#if one of them was a girl this would automatically be read by the general public as a flirty scene

[coldgpa]

You can literally see that they are physically close enough that eddie is jostling the vest steve is wearing. The way he slightly purses his lips and his mouth twitches while hes seemingly entranced by every word eddie utters...

And the fact that steve only breaks his unblinking staring when eddie glances back at him... like he didnt want to be caught.

#stranger things #steddie #if one of them was a girl this would automatically be read by the general public as a flirty scene #why did they choose to have steve to do the scene with him #why did they choose steve to do all of those long monologues with #why #steve was literally about to wet his lips #analysis #not really an analysis but im jistbtaggingnit as that to compile all my posts like this one

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men with a small-chested reader

Pairings: Toji x reader; Gojo x reader; Choso x reader; Nanami x reader; Sukuna x reader; Geto x reader

Word Count: 4,5k

Warnings: this is LONG so get seated; reader gets confronted with hate regarding small boobs so if that's not for you don't read, also this implies JJK men are into small boobs so if that triggers you don't read, smut mentioned in Toji's & Nanami's part, abusive ex relationship in Nanami's part, Gojo is a dick in Geto's part and in general I feel like this one isn't that great so sorry for all my Geto lovers out there I'm tired

Click here for the big-chested version

Toji Fushiguro

You can’t help but let yourself fall into his rough touch, enjoy the sensation of his body pressed against yours. How you ended up here? You couldn’t care less. Is it pretty bad to be minutes away from getting laid by your enemy? Maybe, but you don’t give a damn.

Until his hand yanks towards your breasts.

“N-No. Stop”, you whimper, pushing against his broad shoulders to get him off you.

“C’mon, what’s wrong babe? Don’t ya enjoy yourself?”, he purrs against your ear.

Oh god, just the sound of his deep voice lets your mind wander to places where it hasn’t been for ages, makes you arche your body towards him like a needy teenager.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

But just when he’s about to stretch his hand towards your chest again, you lift yourself off the couch so suddenly that you almost fall over. No, you just can’t do this.

Automatically, you cross your arms in front of your chest, eyes gazing down at the nothingness you hold. Since you can remember, you’ve got picked on for having small boobs. Oh, how desperately you waited throughout whole puberty for them to finally grow, how much you secretly begged for those delicious female curves you’ve seen all over media and anime. But every time you look into the mirror, you are greeted by basically nothing. If a man like Toji would see you like this. God, if he only touches your breast and realizes that your décolleté comes from nothing but a push up bra…

It’s impossible for a man like him to find a woman like you attractive. Why were you even stupid enough to consider a one-night stand with him, when looks are the only thing that really counts? If he sees you’ve been lying into his face, that you don’t look like those girls on magazines…

Would he make fun of you? The disappointed look on his face as soon as he unclips your bra would be too much to handle alone.

“I can’t do this. Sorry”, you mumble, fingers frantically straighten your clothes.

Just forget about what happened today. Get home, take off your bra and stare at the ceiling. You don’t need a man to satisfy your needs anyway…right?

He grabs you by your waist so suddenly that you aren’t even able to react when his other hand unclips your bra and pulls up your shirt.

You fail to breathe, glossy eyes staring into his unbothered face in sheer disbelief. Did that man just expose your whole chest within the blink of a second?

“Why are you actin’ all shy, huh? Those are some nice tits”, he speaks out with a sly grin.

“I…”

You are lost at words, lost at thoughts, lost at sight. This man is walking sex himself. Damn, he could probably pull any girl on this planet. But no, he decided to get into your apartment and he just said that…Your breasts look good?

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting all day for that”, he signs.

His usual so rough fingers cup your breasts gently, swallow them whole with ease. Toji’s eyes are completely fixated on the sensation between his fingertips, how your warm flesh feels against his palms.

“I thought you…you aren’t into…small boobs”, you moan, closing your embarrassed eyes to shield yourself from his intense stare.

“I’m a man of culture”, he comments.

Oh, you can tell he’s grinning like he always does. Slowly but surely everything seems to fade away. All the dumb comments about your body, all the times you looked into the mirror and blankly stared at your flat chest. No, everything that counts now is that the force of a man standing in front of you clearly enjoys your sight, that your boobs alone are enough bring a grown man onto his knees, to make him whimper against your heated skin and the bulge in his pants grow with every second.

“Fuck, I need ya”, he hisses.

Toji pully your top over your head before you’re even able to think straight. There he stands, his hand unzipping his pants in slow motion while you gaze up at him panting like a dog.

“I’ll show you how much I’m into you, babe…”

Gojo Satoru

You look yourself up and down in the mirror, mind raising. It’s your third date with none other than the Satoru Gojo. The men who turns women’s heads on a regular basis, the men who invited you into the most exquisite restaurant of the city, the man who even sent you a dress for the occasion. A jaw-dropping gorgeous black dress with a delicate waterfall neckline, just the right fit for a man like him.

But not with your flat chest. The fabric seems to hang on your body like a potato sack, filled by nothing but thin air. And because of the cursed deep back, you aren’t even able to wear a push up bra underneath. Fuck, what are you supposed to do? The more you stare at yourself in the mirror, the worse it seems to fit. Satoru chose this dress only for you. There’s absolutely no way in hell you’ll wear something else, that you disappoint him like that. But do you have another option?

You let yourself fall onto your bed, eyes darting to your phone. Shit, you have only 10 more minutes left before he gets her. How are you supposed to fix this? Will Satoru be disappointed? You never wore tight or unflattering clothes around him before, always hid your smaller chest well behind casual sweatshirts or push up bras. But this…You aren’t able to hide anything in this.

Will be there in 5. Can’t wait to see you in that dress <3

Oh god, you feel like throwing up when reading his message. Everything went so well between the both of you, so unproblematic and genuinely fine. But are you even good enough for Satoru Gojo when he’s surrounded by so many beautiful women? Your hands wander up your stomach, come to a stand on your chest. No, you definitely can’t keep up with Mei Mei and the others. Will he lose interest in you after tonight? Will his facial expression drop the second he lays eyes on you in that dress?

Your palms get sweaty, mind overwhelmed by all those venomous thoughts.

“Fuck, don’t cry”, you hiss to yourself, angrily blinking into the mirror.

The doorbell rings.

Your heart drops.

Shit.

Didn’t he say 10 minutes?

Your feet carry you to your front door automatically, the tall frame of none other than Satoru clearly visible outside. No, why is he here? You didn’t have enough time to think about a solution, didn’t even try on that sticky bra you’ve bought a few months ago-

He rings again. There is no way of out this now. Like in slow motion, your shaky hand presses down the door handle, exposes yourself further and further to Satoru.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, (y/n)”, Satoru comments jokingly.

Hot tears slowly but surely start to take your sight while you stand there like an idiot, covering your chest with your arms. This will be the moment Satoru realizes you aren’t playing in his league, that he can do so much better. What was he thinking anyway, starting to date a girl like you?

“You look absolutely hot in that dress. Oh my god…”, he breathes out.

“Don’t lie to me”, you mumble.

No, you can’t take it. With a swift motion you turn yourself away from his gaze, away from his presence.

“What? I would never lie to you! Hey, are you cryin’? (y/n), look at me.”

Gently, he cups your face with both of his hands, forces you to get lost in the blue ocean of his eyes.

“I’m not doing justice to the dress you’ve gifted me”, you breathe out.

Satoru has to blink a few times, mind trying to process what the hell you are talking about. The minute you opened the door earlier, he was lost. You looked exactly how he imagined, so well-fitted into that black dress, your curves so delicious that it takes all his strength to keep his composure.

“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen and I’m serious about that. Why would you think something so ridiculous? Look at your-“

“I’m flat”, you finally snap.

“Flat?”, he repeats in disbelief.

“Flat like a pancake. Flat like a board. I…I have nothing!”, you blurt out.

Satoru can’t believe his ears, has to stare at you in sheer disbelief for a moment. Is this why you’re crying, why you’re crossing your arms in front of your chest like that? Because you think that…your breasts are too small?

“C’mon, you can’t be serious about that.”

He desperately waits for a reaction, for a cute little giggle coming out of your mouth and this being nothing but a prank. But instead, you just stand there in silence and hide yourself even more.

“Okay, let me get that straight: You.Look.Gorgeous. I can’t stop fucking looking at you, that dress fits you so well and when I saw that neckline for the first time…I’m only saying this before you force me to, okay? I’m thirsting over you like a teenager, (y/n)! And I adore every inch of your body, I adore the way your tits look.”

“Stop”, you mumble, his words making shivers run down your spine.

“I won’t stop until you say it.”

“Say what?”, you question, confusion written on your face.

“Repeat after me: I have nice tits.”

Is he serious? You drop your arms to the side, completely bamboozled by the Satoru Gojo in front of you.

“Let’s do it, (y/n)!”

“I have…nice tits”, you breathe out.

“I can’t hear you”, he shouts.

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you a little. What the hell is going on right now? His smile seems contagious, makes the corners of your mouth turn upwards just the slightest bit.

“I have small tits”, you giggle out.

“NO!”, he screams.

“I have nice tits!”

“I have nice tits”, you shout back.

“Yes, now…Can I touch them?”

“Let’s get going, okay?”, you mutter, head red like a tomato.

Choso Kamo

“What are you doing, (y/n)?”

A high shriek escapes your lips when you look at Choso standing in the door. Fuck, what the hell is this guy doing here while you tried on that bikini you’ve bought earlier?

“Oh, that looks good”, he comments and nods towards your chest.

God, you feel like fainting. Out of all people, why does it have to be Choso standing there? And why do you feel so damn insecure all of the sudden? It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you have a huge crush on Yuji’s bigger brother, that you can’t take your eyes off him. And while you feel pretty comfortable in your own skin, there is this one thing that makes you trip over and over again…

Your breasts.

You didn’t even notice until your female friends began to comment on the size of your boobs when you changed for sport lessons.

“You look like a child, (y/n)!”

“Omg, are you sure that’s normal?”

“You’re a board with nipples…”

“I’m so sorry for you, (y/n)! After all, all boys are into big tits these days! Well, at least you have a good character.”

And still, you didn’t even care that much. But now, with Choso Kamo standing in front of you while you wear nothing but a bikini top instead of your oversized uniform, you feel trapped.

“Well, thanks I guess”, you mumble, cheeks heating up in an instant.

He steps a little closer, eyes narrowed. Oh god, when is this finally over?

“Why are you looking so uncomfortable?”

“Well, maybe because I’m half naked-“

“I can tell it’s not because of that. Are you insecure?”

Fuck, this man reads you like an open book without mercy. For an incarnated curse, he’s way too emphatic.

“I wouldn’t say it like that but…I mean, look at me.”

“Is it because your breasts are smaller than those of the other female members of Jujutsu High? This doesn’t seem like an issue to me at all, (y/n). After all, breasts are mostly made of adipose tissue. Depending on your fat storage and how your body-“

“Oh god, please stop right now”, you interrupt him.

May the ground swallow you whole and keep you. How on earth did you get into a serious talk about your small chest with none other than Choso Kamo? And why does he know all those things about how women’s breast work?

“You seem to know quite a lot about women’s boobs. Did you study them or something?”

Why does your heart suddenly feel so heavy? It shouldn’t bother you that he talked about those things as if he looks at other women’s tits on a regular basis. But…You fell for him because he seemed like a guy who doesn’t care about those things. Were you mistaken about him?

“Not at all! But I overheard you talking to that other woman about the size of your breast and that you don’t feel comfortable about them, so I did research about this topic.”

Oh. Your heart stops beating for a second, your mind going blank. He did research because he overheard your conversation with Shoko?

“You did that…for me?”

“You’re important to me and I don’t want you to feel sad about something minor like this, (y/n).”

You stare at him like an idiot, still only covered only by a bikini top while all he does his holding your gaze in silence.

“What I want to say is that…You are absolutely beautiful. And so are your breasts-”

“Okay, this is getting a little out of hand. Would you mind if I…Change into something a little more modest?”, you interrupt him before you lose your composure completely.

“Of course!”

Choso doesn’t move. Instead, he just stands there like before and looks at you.

“Would you…Get out so I can change?”

“Oh…Yes, of course.”

Nanami Kento

You can’t help but stare at him through the dim moonlight, hands wrapped around his neck. Oh, he sure feels good pressed against your body so tenderly, his breath caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Kento and you have been together for a few months now, taking things slow since your last relationship was like a trip to hell and back. And even though you are fully aware of the fact that Kento would never treat you badly, you still need time for certain things.

And these certain things contain him seeing you naked. Just one glance into the mirror is hard to bear, especially when it comes to your small chest. You simply hate the way they look, how they ruin every single outfit, how they make you look like a child. No matter what gorgeous gown you’re wearing, you never feel like a woman, like someone worth to be looked at. But still, Kento caresses every curve of your still dressed body carefully.

“You look absolutely stunning in moonlight, darling”, he hushes against your ear.

You love this man with all your heart. How he treats you with way more kindness than a single human would ever deserve, how he makes you feel good about yourself without even knowing. Kento Nanami picks up the pieces of your past and puts you back together like a complicated puzzle. Slowly and steady, step by step.

A whimper escapes your lips, the sensation of his fingertips brushing against your covered skin simply drives you insane. Oh, how much you adore that man, how much you admire him for making you feel so alive. Suddenly his plain touch doesn’t feel like enough anymore. You need him even closer, want to feel him even better.

“Please, take this off”, you mumble against his lips.

Kento stops in his tracks for a second, eyes staring at you intensively in your dark bedroom.

“Are you sure? I told you I can wait”, he reminds you gently while pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Are you sure? You didn’t let a man touch you after your ex, after all those nasty things he said about your body. Especially your small chest.

“Don’t you wanna get these things…y’know, fixed or something?”

“Leave your shirt on or I’ll turn off the light, these things turn me off...”

You hate how his stupid comments still haunt you even after all those years, despite the fact that you’re laying in the arms of none other than the epitome of a gentleman. Until today, you never allowed your boyfriend to take off your shirt, to even take a single glance in the direction of your exposed chest. But today feels different. With his eyes filled with nothing but affection, you finally feel ready.

“I don’t want you to wait. Please, take off my shirt”, you whisper into the night.

“Tell me to stop when you feel uncomfortable.”

You nod slightly, too occupied by the way his hands carefully wander down to the hem of your shirt, eyes fixated on yours. Your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Out of excitement, out of fear? You glance into his gleaming orbs that are filled with nothing but love. No, you don’t have to fear this man. But still…Will he like what he sees?

“You know I don’t have…I don’t have nice boobs. They are quite small…”, you suddenly blurt out.

“(y/n), you are the love of my life, my precious girlfriend. Every fiber of your being is way more than ‘nice’. I adore every inch of your gorgeous body”, he replies so softly that you feel like tearing up.

As if in slow motion he pulls up your shirt, reveals inch by inch of your naked skin until he pulls the fabric over your head.

You take a deep breath, try to read his face in the dim light. Is he disgusted, does he even look at you? Maybe he’s regretting his decision, maybe he finds you just as ugly as your ex did-

“You are so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off you”, he hushes.

Kento Nanami stops your train of thoughts before you get lost in yourself, quiets the stinging voice of your ex-boyfriend inside your head.

Kento thinks you’re beautiful. Kento’s hand caresses your naked skin, gently cups your breast while he never fails to gaze at you.

“I love you, (y/n). In fact, I am the one lucky to have you. Thank you for putting your trust and love in me.”

“You…I love you so much, Kento.”

