#his kindness has always been there but hes never been good at articulating it. but he tried and he did a good job

[lollytea]

What if Hunter takes off his gloves for the first time during a moment with Willow?? What then??

#huntlow #i am so fixated on whatever hunter's deal is with his own hands #its possible it means absolutely nothing and its possible it means EVERYTHING #lately ive just been seeing the gloves as a representation of hunter's very last emotional barrier #there was his mask cloak uniform and breastplate but all that is gone now #i think when it comes to revealing his face theres a sense of identity #and it can emcompass all forms of love and familiarity. and in this case when the mask first came off he found his first friend in Luz #followed closely by flapjack #but he didnt entirely forget himself in that ep. he made a connection but he was still distanced. still held back. still guarded. #and then when he shed his armor for hexside infiltration and flyer derby he just #let himself get swept away in it. he was happy he was warm he was lighthearted. he had fun and he made a bunch of friends #and then again during that moment where he comforts gus #hes wearing his flyer derby outfit. his armor is gone once again and theres no breastplate to guard his heart #he opens that heart to gus. he makes a sincere attempt to express empathy and compassion. he tries to show gus that he cares about him. #which is HUGE for hunter #his kindness has always been there but hes never been good at articulating it. but he tried and he did a good job #and like. okay so face heart hands. those are the big three in my stupid little brain #and there is something so very vulnerable and intimate about hand imagery #full of romantic undertones if you will #and there HAS already been an emphasis on huntlow and interlaced fingers so its like. hm. #anyway im bullshitting symbolism that isnt actually there i know im aware #but i am manifesting that when those gloves come off willow will be involved #the hands are willows jurisdiction

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez #yeosang ff #yeosang fic #yeosang smut

[queerfables]

The thing is, Crowley and Aziraphale's problem isn't miscommunication. I'm not the first person to point this out but I see enough posts taking this framing at face value that I feel it's worth saying again.

If Crowley and Aziraphale sat down and talked everything out calmly and rationally without hiding anything and while validating each other's feelings, they would still end up exactly where they are. Because they fundamentally DO NOT AGREE about the problem they're facing or how to address it.

Crowley should have told Aziraphale about apocalypse take two, sure, yeah, but if he had, Aziraphale would have seen it as just another reason to go back to Heaven. He finds out about the second coming and he's horrified but just as resolved in his decision.

Flip side: Aziraphale might have had a hundred good reasons for wanting Crowley to come back with him, none of which boiled down to thinking he was worth less as a demon, but it wouldn't have mattered how eloquently he articulated them. It was always going to be a deal breaker for Crowley.

To be slightly more nuanced about it, there are some things they've been avoiding saying that they really did need to put into words, even though in my opinion they both kind of knew it, already. But the painful fact is that their fight is that in action. Sometimes communicating with someone means exposing the failure points between you (and if you suspect that's going to be the case, that's a very human reason to avoid doing it).

At best, they could maybe have parted with less collateral damage to each other. But the real tragedy of their story is that there was no other way this could have gone. For a long time, their love has been thwarted by the external forces keeping them apart, but also - Aziraphale hasn't Fallen, and Crowley has never expressed any desire to return to Heaven. And just like I think they must have had at least some understanding of the depth of their feelings for each other, I think they must have understood the implications of that too. They're on opposite sides, and even with the danger, it's all very exciting and romantic - until they have to face the fact that the convictions they've held for millennia put them on opposite sides.

So if they're going to move forward together, they can't just talk about it. Crowley's right, actually, they've been talking since before the beginning of time. It isn't enough to understand each other. Together, they're going to have to change. That tentative middle ground between them is going to have to become a place they set down roots, and learn to choose and trust in even when everything else is falling apart.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #fable talks good omens

[yok00k]

truth or dare

pairing: hellokittylover/coquette!oc x boxer!jk

genre: angst, fluff

‧₊˚🎧⊹♡— are you playing? truth or dare

synopsis: rumor has it that jungkook is entertaining other girl(s)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: angsty, oc got: attachment issues, daddy issues [like the author], etc. oc is also kinda dumb (and broken) but she’s figuring shit out, lowkey she’s that bitch, jealous!oc, side characters were kinda introduced, mention of jk making out w/ another girl, jk’s character is complex: one sec he’s a playboy and another sec he’s down bad for oc?, open ending, unedited

a/n: this took place when jk and oc were in 2 month situationship and still getting to know one another! so their boundary wasn’t clear..

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Everything seems to be a dream as soon as you wake up on another glorious day.

you’ve never felt so energized like this before. it’s a little strange to say but, you even feel like you’ve been reborn for some unknown reason. maybe today is going to be a good day for you.

well let’s see.. you’re off from work plus you basically got nothing to do other than clean your room a little for a little bit and to just chill around!

one of the first things you do as soon as you wake up is stare at your phone, particularly to see if jungkook has sent you a message yet as he always never fails to not. a simple yet sweet “good morning pretty :)” and “did my baby girl sleep well?” can add a bright color to your day. it shows that he cares and that he’s thinking about you too.

the anticipated message from your comfort person unexpectedly did not pop out in your notification. it kind of threw you off. jungkook never misses sending you at least one message, precisely at 8:30 every morning. even in the mornings where he had a boxing match the night before. today is indeed such a strange day.

you’re in no position to be sad just because he didn’t message you. in fact, you’re not, you’re just surprised, or so you think. at the same time, you shouldn’t be in shock owing to the fact that there’s no label between you and jungkook. indeed there’s something going on with you and him, whatever that would be except for being girlfriend and boyfriend.

you often ask yourself where you two stand. for you, it’s indistinct to identify what you are to him. all you know is that he is someone special to you. jungkook makes you feel like you’re the prettiest girl in the whole universe every time he’s around you. it’s the way he articulates his words when speaking to you. you can’t explain it.

you’re more than aware that you’re growing emotional attachment to him. getting used to his affection and now that you didn’t receive a message from him to start off your day, it dismays you. although you’re not sure if there's a hidden motive beyond those gut feeling, you choose to ignore it and start typing on your keyboard.

good morning my ggukie!!

r u free today?? kinda wanna hang out with you >o<

delivered | 9:01 am

since you didn’t establish any kind of plan that you’ll be doing today, you’re thinking of inviting him over. you have lots of things to show him, things you purchased when you went shopping with your best friend who also happens to lives next door, Yun-jin

speaking of her before you even forget, you have to call and ask her how her night went from clubbing last night. she initially invited and forced you to go. but your thousands of homeworks and seventy other things on your checklist didn’t permit you to go. partying is always fun, especially with her, but you have to stay focused on your priorities.

you find her inbox off your message app, the first thing you saw was her latest message from this morning

im aliveeeeeeebwwkwwjhskw

sent at 3:33 am

it made you chuckle lightly. she’s completely wasted. there’s no point of calling her as she’s probably still down. so, you decided to pull up to her apartment, bring a few painkillers with you. you’ll bet seven grand that her hangover is going to be so bad.

opening the door using the key she gave you, you spot her laying on the cream and fluffy rug in her cozy white themed living room. you quickly make your way towards her.

“yunny wake up” you said, gently rubbing her back. “i brought you some painkillers, take them quickly” handling her a couple of pain relievers.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

you’re currently searching for breakfast in her mini fridge, something yun-jin can eat so she’ll feel better. your poor friend is a complete mess as she lazily walks toward the counter in front of you.

“last night was so fun, you should’ve come,” she murmurs, hopping on the bar stool as she watches you cook her breakfast. “Jaeyun won’t stop asking me about you.”

oh you almost forget about him. Jaeyun is Yun-jin’s childhood friend who has a huge interest in you. well that’s what Yun-jin has told you, but you swore to her that you won’t tell him that you know. back in your senior year of high school, you mostly have the same classes as him. oftentimes you two hang out and study together in a local cafe. you enjoy his company a lot, but only as friends. just when you and Jungkook started talking, your friendship with Jaeyun unintentionally grew apart. you lowkey miss hanging out with him. anyways, you take a mental note to check up on him later.

yun-jin tells you more about what you’ve missed. most of them are about the hot guys that she encountered in the night club. that’s not new to you because she’s always out there looking out for hotties.

“oh i forgot to tell you, you remember Blythe? she’s wildin’ last night too” of course, how could you forget about the girl who spreads malicious rumors about you? you genuinely don’t know what’s up with her as she constantly talks shit about you though you never know her personally. to you, she’s just a friend of a friend and some type of hater. indeed, it’s a one- sided beef. she is also known for making out with multiple guys and god knows what at every party she’s in.

“my god, who was her target last night??” you interestedly asked. you and yun-jin have a silly habit of keeping track of her targets. you two soon discover that she goes for the basketball players and athletic guys in general.

“I don't think we’ve seen the guy in a club before but I’ve heard he does underground boxing.” she said as her eyes glanced to her left, trying to recollect her memory. Jungkook might be familiar with the mysterious man. he could be either in his circle or one of his opponents.

you just hum, you expected she’ll go for another basketball player. you guess she’s trying something new.

“but girl, let me tell you. the boxer guy looked so drunk and she was dry humping on him like a damn get a fucking room bro” she adds more details on the tea, while pretending to cry as she covers her eyes.

“wait was the guy totally intoxicated ?” you ask as cracking the eggs on the hot pan.

“No, he was still responding back to her, running his hands around her body and stuff.” you’re glad you didn’t see that yourself, or else you’ll cringe. your friend giving you a summary of how the night went is enough. still, it’s entertaining. for a while.

“let me see if she posted something on her IG” yun-jin utters, pulling out her phone from her pocket.

she taps on her screen multiple times, and finally she finds a story that the girl posted. “look, she posted this”

and with that, yun-jin faces the phone your way. you take a glance on her screen, showing you a low exposure photo of the girl sitting on the uknown guy’s lap. her face is showing while his face wasn't captured. the blurry image seems normal. until your eyes examine the familiar tatted arm that’s wrapped around the girl’s torso. you swear you’ve seen those tattoos before. it takes you a while to recognize the ink into the deep layer of their skin.

then it hits you— those not-so-foreign tattoos belong to jungkook, your jungkook.

oh. your heart suddenly drops.

your eyes lock with the phone screen surface longer than the usual, by which makes your friend frown.

“hey, what’s wrong?” Yun-jin concernedly ask

maybe that’s why he hasn’t texted you yet. maybe he slept wit—

“y/n? you ok?” your friend calls for you again, interrupting your thoughts, though they didn’t fully vanish.

shifting your eyes to her, you blink rapidly “yeah, i’m completely ok,” swallowing your lies away. you can feel your eyes watering, and you don't want your friend to see you break down.

after cooking her breakfast, you decided to head back. “I forgot that I have something to do, I’ll go now” you rapidly put your shoes on

‘she’s not eating this breakfast with me?’ Yun-jin thinks as she watches you leave her apartment.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

As soon as you get back to your apartment, you walk towards your bedroom. immediately, you throw yourself on the bed.

“I’m so stupid” you groan as you kick the baby pink multi layer bedsheets on your bed.

and once again, you can’t explain this bothersome feeling. anger? feeling betrayed? jealousy? sadness? all of the above?

you can’t understand. no, you’re trying to understand in the midst of confusion.

you really like him, you really do. and he says he likes you too. he even confessed his feelings to you first! since then, it was safe to assume that you two will establish a label soon. you were so sure of it, until now.

how.. how come he’s with another woman?

the more you think about, the more you feel the sting in your heart. the unpleasant emotion is spreading inside your system, it’s urging you to throw up. you find yourself removing dead skin out of your cuticle using your thumbnail, a habit which you only do to relieve anxiety.

you have so many questions that need to be answered. were the feelings he felt about you real? or was he just playing you? or did he just forget that you exist in his life last night? or did he just lose interest in you? these questions bring out your inner conflicts. so many questions you’re afraid to know the real answers of.

just before the skin next to your cuticle bleeds, your focus shifts to the triple loud ping coming from your phone. Of course, those messages belong to the one person who you least likely want to face right now.

morning pretty

sorry just woke up, having a severe hangover rn

still down to hang out? I can pull up a little later

sent at 11:59 am

his text confirms your suspicion, proving that he was drinking heavily last night. you can’t stand seeing him today. you will just cancel your initial plan and make up some lame excuse.

nvm, we can just hang out another time.

no, erase that. you’ll avoid him from now on, there won’t be another time!

nvm, I feel sick. please don’t come over.

seen at 12:00 pm

my poor baby, i’ll take care of u

sent | 12:01 pm

no need, thanks tho

delivered | 12:01 pm

not being in the mood to keep talking to him, you send the last message before putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode. leaving jungkook’s messages unseen

considering that your day has been ruined, you choose to shut down the world and take a long nap.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

on the other hand, jungkook definitely notices how cold you turned out to be. maybe it's the time of the month for you. thus, today his mission is to grab things you typically crave for: brown sugar milk tea, some sweet pastries from your favorite bakery shop, and finally, the icing to add on top, a bouquet of white roses.

jungkook usually pampers you with a bunch of food and affection. that’s why he pays attention and takes mental notes (or even notes on his phone) of tiny details about you. it satisfies him to see you all spoiled.

that’s the reason why he jumps out of his messy bed and initiates to get ready. starting off his usual morning routine by taking a cold shower. not much time after, he applies his skincare.

