy x reader #one piece live action x reader #one piece live action #opla #buggy x reader

[rafecameroninterlude]

i found your blog today and i’m so obsessed, i love it smmm! i was wondering if you could do a oneshot where reader finds out she’s pregnant and rafe is so sweet and supportive abt it. like he immediately starts treating her like she’s fragile to the touch and spoils her rotten :(((

- also idk if you do emoji anons but if you do, can i please be 🍓??

warnings: soft!rafe, unprotected sex, pregnancy

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,” rafe groaned, about to pull out so he could finish on your tummy instead. “no, no, please cum inside me rafe!” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t move. “shit- are you sure?” a groan fell from his lips, his hips stuttering as he continued thrusting into you. he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes as you nodded frantically. “yes, i’m sure. fill me up!” your words pushed him over the edge, both of you moaning in unison as he emptied himself inside of you

now, nearly a month later, here you were staring down at two pink lines. you chewed your lip nervously, taking a second test to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. sure enough, the pink lines showed up darker than the first ones. “i’m so pregnant.” you whispered to yourself, a smile forming on your lips as you used a pillow to muffle your scream. “no way!” you squealed, freezing once you realized you needed to tell rafe. “oh, fuck..” you glanced at the time on your phone, 4:30 PM. only thirty minutes left until he got home.

you rushed back into the bathroom, grabbing the tests and hiding them in the drawer. your mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to figure out how you’d break the news. you changed out of your clothes and into rafe’s favorite summer dress, quickly freshening up your hair. by the time rafe walked through the door, you were buzzing with excitement, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “hey, baby.” he pulled you into a hug, his arms swallowing whole. “how was that meeting with your dad?” you let him carry you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions with a sigh.

“good, real good,” he nodded. “it was funny, we met up with this family and they had these kids running around. ‘was real cute.” rafe smiled. “that was all my dad talked about on the way home, ‘said he needed to be a grandpa already.” he shook his head. you couldn’t help but gaze up at him. “what do you think about that? having kids?” rafe looked down at you, his eyes growing soft as he traced the curve of your lips. “oh, man. when that time comes, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’d be the most amazing mother to our babies.” he kissed your knuckles.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, rafe immediately pulling you against his chest. “what’s wrong, love? was it something i said?” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “no, it’s just.. i feel like i really needed to hear that.” you smiled, rubbing his chest. “you needed to hear me say that you’d be a great mother to our babies?” rafe sounded slightly confused, making you stand up. “stay here, i’m gonna get something.” your heart beat in your ears the whole way up and down the stairs, your hands shaking as you showed him the positive pregnancy tests.

he stared for a moment, slowly taking them from you. rafe was silent for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked up at you. “oh, my god.” he stood up, hands reaching out touch you as if you weren’t real. “oh, my god, baby..” he lowered himself on his knees, lining his head up with your stomach. he wrapped his arms around you, clutching the hem of your dress as he cried into your skin. “are you happy?” you squeaked out, running your fingers through his buzzed hair. “are you kidding me? this is the best day of my life.” he sniffled. picking you up bridal style, and carrying you upstairs.

“i’ve wanted this for a very long time.” he kissed you, laying you down ever so gently. “we’re going shopping first thing tomorrow,” he kicked off his shoes, “what’s that app you’re always on? picnic? painter?” you laughed. “pinterest, rafe.” he nodded, “yeah that,” he settled in next to you, draping an arm across your torso. “we’ll start looking for inspiration for the nursery, oh! and we should probably tell our families once we’re in the safe zone, just to make sure everything’s alright..” you sighed, tracing shapes into his skin as you shut your eyes momentarily. “thank you.” rafe rested his head in the crook of your neck, “no, thank you.”

#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe edit #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #outer banks netflix #rafe concepts #rafe core #rafe coded #rafe blurb

[a-mint-bear]

Yandere Boy Types

The Stalker

● Knows everything about you. Your birthday, favorite color, animal, food? That's easy! Give him a hard one. He knows what shows you're watching lately, what you get for takeout, who you talk to every day. He even knows what you wrote about him in your journal. You're using a new toothpaste lately. He's taking notes.

● Has been in your place dozens of times, goes through your drawers and lays in your bed and sniffs your pillow. Maybe even some other stuff he can't mention in polite company... Sometimes you notice things out of place, maybe? Missing things too. Maybe it's just your imagination.

● You dismiss that feeling of someone watching you or following you, thinking you're just being paranoid. But he tends to show up when you go out. Isn't that just such a coincidence? You should totally come sit at his table at the coffee shop though, why not?

● Has lots of pictures of you. LOTS. You smiling for the camera, reading on the park bench, in line at your usual pharmacy, even some when you were pretty sure you were alone. Is that you sleeping?

The Actor

● Pretends to be whatever you need him to be to win you over. Maybe you like sporty guys? He did track and field in school and he's training for a marathon, you wanna join him for runs? Artsy guys your thing? He loves to paint, has for years! Shy boys are the cutest, right? He stutters and looks away when he sees you. He totally didn't mean to touch your hand just then, so sorry!

● You mentioned to a friend you like guys who like animals? Guess who just got a puppy! You like strawberries? They're his favorite! Wow, you have the same coffee order, what are the odds? He thought you liked it when guys paint their nails? Oh, you think that color would look better? He's already adding it to his cart.

● He can't remember what his favorite song used to be, he's been listening to that band you're into lately. What kind of cake does he like? Well, whatever you want him to like! That stuff isn't important anyway. Just tell him what you want him to be into, he'll love it!

● Doesn't understand why you don't just fall for him already, but he'll pretend as long as it takes. He'll be anyone you want him to be, he doesn't need anything or want anything if it's not to make you look his way. You don't feel the same way about him? That's okay! He can change! Just...tell him what you want!

The Loner

● On his own a lot for one reason or another, but when he met you, there was just something about you... Maybe it was a friendly smile you sent his way, or just how your hair looked. Maybe you were just there on a bad day. But whatever the reason, he can't seem to forget you.

● You're meeting up with friends? You should hang out with him instead. You have to get ready for work? A sick day never hurt anyone. And you deserve a day off. He would love it if you just spent every day with him. Just him.

● Sometimes his possessiveness is cute. He pouts when you answer your phone when you're together. He stares daggers at the overly-flirty cashier at the convenience store. He shoves the touchy-feely guy on the street off you and walks you home. Sometimes it's not so cute. He is convinced that your best guy friend is in love with you and it pisses him off. If anyone accidentally touches you he's up in their face. It's not you he doesn't trust. You're just too cute, of course everyone would want you like he does.

● He just wishes you didn't need anyone other than him. You're his whole world. Why can't you see he just wants to be with you all the time? Why won't you only look at him? Can't you see how much he loves you? There's no one else like you. You're it for him. No one else even comes close.

The Devotee

● Worships you. You are the light of his life, why he gets out of bed in the morning, his reason for being. His every waking thought is consumed by you. Every time he sees you, it's like a radiant light surrounds you. He can't look away.

● Adores you. You know who's so cute? You, of course! The way you move, all your little habits, the look in your eyes when you see him. He's never seen such a flawless human being. Everything you don't like about yourself is just one more thing he finds so charming about you. If you let him, he would never stop touching and kissing every inch of you.

● Would die for you. Just say the word. If you ever needed him to suffer for any reason, he wouldn't even hesitate. Yell at him, push him, shove him? It hurts, but that's okay! As long as he's near you, he's in heaven. If it made you happy, he'd do anything. He doesn't matter! All that matters is you.

● Would kill for you. That creep at the bar who gets a bit too handsy with you? Gone. That coworker who made you cry in the bathroom at work? Gone. Maybe that neighbor who looks at you just a bit too long on your walks? Gone. You and your best friend had a fight? Gone. No one appreciates you like he does. No one else deserves you!

#which one is your favorite? #male yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere imagines #im sure there's more #maybe there're combo boys :o #i started to write about my yandere preferences and it turned into this post #i like stalker types but they all have their charms #fictional stalkers of course #long post #i thought about breaking this up into 4 posts #but you can only copy/cut one paragraph at a time

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Chan are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (6k words)

Author's note: Happy Valentine's day, my spicy lovers ❤️

Chan has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on your knee. Somehow whenever he's with you, he needs his hand constantly touching you.

"Do you think they like me?" You ask, nervously glance his way.

"Who?" Chan doesn't mean to not listen to your cute rambling, but he has his focus on driving.

"Who else?" You ask back instead of answering.

Chan has to think for a while whether you're still talking about his parents whom you just met and had dinner with earlier or his friends you're going to meet soon.

"My parents?" He asks.

You subtly roll your eyes, "duh?!"

He chuckles at your response and grabs the hand resting on your lap, he can feel that it's cold and a little damp.

"Why are still nervous?" He confusingly asks because the dinner has already ended almost an hour ago.

"I wouldn't be this nervous if your parents didn't watch us having sex on TV," you lowly sigh at the end of your sentence.