You can’t contain yourself any longer. Without hesitation, you pull your boyfriend’s face even closer, press your desperate lips against his. What a treasure he is, lifting you up without even realizing how much his words heal your soul.

If a man like Kento Nanami is able to love your small breasts than maybe, just maybe, you’ll start doing that as well.

Ryomen Sukuna

“There’s no way in hell”, you press out, groaning in scorching pain.

“Do you have a death wish or are you just dumb, woman? You know you’ll die if you don’t take off that uniform, right?”, Sukuna remarks dryly.

“I would rather die than taking off my shirt in front of…you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Sukuna can’t help but stare at you in sheer disbelief. Surprisingly enough, he decided to save your ass instead of using his time more efficiently. And now you’re laying in front of him, a gaping hole inside your chest, he offered to save your life.

And you, dumbass of the century, refuse to get saved by none other than the king of curses himself.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really wish to die so badly?”

“I…I don’t want to die!”, you blurt out.

Fuck, how did you get yourself into that situation? Bad enough that you’ve got hit by that curse right into your chest, even worse that the king of curses himself appeared and wants to help you. But the worst thing is that you need to take your shirt off.

It is ridiculous and you know it. This is not the time to be insecure about your small tits. No, this is absolutely not the time to even think about shit like that. But the sheer thought of Ryomen Sukuna seeing your flat chest alone makes you rather die than letting that happen. No, the last thing you want is him making fun of you.

“Then why are you acting like a child? Hold still. You strange human, I should kill you right on the spot. Good for you I still have use for someone this skilled. You impressed me earlier.”

Under normal conditions, you’d feel some kind of pride over his words. But with death whispering in your ear and the stinging fact that his hands begin to bottom up your shirt….

You freak out.

“GET YOURSELF AWAY FROM ME!”, you scream pathetically, hands fighting so poorly against his that he catches your flying fists mid-air.

“Stop beating me before I’m losing it, brat”, he barks at you.

Just one more button. One more button and you’ll be completely exposed to him. The king of curses, seeing your small boobs.

“DON’T LOOK AT MY BOOBS!”

“What?”

He can’t believe his ears. This can’t be the reason why you pull up this fight. No, there’s absolutely no way in hell you’re acting like this because you’re ashamed of him seeing your breasts.

“Please…Don’t look at my boobs…”

The king of curses just stares at you emotionless.

“Who do you think you are to tell me what to do, woman?”

His gaze wanders right down to your bloody chest. You are rather flat chested, but oh you look delicious. Too delicious to take his eyes off you, too delicious to think about saving you. He never hunted after women, was never interested in all those big-chested females with their neck-line hanging to the ground. But you…This looks pleasant.

“Delightful”, he finally speaks out.

Too late for you to hear before your hand smacks roughly into his face.

“I SAID DON’T LOOK!”

“I SAID YOU LOOK DELIGHTFUL YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

“YOU…You what?”

Geto Suguru

Geto can’t help but stare at you, how your hips swing from side to side, how you wear your cute summer dress so easily. Not only the scorching heat of this summer day, but your sight as well make him feel light-headed.

“Staring again, Suguru?”, his best friend teases him in an instant.

“How could I not stare at her. She looks gorgeous in that dress”, he replies, not able to take his eyes off you.

“But she has no tits.”

You wish you didn’t hear those words leaving Satoru’s mouth, wish you could just giggle like a little girl and let your heart beat out of your chest because Suguru said you look gorgeous. But the second the meaning of his saying hits you, you stop in your tracks.

The stinging fact that your breasts are smaller than those of any other women at Jujutsu High and all those popular girls was always hard to bear for you. But with Suguru by your side, with his words sweeter than honey, you slowly but surely began to feel comfortable in your own skin again. Instead of oversized shirts, you started to wear dresses from time to time, bought the one you’re wearing right now with a slight neckline.

All that, only for your confidence to get crushed by that single comment.

You can’t contain yourself anymore. Without even trying to pretend you didn’t hear his venomous words, you turn on your heel and sprint down in the direction of your dorm. How stupid it was to even consider that a man like Suguru would actually like you back. After all, Satoru is his best friend, it’s clear that you look nothing like the girls they usually hang out with. Maybe your small chest isn’t enough for him…

Tears take your sight completely as you run straight to your room.

“(y/n), wait!”

No, not him. Not right now. Your heart almost drops to the floor when you hear his footsteps close behind you. If Suguru tries to cheer you up right now, you might break down completely.

“Hey, please wait for me.”

Gently, he grabs your wrist and spins you around.

“Let go of me”, you hiss, yanking your arm away out of instinct.

You don’t want to get touched by him, to even see him. God, you were really stupid enough to think that this man with the most tender eyes you’ve ever seen would actually like you back.

“Satoru fucked up with that comment. Hey, look at me. I know he made these comments before and I know you’ve had a hard time because of those stupid comments at school. But I’m here to tell you that I love you just the way you are, (y/n) …God, I love you with all my heart, I love you wearing those dresses, I love the way you move, I love the way you look. And it might sound totally weird, but I love your boobs. I’m…I’m obsessed with you.”

You have to blink a few times, try to process what just happened. Within a few minutes, you’ve heard your crush complimenting you, his friend insulting you for having small breasts and now Suguru is standing in front of you again, confessing his love for you and…your boobs?

“You don’t have to say those things to make me feel better”, you try to brush him off.

“I’m saying this because I mean it, (y/n). And I’ll kick his ass for saying something so stupid about you. When it comes to women, Satoru and I are the opposite of each other”, he explains briefly.

Oh, you are fully aware of the fact that Satoru Gojo hunts after every woman with cups bigger than your head. But something about the way Suguru stands in front of you, how his eyes literally beg you to believe him…

“I have enough of people judging me for something I can’t change”, you warn him.

“I don’t want to change a single hair on your body, (y/n).”

Slowly but surely, your eyes stop to burn in agony, your heart stops to ache, your body wakes up from its trance.

“So…you’re into small chested girls? Why am I supposed to believe this?”

Without wasting another minute Suguru steps forward, engulfs your body. And with one last glance into your widen eyes, he presses his lips against you’re the way he always imagined it.

“Is this proof enough?”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings@sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly   @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @yukiotacon @satoreo

Gorgeous divider by @saradika 🤍

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #choso jjk #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #nanami fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #kento

[widowbitessting]

Bedtime? What Bedtime? A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Prompt: Reader/baby reacting to getting a bedtime after not resting enough in one of her exam periods.

Word Count: 908

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom! Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

“A bedtime?” You say, eyes nearly bulging from your head. “What am I? 4?” 

“The way you’re acting right now, yes, yes, you are.” Natasha replies. 

“I am not going - no! No way! That’s ridiculous! Wanda, back me up here!” 

The older woman just shakes her head and holds her hands up in a mock surrender. 

“Normally I would, but this time I actually side with Carol and Natasha; baby girl.”

You glower at her. How could she? 

“I am not having a bedtime.”

“How much sleep did you get last night, detka?” Natasha asks. You open your mouth to reply, a cocky response on the tip of your tongue, your inner brat riling up, ready to swing; but when the red head raises her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, your brat vanishes in a puff of pathetic smoke. 

“I - why is that important?” 

“Because your dom is asking you, that’s why.” She replies. “Now answer the question.” 

“...I don’t see why I have to…” 

“5.” 

“What?” You stare at Wanda. 

“4.

“What is she doing? Why is she counting?” 

“3.” 

“...Wanda…” 

“2.” 

“Answer Natasha’s question, Y/N. Your final warning before things get ugly.” Wanda says, her glare fixed just on you.

“I don’t know…I finally…I…crashed around 3…maybe 4am?” 

“When did you wake up?” Wanda asks, stepping towards you. You automatically try to step back but Carol is there behind you, blocking your body from any chance of escape. 

“7…”

“That had better be PM babygirl.” Carol whispers into your ear. 

“A-AM…” 

“So last night, you’re telling me, you slept for 3 hours?!” Natasha shouts, she really doesn’t mean to, but she knows for sure people at the local Starbucks heard her.

“Maybe? I mean…it was like a nap…”

“Not helping your case there, bunny.” Carol murumers. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think that through.” You try to move from around Carol’s body but her grasp tightens around your wrists and she doesn’t let you budge.

“Oh no, sugar.” She smirks. “You’re not getting away that easily.” 

“What are we going to do with you?” Natasha sighs. 

“Oh I know perfectly well what to do with her,” Wanda glares at you, causing you to let out a pathetic sound and burrow into Carol.

“Save me and I’ll do your chores for a month, Danvers.”

The blonde cackles, momentarily letting you go, and you take your chance. Making a dive for freedom that is short lived. Carol snatches you back up and holds you in a hold so tight that no amount of wiggling will set you free.

“Nice try, baby, but you aren’t going to bribe me that easily. Now be good, accept your punishment like a good little brat.”

“But -” 

“No buts, unless it’s yours.” Carol says. 

Your grin slides off your face when you make eye contact with Wanda. 

“Now, whilst we discuss your brand new and very permanent bedtime, you may go to your corner and kneel, and think about the apology letters that you will be writing to each of us.” 

“Each?!” 

“With no complaints.” Her tone is firm and you really have to fight the urge to roll your eyes at her. Instead, you just gape at all of them.

“I - what…?” 

“Off you go, sweetness. The grownups have some stuff to discuss.” Wanda tells you, squishing your cheeks as you pass her. “You know what to do and what position we like. I’ll come and tap your shoulder when you’re done; understood?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers squeeze just a little harder.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, mommy.” 

“Good. Off you go.” 

That night, at 9:55pm, you’re lying in bed with Wanda as she reads to you another chapter from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. You lie there, facing her, head cradled against her chest as she reads some of the dialect from Albus Dumbledore and you can’t help but shake the exhausted feeling in your body. Your eyes are heavy, burning with sleep and you fight with them to stay open. It’s when you yawn, do you catch Wanda’s attention and she leans down to kiss your temple.

“Sleep, detka. Don’t fight it. We will all be here in the morning when you wake up.”

“But -” 

“- and you can finish your work too, with breakfast if you’d like.”

“No…I wanna know what happens in the book.”

Wanda giggles, and looks down at you with adoration.

“How many times have you read these, baby?” she asks.

“...couple…”

“And yet you want to know what happens?” 

“Just call me Dory.” 

That earns you another laugh and this time, a peck on the lips.

“How about this, if you fall asleep, I stop reading immediately and we can continue on during breakfast. Does that sound okay?” 

“...I’d like that.” You yawn again.

“Good girl,” she says. “Now shut those beautiful eyes for me.”

You do as you’re told.

“And don’t forget, bedtime is at 10pm, yes?”

“Mhm.” 

“One day it might even be 10:30. But for now, 10pm works just fine I think. Don’t you think so?” 

She’s baiting you. But you’re far too exhausted to bite. So you just sleepily agree and vow to fight her on bed time tomorrow, when you’re fully refreshed. 

It’s a very good plan. Foolproof some might say. 

You fall asleep as Wanda reaches the end of the chapter and dream of nothing.

Smiling when Wanda tucks you in and settles down for the night also. 

One word on your mind: bliss. 

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #sugar mommies!asks #spiderbites #smu #sugar mommies drabble

[staytheword]

caramel popcorn

caramel popcorn — one shot [ general masterlist ]

this one shot (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• felix x female reader; changbin x female reader (not the focus).

• non idol au. friends with benefits. roommates (changbin and felix). pining. drinking. there's a party. explicit language. mention of slumps/depression. explicit sexual content. not beta read.

•  smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — slightly perv felix (he a simp). voyeurism. voice kink. masturbation (alone and together). mentions of a possible threesome. oral sex (f receiving). fingering. protected sex, cumplay if you squint.

• word count: 11.5k

You are Changbin's fuck buddy. You two are just friends, but you are still something. Felix shouldn't have a crush on you. He still does.

Felix comes home earlier than usual. 

Work is slow today, and he’s feeling out of it, so he just decides to close his computer and walk home. It’s not like he will be missed, and he can catch up on his hours during the rest of the week. For now, he can’t focus, feeling a little blue, unable to find the motivation to keep going. It’s not that he’s losing interest in what he does – it’s not specific to his job. He’s just been feeling disconnected with reality, like he’s too used to the things around him. Everything feels… automatic. Mechanical. 

He needs change. He needs something to snap him out of the redundancy, a hook to get caught upon, a thought to keep him up at night. 

You come into his life at the right time. 

He pushes the code on the handle to unlock the door, his tie already pulled loose around his collar, his hair ruffled by the wind of the subway. His briefcase hangs on his hand, feeling heavier than usual, and he opens the door with a slight shove, letting it close behind him. He takes off his shoes, throws his briefcase on the couch and starts to shrug off his jacket when he hears a noise coming from inside the apartment. 

Changbin isn’t usually home at this time of the day, either. Or is it one of his days off? Felix isn’t sure. Days have been merging into each other, each of them feeling exactly like the one before. His roommate and best friend has been trying to snap him out of it, dragging him to parties or other activities, attempting to reactivate his creativity, the spark in his eyes. Felix appreciates his effort – Changbin is a good friend, always has been. It’s not his fault Felix can’t make it out of the fog. It really isn’t. In fact, if Changbin wasn’t there, Felix is sure it would be much worse. He would truly come apart if it wasn’t for those movie and pizza nights, for Changbin singing in the shower, for their video game tournaments, for their trips to the gym twice a week. 

Felix slowly finishes taking off his jacket, listening intently. For a few seconds he doesn’t hear anything and wonders if he imagined it, but then there’s the definitive sound of a voice coming from the hallway. It sounds like Changbin, although it’s a little muffled. Felix moves quietly, takes a few steps inside the living room and towards the hallway, and is about to call his roommate’s name when he hears another voice. 

This one is definitely not Changbin, and is irrevocably a moan of pleasure. Felix stops in his tracks, feeling the blush rise to his cheeks. The voice moans again, Changbin’s name this time, and Felix does not know what to do. Changbin is clearly… busy. Should he leave? Should he make enough noise so that whoever is in there with Changbin hears him? 

Who is the girl in Changbin’s room?

Who are you?  

As always, Felix’s curiosity gets the best of him. 

He tiptoes around the corner of the hallway and takes a peek. The door to Changbin’s room is ajar. Where he’s standing, Felix can only see a little of it, a part of the bed, on which two naked bodies are moving together. He recognizes Changbin’s dark hair and muscular arm, which is pinning down someone’s hand on the mattress.

Felix doesn’t see you well. Hints of your hair, of your profile, of the shape of your neck and collarbone. Changbin hides you, which is a good thing – he wouldn’t dare look if he wasn’t. However, he can hear you clearly, breathing heavily, whimpering against Changbin’s mouth, moaning in his neck. He can hear the sound of Changbin’s thrusts into you, the skin smacking, the bed squeaking. 

Changbin is fucking you hard.

Felix definitely isn’t supposed to be seeing this. You haven’t heard him come in, because you are completely unbothered, fucking like there’s no one around to hear or see you. Felix’s cheeks are bright red, mouth parted in slight fascination, unable to look away although he really should. 

Of course he is aware that Changbin has a sex life, an active one at that. They are both open about it, never crass but always honest. So it’s not a surprise that Changbin is with someone, it’s just rare that he brings his guest to their shared apartment, and it’s certainly the first time Felix is walking in on him. He should definitely leave, come back in an hour or two, when Changbin’s hopefully done and there is no chance of being caught like a pervert. 