Jungkook hears loud chatters of two men talking from his living room as he walks out of his bedroom. he opens the door and perceives his hyungs chilling by his couch.

“yah jungkook, that chick you brought from last night was way out of control” Jimin complains as soon as jungkook enters the living room.

“yeah kook, kicking her out at 3 in the morning wasn’t a good idea. she’s loud as hell and I had to deal with one of your neighbors' complaints again” Taehyung, who was their designated driver, added annoyingly.

“whose chick?” jungkook confusedly asks.

“yours” both of his hyungs exclaim in unison, which the youngest responds with a shrug.

to be honest, Jungkook doesn’t remember shit from last night. he can recollect some memories, but not a whole bunch. drinks. yes, he drank a lot. there was this girl he randomly made out with, however he can’t remember her name or what she looks like. not that she’s relevant to him anyways.

jungkook chooses to not care about the insignificance, he could spend his time better than that. and by the word better, he spends time thinking about you.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

the constant sound from your doorbell that’s been ringing for who-knows-how-long wakes you up from your wonderful nap.

you gently rubbing your eyes, then you tap the screen of your cellular to see the time; 3:59 pm.

shit, how long were you out for? no idea. you look at your window and see the raindrops rolling down the glass. it was just sunny before you drifted to sleep a few hours ago.

down below to your screen, you notice jungkook messages and a few missed calls from earlier and just now.

7 missed calls from 🐰

55 mins ago

I’ll stay for the night so I can take care of you

delivered | 12:03 pm

just grabbing few things for my baby and I’ll be there soon.

delivered | 12:30 pm

it’s raining heavily and now I’m stuck in traffic

delivered | 1:01 pm

I’m here!

delivered | 1:44 pm

baby? are you home? I'm here

delivered | 1:51 pm

don’t know where u at but I’ll be here waiting at your front door :(

delivered | 1:56 pm

after reading his texts, you rush to the door. there’s no way that man will wait for those hours outside your front doo-

indeed, he’s in front of your door, waiting for you to open up to him as he’s sitting on the ground. besides him, a couple of light brown paper bags, his backpack, and a bouquet of flowers are also laying on the cold cement.

“hi my pretty!” he cheerfully greeted you, rushing to get up from the ground. jungkook walks up to you with a smile full of relief and happiness as if he wasn’t wasting his time for two hours waiting for you right there.

you attempt to avoid his gaze, your eyes examine his black long sleeve that really fits him nice and is damp.

“come in, you should change your clothes.” you mutter coldy

it’s inevitable to not be concerned that he got wet from the rain. Even if you don’t wanna let him in, it will guilt you if he gets ill.

jungkook does what he was told, gathering all the stuff he brings with him and steps into your flat. he feels the strange coldness as soon as he lands his eyes on yours. something isn’t right. something is wrong with you.

He settles his things by your couch and changes into a new oversized t-shirt in front of you. after changing, he reaches for the paper bags to show you the things he got.

“look baby, I got you your favorite drink, some pastries, i know how much you lov-”

“thank you, but you shouldn’t have. I told you to not come” your stern voice cuts him off before he finishes his sentence. you’re trying to keep your cool. your tone is full of nothing but seriousness. not a hint of sweetness in them, which makes jungkook tilt his head on the side, confused by your odd attitude.

“but baby, I just wanted to be here to take care of you.” he insists. by all means, he won’t listen to what you say.

“I hate when you do this” you sigh

“did i do something wrong? are you mad at me?” he attempts to reach you, but you’re too quick to avoid his touch. “tell me what’s wrong baby, please” Jungkook added once more. he doesn’t understand why you avoid him.

“do you treat your other girls like this too?” you ask, eyes shooting lasers at his. an anger rushes through you as the thoughts of him spoiling girls other than you.

“my pretty, what are you talking about?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, looking down closely to you. where are you getting these notions from?

“my friend saw you last night”

it took him a couple seconds to remember

“listen to me baby, whoever I was with, she meant nothing” Jungkook defends himself quickly, reaching for your hand, trying to reassure you that she’s insignificant.

it’s not working.

“I just wish you could’ve told me we weren’t exclusive.” you said wipe a tear from your upper cheek before it could roll down further.

“or maybe I was just dumb to assume we were since you initially told me you liked me, I'm sorry, I don’t really know how this whole thing works” you dryly chuckle, honestly admitting to him that you’ve never been in this type of complicated situation before. now you feel like a fool, getting mad at him for something you can’t hold against him.

jungkook shakes his head, reaching for you one more time, placing his gentle on the side of your face, caressing it. you did nothing as you stood still.

“no, i’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I do like you. I still do and that won’t change. I was just so drunk last night and could barely remember what happened. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

but somewhere deep down is telling you that he’s only sorry because he got caught.

“you’re free to do whatever you want, Jungkook. I don’t think we’re on the same page so it will be best if we don’t see each other anymore” you articulate as best as you could.

you don’t want to let him go, due to the fact that you’re growing so much feelings towards him. it’s almost as if you’re enamored. but that’s also the same reason why you must let him go. you must, or you’ll get hurt deeper.

“y/n, please don’t say that”

“No, you know how much I like you. you know how much I value you. yet in return, I feel like I’m just a plaything to you that you can play with whenever you want.”

“that’s not true baby, you know that” Jungkook protests, shaking his head. the main problem is you don't. you absolutely have no idea of his motives for pursuing you. is he doing it because he's falling for you too? or he's just playing one of those games. those dangerous games you won't involve yourself with.

he’s looking for words to proves you that his feelings were genuine, but fails to. maybe because he never knows how to show his real feelings. or maybe he was never genuine to start with.

"I'm not one of your playthings. so just— ” you pause, shifting your eyes on the ground. “go away"

Jungkook locks his gaze to you, hoping you will look back at him and take back what you said. but he can read you face and make it seem like he’s not welcome there anymore.

without any words, he leaves, leaving you accompanied with melancholy.

series m.list

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkookxreader #bts jk #jungkook ff #jeon jk #jjk x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jeongguk #bts ff #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk x reader

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Safe and Sound

When Eddie and Steve settle into their relationship, the Party notices some...interesting changes about their Dungeon Master and their favorite babysitter.

Eddie has always been one of the most alert people they have known. It probably comes with the drug dealing territory and also being the town freak, he never knew when he’d get jumped on the street or simply tossed around for a good laugh of the local jocks. He always watched his surroundings like a hawk, his dark eyes sharp in contrast to the laid back smile. Eddie was quick on his feet, always ready to move out of the way or jump to the higher ground.

The Party can’t exactly put a finger on it at first, but there is definitely something different now that Eddie and Steve sat them down, explained to them that they got their wish, they finally get along, actually, they might be getting along way more than they ever hoped, and after some clarification ("is it because all of your dates in last year sucked, Steve?" asked Dustin and got smacked by Max in return) the Party congratulated them and pretended to gag at every display of affection. The first one to notice the change is Erica, they are all walking to get some ice cream before they continue their campaign and Eddie is taking notes, mumbling to himself and scribbling numbers in his notebook. Steve walks next to him, just a mere friend to an outsider's gaze. Eddie is completely immersed in the campaign planning and he nearly walks into the street light - but only nearly because Steve is there, gently grabbing Eddie's elbow and redirecting him out of harm's way. The metalhead just mutters "thanks, love" and keeps taking notes as if nothing has just happened. Erica rolls her eyes and scoffs at Eddie. "What happened to attention to your surroundings, not cool anymore?" and Eddie just smirks, not looking up from his notes, while Steve answers: "It's okay, I got him. Let him work on your dragon hunting thing so he actually gets some sleep tonight." Erica doesn't say anything after that, but the wheels are turning in her head. 

The summer is very hot this time, and they decide to go swimming to the quarry, burying the bad memories under a pile of new ones, joyful ones. Steve stays with Eddie on the shore while the seven children test the water, splash each other and slowly escalate to a full-scale war. Mike spits out a mouthful of water after being dunked and prepares for counter attack, but his opponent - Max - is distracted. She's looking at their babysitters, slightly frowning. "I swear that normally Steve would be shouting his vocal chords away that we're taking it too far," she says and squints to look why they're not getting the usual load of motherly care. It appears that Steve is...sleeping? Well, that is unusual. His head is in Eddie's lap while the other man strokes his hair, watching the teenagers play. Max just shrugs and goes back to drowning Mike, but she makes sure to check on the two of them afterwards. 

"Something wrong, Red?" smiles Eddie, his voice quiet not to wake Steve up. The hand in his hair doesn't let up. 

Max shakes her head, watching the rise and fall of Steve's distractingly hairy chest. "No, it's just...I haven't seen him this relaxed in a while. I got kind of worried when he didn't yell at us for...well," she points towards the water where Mike and Lucas are wrestling. 

Eddie just smirks. "He deserves the rest. You know he's been watching you tiny shits for years nonstop, so I'm taking over when he lets me. And as far as I'm concerned, if there is no loss of life or limbs, you're good. But keep it tame. If you make me get over there and wake Stevie up, there might be loss of life after all. Now off you go, gang up on Wheeler or something."

It's Will who manages to articulate what they're all unable to when Steve hosts the next Hellfire Club meeting, carrying trays of baked snacks to the table. His hand slips a bit, but before anything falls and ruins the pristine carpet, Eddie is there, stabilizing him. "I got you, love," he mutters and takes the tray from his hands. Steve just smiles back, no words needed. 

When they disappear into the kitchen to bring drinks, Will smiles to himself. "They look so in sync," he mentions to Max who seems to be sharing his thoughts. "They've always been so..."

"Sharp? Alert? Freaking out about the next catastrophe?" she supplies. 

Will nods. "Yeah. It's nice to see them finally being able to relax. I mean, I guess it comes with dating, but not for everyone. I'm happy for them. It...it must be nice," he finishes, a tinge of pink in his cheeks. 

Max just smiles at him and squeezes his hand under the table. "You will get there too," she assures him. "And then Erica will be on your case all the time when your...partner..." she says quietly, not daring to voice her suspicions aloud, "has to hold you back from jumping under a car because you're too caught up in sketching." 

Will snickers and Max joins in, giving his hand one final squeeze. "I'd like that," he says, his eyes bright, just like their future.

#steddie #domestic steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #strangerthings #stranger things #strangerthingsdrabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #erica sinclair #steve x eddie #hellfire club #max mayfield

[matryosika]

The Look

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount: 2,159 words Genre: Smut (18+) Includes: Ex!hyunjin, mentions of break up and indications of an unhealthy relationship (nothing too detailed or specific). Possesiveness, a bit of angst if you squint. Infidelity? But not really? It's nothing too serious, anyway. Smut warnings under the cut. Author's Note: Wrote this TODAY. Everybody say congratulations on overcoming your writer's block Femme! It honestly has been a fucking while since I wrote anything, so this is news to me really. To be really honest I didn't want to get anywhere with this, I just felt like indulging myself with the "we shouldn't be doing this" kind of trope, so this is what it came out! Please remember that english is not my first language and this is not proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes in advance. If you like this, please leave a comment/reblog/ask and let me know what you think! AND if you wish to support my work further, you can buy me a ko-fi! The link it's in my pinned post. I love you for even reading me.

Smut warnings: Sex in a public place (club's restroom). Unprotected vaginal sex mentions of a condom but they ended up not using it anyways. Lots of dirty talking and physical touch. No kissing at all because they're exes and they don't go around kissing each other, apparently (but they do fuck so... ?). Jealous and possesive Hyunjin. Creampie. Multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of petnames (baby and pretty). Hyunjin is kind of controlling, not in a dom kind of way but in a "I know you better than you know yourself" kind of way.

“He can’t make you feel like I do, can he?”

It's hard to think coherently and give him a proper answer when his cock is hitting the deepest spots within you. Repeatedly.

Not only that, but he's holding your hips in the angle he knows best. 

Hyunjin is right, no one can make you feel like he does. In every sense of the sentence. 

“He doesn’t know how to fuck you like this, right?” The queries continue, plump lips dragging along your jaw and chin with no other purpose than to feel your skin. Despite you two ending things, seemingly for good, you somehow always found yourself in the same situation: against him, or on top of him, or underneath him. “I know you don’t let him”. 

You're reminded of whatever he is talking about when you feel the rubber of the condom inside your hand, gripping it just as harshly as your walls clench around Hyunjin's dick.

He is right again, you don’t let your new conquer fuck you raw like he is doing right now. Shit, you haven't even let him fuck you at all.

That is not something your ex boyfriend should know about. 

“Baby,” the pet name slips off your lips and it sends shivers down Hyunjin's spine. It has been a while since he has heard you calling him that, but it still has the exact same effect.

Perhaps it's now boosted, considering neither of you should be fucking each other at this point. At least not now, that you've started dating men again. 