He bursts out laughing hearing that, you worried so much about these little things that he thinks it's cute.

"Does it matter that they like you?" He curiously asks.

"Of course!" You shorty answer like it's not obvious enough.

"They're your parents. I want to be deemed good, I want to be liked by them, your parents," you explain, shaking the hand in yours.

It doesn't matter that much to him. Regardless his parents like you or not, that wouldn't change the fact that he loves you. He also thinks you couldn't be cuter than this, worrying about whether his parents like you or not.

Once Chan parked the car, you put the visor down and your purse on your lap, he guesses you're about to fix your makeup before getting out of the car.

Wanting to tease you, he turns your head to the side and kisses you once you have applied a fresh coat of lipstick to purposely mess it up.

"Baby, you—" your complaint ends with a sigh instead, "you ruined it."

With his hand on your jaw, he holds your face still and leans in closer, "May as well...?"

Your hand stops him from coming closer, "Your friends are waiting," you remind him.

"Uhm... I don't think they would mind waiting a few more minutes," he says.

"Babe, we shouldn't—"

But he cuts you off with a kiss, a kiss that sends the windows of the car foggy with how much heat you're both producing inside.

You both giggle as you run to the bar where you'll meet his friends and once you step inside, you can see the red tint around Chan's lips and even on his nose from your lipstick.

"It's all over you, "You mutter as you reach to wipe it with your fingers as Chan cranes his neck to look for his friends inside the crowded bar.

"There they are," he takes your hand and leads the way to take you to the corner of the room where his friends are.

It's been great being where he grew up and meeting the friends who grow with him, but it always gets you nervous when he introduces you to new people.

You hate being perceived and with how you acted in the show, you're afraid that they get the wrong ideas about you.

Chan greets his friends with a bright smile and a quick hug, then he proceeds to introduce you after.

"You know who this is," he gives a short introduction of you with his hand resting on the small of your back.

"I'm James," the tall guy says with wavy brown hair, offering his hand at you.

"Hi, nice to meet you," you say as you shake his hand and politely smile.

"This is Leah, my girlfriend," James introduces the girl standing next to him, a beautiful girl with dark long hair and freckles dusted her both cheeks.

You know Chan wouldn't make you feel left out but you feel relieved that you're not going to be the only girl hanging out with these boys tonight.

"Very nice to meet you," you say, giving her a quick cheek-to-cheek hug.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person," James says.

"Yeah, Chris can't stop talking about you. He's been yapping," Leah says, poking fun at Chan.

You turn to the side to look at Chan and raise an eyebrow at him, "Oh, really?"

"It's true," Chan immediately admits with a coy shrug and a shy smile.

Then he holds his hand up and glares at Leah, "Except for the yapping part," he quickly adds.

Everyone bursts into laughter and unlike the dinner you had with his parents earlier, you feel like you don't need to try hard to impress them.

"Let's get you guys a drink," James says.

While the boys are playing a game of pool, you and Leah are chatting over drinks., exchanging a few things about Chan like how James and Leah are his friends from high school which is also when they began dating.

"So you guys have been together like... forever?!" You say in awe, admiring their years of dating when your and Chan's relationship has been going on for nearly a year.

"Well, time flies by," she casually says like a decade-long relationship means nothing.

She sips her drink and snacks on a tray of fries in front of her, "how do you like Australia so far? Where have you been exploring?"

You quickly swallow your drink to answer her question, "Oh, I love it here, anything but the heat honestly," you answer along with a low laugh.

"I know, the heat is crazy these days," she says, finishing her drink in one long sip.

She glances at your glass and sees that you have finished your drink too, "How about a round of wet pussy?" She asks out of nowhere.

Not sure you heard her right, but your head is looking around to see if anyone heard it too and can confirm it for you.

"Excuse me?" You ask with a puzzled look on your face.

Leah bursts out laughing, amused by your utter bewilderment.

"Not that, oh, you thought—" she pauses to take a breath from all the laughter.

"It's just the name of a drink. It's sweet, it's delicious, you're going to like it," she assures you.

Leah doesn't wait for your answer but leaves the table to order it and returns with two shot glasses filled with pink-colored liquid. She hands one to you and holds one for herself.

"What's in this?" You curiously ask.

"Vodka, peach snapps, a dash of cranberry juice, lime, and every deliciousness there is," she playfully answers.

Chan comes to the table to have a sip of his drink and notices the drink in your hand, "Having wet pussy?"

"Uh-huh," you answer.

He winces after sipping his drink, "Be careful with that!" He says.

"Lighten up, Chris!" Leah says.

She makes you ignore his warning and initiate a toast with you, clinking the shot glass together then takes the shots at once.

The wet pussy is fruity and sweet, apart from the burn of alcohol down your throat, you would think that it's a glass of juice.

"Oh!" You gasp in amazement.

Leah smiles in satisfaction, knowing that you approve her recommendation, "Good, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "Can we have another round?"

"Sure, yeah," Leah says, doesn't mind ordering it for both of you.

The next thing you know, your tables are filled with empty shot glasses and you can feel yourself loosening up with every sip you take.

You're laughing at something when Chan presses his knuckle on your cheek, probably noticing how flushed they are.

"You might want to slow down on the drinking," he mutters to you.

You hold his chin so you can place a peck on his lips, "Oh, you mean these wet pussy?"

Chan laughs at that and puts his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the fact that James and Leah are making out across the table.

"You should have one of these wet pussy," you tell him, saying the name of the drink with a sly smile.

He leans into your side and whispers, "I'll have one, later, at home."

You put your hand under his chin and hold his face, wanting to catch up to what James and Leah are doing. Maybe it's the alcohol or Chan is simply a damn good kisser that you get that flutter and warmth all over you.

-

Chan can't tell how drunk you are but he has to hold you close to his side to keep you steady.

You both stand outside the bar to send his friends off on their way home, you manage to wave your hands as they leave in their car.

"Can you walk, love?" He asks.

You bob your head and begin walking toward the car in slow, careful steps.

Chan hurriedly holds your hand, afraid that you'd stumble in this state that he believes is the most drunk of you he's ever seen.

He reaches for the door of the car to open it for you when you pin him against the car, putting all of your weight against him as you put your hands around his neck.

Chan can't say no when you kiss him so passionately that he has a hard time returning it to you. He puts your arms around you to keep you steady and kisses you back just as hard and as deep.

It's when your hand wanders to the waistband of his jeans, that he breaks the kiss. He cups your cheeks in his hands and gently kisses your nose.

"Let's get home first, mmh?" He says

"Mmh, okay," you croak, letting him help you get into the passenger's side.

When he finally gets into the car, you fall asleep holding the safety belt on your lap. He quietly laughs, then buckles the belt for you.

Getting you inside the car is one thing, getting you out is another thing. He has to carry you in both arms when you suddenly wake up and insist on walking on your own.

"I'm not a baby," you slurred your words, trudging your way into the elevator.

Inside the elevator, you eventually cling to him again and instead of getting upset, he thinks you're adorable when you're drunk.

You kick your shoes off right after you enter his apartment and walk further inside while trying to take your dress off by yanking at it.

"Why is it so hot?" You grumble, still yanking at the front of your dress and heading straight to the bedroom.

Chan goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and finds you still trying to remove your dress while hurling yourself around the room.

"Let me take it off for you, yeah?" He offers to help.

You stand with your back facing him so he can unzip the dress and pull it off of you. You immediately collapse onto the bed, lying down on your stomach.

"Have a sip of water first, okay?" He suggests, forcing you to drink some water by bringing it close to your mouth.

"Want to sleep..." you grumble again with your nose scrunched.

"Just a sip, baby, please?" He sweetly begs.

You lift your head just enough to sip the water from the glass and hurriedly rest your head on the pillow again.

"Good girl," Chan mutters with a tender caress on your head.

He keeps the glass of water on the bedside table and he heads out of the bedroom, putting the things he has prepared for the night back in their place.

He puts away the cake, and flowers, then dumps the rose petals scattered on the kitchen island into the trash bin. He washes up real quick and finally joins you on the bed, carrying the surprise he's been keeping close to his chest all night.

Catching you keep tossing and turning on the bed, he scoops you his arm and holds you close, he knows how much you like being cuddled.

"Cold," you murmur with eyes closed.

Chan hurriedly pulls the duvet up to your chest and affectionately kisses your bare shoulder, "Is it warm enough?"

"Mmh," you hum in answer.

He's aware that you're barely awake and probably wouldn't remember having this conversation with him the next morning, but he's been meaning to ask you something all evening.

"Baby?"

"Mmh?" Your hum is muffled with your head buried in his chest.

"Do you love me?"

"Mmh."

He looks down to see if you're awake but your eyes are tightly shut, "I love you," he mutters.

"Love you," you mutter back with a sleepy tone.

He chuckles at how you keep replying to him even though you're drunk and half asleep, he can't help but place a kiss on the top of your head.