But there’s something so fascinating about you, and Felix can’t bring himself to move. It’s in the way you breathe, panting, slightly trembling. It’s in your voice, in your whispers and your pleas. Changbin growls in your ear, muttering things that Felix can’t quite catch, but it seems to be working because you dig your fingers in his arm and his hair. Felix can hear your words getting tangled. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Changbin says.

That Felix hears perfectly well, and the way you nod feverishly sends a rush of blood to his cock. His hand grabs his crotch and he realizes he’s hard. His fingers press his length, already uncomfortable in his pants, and Felix closes his eyes, shaking his head. What’s his problem? Getting a boner from watching his best friend fuck someone? True, he hasn’t gotten laid in a while now, but it’s no excuse. This is wrong. Isn’t it?

He turns away, pushes his back against the wall, closes his eyes.

“Fuck, Changbin, I’m – please –”

Your voice sounds so beautiful, so pleading, so raw. It rattles a little, lost between your unsteady breaths, and Felix can hear Changbin accelerate his thrusts. The bed slams against the wall as he pounds into you, and your words turn into whimpers. 

You keep repeating his name, ask him not to stop, and Felix is stroking his cock almost instinctively above his pants. He can’t stop listening, hypnotized. He just wants to take out his cock and jerk it off so he can come at the same time as you. At this point he’s not even being careful at being caught. He wants to hear you. 

Fuck, he should move.

Fuck, he should stop. 

Fuck, he can’t. 

Felix closes his eyes and lets your voice fill his ears. You inhale sharply, you breathe out a moan, you hiss words he can’t comprehend. As you come, Felix squeezes his cock, feeling it twitch under his hand, but he delights too much in the sound to think about his own pleasure. How do you sound so good? So lovely, so vulnerable, so strong? He could drown in the melody. 

The apartment falls quiet for a second. Felix breathes out discreetly as he hears whispers coming from the room, and then muffled chuckles. You say something to Changbin - his name, and something else. There’s the swishing sounds of sheets. Are you changing positions? Are you straddling Changbin, taking his cock deep inside of you again, or are you maybe taking him in your mouth? 

Felix blinks. What the fuck is he doing? He stares down at his crotch, and the fingers he has sprawled around his length. This isn’t right. He quickly removes his hand, shakes his head. He needs to go before you or Changbin find him listening in. 

Oh, but how lovely you sound. 

“Am I doing good, Binnie?” 

“You’re doing so good. You take my cock so well.”

“Fuck, that’s so deep…” 

Felix turns away and quietly walks back towards the door. He needs some air. He grabs his jacket, slips it back on, and heads outside.

The bitter spring air helps. Felix takes a long walk, hands buried in his pockets, his earphones blasting music. It’s loud enough to mute his thoughts and the memory of your voice. He’s sure he hasn’t met you before. He would remember that voice. Who are you, then? A coworker? The friend of a friend? Someone Changbin met on a dating app? He desperately wants to know. He might never will, and it will drive him crazy. He’ll just ask Changbin. He’ll find a way to get your name, at least. 

Felix stops by the grocery store on his way back home, buys a few things, and then heads back to the apartment building. By now you and Changbin must be done. You might have already left, even. He stops in front of the door, slides a hand through his blonde hair, reminds himself he needs to get a haircut, and enters the apartment. 

He freezes in the doorway, holding the door half open, and stares at you. 

You’re sitting on the couch, bundled up in one of Changbin’s hoodies, watching something on the television. Your hair is messy, your eyes bright, your legs covered by a blanket. You look up at him, a little surprised, but you quickly smile, a smile that takes up half of your face, that illuminates your traits, that almost blinds him.

Felix feels his legs tremble. You’re so beautiful. 

“Hi!” you say. “You must be Felix.” 

“Y-yeah…” he stammers, closing the door behind him. 

That’s when Changbin appears, coming in from the kitchen, carrying two beers. He’s wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts, his curls a tangled mess. 

“Hey, Lix. Home already?” 

Felix takes off his shoes and clears his throat. “Yeah, finished early.” 

“Good for you,” Changbin smiles, handing you one of the beers. He extends the other one towards Felix, who takes it. “Want to join us? We were going to play something. This is Y/N, by the way. We work together.” 

“Oh, right,” Felix nods as Changbin goes back to the kitchen, probably to get himself another beer. 

So he has heard about you. The new girl at Changbin’s workplace who he had his eye on. The situation was a bit tricky because Changbin is a manager and you are an employee, but Felix guesses you found a way to make it work, or you decided not to care. Felix remembers Changbin talking about you, the words he used. Sweet. Determined. Captivating. 

Watching you now, he understands what Changbin meant. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Same, actually,” Felix says, taking a sip from the beer. 

“Really? What did Changbin say about me?” 

Felix blushes a little, stuttering. “Oh. You know. That you were cute, that he liked you.” 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s sweet.” 

Felix smiles, feeling a little awkward. He can’t help but think about what he heard. Your voice breaking in pieces through your pleasure. Changbin’s hips slamming into yours. 

The way you’re looking at him now doesn’t help. There’s something in your eyes, like you want to say something, but you don’t. You have such a direct gaze, such a dazzling smile. You sounded so lovely moaning Changbin’s name, begging him to fuck you deeper. Felix clears his throat. 

“I’m gonna go change,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” 

He gives you one last nod and heads to the kitchen. Changbin is still there, checking something on his phone. He looks up at Felix. 

“You all right?” Changbin frowns. “You look a little pale.” 

“Just tired,” Felix explains, putting away the food he bought in the fridge. 

“Good you came home, then. Are you ok with Y/N being here? I can tell her to go if you want some quiet.” 

Felix shakes his head. “I don’t mind. She’s nice.” 

Changbin grins, twirling the can of beer in his hand. “She’s something else, Lix. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“I’m happy for you, mate.” 

They exchange a quick hug, and as Changbin goes back to the living room, his booming voice echoing through the apartment, Felix heads to his room. He closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh. 

This can’t be complicated. You and Changbin are clearly a thing, so Felix cannot see you in that way. He slams his hand on his forehead, cursing himself. He shouldn’t have stayed to listen to you. He should’ve turned around the second he understood what the sounds you were making were. Now he can’t get your voice out of his head. And it doesn’t help that you are in his living room right now, looking this damn attractive. 

Felix takes off his clothes, slips on a t-shirt and grabs a pair of sweatpants. He hears you laugh from the living room. It sounds like you’re arguing about something, crying out Changbin’s name. It sounds nothing like earlier, but it still reminds him of it. 

His cock twitches, and Felix curses himself. Maybe if he relieves himself, it will help. It will take you off his mind and he can enjoy his night. He can take a few minutes to do that, no one will suspect it. Then he can take a shower and move on. Deciding it is his best option, Felix lays down on his bed, propped up on his pillows, and takes out his cock from his boxers. It is already getting hard again from the thought of you, and he tugs at it slowly, closing his eyes. Maybe he can even try not to think about you - but as his cock hardens, as his fingers slide around his girth, you’re all that is on his mind. 

What if it was his name you moaned? His cock that took you deep, that you begged to feel more of? Your voice in his ear, your moans in his neck? Felix swallows with difficulty, his tip leaking with pre-cum, already losing himself in his fantasy. Those eyes of yours as he would pound into you, hammering your warm, drenched cunt with all his might just so he can hear you louder and louder. Your moans becoming whimpers, your breath hitching in your throat, those lovely notes escaping your lips just for him. 

Just for him. 

He doesn’t even know you. But the thought of you crying out his name is enough to push him over the edge. Felix bucks his hips into the air, imagining it is you, bites his lip hard enough to draw blood so he doesn’t make a sound. Your voice echoes in the apartment as you laugh and complain to Changbin, and it is such a delightful sound Felix can’t help but come. His cock throbs in his hand, spurting whiteness, covering his stomach. 

He holds himself for minutes like that, trying to steady his breathing. Fuck. He hasn’t come this hard masturbating in a long time. And you did that to him. 

After a while, Felix stands up on shaky legs and heads towards the shower. He quickly washes, relieved at the feeling of the hot water on his body. Once he’s dressed again, ready to join you and Changbin in the living room, his mind actually feels clear. He was probably just horny. He hasn’t gotten laid in months and it shows. He ought to follow Changbin’s advice and find someone, even just for one night. 

“Welcome back,” Changbin tells him when he enters the room. 

Felix confidently sits next to you on the couch, grabbing the third controller to join the next game. The beer is good, the company is fun. He laughs, feels relaxed. You’re funny, not at all a sore loser, with a bright personality and a quick mind. 

Your hair smells good. 

You’re very tactile. 

Felix feels fine, even when you touch his arm, even when your thigh brushes his. It seems like he really just needed to jerk off. 

After playing for a while, you all start talking, exchanging anecdotes and having debates over silly things. He likes you and the way you think. You bond about your love for freshly washed sheets and caramel popcorn. 

When Felix feels his stomach rumble, he stretches on the couch.  “Are you guys hungry? I can make curry -” 

“Oh shit,” you say suddenly, eyes widening. “What time is it?” 

You reach out for your phone and let out a gasp.

“Shit, fuck! I’m so late. I’m supposed to get dinner with my brother…” 

You let out a laugh and glance at Felix. 

“Rain check?” 

Your eyes are the prettiest he has ever seen. Wide, full of light. Felix feels his heart stutter, nods nervously. You stand up in a hurry, and he realizes that all this time, you haven’t been wearing pants. The hoodie is big enough to fall to the middle of your thighs, but it still reveals your legs to him. Smooth skin. Thighs one could dig their fingers into. Felix feels his mouth water a little. 

Changbin is laughing. 

“She’s a mess,” he says affectionately, shaking his head. “I’d love some curry, though.” 

Felix blinks at his friend. “Right. On it.” 

You reappear a few seconds later, now wearing a pair of jeans, slipping a sweater over your head and putting on your shoes. 

“I’ll see you guys around! Thanks for the beer!” 

“Check the two sides of the road before you cross,” Changbin warns with a smirk. 

You pull your tongue at him and disappear through the door. The apartment falls silent. Felix glances at Changbin, who is shaking his head. 

“Didn’t I tell you, Lix? Something else.” 

Despite everything, Felix can’t help but smile. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing his friend happy, whatever his mood, whatever is in his heart. Changbin’s smile is always enough to soothe him, to push away any cloud, to clear his skies. 

The roommates stand up from the couch, gather the empty beers and head to the kitchen. Their apartment is not very big, because neither of them could afford a big place in this city, but it’s more than enough for them. They have been living together for years, and have known each other for much longer, so they know exactly how to make it work. The boundaries. The signs. Everything. 

Felix gets started on the food and Changbin puts on some music. 

“How did it happen, then?” he asks Changbin, who has started cutting carrots. “Spill it.” 

Changbin smirks, keeping his eyes on the carrots. “So. Last night, right? Both of us finished late. The last people in the office. We’re complaining about being tired, about not having time to do anything, to meet anyone.” 

Felix stirs the chicken broth in the pot, nodding his head.

“Completely out of the blue,” Changbin continues, “she tells me she hasn’t gotten laid in weeks. So I tell myself, this is too good of an opportunity, and I say to her I can help. As a friend would, you know. And just like that we’re fucking in the office.” 

Changbin chuckles, and Felix stares at him in awe, trying not to let the images swarm his mind. A part of him wants to ask for details. Where in the office? A desk, a wall? What were you wearing? He chases the thoughts away. 

“So are you, like… officially going out?” 

“Not really,” Changbin frowns. “Just friends. With benefits.” 

“Oh,” Felix says. 

“Neither of us want anything more. Nothing complicated. Like, she just texted me earlier today asking if I wanted to hang out.” 

Felix takes a sip of his beer and chuckles. “So you’re her booty call?” 

Changbin raises his palms. “And happy to be.” 

That simple, huh? Felix isn’t sure how he feels. He envies Changbin, but it’s not jealousy. He’s happy for his friend, that he could find someone he connects with, someone he can have fun with. Could he find that for himself? He doesn’t know. He’s never tried.

“I’m proud of you, Lix,” Changbin says suddenly.

Felix turns to him, a little surprised. 

Changbin shrugs, smiles affectionately. “The fact that you went home earlier because you didn’t feel too good. That’s progress. Not long ago you would’ve pushed through and buried it deep. It’s good.” 

Felix nods slowly. “Thanks, Bin.” 

Changbin circles the counter to put the cut carrots next to the pot, and squeezes Felix’s shoulder. 

“We’ll get through it. I’m here for you.” 

“I know, Bin. I know.”

Felix slams his finger on his phone, repeatedly pressing the screen for his alarm to stop. When his room falls silent again, Felix leans back into his bed, groaning against his pillow. It is cold today, so he draws his comforter all the way up to his eyes, trying to keep them open. He was having a good dream. He can’t remember it, but it was good. 

You were in it.

He rolls out of bed after a few minutes and takes a quick shower to finish waking up. He puts on a shirt, a pair of black pants, and a tie. Sometimes he wishes he could go into work in casual clothes, like Changbin, but the firm’s dress code keeps him from having to think too much about his outfits. He brushes his hair although it will be tangled again the second he steps outside, and slips on his rings. 

Dragging his feet to the kitchen, Felix is surprised to find you there. You’re not dressed, wearing an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, neither of which are yours - and your hair sticks up behind your head. It shouldn’t be cute, but it is. 

“Morning,” you smile, sipping a glass of orange juice. 

“Already up?” Felix says, grabbing a banana from the fruit basket. 

He’s not used to seeing you in the morning like this although it is not the first time you spend the night. It only happens occasionally - sometimes you come over to the apartment, sometimes Changbin goes to yours. From what Felix gathers, the both of you don’t see each other that often, but still regularly enough that he has gotten used to your presence in the apartment. 

Your relationship with Changbin hasn’t changed. You are friends who, sometimes, have sex together. There are times you see each other without sleeping together, although it’s not the majority. Felix has luckily not walked in on you again, but he has given you space once or twice before, going to the movies or having a meal at a restaurant with coworkers while you were having fun. 

Felix feels himself getting out of his slump. He goes to parties, smiles less mechanically, opens himself more. Maybe he’s inspired by the way you are so unabashedly yourself, the way you laugh with your whole chest. He is fond of the conversations you two have sometimes, whether it be small talk or something deeper. 

When you are there, Felix can never stop looking at you. Whether you are snuggling up against Changbin on the couch watching a movie or telling a story as you prepare yourself some coffee, Felix can’t get enough of you. You’re fascinating to him, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you are. 

He’s given up long ago on ever being able to touch you, but at least he can watch you. He can see Changbin’s fingers grazing your skin, he can catch the lustful glances you sometimes give each other. He thinks about you when he jerks off, but he does it without hope. You’ve just become a fantasy. 

He can only think about you, about this arrangement between you and Changbin. There’s no confusion in his mind. He wants it too - but not with anyone else. He wants to fuck you. He wants you to text him so you can hang out. It can’t happen. He wants it too. 

He can’t have you. 

He has to make his peace with it. 

“I have to go into work early today,” you explain. 

Felix nods, grabbing the lunch he has prepared the previous night to put it in his bag. 

“Aren’t you eating something?” you ask him. 

“I always eat on the subway,” he says. “Old habit of mine. And then I grab coffee at work. It’s free there, so…”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you smile. “Maybe I should pester Changbin so he buys a machine for us. Sleeping with the boss should have its advantages, right?” 

Felix grins at the playful tone in your voice. “Are you coming to the party next Friday?” 

It’s something Felix and Changbin have decided to organize a few nights ago, inviting a few friends to hang out and drink a little too much. 