Nothing too serious, but you've tried to convince everyone that you're already over your ex boyfriend. And if by over you mean completely obsessed and desperate for the way only he knows how to fuck you, then yes: you are over him.

“Feels good?” Hyunjin asks through gritted teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel tears of his sweat mixing with yours, his fresh and minty breath fanning your cheeks and eyelashes. You nod desperately, swallowing thickly in hopes of being able to articulate a single, monosyllabic word. Yet the way he feels inside your pussy is too overwhelming to even let you form a coherent response. “Do you really think he could fuck you hard like this? Make you this wet?”

He could, but you're never going to know anyway. 

“That’s why you keep crawling back to me,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your walls convulsing around him, “that's why you keep letting me fuck you”. 

It was for the best, you repeat yourself every time he thrusts his cock deeper inside you. It was for the best, but that doesn't necessarily mean it was what you wanted.

Ending things off with Hyunjin seemed like the only way to go —you two just didn't work out, no matter how hard each one of you tried. 

You loved each other, but it was kind of a sick love, a poisonous one. One would think they'll be able to live through it, but it eventually consumes you.

It ignites a fire that can never be put down. And living amongst flames it's not exactly what either of you were looking for. 

“Right there,” you cry out, the pathetic sounds being drowned by the music and party bustle happening outside the club's restroom where your date is patiently waiting for you.

Does he know Hyunjin is fucking you just meters away from him? Does he know you're going back home with a sore pussy and cum trailing down your legs?

Hyunjin’s cock twitches at the idea of him finding out you’re being dicked down by none other than your ex. 

The one you claim to be over with. 

The one whose memory, you assured, wasn't a threat to a new relationship.

“Yeah, right here?” Damned be him, who knows you maybe too well. You suppress a scream when his palm digs into the flesh of your lower tummy, pressing down hard where the tip of his cock is brushing the deepest spots within you, “can you feel me here? Can you feel how hard my dick is?”

You moan in response. 

You can feel him there, and everywhere. You can feel his slim fingers pressed against the flesh of your hips. You can feel the tip of his nose buried on your neck, and his lips leaving a wet trail everywhere they go. You can feel his pulse, his heavy breathing.

The despair of being without fucking you for so long.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin groans when he feels you grinding your hips against his, lifting them up ever so slightly over the restroom sink. When you start forcing yourself against him, to do anything to feel him closer, he knows you're close to cumming. “That’s it, pretty, come and get what you want from me like you always do”. 

You have no other choice but to arch your back, the overwhelming pleasure taking control not only of your limbs but your whole body. You wrap your arms around Hyunjin's neck and your legs around his hips  tightly, pulling him as close as humanly possible.

“Just like that,” he praises you, licking his lips when his eyes fall to where your bodies connect. 

Hyunjin feels like he could come with that sight alone, but he needs to elongate it. What if you go back home with the man you're supposed to be on a date with, and decide that you want something serious with him? What if it's the last time he ever gets to fuck you? 

Hyunjin can't just come like that. He can't come without engraving the way your body feels inside his brain.

He can't come without letting his mouth speak freely what his pride doesn't allow him to say on a regular day.

Hyunjin can't come just yet. He needs you a bit more. A little bit longer.

“C-coming,” you sob against his neck, feeling him holding you tightly when your body trembles almost aggressively, “don’t stop, Hyunjin. D-don’t fucking stop”.

Not that he intended to.

Instead, he pushes his hips harder. Deeper. His hands move from your hips to your ass, and he uses his grip as leverage to piston even rougher inside you. 

So much so, you wince in pain. You don't want him to stop, but you can feel the built up tension exploding little by little. 

Like fireworks, one after the other.

“See?” Hyunjin groans, taking it upon him to help you ride your high. He doesn't slow down, despite how your nails are digging into his hair and the flesh of his nape. “We've broken up but your body still remembers me. You’re still so weak for me”. 

You hate how right he is, but you can't argue back. 

After going without each other for so long, almost 4 months, you didn't expect your body to react like this to his touch.

But it appears as if it has a mind of its own, one to which you have no access to. 

“No,” you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. The waves of pleasure travel from your core to the tip of your toes, and from your erect nipples to the thin hairs on your arms. You’re covered in goosebumps and can barely even remember any other name that’s not Hyunjin’s. “I’m not- I’m just-”.

It’s pointless to try and say something back. You're making a fool of yourself and you know it, but it seems as if your dignity always appears right at the epitome of the post-nut clarity. 

With Hyunjin's dick still inside you, you know such clarity is not going to last long, but you're going to hold on to it for as good as it lasts. 

“You’re just what?” He taunts you, guiding one of your hands from your arse to your face. He takes your cheeks and cups them, forcing your lips into a pathetic pout. “Desperate for me? For my touch?”

You try to shake your head as a way of saying no because your mouth can only do so much, but Hyunjin keeps you in place.

“No?” He asks you, frustration lingering on his tone. “Wasn’t this what you wanted all night long?”

4 months ago, things seemingly followed the natural course of them.

After much fucking and bickering, even after having broken up, you two parted ways —Hyunjin immersed himself in his profession, and you did the same. The late night calls weren't taken as frequently, and the drunken messages stopped receiving any sort of response.

It seemed as if you were already over each other —not only over the relationship, but those strange encounters you kept on having too. 

That was, of course, way long before tonight's affair. 

“No,” you whine yet again, trying to convince yourself that all that is happening wasn’t provoked and invited by you. “I was just- with my date”. 

“And where is that date of yours right now, pretty?” His voice is trembling, but Hyunjin still manages to keep his composure. 

He has always been the one to have the last word in everything, that much you know. And how could he not, when his voice stands strong even at moments like this, when his mind is completely losing control.

“You don’t even know, right?” 

He teases you, mouth slightly agape while a series of grunts and gasps escape his lips.

Sadly, he is getting closer.

“You don’t even know where he is because you stopped caring about him the minute you saw me, right?” The cockiness in his voice is a painful reminder that you're not as strong-willed as you think you are. Not only that, but it also reminds you of how true Hyunjin is. “You’re so easy to read, so f-fucking easy”. 

You clench around him when you hear how he struggles to keep on talking. The way he runs out of breath, and each groan that follows every word is getting you going way more than it should. 

“That gaze of yours-” Hyunjin continues, nibbling at his plump bottom lip while his cat-like eyes find yours in the middle of the neon lights, “always tells me exactly what you want”. 

The look. The sight that will be forever imprinted in Hyunjin’s mind for good.

That look you used to give him when you were on your knees, with your hands wrapped around his length and the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part in your throat. 

That look you always gave him when the tip of his dick slid for the first time that night inside of you, along with that sigh of relief that escaped your lips every time it happened.

The look. 

When you saw him standing right across from you at the club, Hyunjin could decipher your gaze easily. 

After all, he is the one who knows you the most. 

“And I know this is what you want, right?” He asks you, increasing the speed of his thrusts. They get rougher as they get sloppier, completely losing the steady and sensual rhythm he set at first. 

You press your lips in a thin line, shutting your eyes close right after they threaten to start spilling tears from them. 

Hyunjin is always too much to take, and you're not sure if you love it or hate it. 

“I know you miss me just as much as I do,” Hyunjin gasps, salty drops of sweat traveling from his temples to your chest and tummy. “You can try to get over me, but I know you won't,” each word is accompanied by a harsh thrusts of his hips. 

It feels like a threat, but it's a fact.

“You don’t want to get over me, you just want to pretend,” he's fully aware of how loud he is being. How whiny his words are coming off, how desperate he sounds overall. But he can’t help himself, not when he is so close to tasting that sweet relief he has been craving for months now. “You can fuck- every man you want-, but it is always going to be me who you think about when you're coming around their cocks”. 

With that, he lets out a raspier, more primal grunt. One that’s explosive enough to stop him right on his tracks, breathing heavily while his head hangs low. 

You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, just right after you came around him for the third time tonight. 

Unexpected, without a warning. 

Your orgasm washed over you just as quickly as Hyunjin's did. With a dry throat and strangled breath you look at each other, feeling his hot arousal pumping inside you, painting your walls white. 

One would think that there's nothing left to say. Not when you're in this state of frenzy, completely unaware of your surroundings. 

But, as usual, Hyunjin has to have the last word.

“That is, if they can get you to come at all”. 

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut

[solarmorrigan]

May I request a thrupple for the angst quote prompt?

“Please I just… really need space right now.”

With ChissyxStevexEddie. If not the thrupple then a pair of your choice from those three characters.

Hello! I'm sorry, I didn't quite manage to work Chrissy into this one. Honestly, this particular fill argued with me so much I'm kind of glad I even got Eddie and Steve in there. I hope this is okay, anyway!

[post-S3 Steddie AU; CW: Deals with the aftermath of torture, heavily discusses non-consensual touching (not inherently sexual, not between Eddie and Steve), contains the theme of trying to help someone through trauma. This is very soft, though, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

The Steve Harrington who comes home to Eddie from the hospital on the fifth of July is not the same one who had kissed him goodbye before his shift at that shitty ice cream parlor two days prior.

He’s still Eddie’s Steve, of course he is, but he’s also – he’s withdrawn, and he’s jumpy, and he’s so, so hurt.

Eddie had seen the aftermath of that fight with Hargrove (who hadn’t? Though Eddie had even had the privilege of watching the last of the bruises fade from up close as he and Steve became friends), but this is worse. Eddie can’t articulate how at first, but it is.

At least back in November, Steve had been able to talk about how he’d gotten his injuries; this time, he has to hide behind some fucked up cover story – because bull-fucking-shit had he gotten hurt by falling debris in a freak mall fire.

Debris hadn’t left marks like fucking boot prints on Steve’s back and chest. It hadn’t bruised and rubbed his wrists red and raw. It hadn’t left the distinct shape of fingers in purple and blue, wrapped around his arms on both sides.

Eddie had tried exactly once to address this, when he’d first seen the extent of the damage hidden under Steve’s shirt. He’d tried to demand answers, tried to get out of Steve who had laid their fucking hands on him, but Steve had gone grey under his bruises and shook his head.

“It was a fire, Eddie. Nothing else. I need you to understand that,” Steve had said, more serious than Eddie had ever heard him, his one good eye wide with urgent anxiety – with something almost like fear. “It was just a fire.”

Eddie hasn’t brought it up again.

It makes him burn to know that someone had done this to Steve and that he can’t do a goddamn thing about it. It makes him want to scream, it makes him want to find whoever had been responsible and make them hurt, but more than anything–

More than anything, it terrifies him.

Because this Steve is different – his Steve is different now, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

It scares him to see Steve slinking around the trailer like it isn’t his home (more of a home than his parents’ house has ever been). It scares him when he forgets that Steve’s left is his bad side and that if he comes up on him too fast, he’ll startle the shit out of him. It scares him that Steve has a bad side. It scares him when he reaches for him, unthinkingly going for the contact that Steve has always been so hungry for, has been so comforted by in the past, and instead Steve flinches away.

Eddie has never really had to take care of someone else, and he feels like he’s fucking it up at every turn. He feels like he’s hurting Steve even more, that he’s no better than whoever did this to him, no better than Billy fucking Hargrove, no better than Steve’s parents; he’s afraid he’s going to ruin things, break Steve beyond repair, because he doesn’t know how to care for this new version of him.

The only thing that gives him hope that he isn’t doing too badly is the fact that Steve is staying. He still wants to be in Eddie’s company, still reaches out sometimes and tentatively slides his hand over Eddie’s while they’re watching TV together, still shares Eddie’s bed at night. He’s been stubbornly insisting that he’s fine, he’s fine, he just needs time to heal, but beyond a refusal to admit that anything is wrong, he still trusts Eddie to help when he’s not at his best.

Of course, no matter what he says, Steve isn’t actually fine, and even if that weren’t made apparent just by looking at him, it becomes abundantly clear when the lights go out and they lie down to sleep – when the nightmares hit.

Sometimes, they’re small things: quickened breath and inaudible murmuring, furrowed brows that eventually smooth out as Steve is released back into deeper, more peaceful sleep.

Sometimes, though, they’re loud and sharp and violent.

Sometimes, like tonight.

Steve is half twisted in the sheets, struggling in a way his broken ribs really can’t afford, arms flailing and jerking as he tries to fight something off, as he mutters no and stop and please. Eddie sort of wants to cry, thinking about what could be making Steve beg, but more than anything he wants to wake Steve up.

He shakes him by the shoulder, dodging the jerk of his arm, and hopes he can call louder than whatever’s going on in Steve’s head.

“Steve. Steve, c’mon, wake up,” Eddie shakes Steve again and Steve jerks away with a wounded noise. “It’s just a nightmare, baby, come on. Steve!”

Steve’s eyes snap open with a sharp gasp, like he’s been holding his breath, but his gaze is still hazy. He’s awake, but he isn’t present, and he immediately starts shoving at Eddie’s hands, trying to scoot away on the bed.

