#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!! #my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her) #hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet. #i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!! #i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art. #i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

[moonlinos]

Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)

♡ Word count: 15.7k

♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.

♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷

← part I

Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.

Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.

The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.

Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.

You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.

“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.

Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.

“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.

Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.

He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”

“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.

Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.

Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”

“And are you going to the club tonight?”

“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”

That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.

Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.

Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.

He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.

Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.

Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.

But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.

It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.

A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.

You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”

And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.

Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”

“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”

You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.

“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”

He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”

You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.

“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”

By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.

“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.

“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.

You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.

But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.

Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.

He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:

“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”

And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them). 

His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.

“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”

By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.

Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.

At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.

So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.

That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.

His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.

Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.

They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.

They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.

He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.

He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.

After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.

Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.

That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.

After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.

He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.

He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.

He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.

“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?

He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.

“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”

And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.

Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.

“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”

The man snickers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.

You use it with him almost every night.

Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”

And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.

His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.

Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.

Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.

The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.

When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.

He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.

For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.

Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.

After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.

Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.

“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”

Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”

You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.

Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.

“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”

“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”

You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.

So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.

“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”

Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.

You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.

“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.

You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”

And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.

“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.

You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.

“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”

You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.

“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”

You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.

With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips. 

Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.

“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”

He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.

“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.

Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.

Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.

You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.

Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.

“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”

He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.

“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly. 

Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.

He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.

But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.

His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.

“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.

With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.

He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.

“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.

You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.

He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.

You still think you’re in control.

Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.

His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.

“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.

He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.

Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.

With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.

“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”

His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.

Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.

“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”

But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.

Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.

He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.

“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.

“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”

Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.

He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.

“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.

And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”

You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.

Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.

But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.

Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.

You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.

But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.

What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.

He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.

“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.

“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.

Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”

“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”

“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”

And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.

At least by Hyunjin.

You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.

You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.

Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.

And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.

But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.

After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.

“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.

That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.

You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:

The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.

You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.

Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.

They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.

On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace. 

Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.

Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.

Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.

You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.

You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.

You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.

The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.

The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.

As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.

Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.

Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.

You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.

“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.

The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.

You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.

The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’

Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.

Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.

You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.

Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.

His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.

“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.

He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.

Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.

Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.

At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.

As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.

Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.

Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.

You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.

You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.

“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.

But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.

“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”

To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.

“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”

Of course.

You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.

“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”

As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.

“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.

“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.

You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.

Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.

The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.

You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.

“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.

Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.

Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.

But you don’t want to do that.

Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.

So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.

His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.

It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.

It’s not Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.

Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.

Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.

During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.

He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.

She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.

Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.

He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.

When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.

Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.

It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.

Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.

Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.

He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.

That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.

It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.

You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.

You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.

Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.

But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.

You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.

After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.

But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.

Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.

You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.

“I’m sorry,” you simply say.

Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”

“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.

“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”

You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.

“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.

Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”

The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”

“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”

You open your lips, but no words come out.

You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.

Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.

The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.

“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.

As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.

“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”

He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”

You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.

“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.

“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.

You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.

“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”

Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.

Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.

Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.

It sends your entire body ablaze.

He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.

“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”

But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”

In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.

You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.

Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.

This time was different.

You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.

As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.

It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.

Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.

He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.

So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.

Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.

During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.

That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.

Another brick down.

You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.

Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.

Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.

He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.

“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”

He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.

Another brick down.

In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.

You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.

Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.

At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.

You found you loved both sides of him equally.

Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.

But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.

Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.

You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.

As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.

You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.

“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”

He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.

“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”

“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”

As much as you were desperate for it.

He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”

“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”

It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.

Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.

His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.

Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.

“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”

“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”

“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.

He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.

His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.

Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.

“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.

You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.

Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.

There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.

But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.

He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.

The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.

“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”

He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.

“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.

“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”

He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.

“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”

You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”

Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.

He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.

“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.

Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.

Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.

That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.

It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.

Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.

Because you knew him.

And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @wormieieie, @soonie1010, @dessianna1, @minimin1993, @idontlikecoffeeortea, @ashleighland, @oddracha, @sushiinmidnight, @lailac13, @badmaeda, @hynjinniesworld, @iheartjazz444, @cypher-girlx, @isagerada, @leviathanlee26, @sailor--sun, @binniesbabygirl

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

[wakandas-vibranium]

Wednesday Nights || Part One

Pairing: Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smutty smut, phone sex, dirty talk, teasing, swearing, sex work

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: As a single parent of an active kid Joel’s funds were tight, so he needed to find a quick way to make more income and surprisingly, you could make good money being a phone sex operator.

A/N: I kept daydreaming about Joel being a PSO. When I went to search for related fics I couldn’t find any so I wrote one :) Please like, comment and reblog!

part two

part three

part four

part five

Your nerves deteriorated with each passing minute. It was almost ten o'clock. On most days, the time didn't matter, but today was Wednesday. Wednesday nights were highly essential for you. 

For the past five months, you've been making late-night phone calls to talk to a specific phone sex operator named Jay. You had a sneaking suspicion that "Jay" wasn't actually his name, but you didn’t let that bother you. You understood that the operators were obligated to follow certain procedures for their own safety. 

Except for the few small truths he told you, Jay's personal life was a vast mystery to you. All you gathered about him from your extensive conversations was that he was a man in his early thirties from the southern parts of the United States who enjoyed a good cup of coffee before starting his day. He never specified where in the south he grew up, but the Texan drawl sounded too genuine to be artificial.

On Wednesdays, Jay only worked until 11 o'clock, so the two of you came to the conclusion fairly early on that you should dial in a little after 10 in order to ensure that you were his final call of the day.

You managed to calm your nerves by doing a little dance. You twirled in circles until you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror that was intentionally placed in front of your bed. You stopped dancing and stood there, appreciating your half-naked figure in the mirror as you waited for the clock to strike 10:03. 

You weren't sure why you always ended up so nervous around this time of the week. You'd been doing this for a while now, but it was just something about Jay that turned you into the shyest little thing.

You looked downright delicious in your baby blue lingerie. You brought it this afternoon along with a new toy. It wasn't like Jay could see it, but your imagination ran wild. Your breasts sat flawlessly in the laced blue bra. You looked like a fucking snack. 

If only you could meet Jay in person, you thought, sighing in disappointment. You eyed the clock and shook the negative thoughts from your head before you ended up in a funk. It was time to dial in. 

You were already drained from the week's stressors, and there were still two more days to go. You were in your last year of graduate school and utterly stumped on your thesis. You were sick of doing research, reading, typing, crying, and everything else that came with being a grad student. At this point, all you wanted to do was talk to Jay for as long as you possibly could and get off. 

You called in, waiting for the main operator to ask you who you wanted to be transferred to. She answered in her usual upbeat voice. You answered her question and before you knew it the line was being transferred to Jay. You held your breath on every ring, as you always did, until Jay picked up. Unexpectedly, a memory of your very first call came flooding back.

9:58pm five months ago

Valentine’s Day

Ring. Ring. Click. 

“Decompress until there’s a mess,” a cheerful woman said as she answered your call and you fought back a cackle at that ridiculous ass slogan. “Who would you like to speak to tonight?”

“Umm…this is my first time calling, so I’m not really sure.” you admitted.

“That’s alright, sugar,” the woman assured softly. “Let’s start with the simple stuff. Do you have a preference for gender or ethnicity?” 

“Umm, well, ethnicity doesn’t matter, but I’d like to speak with a man.”

“Okay. We’re getting somewhere. What kind of man?” 

“Someone with an accent.” 

“What kind of accent? We have ‘em all here, sugar.” 

The constant use of the pet name actually eased your nerves. Your shyness was depleting while your confidence was rising. 

“A southern accent?”

You had a slight accent kink since you could remember. You appreciated all accents, but there was something extra sweet about southern men and the way they could hold a conversation. Maybe it was because you grew up in the south too. 

“Louisiana?” The operator asked as she typed away at her computer. By the sound of her taps, her nails must have been quite long. You bet they looked as pretty as she sounded. 

“More of a Texan accent please.” You insisted, nibbling your bottom lip as you waited for her to find someone. 

“That’ll be Jay then.” 

“It looks like he’s finishing up another call,” she informed. “Do you mind waiting on hold for a few minutes before I transfer you?” 

“No, I don’t mind. Thank you.” 

“Okay. Placing you on hold now.”

You were on hold for maybe forty five seconds. The wait music stopped abruptly and the line rang four times before a sultry voice spoke. “Hello, darlin’.” 

And fuuuuuuuck. 

The sultry twang of his voice sounded like toe curling, earth shattering, raw sex.

You went to say hello, but for some reason you forgot how your mouth worked. You palmed your forehead, wincing.

How embarrassing. 

“Hello?” he said, tone shifting slightly. 

“Hi.” you finally whispered, palms somewhat shaking. You never did anything like this. Thank god he couldn’t see how much of a nervous wreck you were. You weren’t a virgin, but you didn’t have that many sexual experiences. There was plenty left for you to learn. 

“Sorry,” you continued, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This is my first time doing something like this and I’m a little nervous.” you admitted, shifting in the computer chair, spreading your legs. 

“I understand. We can take it slow, okay?” 

“Okay.” you nodded as if he could fucking see you. 

“My name is Jay. What’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” you blurted, without thinking. Were you supposed to give him a fake name?

He chuckled softly, “That your real name, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you sighed deeply. “It is actually.”

“Well, Y/N is such a pretty name.” He complimented. 

“Thank you.” you smiled, shoulders relaxing as you began to twirl in your chair. 

“How old are you?” Jay asked. 

“I’ll be 28 next month,” you revealed, slipping into a more seductive voice now that your nerves were further away, “How old are you?” 

“I’ll be 31 later in September.” 

“Ah, so you’re a Libra man?” you teased. You weren’t super into astrology, but you knew the basics and looked at compatibility charts every now and then. 

“Am I now?” he laughed.

“You are and I’m an Aries. Apparently we’re very compatible.” 

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“You believe that?” He retorted.

“Sort of.” you mumbled, half shrugging. 

“I think we’ll find out in a lil’ bit.” Jay purred. You pulled the phone away from your ear as you shivered in anticipation. You were already wet for him. 

Goddamn. He already had you hooked

“Evenin’ darlin’,” Jay answered warmly on the third ring. 

“Hi,” you responded, beaming up at yourself in the mirror. Jeez all it took was a simple greeting from Jay to have you smiling from ear to ear. “How has your day been?” 

“It’s been alright. Even better now though.” He said, already flirting. 

“I’m wearin’ the blue lace lingerie we looked at last week.” You blurted, getting straight to the point. You usually talked about regular things, but you were pent up and needed him to do what he was perfect at and make you a soaking wet mess. 

“Ohh,” he exhaled sharply, “I wish I could watch you model it for me, Y/N.” He was always so good and going with the flow. He always made sure to give you what you needed. After all, that was what you were paying him for. It was left unspoken that you both forgot that this was a transaction a few months ago. 

“I bought a toy, too.” 

“What kind?” He perked up, even more interested.

“You got your laptop open?”

“Mmhmm.” he replied.

“Go to www.lovegasm.com.”

You listened to the pad of his fingers fall against the laptop keys as he followed your instructions. You ignored the fact that you were lowkey jealous of the keyboard that got to feel how his fingers felt against them. 

“Okay. I’m there.” 

“Click on the drop-down in the left hand corner.” 

“Okay.”

“Then click on ‘for women’ then select ‘dildos’.” you instructed, you slid off your shawl, moving over to the edge of the bed to give him and the page a few extra seconds to load before asking, “You there?”

“Yep. Which one am I looking for?”

“Right column. Sixth one down.” 

“I see,” he said, humming in excitement. 

“Look familiar?” You asked, giggling softly as you laid back on your bed, spreading your thighs. 

“A bit.” he admitted, unable to hide the smile in his voice. You could hear it clear as day. It was another small thing you looked forward to. 

“I can’t wait to feel yo—it inside me, Jay.” you caught yourself, but it was too late. He’d already heard you and his cock twitched in response. 

“No, you were right the first time, baby.” he said, kind of muffled, grunting softly as he raised his arms, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt. 

“I’m a bit thicker towards the top so we’re gonna have to finger you open, so that I can slide in perfectly.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to take off my panties?” 

“No,” he said, inhaling sharply. “Pull them to the side and rub your clit for me.”

You obeyed, pulling your panties to the side and slowly rubbed your clit with your middle finger, sighing softly. 

“How wet are you?”

“Honestly,” you breathed deeply, running a finger down your slick slit. “I’ve been wet for you all day, Jay.” He groaned deeply at your admission, thick cock swelling in his pants. 

“You’re gonna cum twice for me tonight, Y/N. First on my fingers, then on my cock.” 

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp. He knew you loved when he talked to you that way. It helped you get off even more. 

“Got it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Repeat it.” he demanded, growling softly in your ear. You stopped breathing for a second. Completely turned on by the rough tone he was taking with you. 

God he knew what you liked so well. 

“I’m cummin’ twice tonight. On your fingers, then on your cock.” You repeated, voice deep with arousal. You whimpered softly, rubbing faster as you felt that coil deep in your belly loosen a smidge. You were getting closer to the edge. 

“Good girl.” he praised, making you sigh deeply and even more of a puddle. 

“Slide a finger inside you,” he instructed, “Slow pumps.” 

You obeyed, pushing in your middle finger, massaging your folds gradually. Although the motion was effective, it wasn’t sufficient. It didn't push you very far at all. You needed more. 

“Can I add another finger, baby?” You asked, moaning louder as you rubbed your clit in wide slow circles, getting wetter by the second.

“Go ahead,” said Jay, granting you permission.

You added another finger, pumping faster. Now you were getting somewhere.

“Jay,” you moaned softly, grinding down on your fingers as you sped up just a little. 

“I love the way you moan for me.” he praised, grunting softly as he popped the button open on his jeans and unzipped them. The faint sound of his zipper being pulled down made your nipples harden almost painfully. 

“Shit Jay, I wish these were your fingers.” you admitted, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, shyness long gone. You closed your eyes, picturing Jay’s fingers inside of you, while his free hand held pressure on your lower stomach. You listened to him pull his jeans down some. 