“I’ll be there,” you nod. 

“Great.” 

Felix closes his bag, ready to leave, although he’d like to stay with you. He always enjoys those moments of talking with you, however briefly. He really likes you. He’s definitely attracted to you. But he knows you’re not looking for anything. Besides, you already have Changbin, and for Felix, that simply means hands off, even if you guys are just friends. 

“I’ll head out. Have a good one,” he tells you, taking a second to look at you in the morning sunshine, your eyes on him, your lips looking plump and soft. 

“Wait,” you say in a breath, standing up from the stool to approach him.

Felix’s breath catches in his throat as you stop inches away from him, extending your hand towards him. You look breathtaking from up close, and Felix has to try and steady his heart. You smile, replacing the tie around his neck, making sure it is straight. Your hand lingers a little there, on his chest, and he swears he sees your eyes stop on his lips. 

“Better. Have a good day, Lix.” 

You kiss him on the cheek and he has to quickly walk away before you see him blush and smile like an idiot.

The music is loud, the conversations even more. It’s not so late yet, but people are already getting drunk and high, filling all the empty space of the apartment. There aren’t that many guests, but enough that Felix has lost you in the crowd for a while now. 

He hangs in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, drinking his third glass of Jeongin’s deadly punch. I just mixed a lot of things together, Jeongin said when Felix asked what exactly he put in there. I didn’t really know what I was doing. It’s excellent, although it’s much too sweet and will probably mess with a lot of stomachs. But it’s perfect for Felix’s sweet tooth, so he indulges a little. 

A girl called Ye-jun is standing next to him, telling him about her work, and while Felix finds that she talks a little too much, she’s still good company. She’s cute, wears a very low cut shirt and keeps batting her eyes at him. She’s into him, that much Felix can gather, and he’s been wondering for the past fifteen minutes if he should do something about it. It would be the ideal moment - a party, a busy apartment, a bit of alcohol. He could bring her into his room and finally get laid, if she is into it. Maybe it could take you off his mind. 

Because Felix has been trying to catch a glimpse of you for the better part of an hour. You’re at the party, he knows, because he saw you play beer-pong with Jisung just before he lost track of you. He hopes you’re having a good night. He wishes he could take a better look at the outfit you’re wearing, at the way you braided your hair. He put on his leather jacket that he knows you like but that he rarely wears. Did you notice? 

Felix really tried not to have too much of a crush on you, but it’s beyond him at this point. You have this way about you. You push him out of his comfort zone in the best ways.  He craves you. Your presence, your voice, your perfume. He’s also not very good at hiding his feelings, so he’s pretty sure Changbin has noticed. It doesn’t look like his friend minds it, but he didn’t ask. Changbin knows to let Felix come to him, but he also isn’t afraid of starting a conversation if Felix resists for too long. So Felix knows he will have to move his ass at some point. 

Ye-jun giggles as she starts talking about a friend of hers who is having a destination wedding, and Felix suggests they go into the living room, anxious to spot you. She follows him there and they find a spot near the couch, when he finds you sitting with Changbin. Your legs are thrown on his, Changbin’s arm pulling you close to him. You are making out, unashamedly. 

Felix loses track of what Ye-jun is telling him. He stares at your hand, resting on Changbin’s cheek, at your mouth, dancing with his friend’s. Changbin’s hand cups your ass, and you laugh against his lips, slapping his chest playfully. Changbin whispers something in your ear, and then kisses you again. 

Felix wonders how your lips feel. If your skin is warm. It weirdly doesn’t feel like intruding now, watching you with Changbin. Is it because he trusts his friend so completely, and now knows who you are? Both of you are his friends. You like each other, you have fun. Felix likes it for both of you. He doesn’t wish he were Changbin. He just wants to get a taste of you, too. The thought crosses his mind. Would Changbin agree? 

Hey, Bin. I think I really like Y/N. Would you mind sharing, just for one night?

That’s ridiculous. Changbin would never take him seriously. Would he? Felix shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality, to the party, to Ye-jun. He tears his eyes from you and Changbin, focuses on her. She has a cute nose. Long lashes. She wears lip-gloss. Does it taste like cherry, or maybe strawberries? He decides to find out. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks Ye-jun, who stops talking, looking shocked. 

Quickly, however, she smiles and nods. 

Felix leans in and kisses her, sliding an arm around her waist to pull her close. Strawberries, definitely, he realizes. He imagines it is you, although it is all wrong, although her lips are not yours, although her scent is not yours. He needs to get over his crush, and not make a fool out of himself. Find your own girl, he tells himself. 

Ye-jun is a good kisser, fortunately, and Felix lets his thoughts wander away. A part of him isn’t sure to bring her to his room if she allows it. There’s not much chemistry there - but does there need to be? Changbin would tell him to just have fun. He’ll try. For now, kissing his good. It keeps his body busy, and he can keep thinking about you.

The next day, Felix wakes up in an empty bed, but there’s still the smell of Ye-jun’s perfume in the air although she didn’t stay the night. He had a nice time with her, and he’s pretty sure that she did too. 

She’s just not you.

Felix hates himself for thinking that. Who knows, maybe you wouldn’t even be compatible in bed. Perhaps he’s not at all your type. Changbin is just your friend, but you are attracted to him and they look nothing alike. He just wishes he could hear you laugh and moan his name.

It’s already past noon, and Felix is hungry. He meets Changbin in the living room. His roommate has only been up for less than an hour, and the two of them prepare some instant ramen. They eat silently, hungover from the previous night. Eating helps, settles Felix’s stomach and washes away the worst of his headache. 

“Did you have a good time?” Changbin asks after a while, wearing a t-shirt that Felix got him for his previous birthday. “With Ye-jun?” 

Felix nods. “It was fine.” 

“Just fine?” Changbin repeats, arching an eyebrow. 

“I mean - no, it was… It was all right.” 

“I guess fine and all right is better than nothing.” 

Felix shakes his head. “She was really sweet. I guess I just… It wasn’t…” 

“Fun?” 

Felix’s shoulders drop. “Yeah.” 

Changbin nods thoughtfully, and Felix wonders if this would be the right time to talk about you. He doesn’t like not being open with his friend - they usually tell each other everything. Changbin tells him about you sometimes, how you have been feeling, what happened at work, even a few details about your sex life with him. A new position you tried, something he said to you thinking it would be attractive but ended up just being funny, and Felix is happy to listen. Not just because it’s you, but because he cares about both of you. 

“That’s why it’s nice to have sex with friends,” Changbin says. “Maybe you could try.” 

Felix sighs. “I don’t have that many friends, Bin. And even less I’d want to have sex with. I have you, I have…”

He stops himself and blushes. Changbin stares, visibly waiting. 

“I mean,” Felix mutters, “you get the point.” 

“Lix,” Changbin says in a soft voice. 

“Hm?” 

“You like Y/N, don’t you?” 

Felix keeps his eyes on his empty bowl of ramen, trying not to blush too hard, and wondering what the best thing to say is. Should he pretend he doesn’t? Should he be honest? He doesn’t want to fight with Changbin. He really doesn’t.

“Why would you say that?” he asks in a small voice.

Changbin shrugs. “Just a feeling. You guys get along great. And when she’s around, I don’t know… you look really relaxed.” 

Felix feels his chest tighten a little. This shouldn’t be that complicated.

“I mean… She’s really nice. Fun to be with. And she’s pretty, yeah. I like her, but…” The words escape his lips, not really a lie, not really the truth. “I’m not in love with her or anything.” 

Changbin gives him a small smile. “That’s not what I’m asking. Just, if you like her, tell me, yeah? She’s really just a friend to me. We don’t see each other any other way, so don’t hold back for my sake, please.”

A small silence follows, as Felix doesn’t know what to say. Changbin ruffles his hair.

“Just food for thought.”

A few days later, when Felix is home and Changbin is at work, he gets a text from you. 

Hey Lix! Are you busy rn? 

He takes a deep breath. 

No, what’s up? 

You explain that you’ve been kindly kicked out of your apartment by your roommate so she can enjoy some quality time with someone. You don’t really have anywhere to go, so you ask Felix if you can come and hang out at his place. Felix agrees - it’s not like he could really say no to you. 

You arrive half an hour later, dressed casually, holding two plastic bags worth of snacks. Felix chuckles when he sees you. 

“It’s just a way to say thanks,” you say, handing him the bags and removing your shoes. “You’re really helping me out here. I didn’t feel like walking around outside for hours, it’s getting cold.” 

“Of course,” Felix says. “I wasn’t doing anything, anyway. Just watching that stupid reality show.” 

You gasp excitedly. “Oh, is it the new episode? I haven’t seen it yet.” 

Felix rubs the back of his neck. “You want to watch it together? I don’t mind putting it back to the beginning.”

“Oh, really? Thanks, that sounds great!” 

Both of you sit down in front of the television with the snacks and you watch the episode. You sit apart on the couch, but the atmosphere feels laid-back. You exchange theories, snicker about the contestants, and Felix smiles so much his cheeks hurt a little. 

After two more episodes both of you are a little tipsy and sitting down on the floor, unable to focus on the screen. You sit next to him, so close that your shoulders are touching. Felix is trying not to think about how good you smell, how cute your voice sounds when a little roughened with the alcohol, how he’s come hard just an hour before to the thought of you sitting on his cock. 

You smile at him, turning to face him, your knees against your chest.

“Felix, don’t you have someone?” 

“No, I don’t,” he says with a frown.

“How about the girl from the party?” you ask. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That was just a hookup.” 

You nod, biting your lip. “But you’re so handsome. So funny. And kind. And you have those cute freckles. It doesn’t make sense to me that you don’t have someone.” 

Felix feels a little hot, and rubs his hand on the back of his neck. He doesn’t understand where all of this comes from - it might be the booze, but neither of you have been drinking a lot. You do not look drunk at all. You’ve never talked about relationships like this.

“I think… I’m just not in the mood for a relationship right now,” he answers eventually, taking the time to choose his words.

“I get that,” you nod. “You could find something casual. Like me and Bin.” 

“I… I guess I could.” 

“Fuck buddies are the best. It’s not complicated. You hang out, you have a good time, and you get laid.” 

“Hm,” he answers, feeling a little dizzy.

You look at him for a long time before you continue. “We could do it, if you want. I don’t think Changbin would mind.” 

“Hm.” He stops. “Wait, what?” 

He turns to stare at you, eyes wide. Did you really just say that? Or did he imagine it? What the fuck was in those beers? 

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I just… I think you’re really cute.” 

Felix blushes fiercely, unable to look at you. “I… Where is this coming from?” He can’t help but ask. You smile softly, looking at him without a hint of shyness. He tries to find something in your eyes that would explain it, if you are playing a trick on him. 

“It’s just…” you play with your fingers nervously. “Changbin told me you thought I was pretty.” 

Felix feels a shiver go down his body. 

“I mean, that’s all he said,” you quickly add. “I really don’t know what you guys say about me, and that’s not my business, I respect that. And if it’s not true, then -” 

“It is,” Felix says. His voice is not as assured as he would like it to be, but he still says it, finding strength in your eyes, in your voice. “I think you’re really pretty.” 

You look up at him, smiling, your cheeks a little red. Felix can’t look away, and it seems like neither can you. Slowly, you lean forward, and put a hand against his cheek. Your skin is warm, like he imagined it would be.

“I lied,” you admit, biting your lip. 

“W-what?” Felix stutters. 

“I said I thought Changbin wouldn’t mind,” you explain. “But actually…”

Felix’s heart beats so fast in his chest he feels like it will burst out. He wants to lean against your hand. He doesn’t know what is happening. 

“I know he wouldn’t,” you continue, blushing more at every word you say, removing your hand. Felix wants to grab it and put it back. “Because I asked him. When he told me that you thought I was pretty, I said that I had a little crush on you. So Changbin asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you.” 

Felix can’t breathe.

Felix can’t think.

Your eyes are on him, your voice so close to him, your skin on his. 

“What did you answer?” he breathes. 

You smile. “I said yes.” 

Felix swallows. He can’t believe his ears. This can’t really be happening. Surely he is dreaming, surely he will wake up in an empty bed again. He expects it will happen any second. But time doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t wake up. You stay there, close to him. You bite your lip mischievously, resting your hands on your lap.  

"You heard us, didn't you? That day." 

"What?" Felix frowns.

"The day we met,” you explain. “When I went back to the living room after having sex with Changbin… I saw your briefcase on the couch. It hadn't been there an hour before." 

Fuck, Felix thinks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

The briefcase. He had forgotten the briefcase. 

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "I - I’m sorry -" 

"Don’t be sorry,” you say with a smile. “I don't mind.” 

Felix feels dizzy. Is he going to be sick? Should he run away? Why wouldn’t you mind? He was gross, he was wrong, he was -

“Did you like what you heard?"

His head shoots up, his eyes going straight into yours. You look composed although he can see your fingers tapping your thigh. Maybe you’re a little nervous, too. Your face doesn’t show it - just your pink cheeks, your long lashes, your lips still wet from your last sip of beer. Felix realizes there is no use in lying. In denying, either. He wants you to know the truth.

How crazy you make him. How he can’t stop thinking of you. 

He nods. “Y-yes.” 

Your eyes light up, and his heart tightens at the vision of your lips curving into a smile. Is this making you happy? 

“Tell me more,” you whisper.

Something snaps inside Felix’s chest. Fuck it, he thinks. It’s better you know. At least it won’t just linger inside of him. It will be out in the world. You can reject him. It will hurt, but it will be ok. He never expected he could ever have you, anyway. 

“I - I think about you all the time.” 

You bite your lip and it’s the most erotic thing Felix has ever seen. He feels his cock harden in his pants, and he pushes on it with the pillow on his lap. 

“Do you get hard thinking about it?” you ask.

“Yes,” he admits without an ounce of hesitation. 

“Do you fuck yourself thinking about fucking me?” 

Such lewd words coming out of your mouth, Felix wants to close his eyes and let each of them sink in. If you end up walking away, or even laughing about it, he’ll have their memory. Your voice dripping sweetness in his ear, warming him up, reminding him it’s all worth it. Reminding him his heart is anything but empty. 

“Yes,” he nods.

You close your eyes and he thinks, this is it. You’re going to stand up and leave. He has gone too far. But you will know. His craving. His longing. But the words that come out of your mouth are completely different.

“Felix, I’m so fucking wet right now.” 

A moan almost escapes Felix’s lips. Did he hear that correctly? Are you really sitting so close to him, telling him you’re wet, because of him? With those reddened cheeks of yours, your breath that slightly hitches between your lips. 

“What -” he stammers. “You - it’s - really?”

You nod, a soft hum escaping your lips, and Felix presses the pillow harder. His cock is so hard by now it hurts a little, but he doesn’t care. He’ll endure any kind of pain for you. 

“But we can’t - I don’t -” 

“I told you,” you say, looking at him with wide eyes. They’re a little humid, your voice almost a whisper. “Changbin doesn’t mind. In fact I’m pretty sure he’d love to join us.” 

“He - he would?” Felix asks. 

“Hm, hm. But I don’t want to pressure you.” 

Felix stops to think for a second. Here you are, all his fantasies come true, ready and willing to have sex with him. It doesn’t feel real, but it is. Felix wants it with all his heart, all his body - but a part of him is blocked. He can’t. 

“You really want to?” he says, his shoulders falling backwards. 

“Yes. Felix, I want you to fuck me.” 