"What do you think if we get married?" He playfully asks.

"Mmh."

"Do you want to get married to me?"

"Mmh."

"Is it a 'mmh yes' or 'mmh no'?"

"Mmh."

Chan laughs again and rewards you with another kiss on your forehead for being so cute. Even though tonight doesn't turn out the way he wanted, he still appreciates it as it is, another precious day shared with you.

"Will you marry me, baby?" He asks, while

"Mmh," you reply with another hum but this time along with a subtle nod.

He then takes the box he's been keeping in his jacket pocket all night and takes out the ring. Slowly, he puts the ring into your ring finger and then places a kiss on it.

"You can't take back your answer, you hear me?" He warns you.

"Mmh."

Chan has said it before but he didn't expect to meet you in a dating show and finds the one he's looking for in you and everything seems to fall into place ever since, it feels as if he's fated to be with you which assures him that he made the right decision to propose you.

But it seems like Chan has to try again tomorrow.

-

The morning sun blinds you when you open your eyes and you immediately close them again.

Your hand flies to your head as it's pounding from all the drinking last night and the alcohol evaporates through the pores of your skin.

"Oh, God!" You mumble with your hand rubbing on your temple.

The more you shift on the bed, the more you feel sick and you unintentionally wake up the man lying next to you. He scoots closer to you and looks at you through his half-shut eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a deep voice.

"Not okay at all," you groan, putting away the hair stuck to your sweaty face.

He props his elbow against the mattress, "Headache, mmh?"

You nod as you massage the side of your head as much as you can to lessen the pain.

"I'll get you something for the headache, okay?" He says with his voice heavy with sleep.

"Yes, please?" You whine.

"Wait a minute, yeah," he says, dragging himself out of the bed half-naked.

He shortly returns with a tube of ibuprofen in his hand and sits on the edge of the bed. Shaking the tube, he manages to take out a pill and hands it to you.

You shove it right into your mouth and take the glass of water from Chan's hand to wash it down. It's a suggestive thought but you already feel so much better.

"You're right..." you mumble.

You slump down and lay back down, "Those wet pussy are dangerous."

Chan chuckles as he rubs his hand up and down your arm then kisses your shoulder, "Now, you learned your lesson," he says.

"How drunk I was last night?" You curiously ask even though you know you wouldn't like the answer.

He sucks air through his gritted teeth and thinks for a moment, "You kept saying it was hot and you started taking your clothes off."

You cringe imagining in your head how you behaved last night while you were drunk out of your mind.

"How embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face with your hands.

"Nah. You were so cute," he adds with a sly grin that showcases his dimples.

"You enjoyed it, huh?" You elbow his side to get back to him.

He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and begins to pepper your neck and face with little kisses. When his lips are about to capture yours, you look the other way.

"I have a really stinky breath right now," you explain, covering your mouth as you speak.

"Since when do I care?" He takes your hand away and leans in again.

You usually wouldn't mind but for this morning with your breath reek from last night's drinking, you quickly dodge away for his sake.

"I seriously need to brush my teeth," you tell him.

And remembering that you didn't clean your face last night, you need to wash up immediately.

"Okay," Chan says with a pout.

To make up for it, you give him a quick peck on the lips and a longer peck on his cheek.

"I'll be back in a minute," you tell him as you get up from the bed.

It's horrifying to see your makeup melted and smudged, you're surprised that Chan is not disgusted already. You thoroughly brush your teeth and finish it with a cup of mouthwash.

You wipe your face with a damp towel to remove the excess makeup and scoop cold water to splash your face with. All the time you're standing in front of the sink and looking into the mirror, you've been seeing something different about you but can't tell what it is.

It's when you put your hand under the running water to scoop some more water you finally notice it, a ring on your finger.

Thinking that you're still slightly drunk or hallucinating, you bring your hand close to your eyes to inspect the ring, it has a beautiful teardrop-shaped diamond on it and it's on your ring finger so does this mean...

"Baby?"

You hear Chan's faint reply to your call from the bedroom, "Yeah?"

You can't seem to fathom your thoughts into words and end up calling him again, "Baby?"

"Yes?" He answers again.

With your eyes stuck looking at the ring, you walk back to the bedroom without drying your face first. You hold your hand up and show it to him.

"Did you see this?" You ask with a bewildered look on your face.

Chan is slyly smiling as he watches you get on the bed and sit in front of him, "Yes."

Not close enough to you, you decide to sit on his lap facing him, "Is it like... uh..."

Probably from the alcohol you consumed last night, your brain can't seem to compute words and your heart can't stay still inside your chest.

You inhale air to calm yourself, "Is it a gift or.... uh, something else? Something I don't know happened last night?"

Chan is grinning ear to ear, he seems excited to tell which one it is to you. He rests his hands on each side of your waist then says, "What do you think?"

"Whichever it is, I'm going to give you head for it," you playfully answer.

He chuckles with his tongue slightly sticking out from the corner of his mouth, "It is what you think it is," he cryptically says.

"I think you just can't wait to get a head from me," you joke again.

He laughs again and you gently hit his chest from beating around the bust, "Just tell me what it is," you whine.

He takes your hand and holds it, rubbing the diamond on the ring with his thumb, "Since I met you, I get this feeling that I couldn't love anyone else this much except for you like I have this much love inside me and it's only there for you."

You tip your head to the side as you intently listen to him talking his heart out.

"I'm stuck with you... in the best way," he remarks with a light chuckle, "and I think we may as well..."

It's endearing to see how he's slightly nervous and excited at the same time. You lean in close and tease him, "May as well what?"

He chuckles again and licks his lips, "We may as well get married. What do you think?"

You place your hand on the nape of his neck, "Of getting married? To you?"

"Yeah," he answers with a nervous sigh slips out of his mouth.

You brush the soft curls on the back of his head as you stare into his brown eyes and try to fathom your feelings into words, "Oh, baby... All I ever wanted is having all your love just for me," you playfully say.

You hold the side of his face and see that his eyes are pooling with fondness as they gaze into you, you get that fluttering feeling inside you.

Oh, you love him so much and you also think you couldn't love someone as much as you love him.

"I think I'll never get enough of it, I need it for the rest of my life," you continue.

Chan takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he's about to ask you, "Will you marry me, my love?"

There's only one right answer to that, one that you know for sure you'll never regret.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes... " You peck his lips again and again for every yes you give him.

The last peck lasts the longest that you run out of breath and gasp for air when you let go, "A thousand times, yes."

Chan brings your head close to him so he can kiss you, kisses you so hard yet so gentle that you can feel the emotions he puts into it.

It's one of those moments where you feel like you and him are the only ones existing in this world. It's just you and him, encased in this moment forever.

When the kiss breaks, you melt into his hug and feel your hearts beating so close to each other as you hold him close.

"I love you, baby," he mutters with a rub on your back and a haste kiss on your neck.

You lift your head from the crook of his neck and look at him as you say those three words back to him, "And you know I love you too," you steadfastly say.

Chan just can't have enough of it the first time so he crashes his lips onto you again and his arms are tightly wrapped around you as if he tries to crush your body.

The kiss takes things further as you start grinding on him and when your lips aren't on his, you place slobbering kisses on his neck knowing how much he likes them.

While you're busy kissing him all over, Chan reaches for your back to unclasp your bra and takes it off of you. He grabs you by the waist and dives right into the valley of your breasts.

You look down to watch as he takes your breasts into his mouth in turns, switching between sucking and fondling them.

Your lips eventually land on his again, kissing him hard before going down to keep your promise. You pull his hardening member out of its confine and repeatedly stroke it.

Chan lifts your chin to place a kiss on your lips before you lower your mouth on him, taking his cock into your mouth and sucking on it.

You compensate the rest of his length you can take with your hand. You sync your hand and your mouth to give him the utmost pleasure.

He gathers all of your hair in his hand, making a makeshift ponytail, and holds it away from your face so he can see how you take his cock in your mouth.

"Mmh... just like that, baby," he breathlessly mutters to you.

"Keep going, yeah," he mutters again, throwing his head to the back in pleasure.

He keeps muttering sweet praises to you as you pleasing him with your mouth and once in a while, staring at him with your mouth full of him.

"You know how to please me, mmh?"

"You're so good at it, baby."

You know you're doing the right thing when he starts tugging at your hair harder and his breath becomes erratic. Continuing with your hand, you keep the pace knowing that he's close to his release.

"Cum for me, baby," you seductively say.

You maintain eye contact with him with your hand relentlessly pumping his cock, leading him to his high until the white of his cum spurts out of the tip, making streaks on your chest and chin.

His cum feels hot and sticky on your skin, he uses his boxer to wipe it clean for you, not wasting time crashing his lips against yours after that.

"Why are you so good at making me feel good, mmh?" He takes you down the bed and pins you under.

He has his lips constantly pressing on you, kissing you so hard that you're struggling to either kiss him back or take a breath in between.