“I know baby,” he groaned, palming his hard cock through his boxers, “So do I.” 

“Keep rubbin’ your clit for me,” like the good and dutiful girl you were, you obeyed, rubbing your bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles. Your other fingers were busy pumping in and out of your tight hole. 

It was weird at this angle, but you added a third finger and curled them up. Your thighs trembled as you fingered and rubbed yourself harder. Jay could hear how soaked you were for him and pulled his cock out, thumbing the bead of precum before stroking it lazily. You were always so wet for him and he oh so badly craved to taste it. 

He inhaled sharply before letting a single command fall past his lips, “Cum.” 

“Fuuuuck!” you moaned loudly as you came, body jerking against the bed as you worked yourself slower. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jay purred lowly, talking you through a well anticipated orgasm. “Let it out for me.” You were gonna have to change your sheets, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You were sex crazed. 

One down. One more to go. 

Jay’s hand locked down painfully on his cock, stopping himself from almost cumming. “Now grab my cock and put it in your mouth.” Jay said, taking a steadying, deep breath. The sounds you made when you came always got to him. The sinful whimpers and desperate grunts you let out damn near made him go feral with lust. 

You palmed the silicone cock and brought it to your lips, licking up the veiny shaft before taking it into your mouth. 

“Suck it, baby. Let me hear it.” He cupped his dick loosely, starting back up with slow strokes. He had to be careful. 

You sucked the head while simultaneously pulling on the base, making the tip tug at your plump lips.

“Mmhmm,” he moaned, encouraging you to take him deeper. You tilted your head to get a better angle and took the fake cock as deep as you could, bobbing your head up and down, moaning loudly. When you choked, Jay growled. “Fuuuck, baby! You take me so well.” 

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” Jay said, panting sharply, “I can hear it. Go ahead and push me in. I know that I’ll fit easily.” 

“Goddamnit Jay,” you cursed, letting the dildo fall from your stretched lips with a loud pop, slapping your inner thigh hard enough to leave it aching in the morning.

“What?” He asked, snickering softly because he already knew the answer. 

“You just always know what to say.” you praised, gasping softly as you pushed the cock inside you, all the way to the hilt. He was right. It stretched you, but you were so wet it didn’t even pinch. 

You pushed the silicone cock inside you deep and fast. It felt so fucking good. You paused your moans so you could hear Jay. You wanted to match his strokes. Once he realized what you were doing he sped up. 

“Yeah, that’s it, babygirl,” he praised, groans growing louder, “Fuck yourself just like that. Don’t stop.” 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, pumping yourself even harder. 

“Did I tell you that you could cum?” The harshness of his voice made you open your eyes and slow your movements just a tad. 

“Jay p—please, baby,” you moaned louder, begging him to let you cum. He loved teasing you and you loved that he loved it. 

“Please what, darlin’?” said Jay, amusement heavy in his tone. He knew exactly what you wanted. Needed. He was gonna give it to you, but you had to ask first. You had to beg for it. 

“Cum with me this time,” you coaxed, whole body shuddering just from hearing the downright filthy noise Jay just made. 

“Okay, babygirl,” he groaned lowly, breaths quickening as he pumped his cock nice and fast. “Whatever you want.” 

“I want you to cum with me,” you begged, head thrashing wildly against the pillows as the tip of the dildo brushed up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “I want to hear your moans mix with mine when we cum.” 

You sobbed as you started back rubbing your clit. The tight circling of your finger combined with the rapid thrusts from the dildo gave you a window of 30 seconds before you were cumming your brains out.

“That’s it, baby,” Jay snarled, hips jerking wildly up into his fist as he stroked his cock even faster. “Be a good girl and cum with me.” 

You came with a loud cry as your climax tore through you, back arching all the way off the mattress in sheer pleasure. Jay followed right behind you, cursing and whimpering as white ropes of cum landed on his belly and chest. You both panted harshly, together over the line as you recovered slowly from your intense orgasms.

“I think that was our best one yet.” he laughed warmly as he pulled a few tissues from the square box on his workstation to clean himself up. 

“Hell yeah it was,” you agreed, cheering weakly. Your arms were sore as hell and your legs still shook, but you felt amazing. You were on cloud nine, fully satiated. 

“Have a good night, darlin’,” Jay cooed, sleepily. “And good luck with your thesis.”

“Thanks. Night Jay.” You giggled softly, disconnecting the call, rolling over onto your side before drifting off to sleep.

The next few days were a breeze. You were in an advantageous mood thanks to Jay, and so you added four more pages to your thesis. You only had six pages left. 

On Saturday morning you woke up earlier than usual and decided to get dressed and head to your favorite coffee shop. The cafe was only a couple blocks away from your apartment so you walked there. You loved early morning strolls. The gentle wind dancing across your soft skin as the sun began to peak always made you feel alive. 

You left the cafe after the barista handed you your Assam Black tea and breakfast sandwich, while typing a text to one of your lab partners. You took a few steps without looking and collided with someone, dropping both your sandwich and your phone. Luckily, the grip you had on your tea did not falter.  

You both apologized at the same time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I wasn’t even lookin' in front of me.”

“My apologies, darlin’.' ' the man said, bending down to pick up your squished sandwich and unscratched cell phone. 

That voice.

That voice you knew all too well. 

Especially on Wednesday nights.

A cold chill ran across your neck and down your back, “Jay?” you squeaked loudly, staring at him in disbelief as he stood back up with your items in his hands. He stretched out his hands to give them back to you only to stop short, eyes widening in utter shock when he realized what you had called him. 

The corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned briefly. It didn’t quite match his eyes at all. “Y/N, I take it?” 

“Yes,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. “Hi, Jay.”

“Hi.” he said, eyes blinking slowly as he stood there flabbergasted, still holding your belongings in his hands. 

“Nice to meet you.” you continued, extending your hand out for him to shake. 

He shifted your sandwich and phone to his left hand, grabbed your hand with his now-free hand, and shook it twice. “Nice to meet you, too Y/N.” he said, shooting you a toothy grin. God, his smile was to die for. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he checked you out, admiring the view. During your phone calls, he, too, fantasized about what you looked like. He was not disappointed.  

His palm enveloped yours. Damn his hands were large, you thought, gawking at him unapologetically. They were warm and had a few callouses. He must have used his hands a great deal for his other job. He never mentioned what he did for work. 

You hoped that bumping into him wouldn't ruin your Wednesday night dalliances. Maybe he'd be okay with talking somewhere less public. It was quite rowdy both inside and outside of the coffee shop.

“My apartment is two blocks away if you want to go somewhere more private so we can talk.” you babbled, no longer able to look at him in his intense, pecan brown eyes for too long due to your shyness coming at it at an all time high. Fuck he was intimidating. The confidence he exuded had your mouth watering. 

Christ, he was sex on a stick. The man only had on a dark gray shirt, blue jeans that hugged him in all the right places and working boots. A warm flush crept across your face and neck. Get it together, girl, you thought to yourself. He barely said two full sentences to you and you were already hot and bothered. To be fair, he’d been the only one to make you cum every week for the past five and a half months. 

He raised a thick eyebrow at your suggestion — you dropped his hand, gesturing wildly once you realized how your offer must have sounded. “I mean—fuck! I promise I’m not a weirdo, Jay.” 

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled, shaking his head fondly at you, “Joel,” he said. “My name is Joel.”

#FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKK #I need a cold shower #please like comment and share 🫶🏾 #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller x black!reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #my fics #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou joel

[inklore]

suddenly thinking sooooo hard about shower sex with hangman kajdkshfks

veracious.

series masterlist

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x (f)reader

word count: 977

warnings: eighteen+ content, shower sex, dirty talk, porn with feelings i guess, established enemies with benefits, pilot reader, secret relationship, mentions of phoenix and bob.

etc: wrote this in mind with it being a part of this piece but you don’t have to read it to read this. i might write a bigger piece with these two since that tgm brain rot is still going strong, depending on if anyone would want it or not lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

“If you don’t be quiet they’re going to hear you.” His tone is laced in arrogance. Even with his hand over your mouth muffling your moans—even if his large palm wasn’t over your mouth—you both knew it wouldn't be any dent on his ego if anyone was to hear you.

It would be another win for him to get off on. Another way for him to make it more than obvious, without words, just how great Jake Seresin is.

You really need to stop boosting his ego. It’s sickening to watch him smirk after, or during, your little escapades; like he is now. Hangman’s lips at your ear, one hand over your mouth, the other gripping your hip, chest pressed into your back as he fucks you against the tiled wall.

The tiled walls—shower room—you share with your fellow aviators.

Anyone could walk in right now and catch a glimpse of the two of you fucking behind the flimsy curtain. No doubt everyone in a mile radius has heard your moans already.

“You didn’t..” Phoenix’s voice is laced in just as much disgust as her expression is.

“Didn’t what?”

“Fuck Seresin.” Her face scrunches into a grimace. Looks like she might actually be sick.

“I’d rather die!”

“Oh, yeah? Is that why he keeps eye fucking you from across the room,” she states, argues. “And why Bob said he saw the two of you leaving the deck like your asses were on fire, Seresin’s hands on said ass.”

Fuck, Bob. You’re searching the bar to send him a threatening scowl. That little shit. And fuck Hangman for not being able to keep his hands to himself—in most cases you could have chalked it up to the endless banter and arguments the two of you always found yourselves in. Keeping that facade of pure hatred going for the masses.

“Sweets,” she says your call sign like it’s a warning. Look turning from grossed out to serious, “getting involved with him is the last thing you need on your conscience.”

“We’re not involved!” You huff, “like I said, I’d rather die.”

After all of you had come back from the bar, you’d waited until the halls were pilot free to set on an angry march to Hangman’s room. Only to have Coyote answering his door with a “he’s in the showers” paired with a smirk you wanted to smack off of his face.

And that’s where you found him, naked and soaping his chest as you yanked back the curtain.

“We need to stop this,” hands crossed over your chest, eyes trying to stay focused on his face and not…further…down.

“Well, good evening to you too, Sweets.” Now was not the time for his aggravating smirk because you really might punch him for it.

“Bob saw us!”

“Did he?” He’s completely unphased, turning his back to the faucet to rinse it.

“Yes! And I’d rather no one else know-”

“Think you and I both know it’s too late for that.”

You scowl at him, even though you knew he was right. Fuck him for being right, fuck Bob, and fuck you for falling for those pretentious pretty boy charms in the first place.

“Mine as well keep giving them something to talk about.” His smirk grew, showing off those perfect white teeth of his, before he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into the shower with him, pressing your lips together in a rough kiss.

Which is how you got here.

The hard snap of his hips making your ass ripple, your thighs pressed together in a way that makes it feel like Hangman’s cock is tearing you in two.

“Would you like that, baby?” You want to gag at the pet name, want to elbow him in the ribs. Want to do a lot of things but he’s rolling his hips in that way that has the tip of his cock touching that spot inside of you that makes stars blur your vision. “Everyone already knows you’re mine. Even you know it.” His teeth bite at your ear, his heavy pants filling your eardrums when he’s not. So all you can hear is him—the sounds of his skin slapping yours, his grunts, pants, your wetness drowning out the run of the water hitting the tile—all you can feel is him.

A trend of the way Hangman fucks, lives. Center of attention, in the sky, on land, in the bedroom. Wants everyone to know he’s the one they're admiring or pissed off at.

In your case: the one fucking you. The one who drives you insane but you can’t get enough off.

And you’d hate him for it, should hate him for it. Should have let the embarrassment of Phoenix finding out ward you off of him for the rest of your life. If this was a year ago you know you’d still despise him and be giving him shit right now. But so much time has passed. A tension come and gone and only resolved between the two of you by fucking.

His thrusts pick up speed, his grunts echoing deeper in his chest. The hand on your hip falls between your legs to rub the pad of his index finger against your clit, “you’re my girl, right?”

The strangled moan you let out as you nod frantically is something you’ll deny later. Know your cheeks will burn when he passes you in the rec room, putting on your big show of hating him in front of everyone; “thought you were my girl” he’ll whisper against your ear and it’ll simultaneously make you scowl and flutter between your legs.

Because yeah, maybe you were his girl and maybe you didn’t care who knew—you cared a whole lot actually—but just as long as he kept fucking you like this, it lightened the blow of everyone knowing.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman smut #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin smut #jake seresin one shot #hangman x y/n #jake seresin fic #hangman #jake seresin x f!reader #hangman x f!reader #jake seresin x you #top gun #thots ! #green light series

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

This is my first time ever requesting SMTH OML IM SWEATIN 😟 BUT I WANTED TO HAVE MY FIRST REQUEST BE TOWARDS YOU CAUSE UR WRITING IS SO GOOD AND BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN LIKE THE EMOTION UR ABLE TO CONVEY JUST THROUGH WORDS IS CRAZY N ADDICTIVELY DELICIOUS NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES IT HURTS MY SOUL ANYWAY MOVING ON (i love ur writing sm its so artistic)

this is so akward but like a reader who grew up around family members who'd get RLLY drunk n made her home super uncomfortable for her so like it's like a sensitive thing when she's around intoxicated people yk like n one day bill shows up late from a party pretty messed up n is kinda acting like an asshole lowkey aggressive LIKE ANGSTY YK UR AMAZING AT THAT n then the next morning bill wakes up hung over without reader in bed next to him confused n finally remembers n how royally fucked he is n hes like super apologetic

THATS ALL I GOT BUT UM IF U DONT FEEL COMFY WRITING IT I TOTALLY GET IT LIKE IGNORE THIS DELETE THIS DW, BUT IF YOU DO THANK YOU IN ADVANCE IYLSM

(this Lowkey sucks ass and I'm so sorry for making you wait this long for this piece of shit writing I wrote, jut I still hope you enjoy it and I'm so glad you like my works and my writing!)

Drunk & Sober Mistakes

Bill woke up with a pounding in his head, groaning as he flipped over onto his stomach. He reached for the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of water.