Oh. His cock twitches and he feels terribly dizzy. He breathes out, trying to gather his thoughts, but they’re a complete mess, although something stays crystal clear. 

“I think… I think I need to talk to Changbin about it first.” 

You smile kindly. “That’s okay.” 

“It is?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. 

“Of course,” you nod. “You have a really precious friendship. I respect that you want to honor it.” 

Felix sighs, shaking his head, unable to take his eyes off you. Where the hell did you come from? It doesn’t really matter. You still made your way to him.

 “I like you a lot,” he says with a chuckle.

Your laugh echoes his. “Me too. I’ll wait, Felix, I don’t mind.” 

“Well…”

You look at him curiously. Felix isn’t sure it’s a good idea to suggest this to you, but he’s already hard and you are here. It’s like something has unlocked inside of him, and he doesn’t feel like there’s much to lose. 

“I mean, maybe we can… Not touch each other, but still have fun?” 

Your face lights up again and you smile playfully. “What do you have in mind?” 

Slowly, Felix removes the cushion he was holding, revealing his boner. You look down at the bulge, and he puts a hand around it. He hears you swallow, your eyes dark with lust, looking even more pretty.

“Fuck, I’ve been wondering what your cock looks like…” you whisper.

This is a dream. A fever dream. 

“You want to see it?” Felix suggests in a low voice. 

You nod almost timidly. “Yes, please.” 

He takes out his stiff cock from his jeans, his hands shaking. You bite your lip, sitting back down beside him, your eyes fixed on his length. Felix does not comprehend a single thing that is happening.  

“So big,” you say. “You would fill me whole, Lix… Would you fuck me hard?” 

“So hard,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t stop until you come around me.” 

“Fuck,” you chuckle, inhaling deeply as if to steady your breath. “I feel like I’m going insane just thinking about it.” 

“Me too,” Felix admits. 

You turn towards him a little, and he can see that your eyes keep moving from his face to his cock, and everytime he feels it throb. He is trying to resist stroking it, because you are here, looking at him, wanting him, and Felix can hardly believe it. 

“Touch yourself,” you whisper. 

“W-what?” 

“Touch yourself,” you repeat gently. “Show me how you do it.” 

He doesn’t need to be asked another time. It’s like his hand moves on its own. He wraps his fingers around his cock, starts to stroke it. You sigh softly, staring at it, mouth parted, cheeks red. Felix can’t believe what is happening to him. Are you really watching him jerk off right now? And clearly being turned on by it? 

“What do you think about, when you do that?” you ask, licking your lips, and they are so wet, so plump, Felix wants to kiss them, he wants to feel them on his skin, around his cock. 

Felix whimpers softly. “You. Your mouth. Y-your taste. But mostly…” 

“Yeah?” 

“Your voice. How you would sound. Your moans, your whispers.” 

You smile, your eyes falling into his for a few seconds. “You like my voice?” 

“It’s my favorite.” 

You giggle softly, looking up at him for a few seconds. He must look like a mess, with his eyes hazy with the alcohol and the lust. You don’t seem to mind. In fact, you can’t stop smiling. 

“You look so fucking hot right now, Lix.” 

He watches you as you unbutton your jeans, push them down a little, and slide a hand underneath your panties. His cock twitches in his hand, almost exploding on the spot. 

“W-what are you doing?” he asks in a slight panic.  

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” you mutter. “I just need - I just need some pressure…”  

You close your eyes, moving your fingers in your underwear. Felix imagines them pushing against your soaked folds, teasing your swollen clit, and his hand accelerates around his cock. He’s pretty sure he would die if he could touch you. Taste you. Swirl his tongue inside of you, make you call out his name in pleasure. 

“Fuck, yes, that feels so good…” you moan. 

“Look at me,” Felix breathes without thinking.

You do. Your eyes flutter open directly on him, as you rub yourself, as he jerks himself. It’s a sight he knows he will never forget. Your red cheeks, your messy hair, your lips raw from biting them. He can’t touch you, but he can watch you. 

He is close. So fucking close. 

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him in a whisper, and Felix can’t hold it any longer. 

His cock throbs in his hand, his cum escaping the tip and staining his t-shirt. You let out a loud moan as you watch, and Felix opens his eyes just in time to see your face contorted in pleasure just before your orgasm washes over you. Your body shakes, soft breaths escaping your lips, and he watches in awe.

It’s like witnessing art itself.  

You both stop, breathing heavily, not looking at each other. 

And then you do. 

You smile. Felix does, too. And then you start laughing. 

You lick your fingers clean and button up your jeans. “That was fun. But next time I don’t want to just watch. What do you think?” 

Felix grins.

“I couldn’t agree more."

“Changbin?” 

He looks up from his computer, hiding a yawn behind his hand. His hair is messy from sleep, curls sticking up, his black hoodie a familiar sight. “What’s up, Lix?”

“Can I talk to you?” 

Felix stares at his friend, his heart beating fast in his chest. He holds a mug of freshly made hot chocolate, and there must be something in his tone that indicates it’s not just a casual question, because Changbin nods almost solemnly. 

“Anytime. Sit down.” 

Changbin designates his bed, and Felix sits on it. It’s only half made, the pillows all over the place, the plushie Felix offered him forever ago sitting in a corner. 

“That’s for you,” Felix says, handing him the mug.

Changbin takes it with a thankful smile, arching an eyebrow at the gesture. He stays on his desk chair, turning it around so he faces him. His room is messy, as always, but always comforting. There’s music playing in the background, the smell of chocolate in the air. 

“So, hm…” Felix rubs his thighs nervously. “There’s, hm… It’s…” 

He had prepared what he was going to say, but now that he is here, he has forgotten everything. He pales a little, stammering, looking for his words. 

Changbin chuckles, turning the spoon inside the mug to keep mixing the milk. “Are you finally here to talk to me about Y/N?” 

Felix blushes. “Did she tell you what happened?” 

Changbin stops and frowns. “What? No.” 

“Oh,” Felix says faintly.

“What happened?” Changbin asks.

“Nothing!” 

Changbin smirks. “Did you guys fuck?” 

“What, no!” 

“It’d be fine, you know,” he shrugs. “She’s not my girlfriend or anything.” 

Felix raises his palms, taking a deep breath. “Slow down.” 

This is not how he imagined the conversation doing, although it is moving in the right direction. Felix chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Okay. Here goes. Me and Y/N… talked, and we told each other we are… well… interested in… more.” 

Changbin chuckles, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “You mean fucking.” 

“Yes,” Felix blurts out. “I didn’t touch her, though. She told me you told her it would be fine, but I didn’t want to do anything without talking to you first. Directly.” 

“Lixie…” Changbin smiles fondly. “I appreciate it, I do. But it’s fine. I told you, she’s not my girlfriend, and she’s a really great person. I think you’d have fun together.” 

Felix’s shoulders drop. “You really don’t mind?” 

“No, why would I? We’re all friends, and she’s hot, and I totally get you. If this was the opposite situation, would you care if I was interested?” 

Felix stops for a second to think about it. Would he? If the roles were reversed, and you were his fuck buddy, would he be bothered by the idea of Changbin touching you as well? The answer suddenly seems obvious. No, he wouldn’t. Not Changbin. Just like he doesn’t mind that Changbin and you were a thing first - in fact, maybe it makes his whole thing even better. 

“No,” Felix answers. “Not at all.”

Changbin claps his hand. “There you have it. Although, I gotta tell you…” 

He hesitates, puts down his mug, and looks at Felix. 

“If it works out, you and her. Maybe one day I could join you? I can just watch. Or if it bothers you, we…” 

Felix grins. “It doesn’t bother me. That could be fun. I…” He blushes a little. “I’d love to watch the two of you, too.” 

Changbin’s laugh echoes through the room. “You like that too? I can’t believe we’ve been friends this long and didn’t know this about each other. We gotta talk about sex more, man.” 

Felix shakes his head with a smile, feeling much lighter. “Then there’s something I gotta tell you.” 

He tells Changbin about walking in on them and listening, and both friends burst out laughing. They keep talking until the late hours of the night, their voices breaking out, falling asleep in the living room, buried under blankets and pillows.

Changbin turns to you, smirking amusingly. 

“Well, here I go,” he states dramatically. “Going to see a movie. On my own.” 

Standing next to Felix, you wave at Changbin excitedly. “Have fun!” 

“Hope you enjoy it,” Felix adds with a nod.

Changbin shakes his head and gives you both a dark glare. “You kids be safe.” 

You snort. “Fuck off, Bin.” 

With a laugh, Changbin closes the door behind him, and Felix waits until he hears his footsteps going down the hallway before he turns to you. He feels a little nervous, because he knows exactly why you are here and why Changbin wanted to leave the both of you alone. It feels awkward. And yet it really doesn’t. 

You turn to him, looking gorgeous in your black lace top, your hair let down your shoulders, your eyes wide and shimmering in the dim light. Did you choose your clothes as carefully as him, stressing over every wild strand of hair on your head, applying what seemed like just the right amount of perfume? 

“Hi,” you say, and he can hear a hint of nervousness in your voice. 

“Hi,” he replies with a nervous laugh. “You, hm… You want a drink?” 

You nod, breathing out. “Yeah, good idea.” 

You both head towards the kitchen, not even bothering to open a light. The day is slowly fading, filling the room in a dark orange hue, so you see each other well without the crudeness of the neons. 

Felix opens a cupboard and takes out two glasses, turning to ask you what you’d like to drink, except you’re suddenly standing close to him, and he knows you are not, in fact, in the mood to waste any time. His heart twists and turns in his chest. 

“You look gorgeous,” he tells you, because he wanted to.

You smile. “You too.” 

You stare at his lips, brushing them with the tip of your fingers, tracing their curves. Felix shivers, his chest tight, his legs a little unsteady. Is this really happening? Is this really happening to him? 

“Felix,” you breathe. “Kiss me?” 

He gives a little nod, inhaling slowly. 

Just fall, Felix.

Let yourself fall. 

He kisses you, and your lips taste of heaven. They’re even softer than he imagined, asking to be devoured, and Felix deepens the kiss almost instantly, greedy for more. You moan against his mouth, putting your arms on his shoulders, one of your hands burying itself in his hair. Felix pushes you against the counter of the kitchen, pinning your body against his. He kisses you like you neither of you need air, like it’s his first and last time. 

His hands touch your waist, slide around your figure to your back, his fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your skin feels soft as he explores it. You sigh as you part your mouth, letting him wrap his tongue around yours. It tastes of caramel and Felix thinks, for a second, he might be losing his mind. He loves caramel. He told you that, once. His cock is already hard, pushing against you, but you do not seem to mind it. In fact, you start to roll your hips a little, causing enticing friction that sends further shivers down Felix’s spine. 

“Felix,” you whisper as you gasp for air. “Tell me what you like.” 

“You,” he answers quickly, placing wet kisses down your jaw, all the way to your ear, which he bites gently. 

You let out a moan, and it’s music to his ears. “I mean - you know what I mean…” 

“I know what I said,” Felix says, his lips brushing your neck. “I just want you.” 

He’s pretty sure he sees you smile, but he is too focused on kissing every inch of your exposed skin to linger on it. You take one of his hands and place it around one of your tits, and Felix presses his fingers a little, drawing a whimper from your lips. He could stay like this for hours, just discovering your body, your weak spots, your voice going high and low, breathing, moaning, breaking. 

“Just don’t stop making noise,” he tells you in a breath, capturing your lips again. “Not ever. Your voice sounds so sweet.” 

“I can do that,” you say with a slight chuckle. 

His hands wander on your ass, giving it a squeeze, and then he brings you up to sit you on the counter. Removing your shirt, he buries his face in between your breasts, giving them licks and kisses. You breathe out, stroking his hair, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. Felix doesn’t even feel shy under your eyes, like he’s known you forever. Your body is amazing to him, your skin soft, your scent making him delirious. 

He can finally touch you, he can finally love you. 

You unbutton your jeans and Felix helps you take them off, lifting your butt off the counter, sliding them down onto the floor. He bends down to kiss your legs, something he’s wanted to do since the first day he met you. He’s never been able to forget the sight of you walking away wearing Changbin’s hoodie. He traces his tongue the length of your thigh, stopping close to your underwear, making you shiver.

“Lix…” you whisper. “Don’t tease me too much.” 

Unable to help himself, Felix smiles, tugging cheekily at your panties. “You want me to kiss you down there, angel?” 

You open your eyes, and they are hazy, filled with desire, making Felix’s head spin. He keeps himself steady, wanting to please you above anything else. 

“Please,” you nod. 

“So nicely asked,” he answers. “Let’s see how wet you are for me.” 

Felix spreads your legs slowly, feeling almost dizzy, leaning to push his lips against the fabric of your panties, just above your clit. He puts a gentle kiss there, feeling your wetness, which sends a rush of blood to his already aching cock. He resists touching himself there, because he knows that he’d come in seconds just on the taste of you. 

He pulls out his tongue, gives your panties a quick lick, and you shiver, letting out a soft moan. Your hand comes to rest in his hair.

“M-more, please,” you whimper, rolling your hips almost desperately. 

“Angel,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want. Use your voice.” 

“I want -” you swallow, looking at him. “I want you to eat me out. I want your lips between my legs, drinking me in.” 

“Fuck,” Felix gulps. “How could I say no?”

With trembling fingers, Felix removes your panties and takes a look at your soaked cunt. It is right there, spread and ready for him. He doesn’t stop and think, he just buries his face in you, slurping your juices, drawing his tongue all over your pussy. You buck your hips as he starts to make out with your cunt, his hands keeping your legs apart. Your head falls against the cupboards, your eyes closed, your fingers pulling slightly at his blonde locks. 

“Felix, fuck, keep - keep doing that…” 

Gently, Felix sucks in your clit, and moves his hand so his fingers tease your entrance. 

“Does this feel good?” 

You nod feverishly, and Felix can’t help but smile, his chin coated in you, completely drunk on the sound and taste of you. 

“It feels so fucking good,” you breathe out. “Give me your fingers, Lix, please…” 

He pushes two fingers inside your hole, moving them slowly and steadily, his mouth drinking in the rest of your pussy. Looking up for a second, he sees your eyes closed tightly, your breasts moving as you arch your back, your nipples pointed in pleasure. His cock throbs in his pants, almost hurting him, but he doesn’t care. 

With his fingers inside of you, he can feel you clenching, coming close to your climax. He doesn’t stop, kissing your pussy even more fervently, and you whimper. 

“Lix, I’m going to… You’re gonna - you’re gonna make me come.” 

“Let me hear you, angel,” he tells you before delving back into your cunt, accelerating his movements, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit. 

You come all at once, your body shaking against him, your walls sucking his fingers in. Felix grins, not stopping until you breathe out deeply, your body relaxing, your high slowly coming down. 

He removes his fingers and stands back up, his jeans uncomfortably tight, but he gently takes your face in his hands to kiss you. Your skin is sensitive, he can feel it - you shiver a little as he strokes your arm. You put your arms around him then, pulling him close, and Felix sighs. You’re so warm. 

“That was amazing, Felix,” you breathe in his ear. 

“I’m glad,” he answers, playing with a strand of your hair. 

“Now will you let me make you feel good?” you ask, leaning back to look into his eyes. 

He nods, taking in the sight of you, looking fucked out, your hair messy, your skin glowing with sweat. You undo the button of his jeans, put them down, and he helps you remove them. Once he’s naked like you, his cock springing free, you pull him back to you and wrap your fingers around his length.