“No, no, get off– get off me!” he shouts, managing to make it as far as the edge of the bed before the tangle of the sheets holds him in place.

“Steve it’s– it’s just me, it’s Eddie, it was a nightmare, you’re–” as reassuring as Eddie is trying to be, he can’t help the distressed crack in his voice. “Baby, you’re safe, I fucking swear.”

Finally, Steve stops struggling. He lies against the mattress for a moment, breathing heavily, before he ventures a small, “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m right here,” Eddie promises.

He shuffles closer on his knees, reaching out for Steve, hoping to comfort or soothe or ground or something, but Steve flinches away, tossing up an arm to halt Eddie in his tracks with a quickly barked, “No.”

“Steve,” Eddie breathes out, and he doesn’t mean to sound so fucking broken, but he should be the one person Steve is never afraid of, and he’s fucking that up.

“I… Please, I just…” Steve stutters out, still catching his breath, trying to sit himself up against the wall that the head of the bed is pressed to, “…really need space right now. Just– just leave me alone for a while.”

And all at once, even if Eddie knows nothing else, he knows that isn’t right.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now, sweetheart.”

Steve, now propped up against the wall, lets his head hang with a heavy sigh. “Eddie…”

“No, look, I’m not–” Eddie scrambles off the bed and moves across the small room, until he’s got his back to the opposite wall. “I’m not gonna touch you, I’ll stay over here, you don’t even have to look at me, but I’m not going to leave you by yourself.”

Steve had never wanted to be left alone when things were bad before. When he was alone, his anxiety would consume him; without the anchor of another person, it would carry him away, and Eddie is certain the same thing will happen now if he leaves Steve to deal with the aftermath of his nightmare in solitude.

For a long moment, Steve stares at him, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears in the low light of the bedroom, but he eventually looks away again. He says nothing, just curling in on himself in a way that must be hell on his ribs as he leans back against the wall, and Eddie takes that as the best permission he’s going to get.

He slides down the wall and sits on the floor, his knees pulled up in front of him in a loose mirror of Steve’s position. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak, but he’s there, and he has to believe that’s worth something.

It startles him when, some thirty minutes in (probably the longest Eddie’s ever been able to sit in silence without something to occupy him), Steve speaks.

“I can still feel their hands on me.”

His voice is a quiet rasp, but the words hit Eddie like hailstones. He wants to ask who, he wants to demand what, but he knows if he says anything now, Steve will clam up, so Eddie keeps his mouth shut, and he waits.

“Even before they– before they started hitting me.” Steve isn’t looking at Eddie, instead addressing the wall, gaze distant and unblinking. “They grabbed me and… searched me, cuffed me, they kept – putting their hands on my face, grabbing my hair, and I couldn’t…”

Couldn’t stop them.

Eddie feels a little sick.

Steve is quiet for so long after that that Eddie begins to wonder if he should say something, but Steve breaks the silence before he has to figure out what.

“Out of everything, I don’t know why that… why that left the biggest impression, but I–” he breaks off, turning and finally looking at Eddie. “I want to feel you again, but any time someone touches me, I can only see them.”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s going to survive this. His heart is going to fucking break.

He needs to do something, he needs to help, and maybe he has no clue what he’s doing, but this is his Steve, and he has to try.

Slowly, Eddie levers himself up off the floor and moves towards the door, where he hits the switch for the overhead lights, making the entire room go bright.

Steve winces at the sudden change, turning a wary look on Eddie as he approaches the bed.

“Eddie, what…”

“Just– just trust me. Let me try,” Eddie says, soft and earnest, holding Steve’s gaze as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Please?”

It takes a long moment, but Steve gives a hesitant nod, and Eddie scoots closer. He leaves space between them, still, but he gets close enough that he could reach out and take Steve’s hands – which is exactly what he intends to do.

“Look at me,” Eddie says, quiet and firm. “Just look at me, nowhere else.”

Steve does as he’s told, and Eddie manages a smirk.

“Just pretend I’m the most interesting thing in the room,” he tries to tease. “Like there’s nothing else you’d ever wanna look at.”

“Don’t have to pretend,” Steve murmurs, eyes locked on Eddie’s face, and Eddie’s smile melts into something more genuine.

“There you are,” he says softly.

He reaches for Steve’s hands, and slowly, Steve unwraps them from where he’s been clutching firm around his legs, and lets Eddie touch him.

His hands are cold in spite of the summer heat that invades the trailer no matter how hard their crappy little air conditioner works, and they’re trembling slightly, but Steve doesn’t pull back. He stares right at Eddie and holds on.

Eddie brings one hand up, cradled in his own, and presses a gentle kiss to the knuckles. The bruises there have already faded (their presence had been the least distressing out of all the damage; Eddie likes knowing that Steve had at least gotten a few hits in), but he attends carefully to each knuckle, anyway. He kisses the back of Steve’s hand, feeling a little like a courtly lord from one of his own campaigns. Steve is starting to look at him like he might be one.

The bruises around Steve’s wrists are taking longer to heal; the damage is deeper, and the colors still paint livid rainbow circles on his skin (his face is going to take longer, still; Steve says the doctor told him he’d lucked out with a minor fracture to his orbital bone that will heal on its own with time. Eddie looks at the discoloration there and feels like he has some choice words for the doctor). Eddie moves his attention up, brushing his lips featherlight across the top of Steve’s wrist before turning his hand over and paying the same devotion to the underside.

“Eddie…” Steve breathes, and Eddie presses one last kiss to the palm of Steve’s hand.

“It’s me,” Eddie promises, bringing Steve’s other hand up now. “Watch me, sweetheart, it’s just me.”

He keeps eye contact as he lavishes Steve’s left hand with the same attention he’d given the right, and it occurs to him that he’s been inside the boy in front of him, but this is somehow the most intimate thing they’ve ever done.

Eddie doesn’t move beyond Steve’s wrists, doesn’t push any more than he already has, and Steve’s eyes are still on him by the time he finishes, wide and soft and glassy.

“Okay?” Eddie asks softly, dropping his hands to hold both of Steve’s in his lap.

Slowly, Steve nods. He looks away at last, turning his eyes to their joined hands, and tightens his fingers until he’s holding onto Eddie properly.

They sit like that for a long time, quiet and close, until Eddie can feel himself flagging and he can see Steve’s eyelids drooping.

“Let’s try to get some more sleep,” Eddie says around a stifled yawn. “You do need your beauty rest, after all.”

Steve laughs, a little huff of a thing, and casts a quick glance up at Eddie. “Can– can we leave the light on?” He rushes the words out, like he hates to even ask, but Eddie only nods.

“Whatever you need, Steve,” he promises – and he means it.

Maybe he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but he’s not going anywhere until he figures it out.

And when Steve settles down beside him in bed, and scooches just close enough that their arms are pressed together, Eddie figures maybe he’s not doing too badly, after all.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddiesteve #stranger things #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

[watchmegetobsessed]

MY HERO

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

PAIRING: nerdy!Harry x bartender!reader

WARNING: bit of a fight, blood

SUMMARY: Some drunk guy gets dirty with you when you refuse to serve him. Luckily, Harry is there to stand up for you, even if he is not too good at it.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It’s a Friday night, which means the bar is packed with college students, celebrating that they survived yet another week of the semester. There’s no empty table, the line at the bar seems never ending and the noise is way louder than the music playing through the speakers. A lot of your coworkers hate to work Friday and Saturday, because they hate the crowd, but you’re kind of okay with it. It keeps you busy, time passes by faster and the tips are always good, drunk college guys like to pay double for their drinks just to prove they have money, only to wake up with an empty wallet in the morning. But that’s not your business.

You haven’t sat down in hours, the rush was too big to have one less person behind the bar, so you’re a tad bit frustrated, but still holding on. Most of the crowd looks familiar to you, you see them almost every week, you could maybe even tell their major as well. You know what they usually drink and how they act whenever they had one too many beers. But there’s one person you know the most about and when you see him walk in your mood brightens immediately.

Harry has been a returning customer for the past two months or so. You still remember the first time he came in and asked for a double shot, you watched him take it and almost throw it up. He admitted he’s never taken a double and can barely force down a beer usually. He sat at the bar that night and you talked and talked until it was closing time.

He returned the next night, asked for a water and stayed until closing again.

You’ve gotten to know him well since then, he is the sweetest, kindest soul and the most amazing guy you’ve ever met. He likes to hide behind his glasses and books, he tends to stammer when he gets nervous and his nose twitches when he tastes something he doesn’t like.

When you started bartending you promised yourself not to fall for any guy. Well, Harry is not just any guy.

As you finish up an order you keep an eye on Harry and watch him fight his way to the bar, fixing his glasses when he finally makes it through the crowd. You give the drinks out and turn to him smiling.

“Hi, fancy a drink?” you ask, ignoring the whiny people who’s been waiting in line and were cut off by Harry.

“Hi! Y-Yeah, thank you,” he smiles back and you’re quick to make him a virgin cocktail.

He stays by the bar and keeps you company whenever you have a moment to talk. You ask him about his exam a few days ago and he asks if you’ve gotten your AC fixed already.

“No, the guy I had check it out gave me an insane offer, so I’m still saving up.”

“How much?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, but you know where he will end up, so you just smile at him and shake your head.

“Harry, I told you, I don’t want you to pay for it.”

“Hey! Get your sexy ass over here and serve us!” A voice calls out from across the bar and it makes the hair stand on your arms, but you force a smile on your face.

“I’ll be right back, Harry.” Walking across the bar you stand in front of the clearly drunk guy you’ve seen around here quite a few times before and he likes to give the bartenders a hard time whenever he is in the mood.

“What can I get you?” you ask looking at him while he is clearly looking at your chest.

“Three vodka shots and a beer. Make sure to bend down for that beer!” he laughs, the two other guy with him joining in, patting him on the back.

“I’ll shove up those shots into your dirty ass,” you mumble under your breath as you start pouring the drinks.

“If I double your tip will you get rid of that top?” he grins, still very much eyeing your breasts.

“Hey, if you don’t want spit in your drink, stop being an asshole!” You stop mumbling and this time you articulate it quite loud and clear.

“It’s a spicy one!” he whistles, still not taking you seriously. “I’ll take the second shot from your big mouth!” He holds one of the shots up and gulps it down.

“Alright, get the fuck out!” You grab the rest of the order and toss it into the sink, this finally gets his attention.

“Hey! You fucking bitch!”

“I said get out! The bar is closed for you!”

“I’m not going anywhere! You better give me free shots and a fucking blowjob to make up for the shit you did!”

“Hey, s-she said you have to leave!”

Harry is standing next to the guy, standing up for you, but you can tell he is terrified of the three guys.

“What? Is she your bitch or something?”

“Harry, don’t—“

“Don’t talk about her like that! She is—“

“This little nerd is in love with the hot bartender! You think you have a chance with her? She is just a cheap bitch who probably sucks off anyone for a fat tip.”

The moment is so surreal that you watch it frozen at first. Harry moves forward and pushes the guy, not too hard but since he’s drunk he stumbles backwards and it riles him up. The next thing you see is that he swings a fist at Harry and it meets with his nose. That’s what snaps you out of your frozen state.

It’s a shitshow from there, you climb over the bar to get between them and punch the drunk guy before he could get another hit in and this time he falls to the ground. His friends are about to pull him up and go against me, but another group of guys get involved and there’s six of them so they easily pull the troublemaker away from you, dragging them out of the bar.

Turning around you look at Harry who is holding his hand to his nose that’s bleeding and guilt starts eating you away right away, because he got hurt because of you.

“Hey, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You curl one of his arms around your shoulders and bring him to the back and away from the curious crowd. Reaching the changing room you sit him down to the bench and run off just for a moment to get a wet towel and an icepack for him.

“Look at me, let me see it.” You take his face in your hands gently and he hesitates before moving his hand away.

His glasses sit crooked on his nose that’s red and bloody, but as far as you can tell it’s not broken. Carefully, you take his classes off and start to pat his face gently to get the blood off.

He looks devastated and like a shadow of his usual self.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Just a little,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“You’re sorry? Y/N, I’m sorry!”

“For what?” you chuckle, tossing the towel to the floor and replacing it with the icepack. Harry winces and pushes it away. “For defending me? For standing up for me?”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t protect you. I wasn’t…”

He doesn’t say it, but you know what he was meaning to say. He wasn’t manly enough.

“Harry,” you exhale, putting the icepack to the side before taking his hands back into your hands. “What you did was… the bravest and most heroic thing anyone has ever did for me. You stood up for me even though you’re the last person to ever get into a fight and look at you, you almost got your nose broken for me!”

“I think you actually broke his face though, so you were the real hero,” he chuckles softly and he is finally returning, the sunshine, the warmth, it’s all back.

“You’re the hero, Harry Styles. And heroes deserve… a reward.”

You smile at him coyly, moving a little closer so he knows what you’re planning to do, giving him a chance to move away, but when he doesn’t, just looks at you intently, you finally press your lips against his.