He drank from it like he was dehydrated for ten years, feeling like he was as he savored the feeling of it pouring down his throat.

"(Name)...?" Bill called out, his voice raspy and scratchy as he woke up, trying to see you.

Bill looked up confused when he got no response, looking around from the bed as best he could.

Bill groaned as he got up, almost stumbling as he made it to his feet and to the bathroom, desperately trying to get the taste out his mouth.

He brushed his teeth, almost gagging at the taste of the toothpaste with throw up in his mouth.

Bill finally has time to mull over everything, everything in small blurs except that he knew that he got drunk.

He came home, and for some reason felt in a bad mood, and unfortunately you were there as well, so you got some backlash.

Bill felt like hitting himself, especially as it came back in an almost tidal wave that he remembered everything.

Your family has problems with drinking, getting so drunk to the point of making you uncomfortable.

Bill promised to never do that to you, but now?

Bill felt the throw up coming back up as he realized he had broken that promise, and your trust.

Something Bill vowed to never do to you

As he did so, he heard the front door open and shut as soon as he heard it. Bill sighed, knowing it was you just from the sound of your footsteps.

Knowing he has to face you, and full of shame, he walks out of the bathroom to see you collecting stuff off the floor he had either knocked down, or dropped.

Watching you do so as he leaned against the doorframe only made him even more guilty.

You knew he was there from the burning and the feeling all over your body, but you chose to ignore him, feeling as he deserves it for what he has done last night.

At your silence and watching you trying to fix the bed, Bill sighed.

"I'm sorry, babe." Bill finally spoke up, looking as you stopped your movement, listening as he stepped closer, staying a little ways away as he didn't want to make you even more uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for getting drunk. I…I didn't think I would get that bad." Bill sighed once more, walking closer to you as he heard you sigh as well, about to shrug him off.

"It's fine-"

"No, it's not. I fucked up. I'm sorry." Bill apologized once more, looking as you shook your head as he stood right behind you. Bill wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning down to put his chin on your shoulders.

"I'm sorry…" Bill repeated, kissing your cheek in light kisses as he heard you sigh, moving the hands to softly sit on his, so soft and quiet it was like you wouldn't notice your hands unless you spoke up about them.

"Just- just don't do it again…" you mumbled, looking over your shoulder slightly to see his face close to yours, a frown almost permanent on his.

"I promise you, I won't ever do it again." Bill reassured, pecking your lips softly once as he rubbed his thumb over your waist.

"...You were being a real asshole." You said, actually meaning it and thinking he deserves to hear it. Bill sighed, nodding softly as he knew he was.

Bill thought about something for a moment, to at least try and make it a little more better before he finally found it.

"...wanna smack me?" Bill offered quickly, getting a pause from you as you finally turned around to look at him.

"What?" You couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion, Bill smiling as he finally got a smile out of you.

"To make it better!" Bill laughed along, smiling as he put his hands on your hips.

"No!" You shook your head, objecting like he was crazy but he was smiling at the sound of your laughter.

"Come on, just one smack." Bill tried once more, tickling your sides softly as you playfully scoffed and moved his hands.

"Is this a new kink you're trying out?" You joked, Bill falling silent as he gave you a funny look.

You both gave each other little smirks, amused before you both bursted out laughing.

Bill chuckled, grabbing your arm and bringing you into a hug as you kept on giggling.

He rubbed your back, your arms and kissed your head.

"I'm sorry, again."

"It's fine…just promise to not do it again?" You mumbled out, smiling up at him from his chest as he chuckled, immediately nodding.

"I promise I won't ever do it again. Sticking to soda from now on, huh?" Bill asked, his hands on your waist now with yours around his.

"You most definitely are." You smiled back, scrunching up your nose as he leaned down and almost touched his nose with yours, still smiling.

"Well, got a soda cop here now, huh?"

"Yup, ass."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader

[maytey]

𝐂𝚨𝚻𝐂𝐇𝚰𝚴𝐆 𝚻𝐇𝚬𝐌 𝐌𝚨𝐒𝚻𝐔𝐑𝚩𝚨𝚻𝚰𝚴𝐆

ft. kazutora, rindou, draken, yuzuha, mikey

cw: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, dom!reader (kazutora & mikey), dildo riding (kazutora), orgasm denial, handjob, creampie, praise, blowjob, deepthroat, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, fleshlight, praise

a/n: got inspiration for mikey's when a customer returned a fleshlight they bought from amazon :D anyway enjoy, i wanted to reverse the roles of my other post (i wrote these all in the dead of night, exhuasted from work so i apologize if they're a bit lacking)

❁ kazutora

he knew you told him not to touch himself, to hold off until you got home, and he tried, he really did. but the need grew unbearable as the minutes ticked by. he just wanted you to fuck him. if only you’d been home he could have avoided this—he could have been good for you.

kneeling on the bed, he lined up the dildo with his prepped hole, cock hard and already leaking precum. he couldn't feel guilty as he relished in the pleasure coursing through him as he sank down. if you found out, he'd take the consequence--whatever it may be.

he bounced at a steady rhythm, little whines falling past his lips. he wished you were beneath him, guiding his movements. as if summoned, you walked through the bedroom door. shame coursed through him at the look you leveled on him. he thought he could handle it, but the disappointment on your face was more than he could bear.

he started to raise himself off the dildo, making it only a couple inches before you stopped him with a hand on his chest. when you'd gotten so close, he didn't know. your fingers trailed down the length of his body, stopping to circle the head of his cock. that act made him take in a shaky breath, hips involuntarily bucking into your touch.

"keep going, tora," you said, wrapping your hand around him and giving a single stroke. "i'll even help you."

he whimpered at your words. but as you started your slow strokes, he began to move again, building up to his orgasm once more. it felt good, the combination of the dildo in his ass and fucking himself in your hand. he could feel his orgasm swiftly approaching. his thighs tensing and hands gripping the sheets.

then the hand wrapped around his cock stopped, going slack. he whimpered, attempting to fuck your fist to no avail. "please," he cried, "i'm so close."

oh how you loved to hear his desperation. it sent a heat straight through you. you crooned, "do you think i should let you cum?"

he nodded fervently, long strands of hair flicking about his face. his hips bucked again. one last push was all he needed. one last stroke and he'd be cumming in your hand. you brought your knuckles to his cheek and smoothed them over his soft skin, a soft smile on your lips.

"i'll let you cum when you deserve it."

❁ rindou

he was frustrated in more ways than one. the work piling on his desk was one thing, but then you had to go and send him that taunting picture. he stared at that picture now, hand stroking his cock, intent on relieving a little pent up stress.

yet that picture wasn't enough, no matter how good you looked it just wasn't enough. no, he needed the real thing. he tried to imagine it was your hand, that you were there on your knees between his legs, but despite how much he stroked himself and thought of you he couldn't get off. it just wasn't the same. he wanted you right now.

a knock sounded on the door before it opened, and like a prayer answered you slipped through. you stilled when you saw the state he was in. even though the sight had your panties dampening, you debated on if you should leave and come back at a better time, when he grinned at you. "just the woman i was thinking about."

a blush rose to your cheeks. he beckoned you over with a single finger. the moment you were within reach, he was tugging you into his lap and bunching your skirt up to your hips. his fingers slid over your clothed cunt. "already wet, sweetheart?" he teased as he circled the wet spot.

he slid your panties to the side, guiding you by your hip to line up his cock with your pussy. he swore as you sank down on him. the grip he had on your hips tightened as you began your slow movements. even after all the years you’ve been together, he hasn’t gotten over the feeling of your pussy clenching tight around him.

he released his grip on one of your hips to tug your top down to expose your breasts. rindou dipped his head down, placing an open mouthed kiss to your collarbone before going further. his tongue licked slowly over your nipple, lips then wrapping around the sensitive bud. you gasped as he sucked on it, releasing you with a loud, wet sound.

how he loved the noises you made. his cock twitched inside of you. he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “make me cum, doll. i know you can do it.”

spurred on by his gentle praise, you gave him everything you could. bouncing on his cock and leaning forward just a tad so he could hear the little moans escaping you. it was just the last bit he needed. thick ropes of cum coated your walls. a groan deep in his throat reverberating against your skin as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

he lifted his head, eyes boring into yours as his fingers trailed down the length of your body. “can’t let my good girl go without making her cum first.”

❁ draken

there was rarely a time you weren’t on draken’s mind. as he sat in the worn out chair in the office in the back of the shop, memories of the night before flashed through his head. his pants were straining against him. he normally didn't like doing this sort of thing at the shop, but what was the harm in doing it this once. so long as he made it quick.

unzipping his pants, he freed his cock. closing his eyes, he drew up an image of you, memories from the previous night that lingered and wouldn't leave him. that sight of your perfect body was almost enough to do him in. low grunts escaped him despite his best efforts.

he was close already, when someone walked into the office. he hurried to tuck himself back into his pants, thinking it was inui coming to get something. but when he looked to the door, it was you standing there with lunch in hand. he didn't know if this was a better or worse scenario.

his mouth opened to say something as you dropped the food on the desk, but the words vanished when you knelt between his legs. you freed him the restraint of his pants once again. though embarrassment ate at him, he didn't complain as your wrapped your lips around him, looking up him through your lashes.

he loved when you looked at him like that, with your mouth drooling around his cock. he brushed your hair away from your face with gentle fingers. he watched as you tried and failed to take all of him in your mouth, left to use your hand for what wouldn’t fit. you were always so determined even knowing you’d never be able to do it.

you fell into a rhythm. twisting your hand as you stroked him, licking the vein running the length of his cock, swirling your tongue over his head. every little thing you did drove him closer to the edge. his hand found its way to the back of your head. he pushed you to take him deeper, as far as you could. tears pricked your eyes as he hit the back of your throat, fighting the urge to gag.

he swore. “just a little more, baby. i’m almost there.”

the hand on the back of your head guiding your bobbing. he couldn't help himself. the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him was a feeling he'd never get tired of. you made a noise--a moan, a gag, he couldn't quite tell from the blood rushing in his ears. the reverberations of that noise went straight through, it completely undid him. he came in your mouth, pulling out to watch swallow it all. he ran his thumb over your lip, wiping away the drop that managed to seep out.

before you could register, he picked you up and set you on the desk in one fluid motion. getting down on his knees between your legs, he said, “i’d feel bad if i didn’t repay the favor.”

❁ yuzuha

it was one of those days you had to stay at work late, which wasn’t a big deal most of the time, but she saw what put on under your clothes that morning. every time she blinked she caught a glimpse of it. the moment she stepped into the apartment she b-lined for the bedroom, already beginning to remove her clothes.

situating herself on the bed, she leaned over, reached into the top drawer of her nightstand, and pulled out the vibrator she had for moments like this. she settled against the pillows and pressed the toy to her clit. she liked to start low and build herself up.

she lost herself in the growing pleasure with each increase of speed. nothing else seemed to exist in that moment, only herself and the image of you from that morning. she felt it approaching, bubbling up before spilling over.

her head was tossed against the pillows, back arching and moaning as she rode out her first orgasm, when you walked into the bedroom. you stood there awkwardly, hand still on the door handle. yuzuha smiled when she saw you and beckoned you inside. the door clicked softly shut behind you. as you got closer to her, you reached out as if to touch her. she stopped you with a simple wag of her finger. pointing to the opposite side of the bed, she said, "i wanna watch you."

you hesitated for a moment. you weren't used to being watched like that, she always wanted to be touching you, in control of your pleasure. this was foreign territory for you. and yet, it stirred something inside you. you shed your clothes, making a show of it for her. when you went to remove the lingerie you put on that morning, she stopped you.

"keep it on," she said. “i’ve been thinking about it all day.”

heat rose to your cheeks. but you obliged her nonetheless. you climbed onto the bed, situating yourself on the opposite end. legs spread, you circled your fingers around your clit through the crotchless panties, watching her movements. her eyes devoured you.

she followed the way your slicked fingers dipped into your pussy, slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy. your free hand coming up to paw at your breast. she’d forgotten all about the vibrator pressed to her own clit as you tossed your head back, arching against your fingers.

she couldn't hold herself back any longer. she tossed the vibrator aside and dove between your legs. replacing your fingers with her tongue and licked up through your folds. two fingers slipped into your cunt, pumping at a faster pace than what you had done.

she pulled her mouth away only long enough to say, “cum for me. i wanna feel you cum.”

it wasn’t long after she went back to sucking and licking at your clit that you were cumming with a moan. drenching her fingers more and more with each pump, thighs twitching around her head.

so much for trying something new, but she couldn’t be upset. she just wanted to have you right then and there. another time. another time you’d experiment. tonight, she wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t stand.

❁ mikey

his cock had been aching all day, he’d been counting down the minutes until he was able to go home and fuck you. but when he walked into the house, he found it empty. without many other options, he went and dug out his fleshlight from where he hid it and settled himself in the living room. he wasn't thinking clearly, his focus solely on relieving the ache he'd felt all day.

unwilling to waste any more time, he slid the toy over his awaiting cock. he swore under his breath. he rolled his hips slowly, restraining himself. he wanted nothing more than to cum, but he wanted to mimic the way you rode him, always so teasing and cruel.

he did that for as long as he could. but his patience broke. his breathing grew heavy and his core tightened as the speed of his thrusts increased, chasing the high he'd been craving all day. so caught up in his own lust, he didn't notice you stepping into the living room, bag already sliding down your shoulder and ready to collapse onto the couch out of sheer exhaustion when you saw it. the shocking sight of mikey thrusting his cock in a fleshlight, your name falling from his lips. it was as if all your exhaustion drained from you entirely as you walked over to him.

the moment he saw you, he slid out of the toy, dropping it beside him on the couch and full attention on you. his eyes were pleading as he said, "i need you now, i've been waiting all day."

he made to grab your wrist. you moved out of his reach and said, "but you're having so much fun with your toy, i don't want to interrupt."

"it's not the same as you. it doesn't feel as good." he tried to reach for you again, but you took a step back.