He breaks the kiss only to kiss you elsewhere, down the column of your neck, and eventually presses his mouth close to your ear.

"I'd like to have my wet pussy now, please," he sweetly whispers, making you tingle inside.

As if he needed your permission, he pulls your underwear down and out of your legs, not wait another moment to dive into your wet cunt.

There's no doubt that he knows his way around you, making you arch your back to seek more of that delicious lick of his tongue between your folds and sends his nose pressed on your clit, but there's one thing you want more than his skillful mouth.

Failing to stop him a couple of times, you tug at his hair a little too hard to finally get his attention. Chan lifts his head, looking at you with his mouth and chin glistening with your essence.

"Want you inside me, baby," you sweetly ask.

He comes at you, hovering inside you to press his wet mouth on you, "Want me inside you, mmh?"

You let him kiss you again before telling him what you really want, "Want you to make love to your fiancé," you say with a smile.

"Fiancé, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

It seems to only hit him that you are his fiance, "Fuck yeah you are my fiance."

You wonder how he gets this hard even though he has just cum a few moments ago, you can feel how stiff he is when he enters you. You moan at how good it feels to finally have him inside you.

"You're so hard, baby," you whine as you sloppily kiss his mouth.

Your head falls onto the pillow, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled by him, "So hard, mmh... so good," you

Chan puts your legs up and against him, holding them close as he starts thrusting into you. You grip the sheet underneath you as each thrust launches you to the back of the bed.

He slows down the pace and puts your legs around his waist, lowering himself onto you so he suffocates you with more kisses as his hips pulsate into you.

The gaze he gives you is affectionate and soft, in contrast to his slow yet deep thrusts. He is indeed making love to you, putting all of him into it, and you feel as if you became one, body and soul.

-

Chan sets everything on the dining table, the cake and the bouquet of flowers which he has now put in a pitcher filled with water to keep it from withering.

You finally out of the bedroom after hours of showering, dressing up, and doing your make-up to get ready for the video call for the show reunion.

"Oh, you prepared this?" You gasp, seeing the little surprise on the dining table.

"If you weren't so drunk last night, you would have seen it," he sneers with eyes squinted.

You chuckle at that and come up to him, putting your arm around his waist, "I'm sorry I ruined your surprise," you sincerely apologize along with a sweet peck on his lips.

"I'll forgive you if you let me take pictures of you and that ring on your finger to let the world know that you're taken," he requests with a sly smile dancing on his face.

You chuckle again and enthusiastically agree to this request, "With pleasure!"

Chan takes countless of photos of you with the surprise he prepared for you and countless more of you together, showing off the dainty ring on your finger.

"Should we share it with the group?" He asks.

There's a group chat of everyone from the retreat and you're still in contact with them through it. It's a good idea but you want to hold that plan for a bit since there's someone more deserving to know the news first.

"Maybe later after the video call?"

Chan considers it for a moment and then nods, "Yeah, I think so too."

You reach for the bottle of champagne and hold it out to him, "What about having a toast?"

"Only if you promise not to get drunk," he jokingly says.

"Oh, my God! Let it go already," you dramatically sigh while Chan hugs you from the back and kisses your neck.

You clink your glasses of wine together, having a toast to your engagement and having a little celebration, eating the cake right away with forks.

"Is it the time already?" You ask, shoving another spoonful of cake into your mouth.

Chan checks the time on his laptop screen and confirms with a nod, "Yep. It's time!"

-

HOST: Next up on my hot seat is the couple whose relationship was as sexually charged as it was fiscally reckless. Before we talk to them, let's take a look at some of their best bits.

[Video plays]

HOST: Hi, lovebirds!

YOU & CHAN: Hi, hi! [Waves hands]

YOU: Lovely to see you!

HOST: I see that you guys are together. Where is your location?

YOU: Take a guess! [Smiles]

CHAN: Yeah, take a guess.

HOST: Er... maybe I'm projecting it too much but it would be good news to know you guys are... in... Australia?

YOU & CHAN: [Applause]

HOST: [Exhales] Oof... What a relief to know that you guys are together at the beginning of the interview but I think we can safely say that almost everyone in the world is now watching your love story unfold.

YOU & CHAN: [Nods]

HOST: So where are you guys now in your relationship? Like... what has happened since the retreat?

YOU: [Turns to Chan] Want me to answer it or...

CHAN: Yeah, you.

YOU: Chris and I, came off the retreat and Chris went with me and stayed with me for a couple of days.

HOST: Didn't you guys plan on going to Australia together after the retreat?

YOU: We did. Then I got a call for work so I had to postpone it.

HOST: Was it like being away from each other? Because you guys can't seem to keep yourself away from each other in the show [laughs] How are you guys making it work?

CHAN: I obviously wanted to stay longer but I had a few things I need to work on too. The long-distance thing didn't put that much strain... it wasn't easy but we managed.

YOU: Right. We managed. We did alright, I guess [laughs] CHAN: We video call each other a lot.

YOU: And always sending nudes to each other.

HOST: [Eyes widen] Oh, wow!

YOU & CHAN: [Laughs]

HOST: And now you're back together, in Australia!

YOU: [Nods] Yes.

HOST: What did you guys do? Tell us all about it.

YOU: It's been an absolute blast. I had so much fun. I met his family, went sightseeing, tried all of his favorite foods, met his friends—

CHAN: She had too much fun, in fact [chuckles]

HOST: Whatever kind of fun that is I hope you've done it responsibly and safely [squints eyes]

YOU: To be honest, I got drunk last night and I had the worst hangover a few hours ago. Thankfully, this man [points at Chan] took care of me well.

CHAN: She had too much wet pussy.

HOST: Excuse me, wet what?

CHAN: It's an Australian thing, it's the name of a drink here. She got drunk on that.

HOST: Sounds like a fun drink.

YOU: You should try it. It's delicious.

HOST: I want to but I don't know if I'll ever find myself bold enough to say that to the bartender [laughs]

YOU & CHAN: [Laughs]

HOST: So... I do have to bring up a couple of sticky things. Uhm... first is Mac. Do you have any regrets about going on that date with Mac?

YOU: Uh... [glances at Chan] [Clears throat] I regret how flirtatious it got. It was really hard to watch that back because I was like... did I really say that? I was nervous about how Chris would react at that moment.

CHAN: Honestly, I hated to have that part included in our best bits [Shrugs]

HOST: [Cackles]

CHAN: But I was more than proud of her after it once I watched the whole thing.

HOST: We'll quickly move on from that and onto the future. I want to know about the future of you two. Have you got anything you want to share with us about... future plans maybe?

CHAN: Well, we've been looking for a place together and... also... at rings [Giggles]

HOST: [Gasps] Oh, my God! It's so happening! Has the question been popped yet?

CHAN: [Looks at you] We may as well, yeah?

YOU: [shows off ring] He already did!

HOST: Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I don't know how to react, it has never happened before!

YOU: Just so you know he proposed to me this morning, like literally a few hours ago.

HOST: We need the details. Please!

YOU: Well, remember that he said I was drunk, right? [Laughs] he prepared this surprise with a cake and flowers, he initially planned to propose last night but that didn't go as planned so he tried again this morning.

HOST: And you said yes?

YOU: He obviously knew I wanted to marry him [smiles]

HOST: [gleefully laughs] YES! I'm loving this so much.

CHAN: I couldn't imagine being with anyone else [smiles]

YOU: He's just so cute [smiles]

HOST: You are aware that Lana's rules no longer apply. You guys can totally kiss right now.

YOU & CHAN: [Kisses]

HOST: [Coos] I kind of in love with this love story right now. Oh, wait, were we the first to hear about this?

YOU: We want Lana to be the one who knows about this.

CHAN: And obviously to everyone who is rooting for us [smiles]

HOST: Lana, girl, you should hold a wedding for them! The first Too Hot To Handle wedding.

YOU: Lana sponsor us, please? [Laughs]

CHAN: Jokes aside, we thank Lana for bringing us together and—

YOU: That's true.

CHAN: In case you don't know, Lana is doing God's work [chuckles]

HOST: Are you going to celebrate it with more wet pussy?

YOU: [Laughs] Yeah, that's actually a great idea.

HOST: How about you, Chris?

CHAN: I just had it this morning [Holds in laughter]

YOU: [Covers his mouth] [laughs]

HOST:... OH?!

CHAN: I'll probably have it again later at night.

HOST: [Blinks eyes] Oh... I expect nothing less from you guys.

YOU & CHAN: [Laughs]

HOST: Oh, my gosh, you guys! It's been incredible talking to you both. I wish you nothing but the best.

YOU: Aw... thank you. It was a really great reunion [Lightly claps]

CHAN: Thank you, Lana. Thank you, everyone [Waves hand]

YOU: Much love [Blows kisses]

-

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taglist: @svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @darkypooo @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skzhoe4life @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #too hot to handle series #seospicy smut

[mhsdatgo]

By the way, you can say you hate characters and STILL admit that they were abused or harassed. There's literally nothing wrong. Denying it or romanticizing it because of a strange kink of yours won't make your hate any less evident, trust me.