Felix’s breath hitches, unaccustomed to the touch, and it feels so incredible to know it is you touching him, he knows he can’t last too long. He already has to focus not to blow as you stroke his cock slowly, smearing it in pre-cum, feeling the hardness. 

You kiss his neck, sending shivers down his spine, your breasts pushed against his chest, your nipples tickling his skin. 

“So hard,” you breathe. “Your cock feels so nice, Lix. I can’t wait to have it inside of me.” 

“Can I fuck you?” he groans, unable to wait any longer. 

“Any way you want.” 

He gives you a long, dark look, and gently removes your hand. He needs to have your voice right there against his ear, so close it becomes a part of him. So he slips on the condom he brought from the bathroom, guides his cock to your entrance, and enters you slowly. 

You gasp, but he buries himself inside of you easily, aided by your slickness. One of his hands grabs your waist, the other settles on the back of your neck. You feel like everything he dreamed of and more. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” you say in his ear, and he can hear your smile. 

“Can you say my name?” he asks a little shyly, starting to move his hips, fucking you slowly. 

You kiss his earlobe, brush your lips against his ear. “Felix.” 

He pounds into you, moaning loudly. 

“Felix,” you repeat. “Keep fucking me, please.” 

He thrusts his hips into you, again and again, as you repeat his name. Harder, Felix. Fuck me, Felix. Felix. Felix. Each time it becomes more and more of a whimper, turning into whispers, then into moans, and into whimpers again. He’s fucking you vigorously, unable to slow down, unable to stop, intoxicated, your voice leading him on, pushing him to the edge. 

“I’m close,” he grunts in your ear.

“Felix,” you breathe. “I want to see your cum.” 

“Want me to come on you, angel?” 

“P-please. Fuck, I’m gonna come again if you keep fucking me like that -” 

You come again, shuddering against him, and the clench of your walls brings him to his climax. Felix hurries to remove the condom, strokes his cock a few times and comes on your leg, spurting his seed there. You look down at the mess as he breathes out, completely exhausted but still in his high. His forehead falls against yours, and you kiss his cheeks, his lips, the bridge of his nose. 

It takes a minute or two for him to start moving, his body feeling both drained and revitalized. He looks at you, his eyes heavy, in awe of what has happened. Did he just fuck you on the kitchen counter and came on your leg? Is that him, dripping there? Is that you, smiling at him, your eyes glassy and your lips raw with kissing? 

He could come again just at the sight. 

He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, kisses you gently. You look back at him, your eyes sparkling.

“Watching was fun, but this is better, isn’t it?” you smile.  

Felix laughs. “Definitely.”

Changbin comes back home a few hours after, holding what looks like an empty take out coffee from the place around the corner. He closes the door slowly, taking a long look at the two of you. Felix gives him a wave, not removing his arm from around your shoulders. You do not move from where you are, huddled up next to him, your nose in the crook of his neck. Changbin seems to relax at finding you just cuddling on the couch in front of the television although he texted Felix ten minutes before to make sure it was “safe” to come home.

“Hey, kids,” he says with a knowing smirk, removing his shoes. 

Felix rolls his eyes but he can’t stop smiling. “Hey, Bin.” 

“How was the movie?” you ask him. 

“Not too bad,” Changbin shrugs. “But it had a horrible ending.”

“Ugh, I hate those,” you say, wrinkling your nose. 

Changbin walks over to the both of you, ruffling Felix’s hair on the way, and sits on the other section of the couch, giving both of you a long look. Felix blushes a little, but he feels too calm and content to be bothered. 

“So…” Changbin starts. “Did you… have fun?” 

You start laughing and the noise makes Felix’s chest vibrate. He grins at the sound, at the sensation, and Changbin chuckles. 

“Got my answer,” he states. “I won’t ask about it too much, but just give me one detail. For curiosity’s sake.” 

Felix exchanges a long look with you, and you smirk. You glance at Changbin, your hand resting on Felix’s stomach, under his shirt. You are caressing his skin with your thumb. 

“Kitchen,” you say.

Changbin scoffs. “I hope you cleaned up after yourselves, then. If my eggs taste weird tomorrow I’m blaming you.”

“You can blame the old pint of milk you still haven’t thrown away,” Felix points out.

“Oi. I let you guys get laid, you could throw it away for me.” 

“What does this have to do with an old pint of milk?” 

“Everything,” Changbin states. 

You sigh. “Oh my God, I will throw it away if you guys don’t shut it. It’s my favorite part.” 

Felix and Changbin exchange a look and giggle silently. There are a few seconds of silence where the three of you look at the movie on the television. You are mouthing the lines of dialogue and Changbin is smiling affectionately at you. Felix is not really paying any attention to the movie - he is focusing on you, your weight on him, your smell mixing with yours. It feels even better to have Changbin close. All his favorite people here. He does not feel empty. He does not feel cold.

“Should I leave?” Changbin asks after a while.

Felix gets where he comes from. It’s not bitter, it’s not disappointed. It’s careful. He’s testing the waters, making sure he’s not invading your space - but Felix quickly shakes his head. 

“No reason for you to,” he answers. 

You frown and turn to Changbin. “Stay, Bin.” 

You extend a hand and Changbin takes it with a smile, shuffling closer. 

“Want some caramel popcorn?” you offer, handing him the half full bowl of the popcorn you made earlier. 

Changbin scrunches his nose, leaning against your shoulder. “Hell, no. Only you two like that stuff.” 

Felix looks down at you. You are already looking at him with a smile.

• author’s note: Caramel popcorn is the best I've been craving it for days!! First time in my life I disagree with Seo Changbin!!!!!! Anyway. Did I ever tell you how much I adore Changlix? I need to write about them more. A lot more. So this is a little thing. I hope you guys enjoyed it ♡ My next fic will be a series, I hope to announce it soon!

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @oxviolentheartxo (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

#felix smut #felix x you #felix x reader #felix x y/n #lee felix smut #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #felix x female reader #lee felix x female reader #felix x afab reader #lee felix x afab reader #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x female reader #skz x afab reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x afab reader #kpop smut #changbin smut #changbin x you #changbin x y/n #changbin x reader #seo changbin smut

[enterplanetdust]

25

i think of school shooters the same way that id think of a spoiled child being told "no" to having their third serving of ice cream for the day it's like they figure out that life isn't fair (which literally everyone else figured out at birth + mental illnesses) in spite of their many privileges and then they fucking lose it

and as much as i think back to eric harris and how i feel bad for him on occasion, for him and dylan to grasp at straws for reasons to hate others (which is not to undermine the bullying and torment they received) is insane to me (like him getting pissed about girls not calling him back or dylan slapping his coworker because she told him off about something).

all of this and their childishness in spite of the fact that they were literally planning a massive terrorist attack (which isn't so childish) is essentially prominent in how they mention that the shooting is their fault entirely. did they just think that bbecause you say something that it automatically becomes true? i mean, e&d were going to kill themselves and it ain't possible to bring a dead person to court, so of course they'd arrest mark manes and philip duran and bring robyn to court

i just don't think eric and dylan really understood the consequences of their actions because they were so caught up in this retarded escapist fantasy where they were the heroes in tarantino films (and teenagers). i think the concept of this just makes me sad in general, since the way they behaved during and leading up to the shooting was an obvious way for them to feel powerful and in control, which had been stripped from them by that very school.

i also don't mean to undermine the horrid environment at columbine and the obvious favoritism that plagued the student body and staff. harris and klebold were incredibly mentally ill, which when is combined with a toxic environment in which you spend your developmental years and a mutually hate-filled friendship, results in tragedy.

it also hurts my heart to read anecdotes about the victims, eric and dylan included, from those who loved them. hearing about how cassie bernall struggled with suicidality, thoughts of killing her parents, and briefly experimenting with the goth subculture made me wonder if eric or dylan ever considered that others felt the same pain and troubles that they did. hearing about how devon adams had to decide on which friend's funeral to attend, one murdering the other and many more, reading about an interaction brooks had with rachel while they were smoking wherein they discussed their religious affiliations respectfully, learning about how daniel mauser would attend anti-gun protests, devon sharing how dylan saved one of rachels interpretive dances by fixing the tape, etc make me think of how intertwined littleton is (especially columbine kids) and the domino effect that it's had on the world.

so many shooters have cited e&d as inspirations, people have replicated wrath and natural selection shirts, written fics about them, plays, films, etcetera. there's online communities dedicated to colimbine, sometimes as part of a larger true crime community, where people discuss and learn about it. i myself began research approx. 2 years ago and have since developed a special interest regarding columbine. deaths, other than ones because of copycat shooters/killers such as sol pais are linked to columbine. it's had such an imnense effect on the world that cannot be understated solely because of its magnitude.

columbine was so senseless and i hate that 14 children and a beloved teacher died so that e&d could "even the score." i hope, in their final moments, that eric and dylan felt ashamed and embarrassed of what they did, the world, music, movies, their hobbies and interests they discarded, the people they left behind who've been left to pcik up the pieces of their destruction

#columbine 1999 #tcc #eric harris #dylan klebold #yap session

[meowsgirldrawing]

Obey Me Next Generation Idea(aka-My au)

What about poly Au with the bros? I assume with demon culture, MC having kids and the bros all being the dad wouldn't be too surprising as I think monogamous relationships are seen just the same as polyamorous. Like neither really matter honestly in a "oh this is a big deal/drama!" Sense.

Plus its the 7 lords, they can do whatever the fuck they want

I know MC is mostly human but I think having kids is still possible as they got magic plus their pacts with the bros might make them stronger. Plus, historically, woman have been able to have multiple pregnancies, like more than 4 at least, so still- not impossible.

Just let me have my next gen shenanigans

ONTO THE KIDS PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Varya (1st Born) (she/her)-25

Daughter of Mammon

Is more demon than human, possibly the most demon out of the kids.

Holds a very smiley but deadly aura around her.

Seems the opposite of Mammon in behavior but you can tell by her subtle acts towards her family, shes his kid alright.

Is the type of person to shake a person's hand but hold a knife in the other.

"Looks like a cinnamon roll, can kill you"

Lights up at the mentions of crocheting, dogs, and weird but oddly alluring creatures around Devildom.

She does have a small habit of gambling when out with Mammon, but is actually able to keep her wins because no one expects it through her gold-winning smile.

Mess with her family and its on sight.

Lilith the 2nd (3rd born-1st triplet) (she/her)-21

I headcannon Lucifer to at least be the only one to name their daughter after their sister. Not to replace, never, but to honor her.

Is in a strange middle between Half demon-mostly demon

Sweetheart by default

That big sister you can always talk to and she wont judge.

Will make passive agressive remarks when peeved off.

Definitely denies acting like Lucifer yet can do the stance-arms crossed and glare- exactly like him.

Even does the whole hand chest like him too. Shocked look and all.

Calls all the brothers papa but Lucifer father, not as a distance way but thats just how she's always been.

Theatre kid- almost always lead.

Anna from Frozen vibes at times.

Hopeless romantic too.

Basically Lucifer if he actually showed more emotions.

Daddy's girl 100%

May or may not be in a secret relationship with Diavolo's heir👀

Rhomb(2nd Born) (he/him)-23

Son of Leviathan

Named after the Loch ness Monster

A nice balance between human and demon

But has "mutations" that make him have scaly patches on his body, his tail out almost 24/7, and bad eyesight.

Stern attitude most of the time.

Big bro protector

Tallest of all the kids

Softer on the younger kids but will smack a bitch if they act up.

Cant play video games much cause eyes so turns to more physical games that include puzzles.

Likes games with strategy to follow like War tanks, or chess. Is the type to make a DnD game the best cause he makes amazing stories too despite not reading much.

Likes mystery shows too and tries to figure it out before the answer is revealed, could go on rants about why. Gets it right 11/10 times.

If Leviathan wasnt his biological dad, people would believe he was Satan's kid.

Doesnt like cats tho.

Quinn (4th Born- 2nd Triplet) (He/they/doesnt care) (21)

Asmo just thought Quinn was a pretty name so picked it lol.

Also a nice balance between human/demon. Tho his wings stay out constantly.

Very much vibes from that yellow bird in Rio.

Laid back personality but is an outgoing dude.

Also very protective of their siblings, and will not hesitate to cut a bitch.

Isnt as flamboyant as Asmo but does have a just as great fashion sense.

Has a hard time dating as people automatically assume hes just like Asmo so will try to date him for that reason only.

Love his dad but hates the reputation he gets because of being said son.

So he resorts to just sticking to his siblings or the few friends he trusts.

Besides MC, is the second most popular face to pop up on Asmo's Devilgram

Fucking adores axolotls for no particular reason, just loves them to no end which Asmo makes sure to get many axolotl themed plushes, shirts, etc. for him.

Libbey(Liberty) (5th Born- 3rd triplet)(she/her)-21

Another balance between human/demon, maybe a tad more on the demon side.

Tho, also has "mutations" like very enhanced hearing.

Bookworm to the max

Loves reading dramas and fantasies, but seems to enjoy multiseries more than stand alone.

Very quiet and shy kid of the group.

Sometimes cant even talk so signs instead because earaches or headaches.

Likes cats but perfers reptiles more.

Has a small turtle in her room from the human realm, set it up beside her bed and everything. Their name is Casey after one of her favorite human novels she read.

But despite all this, isnt called the daughter of wrath just for nothing beside biology reasons.

Is like Satan 2.0 when pissed, she wont yell or scream but you can just tell from the drop of room temperature and the subtle tilt of her head.

Her eyes glow an electric green when shes pissed.

Had more anger issues when younger, but cause Satan knew how to handle his better now, taught her how to aswell.

Satan is probably the main one to understand her issues with such a problem, despite being more mellowed out now that shes older.

Is definitely a cryer when really angry tho.

Ryder(6th Born) (1st twin)- 19

Ngl, everyone was surprised that they had twins. Including Belphie himself.

But then again, they did have triplets before them so....eh?

Ryder is a tad more human than demon, but still powerful enough to have his own demon form like his older siblings.

His tail is seen smaller than Belphie's, and a bit thinner too.

The sloth genes affact him only so much, making him more likely just want to procrastinate then outright not do anything.

He honestly enjoys the human world more than Devildom, mainly cause everything is less..hectic per say.

Hes the type of brother/older friend that will cover for ya if you have to hide something but will subtly suggest how to fix whatever their doing.

Like one time Quinn came home slightly tipsy and past curfew, and he snuck them into his room. Though he scolded them in the morning, he covered for Quinn at breakfast, saying they ate too much sugar last night, thats why hes queasy and has a headache.

Quinn did fix that habit up quick after Ryder threatened to leave him on his own next time it happened.

Calls everyone bro or dude, no matter their gender.

Gen z vibes too in most areas.

Has a fixation with cow bells for some reason, likes the noise is all he can say.

If he were told what Belphie did to their mom/human parent way before they were born, he says "Cowabummer" while screaming inside.

River(7th born-2nd twin)(they/them)-19

How is this Belphie's kid?

Too hyper, tad crazy

Probably has ADHD, who knows.

While Ryder is the slightly responsible twin, their the reason why Ryder needs to be said twin.

Their just about the same range of human/demon as Ryder, can have a demon form, but only uses it to fuck with people than to actually be scary with it.

They may have alot of power, but their personality alone can kill people.

Is the type of kid to crawl on the ceiling when they were 2.

Is also the type to hop outta window to get to the lower floor faster. Thank Belphie for their demon powers otherwise we'd have another Lillith situation.

Has scared even Lucifer at one point, has made him yelp out of surprise. Will not go on how, no matter how much Papa Satan and Belphie ask them. Just has a toothy grin when they ask.