"if you wanted to fuck me that badly, you would have waited a little longer." you sat down on the coffee table, crossing one knee over the other. the look you leveled on had his cock throbbing where it lay against his stomach. "why don't you finish your fill-in pussy and then i'll consider letting you fuck me."

the noise he made was pathetic. but you left no room for argument and he didn't want to hurt his case anymore. he picked up the toy from beside him and started up again. he put on quite the show for you. moans of your name slipped in between his heavy pants. your foot slid against his calf, a gentle coax. it wasn't long after that he was cumming in the pussy he wished was yours.

his heavy-lidded eyes looked to you as you crawled next to him, a hand on his chest. "good boy," you said, taking his chin in your hand. "do you still want the real thing?"

tag list: @kazuwhora @aces-high @withlovetengen @amaejiki @renxnana @ta-kuyas @curiouslilbeast @serenareiss @nalyana @slylittlebutterfly

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[memories-beneath-the-skin]

Dad was cheap

Like not funny ha ha cheap.. Like he was, but also wtf infuriating cheap

He would tithe to the church all he felt he should, I mean litterally every few months, they would post in a special bulletin who gave and how much total. Dick measuring to guilt others if I ever saw it. That's the only time I'd hope he had been cheap but no...

He was an LPN, almost RN but he decided not, back in the 70s was a different outlook of those peeps and roles in industry.

I saw his pay stubs after he died when cleaning out his shed.... Naturally that's where they go. I couldn't believe how little he made, so I get frugal, I get I got second hand clothes a huge percentage of time and those handed down to my brother, but he always provided.

Mom didn't work until we were out of the house. Raising two boys and I can tell stories... She SHOULD have been paid... She mentally survived though, I guess you do.

His cheapness didn't affect basic to intermediate auto repairs, my dad had everything done at a shop, I grew up craving to do it, oil/coolant /brake /transmission fluid changing, doing my own brakes, shocks, suspension, most top engine parts, diagnosing electrical and physical gremlins. I still do, not out of necessity but because I enjoy it.

Hurt when I told dad I would do his brakes, he never had me, I would just charge parts, I know where to buy them, just like oil, I can buy great quality brake parts for both axles and come in well under what a shop does mediocre for one axle in price, and they don't treat your car like it's theirs, the tactics in which one needs to remove parts at times with violence I am well versed, as well as taking the time to do it right and careful gets cut sometimes, but I respect it was his choice.

The most cheap thing he did and it pissed me off one time and I finally got him to understand was tipping. Ten dollar meal, 80 cents, 50 dollar meal a few dollars. Now I will say it's up to everyone to tip how they want, and I do agree tipping for things now in some respects are out of control, but I started out as a puppy in the service industry, and while I didn't need to earn tips, I ran the kitchen and interacted directly with those that did and my performance could fuck them from tips and so I made sure I cooked and plated like every meal made was mine.

We were up in Canada, stopped at some strip mall diner, ordered burgers, my dad thought his was not done quite enough, but otherwise everything was fine, we were trying to get to upstate NY to bury my grandmother, his mom and I get maybe he was under duress, but I was too, I was doing all the driving because I love to drive but still it's very long and need to focus too much, people are assholes when you take a nap for a bit driving for some reason, like jeez I get it🤣

I watched my dad get the bill, easiest was to pay with card, and not screw with the did different currencies.

I noticed be put a dash on the tip, just wrote the total on the bottom. Now if it's a place you get your food and no service after I get maybe adjusting.

We got multiple how are things? I had 3 Coca-Colas, he had mutiple cups of coffee, a napkin run.... So.... Was not like the server that ran his card and looked defeated as she watched him sign it deserved it.

We get out side, he's opening door, I stand at curb.

Me : dad wtf was that?

Dad :was what?

Me: why the fuck did you stiff the server

Dad: the burger wasn't that good

Me: so?

Dad: was expensive too

Me: no dad it wasn't, it's in their currency, it's same we pay

Dad: ok, well next time...

Me: next time what? Next time we go here? Have her as a server? Or eat again??

Dad: next time we eat

Me: well we are here now

Dad : we have a schedule

Me: the hell we do, so skip a rest stop if we have to, you know we are arriving over three days before she's buried, don't give me this schedule crap, we stop when we want, and don't push our trips

Dad: what do you want me to do

Me : go in there, tip her, tell her you're an ass or that you forgot, I don't care

Dad: next time

Me :did she do anything wrong with service

Dad :the burger was...

Me: no, not her sorry, go bitch to a manager or call the prime minister or something, that was the cook...

Dad : well my coffee mug had something on it

Me: ok.. Hey excuse me miss, can you flog the dishwasher or please get me another mug, somehow this one isn't clean...

Dad: ok! (opens up wallet) all I have is a 10 and hundreds, I will get change next stop....

Me: and drive back and tip her?

Dad : that's absurd

Me: (opening up my wallet) well I only have 20s, that's fine, but if you make me be the one to walk in and do it I am walking away

Dad : son you won't walk off

Me: yes, we both paid our own meals, I tipped her very well for mine, I am good walking to grandma's, not like if I don't make it she would know

Dad : you don't have the money...

Me : don't care I'll sell my body to science or give handjobs, but riding with you that can't understand the principle of the structure and your issues are mechanisms to justify not spending more than the tab, I have watched you for years, you get up from table and mom ends up digging money out of purse and laying tip at the table.

Dad : she doesn't...

Me :the fuck she don't, call her. She just laughs and says... That's your father... I'm not laughing

Dad : (walks into restaurant hands woman the 10 and she smiles)

*walking back to car*

Me: dad I know I was a dick, and I love you, but you irk me

Dad : I know, your mother got mad last week over same thing

Me: good

Dad: besides I need you to ride with me, no one wants your calloused hands giving hand jobs

*laughter *

He got better as he aged, helped I think to have kids move out of house, mom started working a bit after we moved out and food bill fell 🤣, he would ask me and mom what would be a good tip for the meal and service, for years he tried to wrap his mind around how I tipped, service not based on tab. Eat at a diner, server runs their ass off for you, 25 dollar tab, verses same effort from high end restaurant and they should get more? No... So I tip high compared to low tabs and normal for high, dad never understood how for a 12 dollar meal, I'd give 10 tip, not about the price to me.

As he aged he started to throw his money around more, but still had moments.

I remember the car accident, one I wrote about a while back, just out of Sudbury, Canada

Flipped the car, destroyed the vehicle, the car top carrier, the only time we brought our bikes to grandmas the were hanging off the back and trashed, mom had a concussion, Justin had a broken collar bone, so much lost and broken and he said... I just filled up the tank 20 miles back... Dang it should have waited.

#writers on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #dad things #personal

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really That Bad?

Come. Gather round and listen to the legend of the Funny Vampire Director, AKA the Funny Nazi Director, AKA Taika Waititi.

Raised in the way of the director, Waititi was taught to make good movies, delivering the sort of funny and heartfelt films most can only dream of making. He directed, and he wrote, and he acted. He was sensitive, like a smile. And his love of filmmaking did not discriminate in what he could make. He once made a hilarious vampire mockumenatry that got a spin-off TV series. Another time, he proved that you could make Blazing Saddles in the modern day, except with Nazis!

But Waititi's greatest achievement was cameoing in The Suicide Sqaud. Oh, wait. No. It was making a good Thor movie, of all things. But sadly, in making a good Thor movie, he set himself up for failure with the sequel. In fact, he set himself up for spectacular failure. Mediocre reviews. Audience backlash. Criticism from the actors and directors. And bad reviews from all sorts of internet guys, again and again and again. And again.

Poor Waititi had to watch the internet’s respect for him explode. And then he said, 'What have I done?' It seemed that everything he’d worked for with Thor, he lost. And so he maybe got fired by Marvel and went back to making real movies for a change. But just because he was done with Marvel, didn't mean he was done with superheroes. He teamed up with James Gunn and set off to deliver the most powerful and thematic line in The Suicide Squad. He got in shape, putting in the hard yards to become a respected filmmaker again. Taking pains into gains and never skipping the chance to direct a movie based on Tower of Terror. He put in the work to go from the butt of jokes to a guy who would hopefully deserve an Oscar win.

But with all that being said, there was still a confused reviewer just trying to figure out if maybe the backlash to Thor: Love and Thunder was a bit overblown. Because really, this movie couldn’t possibly be as shitty as The Dark World, which committed the sin of wasting Christopher Eccleston. So he sat down and gave the movie a rewatch, accepting he was only good for one thing... Determining that age old question, 'Is Thor: Love and Thunder really that bad?'

THE GOOD

So maybe this is a hot take, but I really did enjoy Jane’s return and her romance with Thor and find it to be one of the film’s best aspects.

Now, don’t get me wrong, a lot of the writing here is clunky and poor Natalie Portman is saddled with a lot of really stupid dialogue now that she’s the Mighty Thor. But seeing her and Chris Hemsworth act off each other again in a less dull and restrictive fashion is so nice, and seeing Portman kick ass is a lot of fun too. She even wields Mjolnir in some pretty creative ways here! And her death is actually a genuinely powerful and touching scene that they don’t immediately fuck up with a lame joke.

The soundtrack, while not even close to touching the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtracks, is filled with Guns N’ Roses banger after banger. I grew up listening to these guys, so honestly I’m predisposed to like any scene where they play one of my favorite tracks by them.”Sweet Child O’ Mine,” “November Rain,” “Paradise City,” and “Welcome to the Jungle” are all whipped out at just the right time to keep my attention from flagging completely, so I’ll give them props for that. They aren’t the most inspired choices, but I’m a sucker for classic Axl.

The Axl above? Decidedly less so. Still, despite this film’s reputation for really bad effects and really bad costumes and just in general looking embarrassingly cheap because Disney abuses the animators, there are some extremely cool visuals here and there. The shot of Falligar the Behemoth in particular is so good they slapped it into every trailer, and a climactic battle on a monochrome planet looks way too good to be in this movie. But by far the most fantastic thing is the comic-accurate depiction of Eternity.

And of course, I would be remiss to not praise Christian Bale’s performance as Gorr the God Butcher. The man immediately has you hooked with the opening scene, which details his backstory and shows how he began his vendetta against all the deities of the Marvel universe. Then we have his fantastic climactic confrontation with Thor on the black-and-white planet, and then there is his final scene before Eternity. Each and every time he shows up, it’s completely clear that Bale is giving it his all and acting his pussy off, giving a performance that is honestly kind of astounding considering what’s going on around him.

THE BAD

Unfortunately, while Gorr is a fantastic performance, he suffers from the fact his character has absolutely no cohesion and is barely in the film. He shows up for maybe one big fight in the first hour, then completely disappears from the film until the third act, during which time he just sits around with a bunch of children and terrifies them. And despite being “The God Butcher,” we see him butcher precisely one single god in the whole film, and that’s in the film’s opening. Groot has as many onscreen god kills as Gorr. That’s fucking pathetic. Bale’s magnificent performance is strong when it counts, but so much of the dramatic moments feel unearned because he hardly does anything outside those moments. The fact they cut out so much material including him meeting with Peter Dinklage’s King Eitri and Jeff Goldblum’s Grandmaster, really stings. Would it have been a crime to cut out those annoying fucking goats and instead give Gorr more to do like, oh, butchering gods?

It doesn’t help that the story never actually refutes any of Gorr’s points. Every other god we see in the film is egotistical, hedonistic, a coward, or all three at once, with even Thor reverting into a corny blowhard for much of the movie. Zeus is pretty much emblematic of this problem; while I actually did enjoy Russell Crowe’s performance (even if it is, ultimately, a half-baked attempt at recapturing the magic of Grandmaster from Ragnarok), the fact that Zeus is nothing more than a blowhard more concerned with orgies and showing off to all the other gathered deities just kind of proves Gorr right. The gods don’t care, they are refusing to help their followers, and frankly the universe would probably be a lot better if it was littered with Knowheres instead of having these horny clowns prancing about.

Then we have the Guardians. The glorified cameo from the Guardians of the Galaxy that was hyped up in all the marketing. Despite being in the movie for maybe ten minutes and despite Star-Lord having 95% of all the lines between them, nearly every single one of them feels completely out of character. Star-Lord, on the other hand, actually feels like he was rerailed in time for Gunn to take the reigns back, but it doesn’t make up for how awkward and pointless it all feels. Although it is incredibly hilarious that after all of them spent Infinity War fawning over him they all now seem to barely tolerate him, with it being confirmed none of them kept in contact with him after the events of this film. I honestly don’t blame them.

A lot of returning characters really suffer. King Valkyrie gets it pretty bad since her subplot where she searches for love was dropped, leading to her feeling really superfluous in the plot. Lady Sif gets it even worse, with her barely even being in this movie; one has to wonder why they even bothered keeping her alive. Thor gets hit especially bad here, because he seems to have reverted from his post-Ragnarok characterization all the way to pre-Thor characterization, with all his hedonism, goofing, gallavanting, insecurity, and egotistical traits ramped up to maximum levels.

But the most divisive returning character of all is Korg. Korg became a fan-favorite due to his appearances in Ragnarok and Endgame, where he was genuinely a funny comic relief character who juxtaposed his intimidating rock golem design with a friendly demeanor and the chipper voice of director Taika Waititi. The thing is, both of those films used him sparingly, so that when he got a lame joke it wasn’t so bad because it’s one up against dozens of good ones. Here though he gets to be a main character and even the narrator, and boy does he get old pretty quickly. The thing is, though, that even if he’s not particularly funny here… I still like Korg. He’s just too damn charming, As lame as his jokes are, as lame as his fake out death is, as pointless as he ends up feeling to the plot, I just can’t hate the guy. I guess it helps that he gets to be Disney’s 52nd First Gay Character, but actually for real this time because in the end he gets to make a baby with a rock guy named Dwayne. I also really like the theory that the reason the whole film is corny is because Korg is narrating it, and he’s an unreliable narrator peppering the story with lame jokes and underplaying elements that should matter. Does it save the whole movie? No. Does it make Korg any funnier? Also no. Does it add an interesting layer that at least keeps me from wanting Korg dead? Yes, yes it does.