You’ve been aching to do it for so long, the sweet, handsome, nerdy guy completely stole your heart from across the bar and now you finally have him all to yourself. You’re not even surprised that he is an amazing kisser, his soft lips move so perfectly with yours, you wonder what else they can do.

The kiss gets a little more heated and your nose brushes against his, which makes him wince and pull back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry!” you cover your mouth with your hand, but he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. It’s just a little sore.”

“Maybe we should get it checked out in a hospital.”

“I’m fine, really.”

Cheering is heard from outside and you realize you should get back to work, the rush is still not over.

“Stay here for as long as you want. I’ll be off the clock in an hour. Maybe you could… walk me home?”

“Yes! Yes, I-I… yes, I would love to walk you home.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm and leaning in you kiss him, careful not to hurt him.

“Alright, my hero.” You take his glasses and put them back on, fixing them so they sit straight. One last time you kiss him shortly and go back to work, smiling crazily for the next hour.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

[the-house-of-auditore-frye]

We need to talk about the men in MK1

Wow.

WOW.

I really don't understand how they managed to make everybody SO BLOODY ATTRACTIVE?!

Even characters like Reptile were made into Boyfriend material.

Kenshi is a babe. That's it. That's the statement - he's a babe. His attractiveness ascends my language abilities to articulate how attracted I am to him in this game.

And Johnny - SO DAMN FINE! They struck the perfect balance of all Johnny's qualities with the features of a young Harrison Ford (which my followers will know has a certain power over me). Also I love that they made Johnny a hot nerd - who doesn't love a man that was ready to just dive into ancient Japanese history during a conversation.

And of course my dear Kuai Liang SERVED LOOKS in this game - I could cut my hand on his jawline...

This game has made me PRIMAL in ways that are dangerous to my psyche... but am I going to stop panting over the thirst traps that are Kenshi Takahashi and Johnny Cage? No.

Under the cut, I'm going to put more details reason's about why and how I want these fictional men to rail me which will probably make more sense to me followers but by all means, feel free to read! (But I will warn, it gets explicit so reader discretion is advised)

The amount I desire these men to dominate me is just unhealthy but let's get back to basics.

So those of you who have followed me for a bit (or I guess just looked at my page) will know that I have loved Kuai Liang and Hanzo since MKX. In MKX, I also had the hots for Kenshi and Johnny but not to the same degree. Then MK11 came out, obviously Kenshi isn't in it. I liked Older Johnny but not younger Johnny. As for Liang and Hanzo, I liked them a lot but not as much as MKX.

Then this DAMN game was released and like the timeline, the whole playing field was reset.

Don't get me wrong, I still love Kuai Liang in this game: he gives off such tender Lover vibes that I just want to stay in his arms ALL DAY. I mentioned that jawline right? I loved him and I love what they did with the familial relationships between him, Bihan and Tomas. When it was first announced that Kuai Liang was going to be Scorpion, I wasn't thrilled since, in my heart, that will always belong to Hanzo. They landed it tastefully but I still miss him as Sub Zero. Overall, I loved Kuai Liang in this game but Kenshi and Johnny were on another level.

Kenshi. KENSHI. The hold this man has over me. I can't tell if I want to be tender with him or animalistic: I genuinely go from "I want to remove his blindfold and kiss his scarred eyes, reminding him how much I love him while softly running my fingers through his hair" to "I want Kenshi to remove his blindfold and tie me to the bed, reminding me that I'm his toy to play with in any way he sees fit while fingering me with his tattooed hands- OH. HIS HANDS. I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I WANT TO SUCH ON HIS FINGERS WHILE HE CALLS ME A GOOD GIRL. I AM SO SUBMISSIVE TO THIS MAN THAT IT'S NOT HEALTHY.

I think out of all the characters, I was most impressed by the characterisation of Johnny. Don't get me wrong, Mileena, Sindel, Baraka, Syzoth all got the storylines and re-characterisation they deserve but with Johnny I was more impressed because less changed about him. Like I said, I've always been a bit hit-or-miss with Johnny but this Johnny was perfection. Immediately making him a hot history nerd rather than an airhead was brilliant, it gave a depth to Johnny that I've never seen and it played off Kenshi perfectly. It's kind of like when you're with a group of people and a random topic you love comes up and suddenly you go on a 10 minute rant about why it's fascinating before realising everyone is just staring at you in confusion: it made Johnny so much more relatable. Also I love the sense of humour they went for in this game with Johnny. In prior games, I sometimes felt like Johnny was trying too hard to be funny for other people but in this game, Johnny is unintentionally hilarious and his jokes are mostly for himself and I love it. The first time I saw "Ripley!" I genuinely couldn't stop laughing for like 5 minutes. Also his beloved Hichulli, peak comedy. But let's get to the juicy stuff: HIS DESIGN. YES PLEASE, SIGN ME THE HELL UP FOR IT. I want to just cover his face in kisses. I want him to cover my face is kisses. Also his nose... I mean, I'm sure you guys have noticed that I like prominent noses and Johnny's when I saw his made me go red. MK1 Johnny going down on someone would be an ethereal experience (especially since he never stops talking which I might request a fic for) and part of that experience would be the nose. Just general though, the facial shape, the hair, the nose, the jawline: it all slays, just like Johnny.

So now having read all this, you can see why I don't let myself talk about the men of MK1: I just become a whore. This game opened my eyes to kinks I have NEVER been into cough cough threesome with Johnny and Kenshi cough cough blade play using Sento with Kenshi cough cough recorded sex with Johnny cough cough... In summation: this game has reduced me from a somewhat mentally adjusted young woman to a neanderthal that wants to be breeded by two fictional men called Kenshi Takahashi and Johnny Cage.

#mk1 2023 #mk1 #mk1 johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 2023 #kenshi takahashi #mk1 x reader #mk1 kenshi #johnny cage #kuai liang #Mk1 kenshi takahashi #hanzo hasashi #scorpion mk #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mortal kombat #johnny cage mk #johnny cage x you #kenshi #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x you

[ichxraaa]

WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?

featuring best friend getō suguru & corruption

good friends help each other and suguru has always been such a good friend.

warnings; fem!reader, chubby!reader, corruption, dumbification, fingering [fem receiving], fellation, dirty talk, squirting, getō calls you pretty.

MDNI!

It starts when you’re 15 and he teaches you how to kiss. It doesn’t feel like much back then, you’re just nervous about what to do in case your date tries to do something and Getō is kind enough to help you ease the nerves. If he is being honest it doesn’t mean too much to him back then either. He thinks it’s cute you’re so nervous about it and he doesn’t see the problem in giving you some pointers.

He’s such a nice friend.

Later that day when you tell him that you didn’t freeze when your crush went for a kiss at the end of the date he offers you a high five, followed by a small smile. He is happy for you and he thinks it’s funny how just a few hours ago you were so nervous about it.

The second time you shyly ask for some pointers on how to go down on someone. It’s been years after that first kiss you shared and you’re by no means teens anymore and he can’t hide his surprise at your request.

“What? Have you really never done it before?”

He is not judging you, you can tell by his tone that he is genuinely curious, after all you’ve had a couple boyfriends even if they didn’t last for too long.

You sputter in an embarrassed confession that a guy you were seeing made an unfortunate comment about your technique and Getō has to suppress the need to hunt him down and bury him in a hole in favor of comforting you.

“Want me to help you practice?”

You can feel your face heat up at his implication, especially when he seems so nonchalant about it. “I didn't mean it like that!”

Your friend reaches for your cheek and squeezes, amused smirk heating up your face and forcing you to take your eyes apart from his face.

Sometimes it’s too dangerous to be best friends with him. Sometimes you can’t tell if he is joking or not, and that’s not good for you heart.

“I just wanted to know if there’s something that most guys like or something…”

That’s when it starts to go downwards, cause Getō doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the way your pretty eyes stare at him as you drool around his cock. it’s unnatural the way his cock throbs as you kneel in front of him, thick thighs splaying on the carpet as you settle between his legs.

His breath chokes on his throat when your hesitant hands reach for his waistband and your eyes widen as he helps you to take out his cock from the black cotton of his briefs. It’s cute, you’re cute and when your hand wraps around him it has him exhaling through his nose.

Something possesses him that day. He isn’t sure exactly what it is but it has something to do with the raw vulnerability you exhibit in front of him, and when your lashes end up getting wet cause he lost control at the end of the lesson but you don’t seem to mind… He feels something stirring inside him. And it drives him insane.

He starts to notice you in a way he’s never seen you before. The way you move, the way you articulate, the way your lips get glossy when you’re sucking on a lollipop and he can’t believe how long he’s gone without noticing how utterly kissable you are.

The swell of your ass as you parade in a dangerously short skirt before going out with your friends has his eyes glued to the fullness of the expanse of your legs, dimples and softness so close to reach yet so far to touch.

There are a couple of accidental brushes as he passes you by. Testing and enjoying the way your eyes get shy even if you don’t like it. He likes how you shiver when his arms sneak around your soft waist. He says he’s only doing it because the street is too crowded and you don’t have any reason to not believe him, he is such a caring friend after all.

And then one day his hand reaches for the waistband of your shorts as you’re watching a movie at his place, thumb dancing around the lower part of your stomach and your breath hitches when he places his mouth near your ear.

“Keep watching the movie”.

“Do guys know how to properly finger you?”

It’s teasing, the way his fingers hover over the hem of your shorts, and Getō can see your eyes going glossy as you look up at him. He can see your breath choking on your throat, dark eyes going opaque as he watches you gulp, trying to say or do anything about the way his hand has begun to pull down your shorts along with your panties.

He breathes against your neck, slow kisses reaching your lips until you’re gasping into his mouth and his eyes open for a second, and you look so pretty with your lips wet and your eyes closed as your hands have reached for the hem of his shirt.

It’s so exciting how easily you give in and just spread your legs for him. You’re already wet and it just feels right as his index and middle finger dive between the warm embrace of your folds. Your juices coat his fingers and when he reaches for your clit you moan into the kiss in a way that has his cock jumping and uncomfortably pressing into his zipper.

He doesn’t think he’ll be able to go back from this, it’s hypnotic the way your hips rut into his hand as his fingers slide in and out of your twitching hole in a steady pace that has you whinnying. He enjoys you too much like this,

“Do you like it?” His voice reaches your brain from a far away place, smooth and sweet and so intoxicating that has you clenching around his ministrations “This”, his fingers press deeper against your sore spot hooking and applying a come hitting motion. It’s embarrassing and too much and you don’t like how similar this feels ti needing to pee

You ask him to stop, say it’s too much but he doesn’t stop, mouth kissing the top of your head as he feels you clenching around him. He can see it in your eyes, you’re so close and he needs to see you cum, and he knows you can take it, cause your legs are trembling and your mouth is open in an obscene and delicious image, but what’s more is that you are rutting into his touch despite your protest’s.

It’s numbing, you can’t hear or think for a couple of seconds that feel like an hour. Your mouth goes agape in a silent scream as you cum in a way you’ve only heard about in passing.

“This is what squirting feels like”.

“You look really dumb right now, did you know that”. He leans down over you, tongue darting out to reach for your lips and you follow suit instinctively in a desperate need for a kiss that has him reaching to squish your cheeks between his free hands with such devotion that you’re unable to move. Getō’s eyes turn opaque as he engraves this sight of your soft eyes on his mind forever. “And you also look so pretty, you’re too fucking hot”.

He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed and you moan into him as he continues to hit your sweet spot with perfect precision. Your legs kick and tremble and you can’t feel anything that isn’t the way that you’re coming, so strong and violent that a new wave of squirt runs down between your legs in what you can’t help but think of as a pathetic display.

“Suguru…”

Your voice makes his head spin, and he ruts into your ass without an ounce of shame.

“No more lessons, what I’m going to do next I need you to know that I’m doing it because I want to, okay?”

#suguru geto x reader #chubby reader #jjk imagines #geto x reader #suguru geto x you #jjk scenarios #jjk headcanons #suguru geto imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[tiredspacedragon]

Absolute Power... does what exactly?

It's interesting how much the marketing of early-mid 2002 toyed with the idea of the Toa Nuva being evil. There's this snippet from an ad in the comics

There's this commercial for the sets with its deeply ominous tone

The way the narrator just spits out "Toa Nuva," as if the name itself is cursed, has always given me chills.

And then even Divided We Fall, the first comic set after the Toa's transformation, cold opens with the Nuva fighting amongst themselves, making it seem as though they've lost their minds or some of their number have gone mad with power before eventually revealing it was all just a training session.

I don't exactly know what to make of all this. It seems like the notion was to play with the idea that power corrupts, that the Toa Nuva's new, increased power may overtake them and make them the new greatest threat to Mata Nui. But of course this thread never goes anywhere. In-story, the Toa Nuva are much more emblematic of the philosophy that power doesn't corrupt, it reveals. The Toa don't turn evil or become cruel because of their new power, they're just more themselves. Tahu and Kopaka's pride reaches new heights and tensions between them soar, Lewa is the same reckless loner he always was, Pohatu is still a certified Good Boi, Onua is even quieter, and Gali is still insistent on unity but unable to articulate why it matters. None of them stop being heroes or even really change at all. The message of the Nuva's early struggles is more about the greater weight of responsibility that comes with their greater power (hi Spider-Man, what are you doing here?) than any kind of meditation on the morality of the power itself. And then from there the Nuva powers go on to be nothing but an asset.