When calm, is actually a pretty chill dude. They like odd patterns and get fixated on the most random things.

MC gave them one of those sand timers that you flip to restart and when she came down to tell them food was done about 2 hours later, she found them sitting on the table, holding it while watching the sand go down. They use it now to relax and focus on when overstimultated or just having too much of a fuzzy head.

Has spent nearly a how week with Leviathan because they got hooked on one anime with him. Now has frequent solo movie nights with him cause.

"They're tad confused, but got the spirit"

Literally had to have someone (Rhomb) explain to them what the LGBTQ+ letters meant. Legit thought it was just new alphabet pattern, was still happy to find out what it all means.

If you told them what Belphie did to their mom before they were born, they'd think it as a joke. Dont tell them otherwise or they will cry.

Frankie(8th Born)(She/her)-16

Everyone thought that she would be the biggest child when MC was pregnant with her, since y'know, it was confirmed Beel's kid.

Yeah, she came out small. Like scary small for a baby.

It was then everyone knew she would be the most human. Has a little demon in her, but clearly not enough to have a demon form nor mark.

Lucifer's wallet cried in relief.

She does eat a good bit more than the average human but overall, nothing compared to Beel.

She does adore sweets to the max, especially gummies. Give her some and she'll love you forever.

Sweetest little sunshine in the world, everyone adores her. If they dont, then they will soon.

Shes like Mirabel in encanto, kinda wishes she had more demon powers but is still overall happy with who she is.

When her a Beel are with each other- OH MY DIAVOLO, THE CAVITIES PEOPLE GET- TOO DAMN SWEET AND PURE

Like big papa Beel and his sweet little girl all smiley and pure. Best father-daughter relationship out of all the siblings and fathers.

Shes kinda like pinkie pie from MLP but like more hyper as fuck. Can and will speak so fast when excited that it just comes out as squeaks at that point.

Since her more human side, shes more likely to stay in human world when their mom is on Buisness there, so she has alot of human friends.

Shes in gymnastics, which definitely helps keep her figure more smaller despite all the sweets she eats. Does work out with Beel too.

Mess with her and you have a whole army on yer ass.

"Bounce to the beat of my own drum!"

You can just tell how much I love this dear. HA

#art #digital art #oc x canon #oc inserts #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #Obey me Next gen #MC kids #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me satan x mc #obey me beel x mc #obey me belphie x mc #obey me levi x mc #next generation #next generation kids #love child

[forever--darling]

Hi sweet girl , I want to tell you that your me & the devil fic is one of my favorites and one of the best I'm reading. For me Anakin x reader is perfection 💗.

I don't know if I'm being too ambitious but in blurb ideas I have one for Hayden and one for Anakin. I would like it to be fluffy.

From Hayden it could be something like : How is an outing with him ? ( I love how homey he is ) . Cooking together , watching movies in his living room while cuddling . Him giving that charming smile he has .

And for Anakin I love the idea of how he comforts his girl . Hugs , nicknames , cuddling together .

summary: a night staying in, resulting in getting high, has you unable to focus on the idea of sex when you're too busy laughing & realizing the extent of your feelings

pairings: hayden christenson x young!reader

word count: 1.0k

warnings/notes: age!gap (reader in mid-twenties), mention of weed/getting high, fluff, honeymoon phase af, mentions of sex, mentions of anakin skywalker

p.s. to whoever requested this, I will be doing your second request as well sometime soon.

masterlist

Blue pupils stared back at you, up through the dim lighting of the bedside lamp. Slightly blown out, from the weed in his system or you, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t know as this wasn’t something the two of you ever did often, yet the sudden fire beneath your skin and the precious need to press your body close to his was something you craved. Perhaps, it was the way his lips felt along your collarbones, the sides of your neck, or how his warm hands, calluses in all, felt along the bareskin of your sides. Maybe it was just him in general, how much and how quickly you had found yourself wanting him. 

Or maybe it's just the drugs. 

The way they seemed to warp your senses, filling the air with some sort of stamina that left the particles buzzing and your breath astray. The music sounded quieter than it really was, but perhaps it was masked by the soft giggle that poured out freely. 

“What? What is it?” Hayden sighed, almost disappointed, his head lifting up from where his lips had been attached to your collarbone, kissing softly.

A quirk appeared in his brow, a teasing look in his eyes as he took in the way you appeared so perfectly pinned underneath him. His body on top of yours, legs parting yours, his weight light as they pushed you deeper into the mattress. 

Your laughter quit but only for a moment as you tried to explain just what was so funny to you in the first place, something that wouldn’t have been nearly as funny if you hadn’t smoked as much as you had. For not having done it in a while other than the edibles you had at least once a week, you had forgotten how much to inhale. 

“Nothing,” you said, trying to appear as serious as can be, a smile forming in a fine line as you met his stare. 

Your laugh burst out again, though, and your eyes crinkled shut, unable to stop the way the hormones attacked the neurons in your brain. 

“Right,” Hayden replied, narrowing his eyes playfully, the redness in them no doubt matching your own. “Clearly, it’s nothing if it has you laughing as much as you are.” 

You shook your head, hands automatically wrapping around his strong shoulders, fingers carding through the back of his hair almost like they had a mind of their own. The softness of the short curls had your heart bursting if that was even a feeling. 

“Seriously, tell me.” 

“I can’t.” 

“And why not?” he demanded, thumbs rubbing soft circles across your hips. 

“Because…” 

You were laughing again, and his head was falling, meeting your chest with ease, a sigh filtering out of his lips. 

“Baby,” he mumbled, lips pressed along your collarbone again, but this time no longer gracing them with the kisses you had come to love so much. Almost too much. 

“Fine, okay,” you gave in, laughter diminishing again to nothing but a soft chuckle, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to get the words out, “I was just thinking…” 

“Yeah?” 

“When you’ve hooked up with girls in the past, have they, ever, you know. Asked you to like dress up in costume?”

A deadpan look appeared on his face as his head lifted, eyes finding yours again, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, have they ever been mid-foreplay and straight out asked you if you can dress up as Anakin or Darth Vader?” 

“Where is this coming from?” he chuckled, too, lips lifting into that smile that somehow had convinced you to leave all the guys your age in the past. 

“Or have they asked you to pull out your lightsaber?” 

“Y/N,” he shook his head, mouth forming in an ‘o’, almost in surprise as you continued to laugh. “I’m trying to initiate sex here, and you’re laughing about if other girls have asked me to make their Star Wars sex fantasies a reality?”

“Well, yeah,” you replied, the tone almost accusatory tone as if it was something you would be asking, especially five hits later from the joint that was now stubbed out in the bathroom. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that,” he laughed then, too, “Why, is that something you want? Do you want to know about my lightsaber?” 

“I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t,” you retorted, laughter falling away to complete seriousness.

 Staring down at him, you felt the silence lull, almost swallowing you whole as the realization appeared again, almost like a car hitting you out of nowhere. The realization that you had fallen for an older man, a man you hadn’t expected to ever want you back, to notice you the way he had. Worse, to love him as you did so quickly, so immensely was too much, too much to understand, to accept. 

Yet there you were, pinned beneath him, heart so full, so well-kept, hoping that it would stay close within his palms for the rest of time. 

That charming smile appeared then on his face, his eyes crinkling slightly, a certain sort of contentment appearing as if he had had a revelation of his own. Words were not enough in that moment, so evidently as he leaned up, connecting his lips with yours, softly, deeply as if he was trying to pour his very own breath into your being. 

You loved this man; that was inevitable. 

After a few seconds, he pulled back, only enough for his lips to depart from yours. That smirk of his still firmly sat along his face. “So, what are you saying? Do you want me to go grab my wardrobe from set? I’m sure you would really have something to laugh at then, wouldn’t you?” 

You loved this man, and you wanted him like this forever.

“Yeah, I would.” 

#inbox #anon inbox #💌 asks #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #blurb

[physalian]

Take A Risk and Don’t Write a Chosen One

This trope stands the test of time for some very good reasons: Audience wish-fulfillment as they live vicariously through the hero, automatic plot-induced agency for your protagonist, and automatic legitimate reasons for your protagonist to join the whirlwind adventure of the day.

I like chosen ones. We all have our favorite famous chosen ones and I’m not here to say the concept of a chosen one is bad at all.

However.

Those “automatic” windfalls that come pre-packaged with the trope can lead to the author taking shortcuts, or not thinking they have to put in more effort to write a compelling character, because they’re the “chosen one,” what more do you need?

Not writing your protagonist as commanded by the powers that be to participate in the plot forces you to get creative with why they’re here, what they want, and how they entrench themselves in the story. And most importantly, if the gods haven’t chosen them to act, they must now choose themselves to act.

—

I have never read Harry Potter and after its author-who-shan’t-be-named flushed her reputation down the toilet, I never will. I’ve seen the movies, they’re ok. I have no nostalgia-driven love for this franchise, and most of that comes from watching Harry be an incredibly boring protagonist.

Book readers correct me, but Harry is the poster child of “only exists so the audience can live vicariously” with generic heroic traits and nonexistent or at least unimportant side quirks and distinguishing hobbies, interests, or personality tics. He’s “brave” and “courageous” and “determined”... as most child protagonists of children’s books should be. He has zero flaws that come back to bite him in the ass. He acts the way he’s supposed to, not the way he should want to, as an independent being.

He’s the least interesting character in this entire cast, and I can’t stand Movie Ron. Ron, Hermione, Neville, or Draco would have made much more compelling protagonists and so much of this relies on the “Harry is important because the plot demands it” crutch.

Why is he the chosen one? Because his birthday happened at the right time of year? What is the story trying to say about the dichotomy between him and Voldemort? What about his personality, his wizard-societal stances on the many faux pas in this series, or the choices he makes, that makes him the chosen one? Why should I care?

You know who’s a great chosen one? Percy Jackson. Why? Because he understands the screwed up world he lives in on page 1. Being a demigod isn’t everything he ever dreamed and despite what Disney + wants you to believe, he’s got a crap bio dad who’s as disappointing in book one as Percy expects him to be.

He’s not even the chosen one by the end of the original series, and what a fantastic twist that was.

An infamously self-chosen protagonist has her own iconic hero quote: "I volunteer as tribute". Katniss is a nobody. She's not the evil president's daughter, she's not the child of a famously martyred revolutionary, she's just a girl who refuses to bow down to the reaping, refuses to let her sister get slaughtered, and volunteers for a death match that historically sees anyone living to survive another year cowering in relief. Yeah, she has some convenient skills in her archery and survival knowledge, but those matter because her district is starving, she learned through necessity.

Every second of her story, Katniss is fighting for her right to exist, and she only becomes a "chosen one" dragged around by the powers that be when she becomes marketable to the grand scheming of the actual revolutionaries, when, before, she didn't care about politics, she just wanted to save her sister. She matters because she chose compassion in a world where survival demands only serving yourself.

—

It’s so, so easy to start planning your book and make your cool fantasy world and figure out how your protagonist fits into it. So easy to say “well they’re the long-lost princess and the only heir to the throne” or “this magic amulet from her great great aunt is the key to saving the world” or “she’s the villain’s secret love child and the only one who can stop him because blood magic” or “this vague prophecy picked this little desert slave boy to bring balance to the Force”.

None of these stories are at fault for writing chosen ones.

But push yourself to let go of that crutch and come up with other reasons for why your hero is the hero. Usually this character has been isekai'd into magical-fantasy-land or magical-hidden-fantasy-urban-underbelly and you can still write that character.

Refusing to make them the chosen one demands one thing first and foremost: How is this outsider going to fight for their place to exist here? What do they bring to the table with their hobbies or interests or unique skillset that happens to be mighty applicable and useful in this new world? What is it about their personality that draws these strangers in? What do they want from this new world, and what are they willing to do to get it?

This choice demands you give your hero agency (though whether you give into those demands is up to you).

More importantly: I think it gives your audience agency, as they still live vicariously through their hero. Sure, lots of kids have lost their parents and live in horrid conditions like a cupboard under the stairs, but none of us will ever be “chosen” by omniscient wizard prophets. Harry would have immediately been a more compelling protagonist to me if he’d stumbled upon magical shenaniganry and fought for his place as some forgotten nobody mudblood.

Harry would have shown us his courage, instead of the story insisting he has it, we promise, just don’t think too hard about it.

Stop giving me characters who accept their destiny because God said so. Give me characters who fight tooth and nail for a destiny they discover on their own and I’ll root for them to succeed even more than someone compelled by force. Not everyone can be a chosen one, but everyone *can* choose themselves and decide to act.

—

With that said, I have an announcement! I have a new book in the works bereft of a prophecy-ordained hero. It’s time I put all my sagely writing wisdom to the test in a shiny published paperback myself. If you’ve learned anything from my blog in your writing journey, please subscribe for updates on the upcoming novel!

#chosen ones #character design #writing advice #character development #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #urban fantasy #scifi #harry potter #percy jackson #katniss everdeen #the hunger games

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha Sam

Word Count: 1417

*Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter

Warnings: A/B/O, non/con elements, dub/con elements, enslavement, pandemic, non/con drug use, collaring/leashing, forced mating, forced breeding, branding, BDSM elements, show-level violence

*Additional warnings to be added

Square filled: @spnabobingo non traditional alpha traits @spnkinkevents free space @j3bingo jewelry/piercing

A/N: * UPDATED 3/24 first three pasts of series

A/N II: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N III: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

PART IV

John read through the contract and had to admit that the Dealer was a stickler for details, continuing to the addendum that the original purchaser sold the O as-is to him for one dollar. 

Ignoring the still-fuming Dealer, John signed all three copies before handing them and the payment to an on-site notary who stamped the copies before handing one back to John, one to the suit with their monetary compensation, then disappeared with the last to finish registering the sale.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Winchester,” the suit says as they untether the twin and lead her out of the room. John placed his copy in his canvas jacket pocket and said, “I need the O cleaned up and dressed.” One of the Alphas reached into the cage, attached a cheap dog chain to the D ring on her collar, and used it to drag the O across the floor, dropping it at John's feet as Helms smirked. “Sorry, we would normally comply with your request if it were our merchandise you purchased. You have a nice day, Winchester.” 

They left John alone with his newly acquired property. He scooped up the unconscious O and was surprised at how light she felt, made his way through the open dock door of the building and spotted the Impala. When his sons climbed out, John issued orders.

 “Dean, get your ass over here and take your property. Sam, front seat with me.”

“There’s a clinic two blocks on the left, sir,” Sam says, climbing back into the Impala, cracking a disposable ice pack, and handing it over the seat to Dean, who places it over the O’s swollen eye. John's thankful it’s a short drive cause the mouth-breathing sounds filling the car were disturbingly similar to that Shtriga he’d hunted. 

Sam bolts out the door before John has the car in park, taking several deep breaths before opening the back door and helping Dean maneuver out with the unconscious O. 

The quartet enters the clinic, and a bored-looking receptionist slides a clipboard over without looking up, telling them to fill out both sides. They cross to the waiting area where John and Dean sit, automatically leaving the chair between them unoccupied. Sam mentally sighs and pulls his hoodie lower to keep his painfully hard cock hidden, sits, and starts mouth breathing again, making John growl and scribble faster before marching back to the receptionist.