And really, every single problem here is something that was there in Thor: Ragnarok. Zany comedy? A terrifying, threatening villain with a murderous vendetta who gets weirdly underplayed and barely interacts with the heroes? A villainous character played entirely for jokes? Jokes that completely and utterly destroy the tension of any given scene? The big difference is that in Ragnarok, at least some of the jokes were funny, and Thor had more interesting characters to bounce off of. And maybe most importantly, that film knew when to dial back the comedy to let cool or emotional moments breathe. And maybe even more importantly than that, it knew to keep Korg to a minimum. This film doesn’t do that at all, with nonstop gags undercutting nearly every dramatic moment. It’s ultimately hard to give a shit about anything going on when the characters give so little of a shit about it that they’re cracking jokes.

And let me tell you, if you couldn’t already tell, the jokes are fucking bad. This is basically what would happen if you asked Seltzer & Friedberg to make Marvel Movie. This is the epitome of all those jokes about Marvel dialogue having the characters go “Well that just happened!” to the point where I’m shocked it’s not actual dialogue. The horrendously unfunny screaming goat meme is a pivotal plot point in this movie; that’s the quality of jokes we’re dealing with here. And while there are a few decent jokes here and there, there’s just too many fucking jokes to pay them any mind.

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Somehow this is one of the most overhated and yet rightfully disliked films ever made.

Like, Schafrillas was right to call this the Shrek the Third of Thor films. It’s not funny, it derails beloved characters, it’s incredibly annoying, it wastes a good villain, and the writing is just so hackneyed and ridiculous. This is absolutely not a good film at all. But the way you hear some people talk about it you’d think this film killed their grandma.

Like I know bad comedies are some of the worst kinds of films out there, and this film is definitely horrendously unfunny at every opportunity, but it has just enough good ideas and just enough strategic deployment of Guns N’ Roses songs that it just barely manages to be passable in my eyes. I definitely think this is a mediocre movie, and it is emblematic of everything a bad Marvel movie can be. But at the same time, it manages to be unfunny in ways I didn’t think were possible from a director and cast this talented. I’ll be honest, on my second watch through of the movie I was more bored than infuriated with this film. It has its moments, but it’s absolutely one of the weakest efforts Marvel has ever put out.

This film is pretty much what critics once accused Batman & Robin of being: An overindulgent, campy, unfunny smear on a cool hero. As you well know by now, I don’t agree with them on that, but it’s a somewhat fitting descriptor for Love & Thunder. I don’t think it’s a smear on Thor, who has been way too inconsistent for me to get mad about him being taken in some wild direction, but overindulgent, campy, and unfunny are pretty apt. Still, I don’t think this is nearly as bad as a lot of people say. It’s not bad in a “crime against humanity” way, at worst it’s bad in a “I know the people making this are capable of better and I kinda feel like this is the fault of studio executives at Disney” kind of way. If you like it, sure, that’s valid! I don’t think there is no value in this film at all, especially compared to some stuff I’ve reviewed for Is It Really That Bad. But if I never have to see this movie again, I won’t exactly lose sleep over it, and I’m sure many people feel the same.

Still, I’d have to have a heart of stone to not find the ending, which features Thor and his adopted daughter (played by Hemsworth’s own daughter) becoming a cute little superhero team and getting a corny title drop right before the credits, really sweet. Yeah, it’s not a good movie, but at least it’s better than the first two Thor movies or the unseasoned oatmeal that is Eternals.

#Is it really that bad #IIRTB #Thor #Thor: Love and Thunder #Taika Waititi #Chris Hemsworth #Natalie Portman #Christian Bale #Marvel #Disney #MCU

[cozfics]

Pspspspspsps hey you

Imagine Wild from LU with a s/o tags just stupidly cold like all the time.

Now- imagine the group happen to be travelling through a snowy area, and s/o is low-key seconds away from passing out, despite being a cocoon of jackets and scarves.

AND NOW- imagine group is attacked, s/o is pushed down a snowy hill and lose some of their jackets and blankets in the fall.

They hit their head and are unconscious, but the snow is still falling so they're slowly being burried.

Cue panicked Wild.

Where are they?

Is that them!

No, just their coat.

Fuck, their coat. Theyre cold.

Cue more panic as he searches the snow for s/o.

He eventually finds them half covered in snow, shivering and pale, lips blue.

Cue: devastation.

Wild is FREAKING OUT! He needs to figure out how to warm them up while also finding the group.

What will he do?

Will s/o survive?

Find out next time...

Whenever you decide you want to take on this request and interpret it how you like. You choose the ending!!!

...

This is my roundabout way of asking for a request with this scenario, please and thank you<3

- pspsps anon

Chilly Tumbles (Wild x Reader)

Word count:2.2k

Pairing:Wild x reader

CW: Heights, hitting head, blood, mentions of others going without

Notes:Sorry about the long wait, hope it's worth it I really tried hard to make it good. I was really excited about this one too, sat down and wrote it all in one sitting, which is big for me!

The cold can kiss your ass. Honestly, you felt that way most days while you bundled up in layers of clothes most people called excessive, but never have you felt the sentiment of fuck the cold than you did right now as you hiked your way up Hebra mountains alongside the boys. And quite honestly? You felt awkward next to them. Here you were bundled in a sweater, and snowquill trousers you had borrowed from Wild, (Which really meant he had thrust them into your arms, and when you had tried to reject them so he didn’t freeze his ass off he had cut you off with “They’re a spare pair.” and walking away before you could argue any longer.) A scarf, winter hat, A winter jacket from home, and gloves alongside the cold resistence elixir. (How were you still so cold?) Meanwhile, the boys were dividing their resources amongst themselves. 

The only one who was remotely close to being as bundled up as you was the sailor, and while the young hero would normally be arguing against being favored over the others he was pretty quiet. He was wrapped in the spare snowquill coat with War’s scarf wrapped around his neck. You had lent him a pair of earmuffs, which he did actually try to argue about but he stopped after you explained it wasn’t about his age. It was because he grew up in a tropical environment. And besides his ear tips were red enough to rival Legend’s tunic. He needed them.

The rest of the boys had downed elixirs and meals and divided gear amongst themselves. Legend had a ring to keep him warm. Hyrule was bundled in the warm doublet. Apparently Wild had been working on grabbing extra clothes every time he popped in his world to help in situations like this.

You were currently bringing up the rear of the group, Only Hyrule and Four lagged behind you. It had just recently started to snow, as well. You wondered if Hylia was above you, laughing as the conditions around you reached whiteout levels. The cold bit at you through your layers. You realized you couldn’t see any of the others anymore. Before you could open your mouth a voice cut through the wind.

“We need to stick close. It’s getting bad out here. Wild is there anywhere we can take shelter until the blizzard blows over?” Time questioned, taking charge. You took his speaking as an opportunity to catch up to the bulk of the group. It seems Four and Hyrule had the same idea so now at least you were all together.

Wild had pulled out his sheikah slate, tapping away. “Nowhere we’d get to before the storm blows over, or without severely backtracking.” He responded after a minute. Time stood, obviously mulling over the choices he had.

“I will say, if we backtrack and come get these monsters another time, there’s still a chance this will happen again.”Wild put his slate back on his belt.

“And we’ve used a lot of resources to get this far..” Warriors remarked. That seemed to be enough for Time to give in and sigh.

“We’ll keep heading towards the peak then. Everyone stick close. Captain stick towards the back and make sure no one falls behind.”

With the decision to continue having been made, You pressed on. You hunched over, trying to stay as warm as possible. You were starting to vibrate with shivers as the temperature just kept dropping. How could the others be so…. Unbothered by this? It baffled you. It seemed like you would have quite some time to let your mind dwell on the question. You guys still had about a day's journey left to get to the supposed group of black-blooded monsters.

Within about an hour the wind had picked up loud enough that you couldn’t hear the crunching of snow. Or the cry of a startled Warriors as he was attacked. The cold and wind however didn’t keep you from feeling an impact to your side. You were caught unaware, launched in a direction. You managed to land on your feet, but there was something else the snow would hide from you it seemed. Where the ground was stable. Your foot slipped and the rocks under your good foot gave out. You would say you were approaching the ground at a rapid rate but quite honestly you had no idea as you tumbled down the side of the cliff. Pain erupted in your right shoulder as you slammed against a rock jutting out from the side of the mountain. You were relieved for a moment when you felt your fall slow, only to just barely have enough time to realize your jacket got caught on another rock. The rock ripped your jacket, leaving you to tumble out of it.

As if that wasn’t enough pain blossomed from your head as you hit it against the mountain. Then nothing.

The silver lynel had blended in with the blizzard. The boys hadn’t seen it till it was right on top of them. The really bizarre part was it was horridly out of its territory. Or at least that’s what Wild kept trying to insist to his teammates between dodging hits. Wind and Hyrule had sustained injuries leaving them out of commission for the fight already. Wild was trying to get enough distance to release some arrows into the damn thing's head. The only issue was that if he got far enough away that the attack would be effective, he wouldn’t be able to see the lynel.

Wild rolled to the side as the lynel took aim toward the skies to shoot arrows into the sky. Legend had (Dangerously And stupidly) Taken this chance to get close and slash the hoof of the beast. Wild bit back an annoyed groan as black oozed out. Well, that explains the abnormal behavior at least. The creature charged, slashing his sword at Wild, but his footing slipped. Wars, Legend, Wild, and Time all spotted the opportunity to attack the lynel, slashing at his back, his chest, and his hooves. Sky stabbed the monster's side and it let out a furious roar, rearing up as the boys scattered again. Wild didn’t like this. Thanks to the blizzard he couldn’t make out his brothers while they fought. One of them could be injured and no one would know. They would just have to hope that one of the others ran by them during the fight. That's how he found out about Wind and Hyrule.

Thinking on that when was the last time he saw Four… or you for that matter? He didn’t have much time to think about that as the lynel breathed fire his way and he had to quickly leap out of range. Yes! That’s the kind of opening he was waiting for! He took a running start and pulled out his paraglider to boost himself up into the air. With his newfound distance, he pulled out a bow and notched an arrow as he took aim. He released the string to fire the arrow right in the lynels head. The beast whipped its head and let out a pained roar, stumbling. Wild watched as his brothers seized the opportunity and ran in to beat the creature up a little more. Well, that answered where Four was. Wild hoped you were just tending to the injured.

Wild watched as the creature swung at Sky, sending him flying. Damn it! He was starting to get desperate. He watched the Lynel stumble from its leg injuries. Wild, who to be fair is known for being reckless, raced for the opening, launching himself on the lynels back. He mounted the lynel, slashing at it repeatedly. His brothers moved in again, using the distraction to their advantage. This time the beast crumpled. It stopped moving, finally dead.

“What in the goddesses' names were you thinking Wild! Do you know how dangerous that was! You could have died!”Twi was marching over.

“I knew what I was doing. I’ve done it tons of times before” Wild remarked.

“Not on a black-blooded Lynel”

“It’s my Hyrule. I knew how to handle it. The fight couldn’t drag on any longer, our elixirs will be wearing off soon.” Wild insisted. Twi seemed like he wanted to continue but Time interrupted. 

“It’s already done now. No point in fighting over it. We have injuries to attend to and potions to be handed out.”

Wild nodded. The snow was finally starting to let up. One thing that he noticed incredibly quickly was that you were nowhere to be seen. He started off walking around calling for you, but when he got no response it turned to frenzied running. Still nothing. He ran over to the others. Wild told them he was going to look for you and tossed some cold resistance elixirs their way before leaving to look for you. He didn’t give them a chance to object to his ideas, which they absolutely would have.

It didn’t take long for his search to lead him to the edge of a cliff. Oh no… He could see exactly where you slipped off. He started climbing down. Okay, okay this is fine. He’ll find you. You… you probably just found a cave to stay in.., Yeah! Wild finished climbing down the wall and started wading in the waist-high snow, calling for you. It was honestly really freaking him out that he couldn’t see ANY trace of you in the snow. He kept on walking.

A sudden thought hit Wild. Oh no... Your cold resistance elixir had to have worn off by now. You were probably freezing. He had to find you, and now! Wild perked up when he saw a flash of color in the distance. Ah! There you were! He began to race over, sloshing through the snow and nearly tripping over his own two feet in the process. After reaching his goal (And only face-planting in the snow a single time mind you!) He was all ready to celebrate and wrap you in a hug…. Except... It wasn’t you. It was just your damn coat… Your damn ruined and ripped coat. That you had to be freezing without. Aw for fucks sake! Why can’t things ever go to plan? Or well, Wild isn’t exactly known to plan. Ugh, why can’t things ever go to impulse! Okay, this is fine. Just a person lost on a snowy mountaintop, freezing to death. No pressure here Wild. He took in a deep breath and continued his search, not like there was much else he could do.

Wild kept himself busy scanning over the snow for any signs of you. It was the only thing keeping him from breaking something in frustration. Ah! There! He rushed over when he saw it. A place where something had obviously disturbed the snow. Even the blizzard couldn’t hide it. He made it over and started desperately digging, flinging the snow behind him like a dog digging a hole. The man seemed feral in his desperation. There you are! Lips blue and no longer shivering. But the good news is you were still breathing. Wild let out a sigh of relief. He began to check you over and he quickly noticed, that your head was bleeding. The snow around your head had turned red. There was no way he could take you up to the others, and he had no way to wake you up at the moment later. 

Honestly, both were problems he could face later, right now Wild had to find a way to warm you up so you even could wake up. Thankfully he had explored many nooks and crannies in his time here. There was a tiny cave nearby, nowhere near big enough to hold ten people, but it could easily house two people and a fire. He began to carry you that way.

Once you arrived in the cave Wild set you down and began to work on his fire. He kept you a decent distance from it. Warming you up too fast would threaten to put you into shock, and he knew you were deep into the stages of hypothermia. You’d be lucky if you lost nothing to frostbite quite honestly. The next thing he got started on was removing your wet layers to keep you from getting too cold. Of course, letting you warm up would have been easy, and nothing in any Link’s life was ever easy. So while he was trying to help you warm up, the world seemed to rumble.