Rhaenyra was abused. She's continuously taken advantage of, and brushed away the moment she isn't needed anymore. And she experiences this first hand with her own father, who completely ruins motherhood for her when she grows up watching Aemma get impregnated and either miscarry or have the baby be stillborn or die in the cradle. If Viserys had been by her side as a supporter to her claim since the start, he wouldn't have gotten Aemma pregnant again and again in the pursuit of a male child. He wouldn't have married Alicent for the same reason. Even after, the only reason why he still stands by her side, and it's time the fandom accepts this, it's solely because of his grief and guilt, because Rhae is the only remnant of Aemma.

And there it starts. Firstly, groomed and left alone naked and alone by her uncle in a brothel. Secondly, slept with Criston Cole (although she did coerce him, that's still a literal TEENAGER) then she's married to a gay man and still approached super young by her new bodyguard and just one year later she's started giving birth to his children. (Side note: FUCK Rhaenyra x Harwin. FUCK with reverb. With hard K.)

And up to this point, most fan agree that she's had a shitty life, although I don't agree with some of her choices. (like her treatment of Criston Cole and the bastards, not because I'm some kind of bigot, but because passing bastards as trueborn in THAT precise world sets them up for failure, not being legally deserving of a thone DOES NOT mean me hating them. That's for another post.)

To top it all off, she meets her uncle again, and there starts the fanfic self insert. They have sex on a beach the day of Laena's funeral, the only one of the three wives he's ever been canonically loyal to (FUCK you writers) and fans think it's soulmates meeting again or sum shit. They subtly threaten Laenor to fake his death or actually die (that's what they were trying to do, cope harder) and marry mere days after the death of Laena.

Yes, all cute and romantic (for Dumbnyras twats) but literally, has it done anything good? For Rhaenyra or like, anyone else? It just brought Daemon closer to the line of succession. Literally. That's all the good it has done.

Fast forward to ep 10. How do I even start with this? Only Jace seems to be on Rhaenyra's side. It's clear he only obeys to Daemon out of fear and is scared to talk back to him. Meanwhile, he COMPLETELY disregards his wife's, and by his faction's loyalties, QUEEN's, orders, he ignores her wails of pain as she miscarries their daughter out of pure shock and grief for her father's death. He lashes out and chokes her on the same day and people still see him as the malewife to Rhaenyra's girlboss. They're always ready to do award-deserving mental gymnastic to justify this man.

"He was planning war because he wanted to distract himself!!!!" "He only choked Rhae because he was mad at Viserys, he'd never hurt her!!!!!!"

Fuck off. Coming from probably Rhaenyra's #1 hater. Fuck. Off. Don't say you care about her place in the view of men when you're ready to justify shit like this.

This is the same man who runs off and has an affair with a teenager, and then prefers going on and having a badass death instead of joining his wife and children who need him in King's Landing.

Do I like Rhaenyra? No. Do I think that, because of this, she's never been abused, or exploited in any way, in her life? ALSO no. My distaste for her character has NOTHING to do with Viserys, Criston, Daemon, Harwin or literally ANYONE ELSE in her life.

Alicent Hightower time, baby.

My mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my entire bloodline, my Roman Empire. And more. To anyone who thinks of her as nothing but a bitter/jealous girl, go read @feretrumdulcia 's post about this matter cuz there's literally no one I've seen that words it better. (And bub if you're reading, long live you and the way you think.)

https://www.tumblr.com/feretrumdulcia/720746371814195200/i-have-seen-quite-often-that-many-people-consider

Anyone who can read this and argue that Alicent is envious/jealous or bitter, honestly needs to take the heart shaped sunglasses off, get off tumblr and Ao3, learn what media literacy is and start learning how to possess a crumble of it. To us it makes sense to synpathize with both, because we've seen the big picture. To Alicent, Rhaenyra gave her virtue to the man that almost killed her brother, and chose to believe she did not out of trust and maybe nostalgia for her friendship and easier times, only to have her father be blamed and taken away from her as a result.

She has four kids in the span of, how much? Five, six years? Seven at best? Helaena and Aemond are NINE MONTHS APART. Viserys didn't even let her rest after she gave birth to her daughter. And I'm convinced 100% that he kept her as Idk some whore he didn't need to pay for because it's stated that he never wanted Aegon but the son he butchered Aemma for. Why keep on bedding her and forcing children on her when you'd never get what you want from her?

Throughout the series she's called bitter and downright a c*nt for this and that reason. She tries convincing Viserys that Rhae's children are CLEARLY bastards and she's setting herself and them up for failure by committing treason and putting them on the throne? Nah, power hungry, jealous, bitter. She marries Helaena to Aegon as a last resort because she's Valyrian and probably would've received proposals worse than the ones Rhaenyra made that would eventually convince Viserys to give her away? Hates her daughter, abuser, shitty mom. Rhae's sons slit her son's eye out instead of running when they had the chance and she rightfully lashes out? Nah, crazy ass, for the dungeons. She gives money and moon tea to her son's rape victim to ensure she gets a way out and isn't forced to have a baby she doesn't want? Bruh, rape apologist. She goes to Aegon and RIGHTFULLY disciplines him? Abuser. Forced to show her feet to a rancid filthy man to know where her son is? Upholds the patriarchy, hypocrite. She convinces Aegon to start fighting for her family because it's either them or the Blacks and he needs to start putting his life together and fight for them, so she crowns him and makes him King? Treason, deserves death, long live the brothel queens.

Somehow, it is ALWAYS HER FAULT. And those few that admit how wronged she was make fun of her.

CAN SHE FUCKING WIN?! Or y'all just hate her because she isn't Valyrian?

Btw almost all of these arguments are the same for Book!Alicent who I personally believe to be FAR MORE than just a bitter stepmom that hates her stepdaughter. She arguably has more reasons to start a coup against her in the books without that prophecy shit.

TLDR; It's OKAY to hate characters and admit they're abused and taken advantage of at the same time. You don't have a moral high-ground on no one because you hate or love a character instead of the other.

#rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #anti daemyra #anti daemon targaryen #anti daemyra stans #team green #team black #anti viserys i targaryen #anti larys strong

[aww-canon-no]

Steddie Fic- 9 Stops

9 Stops

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rated: Everyone (but with kissing)

Deaf Eddie, newly deaf Steve, meet cute, modern fic, no upside down

Summary:  And holy shit this might be his chance because…Yeah.  Yep.

Yes.

Steve is kissing him.  It’s warm and better than he imagined, and it’s really, really scary because Eddie has never liked someone so much in his entire life and God, if he wakes up and this is a dream he’s going to fucking lose it.

Note: You have all been so nice?  Im crying?  This fandom is so soft.  Posting one more Tumblr one-shot tonight.  This time with kissing.I gave you Deaf Steve so now have Deaf Eddie/deaf Steve (big D little d, not an innuendo)

Word Count: 2400

*** 

The train is quiet.  In a literal sort of way, everything is quiet for Eddie Munson who was born deaf and remained deaf despite all the praying and laying hands and shit that adults were always doing at his parents’ church when he was little.

That was before CPS got involved and Wayne stepped in and made things better.

But in a more metaphorical way, the train is quiet because—what most people don’t understand—the Deaf community is loud.  And he means that in every way it’s possible to mean that.  Everything is turned up to max volume so they can feel it.  When they get together it’s big gestures and faces all twisted up in expression and wagging tongues and stomping feet and…it’s a lot.

It ain’t your momma’s sweet little interpreter at Sunday Service kind of deaf.

He doesn’t regret the job working at the center, but he takes the train home instead of carpooling with the other guys because it’s going to get loud again when he meets up with the rest of Corroded Coffin for band practice.  They met at school when Eddie was finally allowed to leave the nonsense of mainstream education he couldn’t actually understand behind him.

Garret wanted to call the band something like Deaf Devils which Eddie flat out refused because he will not—under pain of death or torture—ever be obvious or predictable.

Also why he takes the train.

At least, why he used to.

Now he takes the train because he takes the train.  The Hair, Eddie’s been calling him.  It’s a sign name that Steve Harrington doesn’t actually know about since he doesn’t interact with Eddie.  Eddie doesn’t do intake or adult shit.  He mostly works with newly deafened teens, or teens that have come from hearing homes and are finally allowed to get more involved in the Deaf community.

They call it socializing but it ’s mostly a way for Eddie to be able to run the most badass DnD campaigns known to man and get paid for it.  It’s maybe the sweetest job he’s ever had and there’s no chance in hell he’s ever giving it up.

But he noticed Steve when he showed up—looking like a scared, lost little lamb the way they all do when their world has been flipped upside down.  And Eddie does feel sympathy for him.  Steve looks like the kind of guy Eddie hate. The kind of jock that liked to push Eddie into trash cans and lockers because—surprising absolutely no one—Deaf school had preppy jock assholes too.