I wasn't around in the fandom back in 2002, so I'd love to hear what people who were thought of this. Were there more examples I missed? Was there actual tension over the idea that the Toa could go bad, or did everyone pretty much know they'd be fine? It's probably nothing but a weird marketing gimmick, but the fact that they teased the possibility so much makes me feel like it couldn't have all just been for one quick fake-out.

#bionicle #bionicle retrospective #toa nuva

[xayneimagines]

Buggy Baby: Improper use of ChopChop

Fandom:One piece

Pairing: Buggy(Sub) x Reader(Dom. She/They. MC)

Genre: Filthy smut and fluffy aftercare

Content tags: Smut, pegging, dom/sub, use of ‘baby boy’ ‘pretty boy’. Praise kink. God did not make the Devil fruit for such sins. After care like a proper dom should. He’s a crier. Reader got a cunt but uh…it’s not really used much here. Just kind of mentioned for description purposes.

I use “~” too much. No, I won't change.

TW: None? I think? If I’m wrong, tell me.

Apology:Sorry it took longer than I wanted it to. There has been some shit going on lol. There might be some mistakes cause I couldn’t get someone to look it over and I’m dyslexic and a them-bo

~~~~~~~~~~~

All that MC could hear was the sounds of flesh against flesh and Buggy’s whimpers as they fucked into him. The grip she had on his hips was damn near turning her knuckles white as she continued to bring his ass back to meet each thrust, plunging his own cock further into him.

“Fuck~ You’re so pretty, Buggy~.”

“Mmm…mmm…fuck, fuck, fuck, please MC~” He was barely able to pant out each word, voice trembling along with each push of her hips into his. They always thought he looked so beautiful like this, drenched in sweat and begging her. She just wished he could see his cute flushed face, but they hadn’t had the foresight to ask him to pop his head off. Maybe they should invest in a mirror…

“Please what, Buggy baby. How do you want me to fuck my sweet captain tonight?” She panted out, a sheen of sweat on her forhead just from the actions of fucking him alone. The only real stimulation being given to her was the feeling of Buggy’s balls sometimes slapping against her, but fuck, watching him like this was more than enough to satisfy her.

While he could move his dick however he wished typically, being fucked out of his mind already made him falter too much. Thankfully, the harness MC purchased kept his dick sitting nice and pretty right where they needed it, pressed against her cunt.

“F…fast, flashy, fast.” They loved when he got like this. All he could do was whimper and repeat a few key words that his mind latched onto. They let out a playful giggle, one hand moving to push on the middle of his back while she propped up one of her legs all to make sure she could reach him nice and deep.

With one hand still on his hip, they started thrusting faster, using the leverage of her legs to help drive her further and deeper than before.

“F-f-f-FUCk~” Buggy’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as one of his hands detached, flying to grip the back of MC’s head in hopes that clinging to the strands there could keep him grounded. He always seemed to lose himself to her, mind only able to focus on how good they fucked him. Even before they switch to using his cock instead of a toy he found it too easy to just melt into her. Now there was no chance with the amount of stimulation he was getting. Feeling how he stretched around himself, cock pulling in and out fast enough so that he never felt empty. It was just so good.

And then he heard MC moan as his fingers buried into her hair and pride shot through him like a damn cannon. He loved being good for them. Being her good boy.

As if MC sensed his thoughts…

“Fuck, you’re such a pretty boy for me, Buggy~ Look at you taking your dick so god damn well~ How can you not love this perfect body of yours.” Praises fell from her mouth just as his tongue lolled out of his, knowing how much he needed the praise. Sometimes he thought he could cum from her pretty words alone, but it was hard to articulate that to them right now.

“P..perfect?” He barely managed to whimper out the words, breath leaving him each time his cock would bottom out.

“Mmm, yeah baby. Could watch you bounce all day like this~ Fuck, you know how you make me feel~ I gotta show you how much I appreacite you, yeah? Show you how much of a good slut you can be for me?” She asked, panting between each word as she continued to fuck into him. She might not have been able to feel him clench at her words, but god did she love to see it.

“Good slut. Good slut for you~ Fuck, there!” He shouted as his cock brushed against his prostate, keeping to their agreement to always tell her when she finds the perfect angle. MC drilled into his head to call it out every time they did this, saying she wanted to make sure his sweet spot never got neglected just cause she couldn’t feel it through his cock.

When “there” left his lips she made sure to angle her hips to hit it everytime, the bed under them rocking violently and headboard hitting the wall. There wasn’t any point to being quiet. The crew knew well enough. She could tell he was getting closer as the ramblings turned into just sounds and shouts, his dick sputtering against its harness but unable to move or flail.

“Gonna cum for me? My good boy wants me to make sure his ass is nice and filled up?”

“Y..yes! Yes, fuck! Fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“Where you want your cum baby?~ Better be a good boy and tell me what you want before you’re done~” She quickened the pace, almost hoping he’d forget to tell her just so that she could find a fun way to punish him for it.

“In!! Want it in! Fuck, please!”

She grinned at his words, leaning over his body and biting down onto his neck playfully as her brutal pace continued, not even bothering to try and pull all the way out before plunging back in. No, if he wanted it in, she’d make sure it would stay deep inside and not one drop would risk getting spilled out.

He cried out, cum shooting from his dick and coating his own insides, the grip on her hair tightening briefly just before his hand seemed to fall off of her head. As he came she slowed her pace, wanting to make sure to ease him down from his high, his flaccid dick slowly rubbing against his insides before he fully collapsed onto the bed.

MC started to pepper sweet kisses over his shoulder and back, waiting for him to tell her he was ready for her to pull himself out. Each soft kiss came with a gentle praise about how well he did and how good he always made her feel.

“You did so good, buggy. The best performance I’ve ever seen. So flashy and beautiful.” Of course she was still horny, but this hasn’t been about her anyway. She wanted to make sure he felt as good as he deserved to feel, and she didn’t mind going without cumming if it’s for him.

“You…you can…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but she knew what he meant. Slowly she pulled out, separating their body just enough once she did so that her hand could undo the clasp keeping his cock in place. She giggled when it seemed to just fall, moving to grab it slowly and put it back on its owner. Buggy hissed a little at the touch, but didn’t protest it. She always made sure to put him back together again after tearing him apart like this.

“You’re so good for me, Buggy.” They whispered, wanting to make sure as he came to the first thing he’d register was the praises. “You cry so pretty every time. I swear, there’s nothing better than you coming undone, my love.” She whispered it into his ear before her teeth slightly pulled at the lobe, checking to see if he was even awake.

A chuckle answered her before he slowly moved to lay onto his back, hand finally reattaching. MC let him get comfortable before she laid her head on his chest and arms around his midsection. He never cared about being a big or a little spoon. He always just needed to touch her afterwards.

“Course I do! I’m the best!” His words were enthusiastic despite the fact they were laced with exhaustion. He always felt like king of the world after she fucked his mind blank. All he could do was say yes mam and agree with whatever she said. That and, of course, whisper love repeatedly.

“Don’t sleep yet. I gotta clean you up now.” MC said with a grin as they looked up at their sleepy clown who frowned a little.

“I’m the captain and captains orders is for you to stay right here and sleep with me.” He declared, barely able to keep his eyes open. She giggled and moved up to kiss his cheek.

“Fine, captain. You can nap. But I do need to clean up all this mess before it fully dries. So be a good boy, and let me.” Their words turned sultry as she kissed his lips. He hummed in annoyance, but let go of her waist to allow it.

She moved quickly to grab the bucket of water and rag she had placed in their room ahead of time. Of course soap would be better, but there was no way she was gonna be able to convince him to bathe fully right now. She dipped the rag into the water, rung it out, and sat on the bed. She started with his stomach, gently running the rag over his body with love and careful affection. She tried to be even more gentle with his sensitive cock, a small whimper coming from him every time she lightly wiped at the tip. When she got to where she would need his ass, she gently tapped his thighs.

“Come on, pretty. You gotta roll over or lift your hips for this part. Unless you got the energy to detach.”

“If I detach I’m not getting back together again.” He barely managed to whimper, eyes fully closed now as he let her clean him. He groaned a little when she taped his thigh again, but slowly lifted a leg so that it would rest on her shoulder. She quickly grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under his hips so that he didn’t have to strain to stay hoisted, and she gently ran the rag along his ass.

“There we go. We’ll take a full shower in the morning. Thirsty?” She asked, tossing the rag into the bucket while she placed a kiss to the inside of his calf. She was a little shocked to see his eyes opened again, staring at her. A moment of silence passed between them before he held his arms open a little.

“Just love me.”

“Don’t be silly, Buggy. I already do.”

#buggy the clown x reader #buggy the closn smut #buggy the clown imagine #buggy x reader #reader insert #buggy imagine #I just wanna wreck him

[lollytea]

Love the idea that the feral, hormonal Willow post and the dress measurements post take place simultaneously, so you have this teenage girl holding onto her restraint by the skin of her teeth and then suddenly getting a text from her boyfriend with his measurements because??? what???does she do with this??? Is he making a move?? Is something happening here?? It’s probably too forward to send her own, right?? Should she just go for it or gather intel from her friends first?? meanwhile Hunter is just like “I’m gonna make Willow such a pretty dress :D”

YES!! That is exactly what's going on here. I have this vision of how Willow and Hunter's romantic relationship started off. Things moved quite slow, because Hunter got overwhelmed very easily and Willow liked him so much and didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in what should be a safe space. It's very new and neither of them really know how to approach romance immediately, but one of them desperately wants to practise and one of them needs more time to ease into it.

Willow is always watching Hunter with sharp eyes, intently reading his body language, waiting for any kind of signal that he'd like to do a little more than hold her hand. It's usually Willow that initiates the less nerve wracking stuff like hugs and hand holding and casual affection, but she let Hunter kiss her first. She's very proud of herself for noticing the way he glanced at her mouth or she wouldn't have asked "do you want to kiss me?" and then he wouldn't have done it. Whenever Hunter initiates something, Willow knows he wants this. She knows they're making progress.

Once during a group movie night, he fell asleep resting against her side and she laid in that uncomfortable position all fucking night. He eventually started sleep snuggling her and she she was fucking EXHILERATED. This is what she's been starving for.

A headcanon that I hold so near and dear to my heart is that Willow is secretly batshit insane. Totally bonkers. Off the fucking rails. Yknow just in general. And Hunter definitely makes the crazy flare up. But she's always been good at hiding it so nobody suspects a thing.

Hunter is not very good at articulating how he feels about Willow but he's desperate to express it in any way that he can. So he's always doing nice things for her. And making her laugh. And supporting her in any way that he can. And surprising her with little gifts that he made.

Willow also isn't all that good at articulating how she feels about Hunter. "You're cute" and "You mean a lot to me <3" and other casual flirty lines are used a lot but she's not quite covering the extent of emotions. She feels a lot more intensely than that. She can't really put it all into words. All these feelings give her the unbearable urge to start gnawing on his flesh like a fucking damn griffin drumstick.

The texts make her wanna act up somethin fierce

Hello_willow: what are these?

RULERZREACHF4N: My hip, waist and bust size <3

Willow at her fucking LIMIT:

What does that MEAN?? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? Is this flirting? Maybe Hunter's idea of a scandalous text?? She knows from whispers in the hallways that sometimes significant others send pics when they wanna get bold. Like shirtless pics. She has been hoping every damn day that one day her scroll is gonna buzz and its her shy boyfriend, deciding that he likes the way his chest looks today and he wants to show it off to her. But it can never be that simple, can it? NO. Her fucking tailor of a boyfriend it trying to speak to her in tailor language and she can NOT fucking fumble him right now because there's a chance that if she gets this right, she might get to put her hands on the areas that he has given her the measurements of.

Hello_willow: Oh

Is she supposed to compliment him on his beautiful measurements? His broad chest? His slim waist? Should she say that she'd have no problems wrapping her arms around him? That he is the perfect size for squeezing? That she wants to come over and see for herself if he's being honest? Is that what he wants to hear?

RULERZREACHF4N: Is there something you want to tell me? :)

Willow panics, suddenly feeling the pressure to answer quick. What does he want?? WHAT DOES HE WANT????

She quickly decides that she CANNOT be bold here. Because all of the things she wants to say are shockingly indecent.

That's when she realizes. It's Hunter. Hunter, who told her yesterday that he used to be scared of the dark when he was little. Hunter, who might be trying, in his own weird Hunter way, to be a little more vulnerable. Give her more personal details about himself, so she knows that he trusts her and feels safe with her. Like when a beast rolls over on its belly.

A little of Willow's tension melts away. He's very sweet. She likes him an awful lot.

Not knowing how to proceed, Willow awkwardly tries to let him know that she appreciates him telling her things that he thinks are important.

Hello_willow: thank you

Feeling a little unsure, she adds a question mark at the end. And then, upon getting a few seconds of silence on the other end, she panics again and hurriedly types another message. A little more upfront this time.