Wild drew his sword, ready to fight whatever was stupid enough to try to attack him. As he got ready to leave the cave the world grew dark. You were snowed in. There had been an avalanche, and you were nearly dying from hypothermia. And no one knew where you or Wild were…. He sat down with his head in his hand to ponder the situation for a few moments, before moving to lay next to you, pulling you close to his chest to try to warm you up.  In this moment the only thing Wild could think of was how glad he was that there was a hole in the ceiling of the cave so he didn’t have to put out the fire. 

#pspsps anon #lu x reader #lu wild x reader #wild x reader #Still bad at endings

[angelasscribbles]

Heir Apparent Chapter 17: Unvarnished Truths

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Liam x Riley (past)

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, language, Depression mentioned

A/N: So I wrote the last chapter from a prompt. The prompt put it in my head but really I think I got a little ahead of myself lol. Not that anyone probably even remembers this one it's been so long.

This chapter takes place the week before the prior chapter. I wanted to explore some of the attempts at relationship repair before moving on to the fallout from the news of the pregnancy being leaked to the press.

I apologize to the fans of this story. I've stayed away from it for far too long.

Everything else: Master List.

The week before the news story broke…..

Liam x Drake

“I’ve always been jealous of you, you know.” Liam sat at the edge of his chair, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“What?” Drake fumbled the water bottle he’d been about to take a drink of.

“What?” Liam lifted his eyes in surprise as he regarded his lifelong best friend. “You didn’t know that?”

“Why would I know that, Li? It makes no sense! I’m the one that grew up in your shadow! You had everything that I didn’t. Money, privilege, respect…”

“None of those are things that you value.” Liam reminded him.

Drake was brought up short. “…that’s true, but still, having those things would certainly have made life easier. I had to work my ass off and prove myself over and over to obtain the things you were handed just for being born.”

Liam sat up straight as he studied Drake thoughtfully, “Do you resent me for that?”

“Of course not!” Drake scoffed, “You know that, right?”

Liam shrugged, “I thought I did. But it must have felt good to finally be able to have something I couldn’t.”

Drake stared at him for a long moment as the implication sunk in, “You mean Riley.”

“I mean Riley.”

Drake shook his head, “Are you serious right now, man? She’s not a fucking object! And I didn’t go after her out of some sense of wanting to take something from you! I fought against my feelings for her to the point of driving myself insane because of my loyalty and friendship to you!”

Drake jumped out of his chair, still holding the water bottle, and stalked to the windows lining the far wall of the large sitting room at Valtoria that was currently being used for their weekly therapy session.

The king of Cordonia couldn’t be seen entering the therapist’s office, nor could the therapist be seen entering the palace. So Liam had been coming to Valtoria once a week for the last month for therapy sessions.

Riley saw the therapist alone once a week for her depression, which had shown marked improvement.

Riley and Drake also did couples therapy once a week and every Wednesday the three of them met for family counseling.

This week, Dr. Bennett had requested that Riley not attend the session, to give Liam and Drake a chance to work out their issues with each other.

Dr. Bennett shifted her gaze from Drake back to Liam as she tapped her pencil lightly against the notepad in her lap.

Liam sighed as he ran a hand down his face.

“Liam, you asked if Drake resented you,” Dr. Bennett interjected, “I think it’s fair to ask if you resent him.”

“Of course I resent him!” Liam threw his hands up in the air, “He took the only thing I ever actually wanted for myself!”

“You’re talking about Riley?”

“Yes, I’m talking about Riley. I loved her!” He still loved her, but that seemed pointless to say.

Or feel.

“You said earlier that you were jealous of him,” the doctor continued, “Would you care to expound on that?”

Drake turned back toward the room, but he made no move to return to his seat. He stood with his back to the window bank fidgeting with the water bottle.

“Uh…” Liam watched the toe of his highly polished shoe as his foot tapped nervously against the floor, “To an outside perspective it may seem that I have everything. Money, power, titles, etc. But it all comes with a price tag, a hefty one.”

Drake’s face softened as he listened. He of all people understood what Liam’s life had been like, how the crown had constrained and shackled him.

He’d been there with him through most of it.

“Drake had the freedom that I didn’t,” Liam addressed his remarks to the doctor, “He had friends, real ones. I could never be sure who liked me for me and not my title or money. He had a father that actually gave a shit about him and showed it. I…I never really felt loved and accepted by anyone after my mother died….. except by Drake and Olivia.”

“Liam-“ Drake crossed the room back to his seat.

“So you can imagine how hurtful it was when one of the only two people I fully trusted stabbed me in the back!”

“Goddamn it, Li!” Drake threw the water bottle across the room, “I didn’t mean to stab you in the back, I fell in love!”                    

“With my girlfriend!” Liam jumped to his feet.

“No, no, that’s revisionist history!” Drake pointed his finger at him, “You two were never really together, and after the coronation-“

“You knew how I felt about her!”

“Okay, okay!” Dr. Bennett stood, holding her arms out between them, “Everyone calm down! Please, sit and let’s resume this discussion in a normal tone of voice.”

Both men glared at each other as they retook their seats.

“I understand that emotions are high and you both feel very strongly about this,” Dr. Bennett said, “But this is good. Leaving this unresolved will cause problems down the road. This is the kind of thing that will explode at the worst possible time. Working it out now so that doesn’t happen, is why we’re here. What I want you to do now is take turns talking. And when one of you is talking, the other one needs to listen! I mean truly listen and try to understand where the other is coming from, not listen just to respond. Can you do that?”

They both shifted their gazes to her and nodded.

“Okay. Liam, you start. Can you tell Drake why you feel so betrayed? And Drake, can you listen without interrupting? You’ll get a turn to talk when he’s done.”

Drake pressed his lips together and nodded as he folded his arms across his chest.

“You were always there for me, you know what my life has been like, Drake. This was the one thing, the only thing I have ever wanted, or asked, for myself! And you took it!”

“Maybe that’s the problem, Li. Maybe you only want her because you can’t have her.”

“What?”

“You didn’t lift a finger to help clear her name. And if it hadn’t been, you were planning to go through with marrying Madeleine! I never heard you call her the love of your life until she was engaged to me!”

“I couldn’t be open about my feelings before and you know that!”

“If I may…” Dr. Bennett interrupted. She waited for Liam to acquiesce then went on, “Riley is a human being with thoughts and feelings of her own. Drake didn’t make her fall in love with him. If she hadn’t returned his feelings, how he felt wouldn’t have mattered. She had a choice to make and she made it. You understand that, right?”

“I….” Liam slumped in his chair, “Yes.”

“Are you angry with Riley?”

“What?” He blinked at her.

“I see a lot of anger and blame directed at Drake, but you’ve just stated that you understand it was Riley’s choice to make. Are you angry at her for choosing Drake and not you?”

“I…I don’t want to be mad at her…”

“And why is that?”                         

“Because I love her, and it hurts to be mad at her! Blaming her makes it feel more real that she didn’t choose me! It…. it’s easier to blame Drake.”

Shit.

“That’s quite an insight, Liam,” Dr. Bennett said, “What do you think it means?”

“That I’m putting all of the blame on Drake so I don’t have to place any on her….or on myself.”

“Maybe it’s time you and Riley have a discussion about that,” Dr. Bennett suggested, “Shall we schedule a time for that?”

Riley x Liam

“I do love you, Liam.” Riley sat in the chair across from him, the one Drake had occupied the day before. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her eyes were locked on them.

“But you’re not in love with me, I know.” Liam sighed.

“I….” Riley’s eyes went to the doctor as if looking for permission for something.

Dr. Bennett nodded, “Whatever it is, it’s okay to say it. He’s just looking for the truth, whatever that is. He can’t move on without it.”

Riley twisted the fabric of her skirt in her hands as she spoke, “I am in love with you, Liam, just not as in love as I am with Drake.”

“What? So you love me but you just love him more?” Hope and bitterness filled him in equal measure.

She loved him.

Just not enough.

“Yes. And I trust him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I trust him, Liam!” Her hand curled into a fist that she banged on her leg in emphasis.

“And you don’t trust me?”

“Why would I trust you? You hid our relationship for months! You proposed to me then got engaged to another woman five minutes later! You asked me to be your secret side piece! You didn’t lift a goddamned finger to help with the investigation to find Tariq! You didn’t help with the scandal, you actively covered it up once you found out your father was involved! Only after my name was cleared did you propose to me again! Why would I trust you, Liam? Huh? Why?”

“Why did you sleep with me in Vegas?”

“What?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Riley! You chose Drake, you didn’t want me but yet you kept sleeping with me!”

“Not really. Vegas was just-“

“The Statue of Liberty.”

“Excuse me?”

“The night you turned down my proposal we went up in the statue and we had sex!”

“That was goodbye!”

“Obviously not, because Vegas happened! No wonder I’m having such a difficult time moving on, you keep giving me mixed signals!”

“I married another man, Liam! How much clearer could that be?”

“You fucked me two nights before your wedding!”

“I…”

“Why?” He demanded again.

“I…don’t know…”

“That’s a lie. Tell me why…please!”

Riley glanced wildly around at the doctor, at Liam, and then down at her lap again before whispering, “I already said it. Because I still love you.”

Happiness, rage, and disbelief all crashed through Liam’s heart. He raised his tear filled eyes to the doctor, “How am I supposed to move on when I know that she still loves me?”

He loved her, she loved him and it wasn’t enough.  

“You sound angry about that,” Dr. Bennett said.

“I am angry about it!”

Shock and confusion hit Riley, “Why are you angry that I love you?”

“I’m not angry that you love me, Riley. I’m angry that you’ve been denying that you love me and that you married another man…and not just any man, but my best fucking friend, knowing that you still had feelings for me! How was that fair to me or to him?”

“My feelings for you didn’t matter because-“

“Of fucking course they mattered, Riley! Your feelings matter!”

“My feelings for you didn’t matter because I chose Drake!”

“Did you choose him in Vegas?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because you just admitted that you fucking love me, Riley but you never even gave us a chance to work out our issues… You just bailed!”

“I fell in love with someone else!”

“Oh, I’m aware!”

“Liam, Riley,” Dr. Bennett interjected, “The two of you are going to have to co-parent for at least eighteen years. You’re going to have to figure out how to navigate this, for the sake of your child.”

“I know you’re right,” Liam said as he stood, “But I’m going to need some time to process all of ….this.”

“I understand.” Dr. Bennett replied, “Next week?”

“I’ll be here.” He said to the doctor as he shot a reproving look at Riley, then turned and left the room without another word.

“How are you feeling about what just happened?” Dr. Bennett asked.

“Not great,” Riley admitted, “I don’t like hurting him and I just seem to keep doing it.”

“I’m proud of you for reaching deep and admitting your feelings. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t. Just saying it out loud feels like I’m betraying Drake.”

“Speaking of Drake, don’t you think this is something you should tell him?” Dr. Bennett asked softly.

“Oh, no!” Riley looked up at her, eyes wild with panic, “I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it will destroy him!”

“I think your husband is more resilient than you give him credit for. Obviously, it’s your choice, but what if you don’t tell him, and Liam does? Shouldn’t he hear it from you?”

Riley x Drake

“Oh, thank God!”

She had imagined a lot of reactions from him, but that hadn’t been one of them. “You’re…happy that I still have feelings for Liam?”

“No. Definitely not. But I knew you did, Riley, because I know you! Your denying it is what caused me so much anxiety!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…..I knew you weren’t being truthful about that, so I thought you weren’t telling me the truth because you regretted choosing me! That you married me because you were mad at him then realized you’d made a mistake.”

“So you don’t care that I still have feelings for another man?” She asked indignantly.

Drake laughed humorlessly, “Of course, I fucking care! It’s my least favorite thing about you, Campbell, and it hurts but knowing the whole truth…that your love for me is stronger, that you trust me, that you actively chose me, not just defaulted to me, that you are still choosing me-“

“I will always choose you!” She sobbed, emotion overwhelming her.

Drake moved to her side and dropped down on his knees in front of her, “We’re supposed to be a team, babe,” he said as he peered up into her face.

“We are a team!”

“What happened to telling each other everything?”

“I’m sorry!” She leaned into his arms as he squatted in front of her, “I didn’t want to hurt you!”

“It hurts me when you don’t trust me. It hurts me when you don’t tell me things. Riley, look at me.”

She lifted her head and moved back a little so she could see his face.

His countenance was as serious as she’d ever seen it as he told her, “I believe we can get through anything. I am willing to work through anything with you, but I can’t work through an issue I’m not aware of. I thought we both learned our lesson about not trusting each other.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

The relief that washed through her was shocking in its intensity. A huge weight had dislodged from her chest. She hadn’t even been aware of how heavy it was until it was gone.

His worst fear had always been that she still loved Liam and that it was just a matter of time until she left him and went back to his best friend, so the news that she still had residual feelings for Liam should have distressed him more.

But he had already known that. He’d always known it was a lie when she denied it. He could read her body language as clearly as words on a printed page.

That worked both ways and he could tell when she was telling the truth. So when she told him that she would always choose him, she meant it, and he believed her.

The last lingering cracks in their relationship knitted back together.