So Eddie mostly avoids Steve and his polo shirts and his annoyingly glorious hair for a really long time.  And he definitely doesn’t get soft on the inside whenever he sees the look of frustration on Steve’s face when he comes out of the ASL level one class.

Eddie remembers it pretty well, but not well enough to relate.  He also never lost a sense so he’s not quite sure what Steve’s going through.  

But he’s not a monster.  He feels.

He feels too much sometimes.

He kind of wants to tell Steve that it gets not just a little better, but so fucking much better.  That it’s a big deal that Steve came to the center because most people his age just get some metal and magnets slapped inside their skulls and hope for the best and move on without realizing they don’t actually have to choose between one or the other.

They don’t have to lose one to gain.

Or something poetic like that.

He needs to write that down.  It sounds like it could be a pretty decent song lyric.

Anyway, Eddie used to take the two o’clock train, but now he pushed it to three because that’s when Steve shows up at the station with his head down and his hearing aids off and his fingers all twisting in his lap like he’s trying to quietly practice everything he learned that day.  Eddie notices the shaking, and he notices the dark bags under Steve’s eyes.

Steve doesn’t notice him though.  He’s not quite there yet.  At that place where sight replaces sound naturally, and he starts noticing everything around him without waiting to hear it.  

He can’t help but keep his eyes on Steve, even squashed between two dudes—one of whom is eating legit an actual to-go box full of fettuccini alfredo.

And of course that happens to be the moment Steve finally looks up and sees him.  After six weeks, Steve finally notices.

His lips twitch.  Eddie braces himself because he expects Steve to be maybe angry.  It’s obvious Steve recognizes him.

Then Steve raises a hand—a small and subtle thing.  ‘Hi.’

Eddie snorts.  ‘Hi.’

Steve goes on a face journey which Eddie reads like one of his favorite novels and in spite of himself, he smiles wider.

‘You think this guy would freak out of I took a bite of his food?’ Eddie chances.

There’s no way in hell Steve’s that far along in his lessons, but he watches as Steve’s lips curve around a couple of the words he knows.

‘Don’t understand.  Sorry,’ Steve finally signs, back—still subtle like he doesn’t want to be noticed.  Then he yawns, the kind that Eddie knows probably cracks his jaw.

He stands up without realizing it and moves across to sit beside his not-friend.  He sticks out his fist and they knock knuckles—a fairly safe greeting.

Steve sighs.  ‘Sorry,’ he signs again.

‘I know,’ Eddie tells him.  ‘Give it time.’

Steve must have learned that one from his teacher saying it over and over to his students.  It’s not your average ASL class.  It’s not hearing people trying to get a credit, or start a new job or something.  It’s all people in Steve’s shoes trying to learn how to communicate again without making their brain feel like it’s full of static electricity.

‘You’re tired,’ Eddie signs.

Steve nods, then remembers to respond with a fist.  ‘Yes’

Eddie laughs and shakes his head.  ‘What’s your stop?’  He signs it slowly and fingerspells some so Steve will understand.  Train-STATION, yours, which?

Steve licks his lips, then lifts a hand, pinky touching his thumb.  ‘Sixth AVE.’

Eddie nods decidedly, then shuffles so close their thighs touch.  Steve startles, but Eddie just reaches over and tugs Steve’s head until it falls against him.  ‘Sleep,’ he tells him.  They have nineteen stops to go—and that’s nine past Eddie’s.  But he’s done worse things than ride the train all evening.

Steve stiffens like he’s going to put up a fight for a second, and then his body relaxes.  He’s asleep before stop four.  He’s snoring so loud that Eddie can feel it rumbling against his side by stop seven.

By stop sixteen Eddie hates himself for what he has to do.

At stop eighteen he gently prods Steve who wakes up with a jolt and stares around like he doesn’t know where he is.  Their gazes lock, then his shoulders sag.

‘Thank you,’ he signs.  His fingers are nice.  Lovely, in fact, the way they tip from his chin.  Watching him blossom into the language will be a real treat.

If Eddie’s invited in.

***

So.

Train naps become a thing.

Eddie meets him at the entrance to the station, and Steve tells him one or two facts about his day with his growing vocabulary—and he probably picks up some colorful commentary and slang—and some of Eddie’s home-grown home-signs which is alright by him.  Just…hopefully he doesn’t get yelled at in class for using them.

Because then Eddie will get yelled at later. Scott Clarke will definitely know where they came from.  But it’s kind of hard to care because Steve scrunches up his face when he’s processing something new.

And Eddie’s halfway in love and he’s not interested at all in pumping the brakes, even if Steve seems pretty goddamn straight and will only break Eddie’s heart in the end.

***

It’s twelve weeks now and Steve’s starting to look better.  A little more rested.

It’s a Tuesday the first time Steve doesn’t fall asleep, but he also doesn’t put space between them, either.  He stares at his hands for a while, then he looks up at Eddie.

‘I,’ he starts.  ‘Went deaf overnight.’

That…’sss a surprise.  That’s not super common to just randomly go deaf.  At least, not in someone as young as Steve who can’t be more than twenty-five.  Not that Eddie hasn’t seen stranger things, but still.

He can tell Steve’s not done with his story.

‘Dr told me I had three tumors and I would go deaf eventually,’ he signs it Deaf-future-later like he’s not sure which one is right and Eddie just lets him have it.  His brain’s interpreting it juuuust fine.  ‘I was sad, but okay.’

Eddie nods.  That-that.

Steve smiles and bites his lip before letting it go and it’s all spit-slick and shiny and Eddie wants to taste it so badly.  ‘I fell,’ he signs.

Eddie clarifies that he means he physically fell.

Steve touches the back of his head.  ‘Nineteen STITCHES.  CONCUSSION.’

Eddie winces.  He’s has his fair share of head injuries from mosh pits and other stupid shit, but those were injuries he all-but chose to have.  Steve looks devastated.

‘Dizzy,’ he signs.  ‘VERTIGO.’

Eddie shows him the sign for that and Steve copies it.

‘I couldn’t walk.  Tried everything.  Fail.’

Eddie winces again.  ‘Sorry.’

Steve shrugs.  ‘They removed tumors.  Hearing was gone.’

Eddie tries to think about what life might be like if he just woke up one day and lost a sense.  And okay it would be different since he was already Deaf but he still gets it.  As best as he can, anyway.

He sighs and turns, cupping Steve’s cheek.  Steve leans into the touch like he’s starved for it, and God knows Eddie is, so he’s not in a hurry to pull back.  He grazes his thumb under Steve’s eye.  ‘Sleeping better?’

Steve laughs.  Eddie has some—what the doctors call residual hearing which seems a little ridiculous since Eddie was born this way, but whatever.  It’s enough to hear—just barely—the rumble of Steve’s laugh over the faint noise of the train.  Mostly he feels it against his hand though.

‘Yeah.  Better,’ he repeats.

Eddie sighs, but before he can mourn the loss of their routine, Steve shuffles closer and lays his head down.  Eddie knows he doesn’t sleep, but this is good too.

***

For the first time in six months, Eddie doesn’t come to his ASL class.  And it’s not like Eddie’s waiting…

Which is a lie.  He’s definitely waiting.

The kids give him epic and endless shit for being distracted—to the point he gives up and lets Mike start his own campaign while he paces the room and feels all kind of itchy all over and he hates it.  He hates it so much.

The kids all go home eventually and Eddie gets on the train at three and he stares at the empty seat that Steve should be in and it feels like there’s a sudden canyon or maybe a dark hole that leads into some alternate dimension that stole these moments away from him.

His stop comes and he almost doesn’t get off until he remembers he doesn’t need to wait nine stops past, and nine stops back.  His knees are kind of shaky as he brushes past people and feels the silence kind of profoundly for the first time in maybe ever.

And then the world rearranges.

Steve’s there, leaning against the wall near the stairs with his arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face that’s both terrifying and really, really beautiful.  Eddie feels like he might choke on his own tongue as he stumbles to a halt.

‘Nine.’

Eddie stares at Steve’s hand thinking maybe he’s got the wrong sign.

Then he does it again.  ‘Nine.’

Eddie looks behind him, then at Steve again.

‘Your stop is before mine.’

Eddie flushes.  Hard.  So hard he gets a little dizzy.  ‘Yes.’

Steve swallows hard.  ‘Why?’

Eddie flops his arms and his whole body kind of moves with it, and he wants to pace and be loud with his body but they’re in public.  Like, hearing public.  Someone will definitely call the cops and tell them he’s on drugs, especially since he tends to vocalize a little loudly when he’s uncomfortable and it unsettles hearing people’s delicate little ears.

He takes a breath.  ‘You were tired.’

Steve blinks at him kind of incredulously.  ‘I was tired,’ he repeats.  His face doesn’t give Eddie any indication that it’s a question but…

Maybe it is?

‘You were tired,’ he repeats.