Hello_willow: I love learning new things about you Hun. You have very elegant measurements <3

Another twenty seconds pass.

RULERZREACHF4N: Thanks. You're sweet <3

HALLELUJAH TO THE TITAN, TO THE SON AND TO THE HOOTY GHOST!!! HE THINKS SHES SWEET!!! SHE IS GONNA GET TO HOLD HIS HIPS TONIGHT!!!!

RULERZREACHF4N: Can I have your Dad's number?

NO!!! HOW THE FUCK DID SHE FUMBLE THIS!!!!

#huntlow

[captain-hen]

the ‘sunshine personified’ / ‘he makes everyone around him happy’ thing is sooo interesting because i don’t think we’ve really seen that from buck, have we? and by that i specifically mean in the fanon context of buck being the social PTA dad at all of chris’s school functions while eddie broods in the corner and only wants to talk to buck. if anything, we’ve seen the opposite behavior with eddie — he’s clearly good friends with chris’s friends’ parents, he was so happy and glowy when he first met the 118, he befriended may and linda so easily at dispatch, and i could go on and on.

he just seems to connect with people so easily, and i think a lot of that genuine friendliness is lost on people because he also has a tendency to get casually snarky with people he isn’t so fond of, whether it’s annoying temporary coworkers or selfish people on calls or opportunistic reporters. the same thing goes for his private nature vs. buck’s bleeding heart — it’s assumed that eddie isn’t a people person because he likes to keep his innermost feelings close to his chest and it’s also assumed that buck is good at instantly forming connections bc his feelings spill out of him at all times.

and like. it’s not that buck isn’t a kind and friendly person, but i do feel like his specialty is deep acts of love for the people he loves. idk if i’m articulating this right but i’m trying to point out that he’s never more ‘sunshine personified’ than when he’s with the 118 and co. he would do anything for them and he lights up around them in a way that he doesn’t really do with anyone else. and we haven’t seen him be so casually close to people outside that friend group.

when we got a glimpse of connor and buck’s friendship, it seemed more about what they could do for each other than about true connection. when we got that episode about buck and red, a lot of it was projection on buck’s part re. his fear of abandonment and his desire not to let his future turn out like red’s and it was also about his need to fix things for everyone else so he can feel like he’s needed. when he met lucy, he was desperate to fill a void and not feel as hollow as he felt going home to taylor kelly every night with his sister and his brother in law and his partner gone.

don’t get me wrong, i’m not trying to ascribe selfish motivations to buck bc i do believe he always tries to do the right thing, but when it comes to people outside of the 118, with the way it’s been written in canon, i feel like those dynamics have always been more about his own issues than they’ve been about actual friendship. and this isn’t even getting into how he acts when he feels like someone new is encroaching on his territory (see: eddie in 2x01 and lena). idk….i just think that kind of casual connection comes so much easier to eddie for whatever reason. maybe it’s because his abandonment issues are a whole other flavor, or because eddie’s upbringing was so different from buck’s. either way, it’s so interesting and ppl blinded by fanon are really missing out. i apologize for the long ass rambling and i don’t think i really articulated this well, so TL;DR — fanon sunshine buck and broody eddie do not exist in canon and i’m Very excited to see the way that mr. possessive, jealous, broody evan buckley acts when eddie meets someone new this week :)

no, you're so right about all of this, though! buck genuinely does light up and is at his most comfortable and golden retriever-like around the 118, because he sees them as family and trusts them so much—and i think people get carried away and attribute the same thing to everything else (like, for example, the social PTA dad thing). when in canon, buck on multiple occasions has not dealt with new people too well—whether it was eddie, or lena, or ravi...and now, as it looks like, tommy. and you kinda hit the nail on the head about how most of buck's relationships outside the 118 being very transactional in nature up to this point, it's sad, but it's true.

eddie is the complete opposite in this regard, though, like, the guy goes around collecting new friends like they're pokemon. lol. he is so wildly different to the fandom portrayal of him as this anti-social loner that i struggle with understanding how people even got there in the first place (i mean, i know why. but still).

anyway, buck's issues with jealousy and insecurity are sooo interesting to delve into as character flaws and so much more compelling than fandom's portrayal of him as a perfect angel baby who's never done anything wrong, but 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ at least i have canon giving me the stuff i want lol

#neethu answers #anon

[nymphbroadcast]

Heartslabyul x MC! like Rosie

⊹Synopsis ⊹ೃ 🌹⋆The Heartslabyul boys with a MC! or Yuu like Rosie.

⊹Relationship ⊹ೃ 🌹⋆ Fall in love / free of interpretation.

⊹FEM! MC/Yuu/Reader ⊹ೃ 🌹⋆

⊹Clarifications: I changed the fact that MC! Rosie is a cannibal for obvious reasons and the age of the reader is not specified in case they want to interpret themselves as another species that is not human. I specify that MC! has great talent in the kitchen because Auntie Rosie really gives me THAT expert cook vibes.

⊹Rosie's Analysis ⊹ೃ 🌹⋆

• Rosie is a capable and articulate woman, quite gentle and friendly but no one knows if she is really honest, she is intelligent, patient, courteous, elegant and charming when interacting with others. She is especially kind and affectionate with those she considers her friends, she is very close to her group and is a very good and efficient leader, just as she is kind she can also be intimidating and authoritarian when she wants, her jokes can be somewhat old, which She is right with her taste for the old and old-fashioned, she is good at giving advice and can even offer to solve other people's problems herself, she is a kind host, giving her guests a place to sit and rest and offering to give them food before accepting listen to their problems and possibly offer help, however she also has her dark side, being someone very intelligent and astute, it is relatively easy for her to find people's weaknesses or virtues and manipulate them to her convenience. Among her tastes are cooking, old-fashioned music and meat, she is talented in areas such as cooking and music, especially in singing and charisma, and it is easy to get attached to her and her intelligence, deducing quick solutions to problems.

Riddle Rosehearts

🌹Riddle sees you as a kind of mother, the way you speak to him and see him proudly when he has an achievement makes his little heart feel warm with the maternal affection that he never really had.

🌹 You are his best advisor when he feels overwhelmed or stressed, your calm attitude helps him calm down and think with a cool head.

🌹 Your taste for old or outdated doesn't really bother him, in fact he finds it cute that you look like an ancient woman despite you're apparently being his age.

🌹 Riddle thanks you for calming down the uni-neural duo Adeuce's antics and keeping them calm at least for a while, before you has to be dragged with them into another problem.

🌹 Riddle probably didn't see many movies growing up and only saw a few with his mother, so he probably knows Mary Poppins and might find it curious how much you look like that old character.

🌹 Riddle loves your style and how you combine it with the aesthetics of his dorm, the red and pink colors with black in your elegant and sophisticated outfits remind him a lot of roses and in general of his dorm, along with your good education and good manners he thanks heaven (Crowley) that for once he doesn't have to deal with another troublemaker.

🌹 Due to his closed thinking, Riddle is glad that you like old music, because his mother used to listen to that type when he was younger and almost automatically he learned it by heart, so there are times when both of them do duets in private, singing songs that almost no one at school could recognize.

🌹 The first time he saw your imposing and somewhat... sadistic side... he was paralyzed, for the first time he saw you approach someone without your kind smile and instead it was a smile almost without emotions and as if you were about to eat someone alive (wink~ wink~), at that moment he swore never to turn you against him and even less to get you angry.

🌹 Hiss tea parties are the best since you are present at them and accompany him, your conversations never bore him, whether it is a story of mischief with the duo Adeuce and Grimm or that you have heard some gossip from a student, you always have something what to tell him.

Ace Trappola

♥ YOU HAVE BEEN PROMOTED TO UNOFFICIAL GODMOTHER OF ACE-

♥ This boy is very prone to getting himself and the others around him into trouble, so luckily you are there to control his recklessness.

♥ When Ace is angry or frustrated, whether because of Riddle or because the basketball club lost a game, he comes to you to feel comforted and pampered. You are good at listening to all his complaints and watching him vent without feeling judged. (even if you almost never understand him, because he speaks too complicated and fast-)

♥ However, you always scold him and avoid his disasters when he act like a brat.

♥ Your taste for things that are old-fashioned and old makes him wonder if you are really his age, in addition to your strange way of speaking and your manners reminding him of the old ladies in his neighborhood, however he will never criticize you and instead he may ask you one thing or another joke about that.

♥ It must be said that Ace has quite a sweet tooth, but you managed to convince him to come to you and not to steal Riddle's pies, Ace would never admit out loud the fact that he feels like a spoiled child trying the delicacies you cook for him.

♥ Ace is tender when he wants to, he really likes being with you without doing anything because you tend to spoil him and take care of him. (ROSIE HAS A LOT OF A CUTE MOM VIBES)

♥ Just as Ace is a total idiot, you are a sweetheart of a person, no one knows how the hell you ended up with him and they start to think that Ace put a spell on you or something.

♥ Aside from your good taste and talent in food, Ace is a little disturbed by the fact that you sometimes make either desserts or meals in the shape of human body parts... in addition to your jokes about cannibalism.

♥ Ace admires how easy it is for everyone to like you, he would pay anything to have your talent... I mean, even Riddle adores you!... that may or may not include the fact that he takes advantage of some people 'cause they have you appreciated

♥ In short, he loves you, although sometimes you seem like an old cartoon character because of your personality and tastes, he loves you because you are his compass in his impulse of idiocy.

Deuce Spade

♠️ Deuce... Deuce... this poor boy is exploding with love, we all know this boy LOVES his mother and the fact that you are like one really takes him through the roof.

♠️ Oh your food! Add Deuce to your list of the most loyal (free) customers in all of Twisted Wonderland! this boy dies for your food! It will actually eat anything you give to him, even if he ends up rounder than a ball.

♠️ Oh yeah, you're definitely what he needs, pull his ear when he does something stupid! or reward him with your love when he achieves a goal! this man is at your feet.

♠️ Regarding your tastes... he doesn't really know what to think, on the one hand he finds the fact that you look like an old lady in the fashion of the time adorable and on the other hand it confuses him... How old did you say you were? Are you sure you weren't born in 1920?... oh don't be offended! It just means that you see a lot of those times! It's a compliment!

♠️ Oh I really think Deuce would learn some of your songs just from you, plus he probably knows them if his mother used to listen to them or if he shares tastes with you! I really think Deuce would be a gentleman, even looking at the ground 7/24 when dancing with you so as not to step on you.

♠️ He probably takes photos of you to send to his mother or something, he's really fascinated by how your style combines with your youth and elegance. PS: Mama Spade is already scheduling everything to meet you, lady!

♠️ Deuce really appreciates your advice and teachings, he has improved a lot since he applied them, from his grades to his social relationships, oh my god, this man is going to marry you as soon as you both graduate.

♠️ Deuce believes that you were really meant to be in Heartslabyul, your care with animals, how you don't fail a single Riddle rule and how you have such a motherly relationship with everyone... Deuce admires you the most, girl.

♠️ Deuce notices how you tend to prefer his manners, often jokingly comparing him to Ace and saying something like: "Oh Deuce, polite as always. Ace! You can learn something from him!" And there you have it, as red as Riddle's hair as he feels blessed by the gods to see you so comfortable with him.

♠️ However, you also take care of reminding him that not everyone is good, taking care of his naivety, reminding him that an action can sometimes be worth a thousand words. He thanks you.

♠️ In the end, Deuce realizes that you are perfect for him: Intelligent, wise, educated, friendly and so beautiful in his eyes. You can bet what you want, but this guy will ask you to marry him as soon as he can! Do us a favor and take care of him, this boy loves you very much!

Trey Clover

♣️ Oh boy... There's finally a mom to take care of the big brother of all Heartslabyul! Girl, please take care of this man...

♣️ I think we all know Trey's caring tendency with his teammates, in the end he is surprised when he realizes that you are trying to take care of him and advise him, because usually the one who assumes that role is usually him.

♣️ Sometimes you have to remind him that just like his peers, he is a teenager and should focus on enjoying his youth! The poor man is always taking care of others and forgets about himself :(

♣️ You and Trey are a cute duo, you both cook excellent and take care of others... Who knew you weren't married huh?

♣️ Your old style and taste for the old-fashioned is curious, in reality it doesn't bother him since it is your own style and good for you if it makes you happy.

♣️ It only takes a few minutes for him to realize your resemblance to certain old characters cough Mary Poppins cough... And your exotic way of speaking, I honestly doubt he's ever heard someone with your accent and idioms before aside from one or another old woman.

♣️ Couple's hobby! You two definitely cook together! He is splendid with desserts and you with the common dinner! especially meat!... Trey sometimes doesn't know whether to laugh or ask for help when you start making certain black jokes about human flesh... (That no one understands)

♣️ Trey is amused by your musical nature, you actually sing or hum old songs while you cook or do other things my goodness! He may even end up learning them by listening to you.

♣️ Oh god, take care of this man for us! He's so tired of being the one who takes care of him!... please don't hesitate to pull his ear when he tries to disobey out of mere habit-