#heir apparent #angelasscribbles #trr au #drake walker #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #drake x mc #drake x riley #trr fanfic

[secretsolarsystem]

A SADIE POST ??? ON MY DASH ???? how about drunk au or pen pal au or anything u fuckin want cus i will read it 🫶🫶🫶😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

HEHEHEHE HIIIIII MADISON <3 ILYSM FR U STAY ON MY MIND EVEN THOUGH I'VE BEEN GONE FOR 8 MILLION YEARS FR 🫶

the way I haven't been able to write a single word in MONTHS without immediately deleting it. and I just cranked this out. the power of Madison fr.

nooooo spoilers but I have a pen pal au outlined that I wanna write for the holidaysssssss AHHH so pls enjoy this drunk au <3

1.9k, modern au, changed their ages so Anakin’s 18 and Obi-Wan’s 21, under-age drunkeness, I’ll say dub-con just incase since Anakin isn’t sober but not much happens really everyone's okay, kindaaaa mature but again. not much happens really, Obi-Wan’s going through it typical college student style. it gets a little moree angsty than I intended at the end??? but this story has a happy ending in MY mind but do with it what you will <3

—

Can I Chrom ove

Shit

Can I come coer

Over. Pbi

Obi waaaaann

Obiiiiii wannnn can I comdvr PLEAEE

The string of texts gave the sense that Obi-Wan was taking hours, even minutes to respond. But checking the time stamps, they’d all been sent in the span of a minute. All of them had been sent at 1:38 in the morning.

Obi-Wan had already been awake, working on a grueling essay that he’d finally had a flow on and didn’t want to lose, sleep be damned, so he had the honor of watching these texts as they came in. The first one made him frown, not so much thrown off by the misspelling, but more so by the capitalization. Anakin never capitalized properly when he texted. (It was a point of contention for them that Obi-Wan did, and that he used proper punctuation.

“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? What’s wrong? You can just tell me, you know. I thought we were closer than that.”

“Anakin, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Your text. Do you not want to go anymore? Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“I’m so confused, Anakin. Did I not say that meeting at the theater at three sounded, and I quote, ‘good’?”

“Obi-Wan, you said, and I fucking quote, smart ass, ‘Sounds good.’ You wrote ‘sounds good’ with a capital S and a period at the end.”

“…Right. Yes.”

“Obi-Wan, you see why I thought you hated me, right? You see it? Right?”

The conversation went on for a few more minutes, and during the trailers, and during dinner after the movie…)

So, once he saw ‘Can I come coer,’ Obi-Wan knew Anakin was drunk. He watched all the other texts come in, and his smile grew as they did. He didn’t know if his name – at least what he was assuming was supposed to be his name – spelled as ‘Pbi’ or the desperate ‘PLEAEE’ was his favorite, but just to be sure they were forever preserved, Obi-Wan took a quick screenshot.

Just as he was about to respond, Obi-Wan saw the typing bubble pop up from Anakin and waited to see what he would add, when a loud thud came from his window. Obi-Wan’s head whipped around so fast that if adrenaline hadn’t immediately spiked through his body he would probably feel a fierce twinge in his neck.

A moment later, though, he slumped back into his desk chair with a heavy sigh and an annoyed shake of his head when he saw Anakin on the other side of the window, head pressed against the glass and dark blue eyes looking in, searching for Obi-Wan. Since Obi-Wan still had lights on, Anakin was probably looking mostly at his own reflection, but his drunken mind didn’t care.

Obi-Wan walked over and tapped the window, feeling slightly bad about having to scare Anakin, but Anakin had just scared the shit out of him and it got him to take his head off the window, so he only felt slightly kind of sort of bad about it.

He opened the window, and greeted Anakin’s slurred, “Obi-Waaaaaan!” with a shush and out-stretched hands. “Come on, come inside,” he said, helping Anakin’s long limbs climb in through the window. When Anakin finally made it in, despite Obi-Wan’s help, he fell into a heap on Obi-Wan’s floor, squealing while Obi-Wan cursed. “Why didn’t you just knock on the door, Anakin?”

“B’cus,” Anakin said, accepting Obi-Wan’s help to right himself, sitting on the floor now with his back against the wall under the window. “Gotta sneak. Mom’ll kill me.”

Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head, though now he wore a fond smile. He could never be mad at Anakin for long. They’d known each other for four years now, ever since Anakin was a high school freshman and Obi-Wan had been a junior, and they’d surely fought during all those years, but the anger never lasted for long – if it was ever there to begin with. If he took the time to really consider it, Obi-Wan couldn’t remember a time that he was actually mad at Anakin.

(Maybe that one time he dated that girl from their school’s student government, but Obi-Wan never took the time to really consider that. That was over and done, anyways.)

“Your mom’s not here though. Were you trying to go home?” Obi-Wan asked. His essay flow left the second Anakin thunked his head against his window, so Obi-Wan figured he could take Anakin home and just go to bed.

“No,” Anakin said emphatically, looking at Obi-Wan as though he’d just asked Anakin if wanted to go sky diving into an active volcano. “She’ll kill me, Obi. I gotta stay here. Can I stay here? Please, Obi, she’ll kill me, kill me ’til I’m, like…dead.”

Obi-Wan smiled again, both at Anakin’s rambling and the memory of his ‘PLEAEE’ text. “Of course you can. Let’s get you up on the bed.”

Anakin sighed with unfathomable relief, even as he groaned at Obi-Wan moving him up and off the floor. Once he sat heavily onto the mattress, Anakin immediately fell back onto the pillows with another happy sigh.

“Thank you, Obi. The best. Obi the best, you’re the best. M’sorry I woke you up,” Anakin said, sinking into Obi-Wan’s pillows.

Obi-Wan walked over to his desk, saving and closing his essay and shutting his laptop. “I was already up, don’t worry about it,” Obi-Wan assured, turning off his desk lamp and walking back over to sit on the edge of his bed.

Although it was a struggle, Anakin propped himself up, frowning at Obi-Wan. “Why? S’late. You talkin’ to someone, Obi? Someone pretty?” he interrogated, though it was hard to take seriously, considering how he struggled not to sway back into the pillows and to keep his face looking serious.

Obi-Wan laughed. “Oh yeah, talking to all the hot authorities on the history of banned literature,” Obi-Wan said, wiggling his eyebrows. He knew in Anakin’s drunken state he’d miss the fact that Obi-Wan was referring his research paper, so he moved on. “Why are you here right now, Anakin? Have you been drinking with someone pretty?” He ignored the ugly feeling he got in his stomach at his own joke, and maintained his smile.

Anakin huffed out a breath of air and stopped himself from falling back again. “Graduation,” was the explanation Anakin gave. Obi-Wan understood, though, of course. While Obi-Wan was scrambling to finish his assignments and be done with his junior year of college, Anakin and his friends were getting ready for their high school graduation coming up. Obi-Wan couldn’t wait to watch Anakin walk across that stage, his bright smile beaming and surely putting on a show for his friends in the crowd. At Obi-Wan’s own high school graduation, Anakin whooped and hollered so loud during Obi-Wan’s entire walk Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at him in the stands. Obi-Wan probably wouldn’t be quite as loud, but he couldn’t wait to cheer on Anakin.

It was bittersweet, though, because Anakin was going out of state for college. Even if he’d gone to Obi-Wan’s university, they’d only have a year together, but even then they could hang out after Obi-Wan graduated. Now, it was going to be at least four years until they’d see each other again outside of holidays – that is, if Anakin decided to come back home after he graduated, and that was anything but guaranteed.

Obi-Wan didn’t know how Shmi was handling it; Obi-Wan was a wreck. But he only let his genuine pride and excitement show, because he’d never forgive himself if Anakin let such an amazing opportunity slip away because his friend Obi-Wan was sad.

“Are all of you excited?” Obi-Wan asked, and was surprised when Anakin struggled to push himself up and forward to press into Obi-Wan’s side, his head dropping heavily to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Anakin?”

“M’nervous,” Anakin mumbled into Obi-Wan’s shirt. “Gonna be so far. From home. Mom. You.” Anakin lifted his head to say the last word, so it was breathed right onto Obi-Wan’s neck. “Gonna miss you, Obi. Came here ‘cause I knew you’d take care of me. Always take care of me,” Anakin rambled on, running a hand across Obi-Wan’s stomach to hold him in a loose hug.

“You’re gonna be fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan made himself say, heart and mind racing at Anakin’s words and touch. Of course Obi-Wan had always felt so strongly for Anakin – of course he did. Anakin was smart and funny and brave and beautiful. Of course Obi-Wan loved him, but they were best friends. Always just Anakin and Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan told himself he was content with that, because it let him keep Anakin and let let him be kept by Anakin, in some sense.

“But who’s gonna take care of me, Obi-Wan?” Anakin breathed against Obi-Wan’s skin. He was somehow closer now, so each word brushed his lips against the skin of Obi-Wan’s neck. He trailed his hand down before Obi-Wan’s brain could comprehend what was going on, and was suddenly palming Obi-Wan’s cock, which Obi-Wan realized just in that moment that he was half hard. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, and Anakin’s movements continued, rubbing Obi-Wan’s cock, both of them feeling it get harder and harder in his jeans.

“Who’s gonna take care of you?” Anakin panted, craning his neck to press a sloppy kiss to the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan turned his head towards him without thinking, just acting purely though shock, turning to look at him with big eyes and question on his lips, but Anakin was quick to lick it away and try to kiss him again.

“Anakin, you’re drunk,” Obi-Wan said, breathless, every single nerve alight and every single muscle tense.

“Mhm,” Anakin agreed, his kiss doing nothing but making Obi-Wan’s face wet.

“So we have to stop,” Obi-Wan tried.

“Nooooo,” Anakin whined, not stoping any of his actions, speaking right up against Obi-Wan’s face. “Just…Oh! Get drunk! Yeah, get drunk, Obi, so you can kiss me.”

Anakin’s fingers moved to the button of Obi-Wan’s jeans, fumbling there as he continued to press his lips to Obi-Wan’s in an attempt of a kiss. Obi-Wan’s hand finally came up to grab Anakin’s to stop him; he’d been dying for this to happen, but this was all wrong. It wasn’t anything like Obi-Wan had hoped, like he’d imagined, and he didn’t want this to be ruined for either of them.

He grabbed Anakin’s hand, and it stopped, easily. He turned his head away, and Anakin let him, easily. And Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to sit back and do something – laugh, cry, yell, ramble, shrug, vomit, anything – but Anakin simply slumped his entire weight into Obi-Wan. A ball of pure anxiety now, Obi-Wan waited without even breathing, and heard as soft snores started coming from Anakin.

Obi-Wan couldn’t even help it; he laughed. Anakin had just – just, what, confessed? And then kissed Obi-Wan and groped Obi-Wan’s hard dick, and then proceeded to fall asleep on top of Obi-Wan, his head on his shoulder and his hand still on his crotch.

Shaking his head out of fondness and incredulity, Obi-Wan moved Anakin to lay down on the bed, and he went, easily. He fell back onto the pillows and kept snoring, his sleep anything but disturbed. Obi-Wan took a moment to look at Anakin, to appreciate the way his lashes laid on his alcohol-flushed cheeks and the part of his lips and his curls falling around him like a halo.

Obi-Wan took this in, smiled, and went back to his desk. He opened up his laptop, opening his essay. His flow was still gone, but he needed to do something, anything except think about what the fuck had just happened.

from this prompt list prompted fic collection on ao3

#me: writer's block so severe I cannot write literally a single word #madison: hiiiii :3 #me: TWO THOUSAND WORDS JUST FOR YOOOU <33 #ilysm fr <33 #sorry for the ending fr #obikin #ask #prompt #my writing

[noffy96]

Kustardweek Day 2

Wrote this on the train yesterday. Decided to use this prompt to add to my Mer Au! So enjoy!

Sorry if it isn't as polished as my other work. But i am still really proud

Photo surprise

Word count: 778

Chapter (1) (Complete)

Chapter Summary:

“How do you think they come up with this shit?”

Red mumbled with a bit of a slur, and he tilted his head back to indicate he had heard him. Letting out a questioning noise. Red pointed at the tv, that he had tuned out over an hour ago. He had just focused on the gentle breathing beneath him, slowly drifting him into a low slumber.

or

Sans and Red, see a commercial about a mermaid. After a comment from Red, Sans gets a idea

made for kustardweek2023

Link here to AO3

Or continue below the read-more line

He yawned deeply and took another gulp from his beer can. Sinking back more into Red’s hold.

It had been too long since they had done this. If there was one thing the ocean doesn’t have it’s good good alcohol. Drinking with Red had become one of his favorite activities when he spent on the surface. But now with him going back and forth for the bi-weekends. He couldn’t risk being hungover for the long track back. Not to mention Papyrus would yell his head off if he did.

“How do you think they come up with this shit?”

Red mumbled with a bit of a slur, and he tilted his head back to indicate he had heard him. Letting out a questioning noise. Red pointed at the tv, that he had tuned out over an hour ago. He had just focused on the gentle breathing beneath him, slowly drifting him into a low slumber.

But he refocused and saw that it was playing a commercial about an animated movie was playing. It seemed to be about a mermaid that gave up her voice for legs. Or something of the like.

“Aint that based on those old human tales, before the monsters came back into society?”

He felt Red shrug, his hand scratching away some dirt absentmindedly

“Just wondering what they think we have to give something up”

He gave a shrug jostling Red’s head on his shoulder who gave an angry grumble

“Don’t fucking know dude. Humans are weird. For them apparently, a horse with a horn counts as mystical! So I can’t fucking tell what’s normal for them”

Red gave a sage nod and seemed to absent-mindedly nuzzle his face closer and got a small kiss on his neck. And they continued to watch their show.

“You ever seen this movie?”

Red mumbled later when the next rum of commercials was airing, at the same ad, was playing.

“Once” He gave an answer

“You tried doing some of the stuff in it?” He snorted

“Like what, her twist and loops in the water? Or jumping out of the water? “

Red shook his head

“That one scene on the rock, with the singing after the prince woke up and is walking away”

He Frowned “Don’t have much of a singing voice, so No. Also, someone could spot me!!”

Red just nuzzled in deeper and mumbled, probably not realizing he was talking out loud.

“Bet you would look pretty though”

He fiddled with the camera. Double and triple checking it was Steady. And the camera angle was right. Fiddling with the settings, the timer would take pictures every couple of seconds. And once he was happy with everything. He sighed deeply, fixing the clear straps on his shoulders, and dove down to get into position. …. The things he did for his love

He didn’t make a big deal out of it. It took some planning to print the pictures at the local library without being spotted. He earned Edge a huge ass favor for that one. As soon as they were done he slipped them into a blue envelope and then hid them between some of Red’s hoodies.