Steve pushes away from the wall.  Stalks a step closer.  Then suddenly his hand is on Eddie’s cheek bare and warm and soft, and he mirrors that gesture, swiping a thumb under Eddie’s eye.  ‘Where is your shoulder?’

‘My—’ Eddie starts.  Stops.  His hand hovers in the air.  His shoulder.  His own Eddie?  ‘I don’t need one.’

‘Bullshit,’ Steve shoots back at him.  It’s an older, more archaic sign he definitely got from Scott, but it hits the mark.

Eddie sighs and shrugs again.  ‘You were tired,’ he just repeats.  He needs Steve to get it.

And oh.  Maybe he does, because he’s pushing in closer again and his hand has fallen to the back of Eddie’s neck and there’s absolutely no signing space between them now.  Steve’s lips move like maybe he’s talking to himself—probably a habit he’ll never totally lose, but Eddie likes it.  He likes the way Steve’s lips dance and he wants to feel them.

And holy shit this might be his chance because…

Yeah.  Yep.

Yes.

Steve is kissing him.  It’s warm and better than he imagined, and it’s really, really scary because Eddie has never liked someone so much in his entire life and God, if he wakes up and this is a dream he’s going to fucking lose it.

But when it ends, Steve is still warm, and still perfect, and still touching him.

‘Nine stops,’ Steve manages to sign.

Eddie laughs.  ‘Eighteen, if you count the ones on the way back.’

He feels Steve’s groan as he rolls his eyes, then he grins as Steve surges back in to kiss him.

Kiss him.

Kiss him.

#Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Deaf Eddie Munson #Stranger Things fanfic #Steddie #Steddie Fanfic #steve x eddie

[hoonvrs]

SECOND BUTTON — n. riki

PAIRING riki × gnr

GENRE fluff, confessions, coming of age

WARNING none

W. COUNT 0.5k

S. NOTES happy bday to my baby <//3 cant believe he’s growing up

finishing high school is a bittersweet feeling.

realising that you’ll never be in the same school as all your friends anymore, that you won’t be seeing them five times a week when everyone moves on with their lives attending different colleges. safe to say it isn’t the happiest day in your eyes.

halls filled with students crying and hugging, some with markers in their hands as they write their goodbye messages on each other's t-shirts, their own covered in colourful messages.

everyone roaming the buildings one last time as a high school student before they leave to officially enter their adult stages. thankfully exams were over so the weight on your shoulders had lifted slightly, making sure to cherish the last few moments you had in this stage of life.

“guess what? i heard that kei is going to give hana his second button,” your friend gossiped, filling the whole group with gasps.

“poor guy, she’s definitely going to reject him.”

every year there would always be a select group of boys handing their crushes the second button of their uniform, a common confession practice at the end of high school year. there’s something sweet about it, giving the person you like the button closest to your heart instead of outright saying it.

it feels youthful, too shy to speak but brave enough to do something so bold in front of the whole school.

so after witnessing keis rejection live, your friends decided to go out to eat not being able to handle the second-hand embarrassment from their classmate. you didn’t make it too far out the school gates before someone called your name.

“yn!”

turning around to see someone running towards you, nishimura riki. everyone knew of riki for his dance skills always shown through the multiple stages and events he holds yearly, and maybe you’d spoken to him a few times but nothing enough to be considered friends.

you can hear your friends mumbling behind you as you walk towards him meeting him halfway, “hi riki, what’s up?”

there’s no denying riki is cute. from the mole adorning his face and his pouty lips, anyone could see he was blessed with looks alongside talent.

“erm—“ you could see him nervously fiddling as he reached for something from his pocket, “i just wanted to give you this.”

in his hands was a single gold button engraved with your school's cherry blossom design. you look up, scanning his uniform to see all his buttons intact except one.

the empty space where his second button once was stared back at you, as riki was starting to feel his adrenaline wear down and embarrassment start to crawl up his body when he noticed your friends a few feet away giggling and talking amongst themselves.

“you don’t have to take it. actually, this is stupid. i’m—“

before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed the button before his hands could close around it, clasping your own around the metal and pulling it closer to your own heart, “thank you riki, i'll text you?”

under different circumstances, you would’ve been worried how red the boy had gotten in the face as he aggressively nodded his head before running back the way he came. 

maybe this next step is sweeter than expected.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss

#saints works ( madewithlove. ) #enhanet #niki drabbles #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki fic #niki fanfic #niki fanfiction #riki drabbles #riki imagines #riki fluff #riki scenarios #riki x reader #riki fanfic #enhypen niki #enhypen drabble #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagine #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen riki #enhypen soft hours #enhypen reactions #enhypen soft thoughts

[tteokdoroki]

Isagi is golden retriever behavior. Tell him to bakr he will do it. Tell him to kneel he will. He will protect you with his whole being even if he seems to be nice guy. He isn’t afraid to throw hand s

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— as close as strangers + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — while at a bar with your sister, a stranger comes to your rescue and he’s not afraid to come to your defence.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, strangers to lovers, meet cute, reader has a younger sister, weird men at bars (harassment kinda? but it’s minor), pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 1.4K.

⭑ notes — thank you nonnie for sending this in!! I got a little itty bit carried away but i hope you like it !! - m.list ✩

unironically, a bar can be one of the most dangerous places on earth. with its overpriced and watered down drinks, loud and disruptive patrons, and not to mention the countless number of men that can’t seem to take a hint. you find the sticky table tops gross and the peanut shells on the floor uncouth but you’re here for your little sister — who wanted no more than drinks and to catch up, filling you in on the details of her latest fling (who she’s sure is the one, despite it being the fifth time) since you returned to Japan.

you work a lot, you travelled abroad for college too so it’s been ages since you’ve last breathed the same air and walked underneath the same sky. you’d feel bad for missing this opportunity to meet someone important in her life while you still had it.

and you love your sister, so while she powders her nose in the bathroom as you both wait for her boy toy, you’ll put up with the stench of beer and the sleazy stranger arms length away from you who just can’t seem to get it through his head that you’re not interested.

“c’mon sweetheart, just one drink. lemme buy you a beer.” the stranger slurs over the top of his own beverage that threatens to spill into you as he encroaches on your personal space. 

shaking your head politely, you lean away. “no thank you. i’m not to keen on beer.” 

“then whas’ your drink of choice, cutie. let me know what i can get’cha.” 

nothing. you refrain from rolling your eyes. nothing that he could afford. grabbing a handful of peanuts to distract yourself, you de-shell them with ease and chew on them to avoid speaking any further. 

“no thank you.” you say plainly, reiterating yourself. 

he still doesn’t seem to understand, cosying up to your side — his alcohol tainted breath cascading over the shell of your ear. “then let’s get out of here, i’ll get you somethin’ you can really enjoy.” 

“i’m waiting on someone.” 

“who? a boyfriend?” 

“yes,” you lie as easy as breathing — you’re almost certain he wouldn’t leave you alone if he found out you were with your sister. “he’ll be here any minute.” 

the stranger lets out a chuff, “i don’t see him, gorgeous girl—“

he reaches for your hand and it causes a wave of uncomfortable goosebumps to rise along your skin. you shudder, hold back a gag, and if only the bartender was closer you could signal for some form of help but you can’t bring yourself to move.

that is until a warm arm slips around your shoulders— and instead of being slimy and unsettling, the presence of this stranger behind you is comforting and safe. “there you are precious,  sorry for being so late, i got caught up with work.” this man’s is smoothe like molten chocolate or rather honey running through your ears, and you find yourself enticed — leaning into him as if he’s a safety net. 

you turn, only just, catching a glimpse of the stranger’s handsome side profile — his skin is golden, glowing as if it had been blessed by the god’s of the son. his eyes are a blue im a shade that you cannot match, it’s almost unreal to you. his hair his soft, his face calm and again, he feels so safe. 

“i missed you,” you breathe the words into existence as if they’re natural, allowing a smile to overtake your features. “it’s okay.” 

the dark haired man gives you a firm nod before looking over your head at the drunkard who had been bothering you. he offers a hand to him. “hi isagi… the boyfriend. do we have a problem, here?” 

you recognise the name from somewhere but say nothing, letting isagi handle the situation from here. 