Cater Diamond

♦️ TAKE NOTE: CATER IS TURNING YOU INTO A MAGICAME MODEL.

♦️ My God. Cater loves your aesthetic, you give him the most beautiful vintage and dark vibes that he can't resist taking photos of you and uploading them to Magiacme. (with your permission.)

♦️ I don't think Cater will stop when it comes to teaching you about the technology, because even if you don't use it much you still agree to listen to him talk as much as he wants about it.

♦️ Let's say it, Cater is not really as we know him... And he tries to hide it, however you are always there to give him words of support and a sweet hug that takes him out of his turbulent mind.

♦️ Cater will definitely help you create content on networks if you access, cooking recipes, tips or pure photos with your aesthetic. Count on him!

♦️ Cater is amazed by your musical talent, although your voice may not be that of a modern singer who hits exaggerated notes, you know how to use your own voice and create a beautiful symphony and you can bet that Cater records it, even if it is just for him. (With your permission.)

♦️ Cater is already planning the wedding, he can already imagine you in a beautiful white dress with a "mermaid tail" skirt, a beautiful dress adorned with roses or white feathers, your beautiful smile that lights up her days... oh god, you have this man in your hands.

♦️ Cater loves your advice accompanied by a delicious meal or a simple cup of tea, Cater may not like sweets but you especially know how to make him eat some healthy sugar from time to time without making him feel disgusted or directly unable to swallow, now you're the Star chef of Heartslabyul. (Trey prepares the desserts)

♦️ Cater loves being with you, even if it's in silence or listening to your vintage music while you simply rest in each other's presence, this poor boy is tired and you are his comfort.

♦️ Congratulations, you have adopted five children with emotional problems! Now you are the mother/godmother of Heartslabyul, they love you and you love them, please take care of them! and I recommend that you start charging Crowley for the therapy of these boys, because you're leaving here married.

Nymph's Note:

My life is crazy, I had a flood in my apartment due to the negligence of a plumber... you have no idea of ​​the chaos of things I currently live in, documents and clothes got wet, I have had to send many things to wash... Well, life goes on :), I finally managed to finish this one! Rosie really is one of my favorite characters, she's a beauty and I really feel like she fits like a glove with Heartslabyul.

I hope you enjoyed!

Remember to tune in, end of this broadcast!

Heartslabyul Dorm x MC! Like Rosie Done!

Next: Savanaclaw Dorm x MC! Like Carmilla Carmine???

#twisted wonderland headcanons #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #heartslabyul #heartslaybul x reader #twst deuce #twst x reader #twst ace #twst mc #twst trey #twst cater #twst heartslabyul #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #rosie the cannibal #rosie hazbin hotel

[jjasen]

more than the world itself

summary: just a collection of my personal rafe headcannons about his childhood ❀

warnings: Ward Cameron (ew); this is about Rafe’s childhood trauma, especially concerning his father and his mother’s death so please read with care!

word count: 2.2k

a/n: I envision Rafe’s mom to be half French, half Portuguese fyi! ❀

It’s a languorously lazy Sunday morning, the kind where sunlight has been streaming through the gauzy curtains for well over an hour and warming the fluffy comforter. You and Rafe have been stirring in a state somewhere in between slumber and wakefulness for the past half hour. He finally lets out a groan as he stretches and yawns, muscular forearms flexing alluringly. Reaching out to hold you tightly, he buries his face in the nape of your neck, your hair tickling his nose. The sweet scent of your shampoo fills his senses as he pulls you closer to him under the crisp cotton sheets.

His fingers lightly drum, absentmindedly, rhythmically against your sternum as he often does, tracing an invisible melody across your skin. You frequently wonder about the root of this subconscious habit of his, wanting to understand everything about him, what makes Rafe Rafe. Sometimes he sits at the bench of the glossy black piano at Tannyhill, fingers hovering above the gleaming keys, but you’ve never heard him play. Once you asked him about it, if he could play something for you, and the flat tone of his no articulated to you that this was just another topic that was off-limits, one of the many that caused Rafe to tense up, a furrow forming between his brows as he clenched his jaw and changed the subject with a sense of finality.

You are not the pushy type of partner, not wanting to press Rafe into sharing more than he is willing, wanting him to be able to confide to you in his own time, but you sometimes wish that he could talk to somebody, if not you, about his past, his thoughts, the things that he had done. Because somewhere inside of Rafe, there is a broken, angry boy, who hungers for more than you can possibly fathom, and sometimes you fear that he will always be there. That time will not heal Rafe’s wounds.

Turning around to loop your arms around his neck, you press a soft kiss to his mouth before you broach the subject that’s been on your mind since yesterday afternoon.

“Rafe, my love,” you say, skimming a hand over his broad shoulder, “I was thinking about something.”

He looks down at you under his golden lashes, his eyes still hooded with sleep, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Mhm?”

You capture his hand, the familiar weight of his palm soothing. “Well, I was shopping for stationary yesterday, and I saw this journal and thought of you.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to say, is that it?

You continue, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I just thought that maybe you could use an outlet to, you know, express your feelings,” you shrug. “I know that you don’t necessarily want to see a therapist, and journaling can be a good way to process things.”

“I don’t know,” he says doubtfully, sitting up, abs flexing as he mussing his sandy blond hair.

You look up at him earnestly. “I think you should give it a try. It could be really good for you, just having the space to write down your feelings and thoughts.”

He nods and looks away, and you can tell he’s still disinclined to the idea. “I’ll think about it,” he says, kissing the top of your head and getting out of bed. “Crepes?” he asks, and you nod, lingering in bed for a few more moments before padding to the kitchen, where he’s slicing strawberries, to help him prepare breakfast.

About a week has passed since you mentioned journaling, and Rafe has just gotten off the phone with Ward, who is pressing him to be more assertive with clients, to be a better executive, to be an adequate son who is worthy of the Cameron name. Sighing, he runs his hand over his face and lifts his thumb to the corner of his mouth, biting down on the already ragged skin and wincing a little. An all-too-familiar pit of self doubt is settling in his stomach and he breathe the way you taught him to, inhaling and exhaling slowly to soothe the ache in his chest.

He glances at the corner of his desk, where the plain navy notebook you bought for him sits, blank and impassive. It practically taunts him, lying there, its pages clean and unblemished, and he’s almost afraid to touch it for fear of sullying your gift with his thoughts and words, the things he would like to say.

Shaking his head as though to clear his thoughts, he mutters a low, “Fuck it,” grabbing the journal and opening it to the first page, where he sees a post-it note with your handwriting.

Rafe, my love, if you’ve opened this you should know that I am so proud of you for using this as your own private space to express yourself. I know it can be hard to get started, so here are some ideas in case you want to write about something.

He scans down your list of prompts and questions until one in particular catches his eye.

What is it like being your father’s son?

Rafe chews the end of his pen absentmindedly, musing over the question posed to him. What is it like being Ward Cameron’s heir, his only son, the eldest out of all of his siblings? There are many things he could say: it is hard work, it is high expectations atop of unsteady shoulders, it is an ache in his chest that doesn’t ever quite leave.

It is being five years old, Rafe waiting excitedly for his father to come home so that he can show him the new prelude he has learned to play on the piano. It is Ward brushing him aside, snapping that no, he does not want to listen, he does not have time for him, he’s a busy man and can’t Rafe understand that? It’s his mother’s face as she runs a thin hand over her face, looking so profoundly tired as she whispers to him that his father will be more patient next time, that he is overworked, that she is sorry, baby, and won’t he go wash up for dinner?

It is dropping his glass of water, shards glimmering on the kitchen’s tile floor. It is his mother’s pale face as she claps a hand over her mouth and turns to look at his father, trembling. It is his father’s thunderous shouts, it is Rafe’s hands pressed over his ears, it is salty tears, it is his wrists bruised with purple for days after.

It is six years old and his family has had an unusually good day at the beach, where Sarah is building sand castles in her pink cotton bonnet and his father is helping Rafe find seashells. It is his parents’ hushed conversations late at night about money and his father’s job, and suddenly Ward is not so angry anymore, he does not come home raising his voice and his fists. He smiles more and brings Rafe to work, where he meets his father’s secretary, and Rafe feels special, important, enough.

It’s seven years old, on the school stage under bright spotlights, his palms sweaty and heart racing as he squints into the audience to find his parents, his fingers trembling as he sets them down on the ivory piano keys. It is after he lets out a shaky breath and gives a bow, seeing his mother’s bright face as she cheers for him, her smile radiant as she applauds, the seat next to her empty. It’s after his recital, when she pulls him into a tight embrace, praising his performance, and five-year-old Sarah gives him a bouquet of yellow roses; it is when she says Ward couldn’t make it, that he was in an important business meeting, that he was sorry, that he would be there next time, with a sorrowful expression that said she knew he wouldn’t.

It’s nine, when his mother first gets sick and he catches his father in his study, face in his hands as his blonde secretary, Rose, massages the tension from the broadness of his shoulders. It is Ward’s face snapping up when he sees Rafe, his expression hardening, blue gaze turning cold as ice, his secretary’s eyes widening with guilt. It’s curling up with Sarah, ears pressed to Ward’s oaken study door to hear murmured conversations between his father and Rose, catching snatches of illicit parleys.

It’s visiting his mother in the hospital with white tulips and a card that reads Get well soon, recalling his father’s whispered tête-à-têtes with Rose from the night before. It is a guilty ache throbbing in his chest as she greets Ward with a cheery embrace, clutches a baby Wheezie to her body, her disposition hopeful despite her hollow cheeks and thinning curls.

It’s ten years old clutching his mother’s hand in the hospital, trying not to be frightened by the beeping heart monitor or snaking tubes of intravenous fluids taped to her frail wrists as she whispers into his ear. I love you more than the world itself. Be strong for your sisters, everything will be okay. It’s walking down the hospital hallway, his shoulders shaking and vision blurred with tears as his father roars at the nurses to do something, to bring her back, the clatter of hospital equipment being thrown filling his senses.

It is coming home to a silent house which feels larger and quieter than ever and curling up in his mother’s closet, the faint scent of her perfume almost imperceptible. It is a silent, lonely Mother’s day spent avoiding his father, the absence of his mother unbearably suffocating. It is as if his family is drifting apart at sea, their anchor lost in the briny depths.

It is his eleventh birthday, his first without his mother; there is no cake, no celebration, not even an acknowledgement from his father. It’s his bottom lip quavering as he tries to hold back tears at the kitchen table, his father hunched over the uneaten pasta that Rose has made. It’s Rafe being unable to stomach a bite of his dinner, blurting out, “I wish Mom were here.” It’s Ward slowly turning his gaze towards Rafe, his cold stare glacial as he slowly says, “Do not ever talk about your mother again.” It’s Rafe nodding, a pit of dread gnawing in his stomach as he takes a bite of Rose’s pasta, tasting nothing but bitter shame. There are no birthday wishes except for his own futile hope that his mother will come back and hold him, stroke his hair and tell him that she loves him more than the world itself.

It’s fourteen and Rafe has long since discovered that playing the piano will turn his father into a hostile man. He has given up speaking French and Portuguese in fear that his Ward will turn to him, his eyes flashing, with anger in his voice and brutality in his fists. It is coming home from school and calling out for his mother for just a split second, until the realization that she is gone hits him like a punch to his stomach, his heart sinking and tears burning his throat. It is taking a shaky breath, remembering that his father does not like it when he cries, and shoving his grief into some unknown corner deep within his heart.

It is fifteen and sitting numbly in his navy suit watching Ward and Rose recite vows, holding each others hands. Somewhere deep inside of him, Rafe despises his mother for leaving him behind and breaking his family, and he hates himself even more for these treacherous thoughts.

It is seventeen and days will pass before he thinks of his mother, and he realizes that he has forgotten the exact shade of brown of her eyes, that he cannot remember the sound of her laughter bouncing around the bright kitchen anymore, and he is overwhelmed with guilt and fear. Sometimes he sits at the piano bench, his fingers itching to pour out the music inside of him, and it is in these moments that he is faintly able to recall the feeling of her hair brushing his shoulders as she sat next to him, the lilt in her voice when she called his name.

It is now and he is slowly unlearning what his father has taught him; he is able to differentiate between fear and respect, is able to sit with his feelings. When Rafe is with you, he is able to remember what love feels like. It is your gentle smile in the morning and quiet reassurances at night. It is feeling adequate, enough, sufficient. It is conquering his fear of facing his emotions, it is being able to cry properly for the first time in your arms as you stroke his hair. It is sobbing so hard that he cannot breathe, the ache in his chest dissipating as he sheds his sorrows, knowing that you will sit with him as long as he needs. It is learning to love himself as much as you love him, more than the moon and the stars, more than the world itself.

#rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #obx #jjasewrites