He had intended for Red to find in between the meetings. But that morning, when he rolled over to make a flirty comment as Red grabbed some clothes. It had slipped out and saw Red pick it up. As he took out the pictures his boyfriend's face coloured into his namesake. Also, his eyelights grew to almost overtake his whole sockets.

“Wha….How…Why?” Red finally managed to Sutter out.

He shrugged helplessly his own face still Blue

‘Just wanted to give you something nice’

Red stalked back over to the bed. Quickly casing him in against the mattress

‘It’s very nice indeed

And Red crushed their teeth together in a harsh kiss. Wasting no time at summoning his tongue and licking at the seem of his mouth begging for entrance. After a few seconds of sitting there stunned he started to return the hungry kisses.

When they finally broke apart Red, spoke against his teeth

“I knew you’d be fucking pretty Before crashing for months together once more with no information of leaving the bed any time soon.

On the ground lay the picture he had taken. It was a picture of Sans in his mer form. Just like the mermaid girls of the movie sitting on a rock with a big wave splashing behind him. While wearing a replica of the shell top. A light flush on his face, as the sun hit him

Later it would be put in a special album Red keeps for special memories.

#kustard #kustardweek #kustardweek2023 #undertale #underfell #undertale sans #underfell sans #noffy's writing #fanfic

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Aang’s Vow of Nonviolence

Big things have been happening in Llama’s life lately, career-wise, and it’s good, but it means I gotta not spend all my time writing and actually, you know, work. (Which I think actually does good things for my writing, because I wrote AND FINISHED Fire and Water (165k words) during fucking Get Out the Vote somehow) (and we kicked ass Getting Out the Vote, just saying)

Anyway, as I try to get back into the schedule of actually having a life and employment, I’m gonna try to get back to posting WiP Wednesdays more often, as well as any finished chapters/fics I have.

SO all that said - this fic is something I started because I have a LOT of feelings about Aang’s vow of nonviolence and his people’s belief in peace. Enjoy!

Zuko: Well, that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster, and the worst father in the history of fathers. Aang: But he's still a human being. Zuko: You're going to defend him? Aang: No, I agree with you. Fire Lord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him, but there's got to be another way. Zuko: Like what? Aang: I don't know.

––

Zuko did not expose his body idly, Aang had noticed quickly. From what he knew about Zuko, it was easy to see that if he didn’t feel comfortable doing it, he wouldn’t. Which meant that when he took off his shirt during practice, he was trusting Aang with what he saw.

Because there was a lot to see. Like, a horrifying amount.

Zuko was covered in scars. None were as bad as his face, but the sheer number of them…

The only reason Aang had been able to resist going into the Avatar State from sheer horrified anger the first time was because he knew it would just scare Zuko away and make him regret offering this piece of trust.

So instead, Aang swallowed down his temper and acted like there was nothing to see, nothing to comment on. Zuko smiled at him in response, so he knew he chose correctly, but even so, every time he saw Zuko’s bare skin, he was filled with such impotent rage and hatred that it scared him.

It scared him because he wanted to hurt Ozai, he wanted to make him suffer the way he’d caused Zuko to suffer. Ozai deserved to suffer, to die even.

But Aang couldn’t kill him. He just couldn’t.

He was the last of the Air Nomads, the last who understood the true meaning of air: freedom. Freedom from violence was part of that. Aang believed in that. He believed in his people’s pacifism and he believed in nonviolence and yet, he still wanted to make Ozai suffer.

And that was precisely why he couldn’t. Because – because if Aang crossed that line, there would be no coming back. He was the Avatar, he was extremely powerful and the Fire Nation may not like him much, but the rest of the world listened to him in a way that still kind of freaked him out.

If he made the decision to hurt Ozai, to kill Ozai, no one would stop him.

So he couldn’t make that decision. Because it wasn’t about Ozai at all – it was about Aang and what he believed and he refused to compromise his values for the kind of scum that could burn a child.

Extensively.

Spirits, Zuko had so many scars, it made Aang want to cry. Each one was an instance of the world failing his friend. Each one was an instance where someone should have protected Zuko, but no one ever did.

Each one challenged Aang’s belief in nonviolence – but Aang refused to be overcome in this. Ozai deserved punishment, yes. But Aang believed in doing no harm, and his job as the Avatar was to bring balance and justice, not revenge.

He refused to kill Ozai, because as horrible of a person as Ozai was, he was still a human being and Aang had made a vow when he’d gotten his arrows and he would not break it. His people had taught him that every human being deserved life and liberty and compassion and basic necessities no matter what.

Because if Aang did to Ozai all the things he wanted to… he would be no better than Ozai, who took this anger and irritation out on Zuko and on the world simply because he could.

Unfortunately, Aang knew that Zuko didn’t understand, because the next morning after Aang had expressed that he refused to kill Ozai, Zuko’s shirt was back on during firebending training.

Zuko didn’t take it off, even when it meant that he had to concentrate harder to keep the flames from eating his sleeves, and Aang knew what he was truly saying.

I showed you my scars, Zuko said, and you refuse to stop the man who gave them to me. I gave you vulnerability and you threw it in my face.

Aang wanted to cry. “Zuko,” he started quietly, but Zuko immediately turned away, voice terse.

“Next set.”

He blinked rapidly, falling into the next kata just as Zuko instructed. He tried to respect that Zuko didn’t want to talk about it, he really did.

Then he reached out to touch Zuko’s forearm and – Zuko flinched. Zuko hadn’t flinched at his touch since they’d danced with the dragons together.

Aang withdrew his hand instantly and tried not to cry. How could he fix this?

He took a breath and blurted out, “I want to kill him.”

Zuko stopped. “What?”

“The – the Fire Lord,” Aang said, trying to continue, because this was the most willing Zuko had been to hearing what he had to say all day. “I want – spirits, Zuko, I want to make him suffer. He deserves to suffer.”

“Then why–!?”

“Because he’s still a human being. Because I made a vow to never bend with the intent to harm another creature. Because I’m the only one left and I can’t betray my people. I can’t!” He sniffled, aware of the heat in his eyes. “I’m not – I’m not saying he isn’t horrible. He is. The world would be better off without him. But I can’t kill him!”

Zuko frowned, mouth opening.

“And I can’t allow him to be killed either,” Aang said flatly. “It’s not – it’s not about him, Zuko. It’s about me. I made a vow before the Great Spirit Lungta and the Elders of the Southern Air Temple that I would do no harm. This – this isn’t just–” he could feel the tears overflowing, dripping down his cheeks. “This is important to Air Nomads! There were different levels of vows, but just to enter a temple, you had to pledge that you would do no harm. Because the temples were places of peace and nonviolence.” He sniffed deeply, wiping at his eyes. “Nonviolence is core to who we are, Zuko. It’s not just – it’s not something casual. It’s our whole life. And it’s not easy! It’s not supposed to be easy!”

“What?” Zuko’s nose scrunched in confusion.

“All life is sacred,” Aang explained, “but pacifism is about more than that. It’s about intent. We take vows that we will never willfully harm others, that we will never raise a fist in anger, that we will forgive rather than punish. And it’s – it’s hard to forgive. It hurts. But it’s a choice I make because that is what my people would want of me. Because it is hard, but it’s important to do so anyway. Because violence only ever begets more violence and because I will not break my vows. I am the last Air Monk in the world. I can’t betray my people’s teachings. I can’t.”

Zuko absorbed that in silence for long minutes, then he nodded slightly. “Next set,” he said and Aang hopped up to practice, glad that he’d been heard.

Zuko still didn’t take his shirt off, though.

Aang told himself that he couldn’t push, that Zuko could only trust him when Zuko was ready to. But it hurt something deep in his chest to have lost this measure of vulnerability from Zuko and he swallowed down tears, wishing – but what good had wishing ever done? He wished his people were still here, but they weren’t. He wished he and Katara could be together, but they weren’t. He wished the war was over, but it wasn’t. He wished the whole world was at peace, but it wasn’t.

He wished Zuko trusted him, but Zuko didn’t and he couldn’t force that to change.

All he could do was his best, and if his best wasn’t ever enough… well, he would just have to respect Zuko’s choice, no matter how much it made his chest ache.

It was hard, knowing that no one left in this world truly understood what nonviolence meant to his people. Knowing that his friends, for all they tried, couldn’t really conceive of what it would mean to live a life without the need for violence.

Knowing that when Aang said ‘peace’, they heard one word and not the eighty-seven others that had individual names amongst the Air Nomads, but which all translated the same.

Not really sure where to go after this, so suggestions welcome, but yeah. Aang is a PACIFIST and that’s a BIG DEAL!!!! 

#atla #zuko x aang #zukaang #eh kinda #sorta gen #wip wednesday

[secretsecretbunny]

it's long I'm sorry but your fault for telling me to share the story 🙄🥰

I don't know how much you know about k-roleplay but it's the most embarrassing part of my life

krp is basically a community with extremely delusional kpop fans role playing as idols. I had just gotten instagram (2013, I was 13) and I randomly met a girl there and we became friends. she told me to download Line (a messenger app) and she added me to a group when I did. the group members had names and pics of idols and were talking as if they're them. I was an actual child (on top of that, I was extremely childish) so I went along

years passed, I dated girls that role played as guys, got cheated on several times, got my heart broken, found out heartbreak is an actual physical pain, cried, laughed, made one real friend (we're still long distance besties, sisters by heart, after 10 years) THEN I was done with it

I was an army since their debut, back when every kpop fan was bullied. until 2017 when I stopped. it was difficult bcs I was in a really bad state (mentally) and their songs helped me a lot

I thought I'd need a closure of some kind, so I went on kakaotalk and texted so many bts roleplayers. they mostly didn't answer. the conversation didn't go on with the ones that responded. but there was this one person... I genuinely enjoyed talking to them

it was around May, 2017, when we started talking. in September, I had caught feelings for that person. I didn't know their gender, age, etc. but I liked them and we were cutesy flirting

it went on like that. it was a Japanese guy 4 years older than me. he confessed to liking me on his bday (July 23rd, 1996) when I wrote something heartfelt for him on wattpad

we were a couple after that. I was in love. I don't wanna talk about the relationship. all I can say is that it became toxic after some time. some said I was groomed since I was 17 (just graduated from high school) and he was 21 (a working adult)

he broke up with me on February 2nd, 2021 and I took until 2023 to fully move on from him

he completely disappeared from my life. he texted me one time, days after my bday, to congratulate me. my prideful show off narcissistic ass BEGGED HIM to let me love him even if he hated me

for over 2 years, he was my only thought. he was the first guy I loved, trusted, shared my secrets and insecurities with. I was there when he lost a family member, I was there when he lost the dog he grew up loving, I was there when his sister got married and had her daughter, I was there when he did awful things to himself. but apparently all those things didn't mean shit to him

yk how you'd just assume chan stans are nice bcs chan is nice? I stupidly assumed something similar

his bias was hobi...

Okay wow. A few things:

I've been a kpop fan since 2009 and somehow didn't know k-rp was a thing (glad)

You were definitely groomed and I'm so sorry you had to go through that, I've been through similar and it's literally so confusing and gut wrenching.

Hobi would fucking hate that man and would absolutely never even entertain the thought of doing something like that. That "man" doesn't deserve to bias Hoseok.

if he ever tries to weasel his way back into your life... I'll kill him ☺️🔪

#asks #i love you anon #be strong and pray for that fuckers downfall

[orchidyoonkook]

Writer's ask game!

4, 5, 43, and 97!

😘😘😘

Hi Violet!! I love you.

As always, I talk to much so: ⬇️⬇️

4. What is the plot bunny you've been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven't written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

TWWWBAATTA was the only one that REALLLLLLY wouldn’t leave me alone. But besides that I don’t really get plot bunnies. More one liners or super vague ideas in the form of beats that I keep circling back to.

So like one of the ones that’s always in my head as a title is “Arrival of the Last”. But I don’t know what to do with it yet.

Or one of the ones that’s a beats one is:

“Cool, could I get her number then?”

“Does your face enjoy meeting concrete?”

“Uh .. no?”

“Well then there’s your answer”

But again. I don’t know what to do with it yet.

As for the bonus question. I work in cycles due to my adhd. So all of these ideas came from an ON cycle for writing. And right now I’m in an off cycle so writing is much much harder for me. Which is why I started the book thing. To try and bump writing and reignite my passion for it.

5. Have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to proerastinate when you could have been aetually writing and if yes drop a link, son

Yes! But also no? Back when I was 19 I was writing this grandeur story that is buried somewhere on an old hard drive. And I couldn’t work on it unless I was listening to non album twenty one pilots songs. So I made a private YouTube playlist, but I can take pics:

43. How did writing change you?

If I say it hasn’t does that count?

I’m one of those people whose really creative in a bunch of things. Like I can look at a crafts project and just figure out how to do it, hence how I made the book. But writing was always one of those things that I was never any good at. I sucked at it in school and it wasn’t a hobby for me. I didn’t even write anything for myself until my previously mentioned grandeur story. And then I stopped that for two years because I got sick of it. And then and then I had the TWWWBAATTA dream and here I am now.

So it hasn’t changed me, but I definitely feel better about it. I still have a long long long ways to go before I’m anywhere near decent (not that I don’t like my writing now. I’m just new. And that’s okay)

The only thing that has changed about me is I wrote the word fuck for the first time. IRL I don’t really swear. Like. Ever. I’ve never even given anyone the finger. And the worst I say is shit or ass.

So writing swear words has been a fun little experiment.

97. Abstract or detailed romance scenes?

Both. Because neither is better than the other. I like abstract when I know a love scene isn’t needed. It just has to be implied. I grew up on YA so I was and am very used to it.

But I also love detailed and nitty gritty. I’m a smut lover so I don’t mind all the gorey details. Plus so many people have a talent for writing them so who am I to not indulge in their talents.

#THANK YOU VIOLET. I ADORE YOU #violetsiren90 #ask games #ask games with yoon #asks #ms.mailbox📬