“n-no sir! i-i’m so sorry i didn’t realise that—“ 

“good,” isagi’s voice lowers an octave, far less welcoming and kind than when he had initially addressed you as your fake boyfriend. “then next time you’ll take a hint and learn to leave women alone when they tell you no the first time. fucking creep.” he spits, squeezing you into his side protectively. 

the stranger’s eyes blow wide and he lowers his head apologetically but you’re too focused on how flustered isagi’s whole act is making you feel. “a-again! i’m really sorry! i’m a huge fan i would never—“ 

“are you just that dense or do i have to repeat myself? scram.” isagi growls once more and does so until the man that had been bothering you flees the scene. within an instant, the tall dark and handsome man jumps away from you with an apologetic smile — and you embarrassingly admit to yourself how much you miss his embrace. “i am so sorry for touching you without asking. i-it’s just that i could see he was making you uncomfortable and no one else was jumping in so i just—“ 

turning around to face isagi fully, you shake your head and offer him your brightest grin. “it’s okay, if it hadn’t been for you i don’t know what would have happened. thank you…”

you pause to give him time and isagi trips over his words to give you his full name. “yoichi. yoichi isagi!” 

you respond with your own name, trying not to dwell on the familiarity of his. 

the pair of you spend the next few minutes chatting about everything and anything. you find out that yoichi likes soccer and has since he was a child. that he was an only child as well, travels a lot and has seen the whole world, though he thinks it gets a little lonely. you shyly admit that you feel the same — especially when work drags you across the globe and away from your family here in Japan.

the flow of your conversation is only interrupted by your little sister emerging from the bathroom excitedly, her nose effectively powdered as she waves an arm at you. “i see you’ve met isagi already!” she beams, sliding into the bar stool on your left while isagi takes your right.

“wait, you two know each other?” you squeak — how mortifying would it be that your younger sibling’s new boyfriend is the man you’ve been crushing on for all of fifteen minutes. “is he…the one?” 

the duo share an amused look over the drinks that your new friend had ordered, your sister shaking you as if to snap you out of your trance of crazy. “god no! isagi is way too polite to be my type. my bachira is a little more adventurous!” she rambles, all love sick like. “no offence yoichi!”

“none taken,” he laughs before focusing all of his attention on you , making you squirm under the surface of his ocean blue eyes. “i’m just here for moral support. bachira was nervous about meeting you so i told him to take a lap around the parking lot to calm down before he came in.” 

“wait bachira— as in meguru bachira? that one player from the blue lock team? i just styled him for my magazine in the US last month? that’s who you’re dating?” you ramble, eyes wide — which only seems to amuse isagi even more.

“uhuh, and this,” your sister grabs you by the shoulders and rotates you to face isagi, who’s cheeks flush red with nervousness. or shyness. “is yoichi isagi. blue lock’s heart and soul and your date for this evening. you’re welcome!” she sings.

“oh my god! i thought i recognised you! s-she used to have posters of you in our room back when bluelock was streaming!” 

“you’re the one that used to kiss them!” 

“you’re the one that’s dating his best friend!” you counter her stubbornly, but her attention is quickly stolen away by the world famous dribbler that slips through the doors — bachira’s own face lighting up when he spots her from across the room. your sister melts, running over and jumping into his arms. you can’t help but swoon, realising that whatever she has going on with bachira is obviously more serious than whatever chance at love she’d had before.

they look happy. you’re happy for her. “they’re cute together, aren’t they?” isagi mumbles, elbowing you gently with the wisps of a smile on his lips. 

“oh yeah, big time.” you agree, taking a sip of your drink as you scoot closer to japan’s beloved striker. “you’re not mad that he swiped her from right beneath your feet?” 

“nah,” yoichi responds simply, scooting closer to you as well. you let your gaze drift over from the happy couple to meet isagi’s fond one, looking down at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. “i’d rather have that kind of happy with the girl who was making out with my merch.” 

you punch isagi in the shoulder out of embarrassment, and when his timbre laughter fills the room — you can’t help but think you’d want that happiness with him too.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi fluff #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #blue lock fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #bllk fluff #yoichi isagi fluff #isagi yoichi fluff #isagi yoichi imagines #isagi imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger

[husbandhoshi]

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)  

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

[gremlingottoosilly]

augh id be such a pathetic incubator for Monster!König. I’m terrified of men irl and he’d make me run for the hills with his height and voice and size and mask so if he had me as his pet human I’d literally just shut down. I’d be way too scared to fight back but I’d be trembling and weeping and trying to plead with him instead. No resistance only terrified sad submission 🥰

If I’m good for him would he pamper me or dress me up all pretty maybe??? Get me a nicer collar and a plush soft thing to hold for comfort??? I’m a singer, I can sing him to sleep or something if he needs something as extra payment!!!! 👉👈🥺

Konig will try to be a good owner for you!! He doesn't have any reason to let you wear clothes, only if you're going outside and he doesn't want his precious wife to catch a cold and suffer((( If you're nice enough and beg him to cover you with something while you're on the base, he will try his best to find you something skimpy, but nice, mostly transparent. Maybe a thin gown, covering you in soft fabrics and cute colors so you would look like a little present, all nice for him. He is using you to taunt other survivor humans - just look at you, so perfect and obedient for him, the only thing you can do is cry and beg him to save your life, it's adorable! You learned how to beg, you are so pretty on your knees when you're asking, pleading with him to save the lives of these random humans he found in the wilds. You'd look at the horrified survivors with tears in your eyes, as you slowly ease yourself onto his giant dick, as you take his eggs one by one, and cover his skin with kisses because he likes to feel your warm body against his.

He calls you his little songbird, makes you sing him to sleep and when he is down with stress and exhaustion. Places you on his lap and wraps his tentacle around your body, using you as a pretty plushie just for him. You're so nice, so smart for a human - you don't resist, just cry and beg him to save your life, this is how all humans should behave! If someone will ever try to free you, some dumb rebels from underground human fractions kidnapping pretty breeder from a monster's colonel...you beg them to just let you go, to not endanger themselves because Konig won't spare anyone who has touched you. Everyone in the compound thinks you're a broken and stupid monster slut, so addicted to the feeling of monster cock forcing its way in your holes, to the weight of eggs in your tummy, that you aren't even a human anymore(( no one understands what danger they are in - Konig can smell you from miles away, he is linked to your body and will never let you go this easily. Poor, dumb thing( He will never let you go out of his sight after he just crushed those dumb rebels - you're getting a very firm collar around your neck, you're getting tossed around at every strategic meeting with him, sobbing on his lap as other monsters are laughing and groping your swollen tummy.

#cod #yandere konig #konig x reader #konig #tw: monster fucking #monster!konig

[dotster001]

Could i request the twst earth thing except they get isekaid in the reader world? How would they act? Or interact with them? You choose the characters!

Summary: Floyd/Jade/Vil/Rook/Lilia

A/N: we'll just say that each one is a separate universe for simplicity's sake. Special thanks to @irrelevantlight @giuliap17 and @fishisahappydog for choosing the characters for me.

To the anon: your idea is really good! And I'm gonna save it for later to make it it's own post

3k followers masterlist

Hopefully Jade gets isekaid with him. If he is, he will pretend to have a leash on his wild brother. I say pretend, because the moment Floyd sees you, Jade will suddenly stop caring about restraining him, and will decide to explore this world's flora and fauna instead.

Floyd gives zero shits about this world. All he knows is that he can feel you in it, and he has to find you. He'll run the whole way, no matter where he spawns in. He'll sprint towards you, and your poor, human self isn't gonna know what hit you when a wall of man bowls you over.

Stop screaming! He's trying to love you! 

If he spawns in with Floyd, half of his time is going to be spent being angry. He knows you're here, but he also has to keep track of his brother who couldn't care less about finding his twins favorite "fictional" character. It's slow progress and it may take him a couple weeks to finally reach you.

Whether he spawns in with Floyd or not, he's going to orchestrate a meet cute between you two. He can't expect you to be thrilled if he swooped in and knew everything about you. So he waits.

One day some asshole accidentally knocks into you, and you nearly fall into the busy street. Luckily two strong arms wrap around your middle and drag you to safety. He asks if you're alright, and insists on taking you for a tea to calm your nerves…and the rest is history.

How interesting….this must be your world! There is no need for him to even process the move. He's traveled many places in his lifetime. This is just a new place to add to his scrapbook!

He also isn't going to rush into a relationship with you. Once he finds you, he's going to make you fall for him. He'll play off his delightful scamp tendencies, and his charming character, and make yu head over heels.

One day you'll confess your feelings for him, and he'll act all surprised. But deep inside he's celebrating another victory for General Lilia, mastermind of the King's army.

You won't even know he's here for a while. He can't be sure if this "move" is permanent or not, so he's going to establish himself. It won't be very hard with his unearthly looks, and winning charisma.

By the time he comes to find you, you'll know who he is. He'll befriend you, and perhaps you'll even confess to him.

And of course he'll say yes. He feels a little bad that he knows everything about you, and you just think he's some random guy who got famous overnight, but it's easier to believe than the truth. Maybe he'll tell you someday. But only if he figures a way back to Twisted Wonderland.

He is in no hurry to find you. Yet. First he wants to explore your environment, figure out how his prey's your environment is so he can understand the survival tactics you use. Once he has those, he can ignore them all.

Now, just because he waited, doesn't mean he's going to do what some of these boys do, and get to know you so you don't freak out.

Nah. What you get is a man in a hat spouting a speech at you about soulmates and true love, and how he can provide for your future life living in a mansion in the woods, with a farm, and ten dogs, and thirteen kids that he just found somewhere….

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