Dean shifts the unresponsive girl, and Sam says in a strained voice, “Dude, she’s flashing everyone!” Dean sees his darting eyes peer down, noting the old army blanket gaped open, exposing the O’s breasts. He can’t help himself. “Look at you, Sammy, blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. So adorable.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Boys,” John interrupted, “Let's go.” Dean closed the blanket, followed him down the hall to an exam room, and placed the O on the table. “Wait outside the door, Dean. You too, Sam.”  A while later, smallish, fifty-something Beta with their nose in a file came towards them and finally noticed the two tall Alphas slouching by the doorway. Smelling his unsureness, Dean reassured them, “We don’t bite..usually.”

Clearing their throat, the Beta walked between them when Dean slapped his hand against the wall, creating a loud thwack that made them hurry into the room. “Not funny, man,” Sam chastised but couldn’t help grinning.

John insisted on remaining in the room during the examination, knew how these clinics worked, and wanted to be sure the O had no severe injuries or undisclosed maladies. 

“I don’t see your DNA ID on the intake paperwork.”

“DNA? What are you talking about?”

“There have been many fraudulent ownership claims in this state,” the doctor said as he did the exam. “For new registrations, all Alphas in the purchaser's immediate pack must submit their DNA ID number and to STD testing. I assume you were in service?” John affirmed he was. “Good, and your offspring? No? Okay, what state did your Omega whelp them in?” John frowned. “My mate was an Alpha.” 

“It’s almost unheard of for a female Alpha to have more than one pregnancy.” The doctor resumed the physical, noting a mild concussion, but her swollen eye was undamaged, and considering the extensive skin trauma, mainly on her back, she likely had bruised ribs, too. “As a precaution, I will administer fluids and a broad-spectrum antibiotic. I need your help with this part. Please move the O to the scale so I can see if its stats match the paperwork.”

The doctor and John, who’d guesstimated her height earlier, were shocked. Most O’s rarely hit five-four, and she was nearly six feet tall but was thirty pounds underweight. John laid the O back on the table, covered her with a warming blanket as the doctor hooked her to the IV, then collected the other samples from Winchesters except for the STD on Sam, who had to admit he was still a virgin. A tech arrived for the samples and handed the doctor some paperwork. “I see you purchased the O for your elder son, who’s not of age yet. Do you require any additional stipulations for registration?” 

“I want Sam to have proprietary rights in the event of my untimely death.” 

Dean peeks through the register office's doorway and sees a slightly chubby Beta in her late twenties sitting at the desk. She looks up, giving him an apprentice once-over, and chirpily inquires, “You with the O just brought in?" He responds snarkily. “You got a bunch of other O’s that just arrived?"  Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.” 

She hummed sympathetically and clicked the mouse, searching for something on the computer. "It’s alright. Things like this can be stressful, so I’ll try to get you through quickly. Help yourself to the coffee. It’s hot." Pouring a cup, Dean sipped it and grimaced. "Okay, here we are. Name?"

"Uh, Dean." He sat down, positioning himself to see out into the hallway, and heard the Betas' long nails tacketing-tacketing over the keys. "And will you be changing the name?" "Huh? Why the hell would I want to do that?” The Beta flinches at his tone. "It's a routine question. Some people don’t like the name of the O they’ve purchased, so they shorten or change it entirely.” It took him a second to catch up. “Oh, sorry. I'm Dean, and ahh, I don’t know what her name is." The tacketa-tacketa resumes. “Hmm, the O only has numerical identification. You could pick something neutral or a favorite nickname. How about leaving it for now? If or when you decide to change it, you can do it through any state registration center."

"Uhh, okay, let’s do that." 

"No problem. Now, has the O been branded yet?" Dean's hand firmly gripped the edge of the desktop. "What the fuck? That's a regular thing you do here!” Dean's loudness makes the Beta frown; she leans over, opens a side drawer, rifles around, and pulls out a pamphlet, pushing it toward him. Dean frowned at the title: Your New Omega and You: An Alpha's Guide to Handling and Training.

 "O branding is the traditional form of marking to deter theft and help with identification. North Dakota is one of a few states that mandate it but all others accept it. A sanctioned clinic, such as ours, uses a local anesthetic, so it’s quick and relatively painless. The unique symbol chosen for the individual owner will be on the lower back to not spoil their aesthetics.”  More tacketa-tack-tacketa. ‘We do piercing for free. Are you interested in having the O’s nipples, clitoral hood, or labia done?” Dean shakes his head negatively. “For low-income families, public assistance will generally cover breast augmentation or genital modification since it doesn't interfere with fertility.”

“Now, state law requires that if testing confirms that the O's are a non-viable carrier, we spay them. I am obligated to inform you this procedure can lead to malaise, but it reduces the chances of other diseases as they age. Since you’re not a resident, if you choose not to, we can provide a doctor's exemption certificate.”

“What kind of fucked-up Deliverance-style place is this? I am not authorizing any fucking modifications of any kind, you hear me!” The courteous attitude disappears. "I don’t appreciate your tone, sir,” as she resumed tacketa-tack-tacks on the keyboard. Dean wasn’t sure how much more he could take before he hit something.

Part V

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva   @lassie-bird   @nancymcl   @spnbaby-67   @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78  @deans-spinster-witch  @ilovetaquitosmmmm   @strawblueberrys

#winchester's folly #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #dystopia #dean x reader x sam #dean x reader #sam x reader #spn au #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #supernatural #alpha dean winchester #alpha sam winchester

[sophsicle]

Hi love

A lot of ppl on twt are saying not to read choices because of the use of sa and that Mary’s sa was only used as plot device, could you explain why you chose to include this in your fic?

I mean, I can, I have done this a lot and i'm a bit tired of it honestly, but

the very simple answer to this, is that, canonically, the only thing we know about Mary is that she was attacked by a bunch of death eater wannabes (Mulciber specifically) in her year

that is why Mary is attacked in Choices, it's canon.

why is it SA? because, in my experience, men, who feel entitled to respect and power, tend to use SA as a means of acquiring it.

it felt realistic to me.

i drew from a lot of experiences i have had, friends of mine have had, and just stuff that has happened around me. the way it's handled by Dumbledore, for example, is how my university handled a similar instance of girls being targeted by their male classmates

i tried to do it respectfully, i tried to make sure that it was about Mary, about her character, her experience as a Muggleborn in this society on the cusp of, essentially, a race war. I tried to make sure that James was not the hero of that story, and that Regulus wasn't able to walk away from it completely clean. I tried to make it complex.

in my opinion, people who have issues with it generally fall into two categories: 1) they are upset that James doesn't save the day. that James doesn't handle it perfectly, that he doesn't immediately cut Regulus out of his life once he realizes he was somehow involved, and therefore, they argue that I'm clearly saying that SA is somehow okay. I would hope that it is clear from Mary's chapter and her POVs that that's not what I was trying to do. I would hope that the fact that she never forgives James completely would also make that clear. And the fact that it's something both Regulus and James are haunted by until they die. i didn't want James to automatically know how to handle that situation, because he's a teenage boy, and i think he can care about Mary and still struggle with cutting Regulus off. like i don't know what other people's experiences are, but it is in fact very difficult to accept that the people you love can do bad things. it takes time. and again, i didn't want Mary's SA to be a moment for James Potter to be the hero. 2) people seem to just be upset that i wrote about SA in the first place. to which I say: fine, do not read it. but i think it is important to write about these topics. representation matters, showing how these things happen, showing how victims of SA are treated, how they feel, and process these things, how their relationships with their friends and families, and even with themselves, are altered by these experiences, i think is important. i TW all the chapters that dealt with it, i put it in the tags. if people don''t want to read about SA that is totally their prerogative, but they don't get to dictate what i do, their righteous anger is unjustified, and, quite frankly, the harassment i have gotten from them is vile and ironic since they are claiming that i am the one causing harm.

#soph rambles #choices #like just don't read it

[luvring]

Monster mhin headcannons???? Or just mhin headcannons in general I've been starving with the lack of mhin content lately

MHIN HCS 3

gn!reader | mhin time! :3 i'm going to let the knowledgeable and big brained people mostly take care of monster mhin bc I fear a girl like me is silly and less capable...

as for my limited monster thoughts it'd be nice if their first transformation was done to protect you rather than an involuntary thing and letting it act as a symbol for your growing relationship. but Who Knows at this point

i assume there's some level of lost conscience when they transform So if there's a scene where some part of them refrains from hurting you I Will Start Eating Tree Bark.

Oh...and a scene where they've transformed back and you try to help them...them flinching and confused (though their voice comes out angry? frustrated? at first) about why you haven't run away....letting you cover them and bandage their injuries... 😵‍💫

moving on. they're on the verge of if not threatening people when it comes to co-op games like pico park or heave ho, especially if they're playing with people like vere and ais. no one's ever heard them speak this much someone needs to get them out of there

window seat enjoyer :-)

secretly enjoys when you send posts that remind you of them. the first few times they're like ? what do i do with this. but learn to appreciate it even if they don't actually reply in chat (sometimes if you're like "this is u" and it's Too accurate mhin's like Can you stop no it isn't (yes it is))

"when you're complaining about someone and your best friend is meaner" or however that trend goes. that's them. very direct with saying that person sounds like shit and you should stop talking to them

mhin may not like big, loud festivals, but i think they'd enjoy celebrating things with you alone ^^ maybe eating their favourite dish (tang yuan?)....it'd mean a lot to have someone to share with again

also!! having it for the first time and them mentioning their family and the last time they had it with people... the intimacy of it all...

and !! they reciprocate it!! they do!! they take note of any festivities you say you like, especially one that you wish you could celebrate or haven't in a long time. whether it's cultural, your birthday, your pet's birthday—mhin plans something for you and 'offers' to spend time together that day if you'd like. 'offers' as in shows up and mentions they'll be free some time in the conversation

^ more for the beginning of a relationship (platonic or romantic)... it'll take time, they'd be more direct eventually!

they care for you quietly and by...noticing. folding your laundry and putting it away when they know you're busy. picking up your favourite snacks when they notice you're running out. automatically getting ready to catch you or pull you back when the time calls for it. watching you from across the room at a party and noting where you are and how long you've been gone. that kind of deal

mhin's wary and off-put by being spoiled, but if you're stubborn enough, you'll find them using whatever you got pretty regularly. for example they'll tell you they don't Need a new softer comfier blanket, theirs is Fine, but then the one you buy is the only one they ever want to use. they will pretend like it isn't a big deal if you try to tease them about it

they don't like reading things online and would rather have a physical book. not that i'm projecting or anything of course. they take care of them too and don't lend them to just anybody

i think mhin has actual bookmarks, or would at least like them. they might also use a receipt to mark their page but won't fold the corners...

they always put books back where they found them at the library/book store. if they find one in the wrong section, they'll put it in the right place themself

they can get upset, but don't cry super easily, but that's mostly because they've gotten used to suppressing their emotions. they do their best to channel it into anger instead

mhin isolating themself when they're upset,, conflicted over wanting to be happy and letting themself drown in the sadness. but in the end they hope and survive and will continue to do so

hmm... keeps information of their family and history close to them, but at some point i do think they'd (bittersweetly) share stories with quiet fondness

mhin seems like a silver jewelry kind of person but i just think they'd look really nice with gold earrings while pushing their hair behind their ear...

they see You in formal attire for the first time and keep trying to glance at you the entire night btw. they might not take initiative to compliment you, but if you ask if you look alright, they'll say yes you look nice

...? likes earphones more than headphones. can't tell you why i feel this way

light sleeper. i think. they always know when you can't sleep and they'll stay up with you. if you say you'll go sleep somewhere else so you don't bother them, they're like ..? no.

...affectionate mhin....NOOOOO... it takes so long for them to reach that point it's literally like when a cat finally trusts you and lies next to you/on your lap You Cannot Move Now. You're both obligated to stay here and don't Want to do Anything else.

like imagine cuddling them and they hug you back and their grip tightens in their sleep when you shift around. mhin burying their face into your neck and taking a deep breath. please

if you're an introvert and you both finally get home after a long day out, it's just like. Thank god. and i think they'd understand if you'd rather spend time alone to recover ^^ but depending on the crowd there will be a gossip/complaint session at some point

mhin is one of the top LI's for me when it comes to scenes of like, fixing their collar/clothes. the intimacy of them clasping your necklace, the tension and bated breath because you've never been this close. the surprise on their face when you reach to fix their hood etc.

they enjoy sneaking up on you. they end up in some corner of the room and while you're scanning the crowd to look for them, they suddenly speak from behind you. there's a hint of an amused smile when you jump

@semifilms @mitskiologist @sweet-milky-tea705 hiii

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #mhin #mhin x reader #thinking of kyo from fruits basket transformation... being recognized and loved despite it all....NAOOOOOO

[ultra-raging-ghost]

Im real nervous main tagging this because ive said my main peace and i dont wanna clog the tag up, but i will say after some context given i have a couple more thoughts?

tw// SA, r//pe mention, etc.

This will be a controversial statement. Me personally, i dont really honestly care? About what he said? It was eight years ago and he hasnt repeated the actions so i dont honestly and truly care what he did eight years ago, he was 19 then hes like 26 now theres honestly and truly a BIG maturity distance between 19 and 26, but also it was. Eight years ago? Thats all i have to say on that?

I Also dont really care for how it was brought to light, from what ive heard from pt speakers the expose was done by someone whos publicly anti towards the Brazilian CCs and ive heard they've dug up some dumb things about pac that werent "hot" enough to get trending i guess and definitely werent condemnable enough to get him cancelled, so it's honestly and truly in my heart something i see as being done in bad faith.

Alongside this, ive seen translation screenshots from one of the "victims" (not sure her stance on being called this so its in quotes) stating she does NOT want to be aligned with these allegations and has changed her username and profile picture because she honestly doesnt wanna be involved and doesnt want it being spread around, this is something else i view as bad faith and if anyone was affected by this then its the best thing to do as they wish, this not only affects the person being called out but also their victim negatively, especially if the victims profile is easily attached to their real life and especially when the victim is a female victim of assault or rape or anything like that, i hate to say it but as an afab person ive seen it firsthand that thats honestly the culture surrounding assault victims, and most people dont want that being brought up or put out in the public. Im a victim myself - people view you differently, it affects platonic and romantic relationships, it affects jobs, you are actively hurting the victim by spreading this if they dont want you to do so and arent prepared for that to be spread around.

From what ive seen, some people are condemning Forever for getting a lawyer - i dont view this as him being automatically guilty. I view this as him getting a lawyer because this person on twitter has been actively harassing not just him but all the brazilian CCs on the QSMP. This is harassment, the case against them will hold up in court and Forever has said he will speak about this more when everything is said and done

Alongside this, i will say im unhappy with Forever specifically for his statement on the situation. It wasnt handled the way we wouldve liked it, but it also wasnt handled via ukelele, it wasnt handled the worst way it could've been. Ive heard pt speakers say it was kind of formal, there was some slang in there but overall i've read the translated statement and to me it sounds more like a legal statement than anything - he mentioned having a lawyer, chances are the lawyer helped him write it. To me it doesnt sound like anything he'd fully say which is why i was so put off by it at first but this makes more sense to me honestly, i dont know if anyone would agree with this.

TL;DR

All in all, i think its a shitty situation but nothing to condemn Forever over. I ask people be thoughtful regarding the girl affected, and dont spread shit around with her name or profile attached to it unless she states otherwise. It was handled badly on Forever's end and blew up WAY too fast on twitter.

I've generally seen people be well behaved on here, ive seen some strong statements but otherwise i like to think we're better than twitter.

This probably wont be my last post on this as we get more on the situation over the next couple days, but this is my main thoughts right now. I'm still choosing to remain neutral, but more mixed than anything.

#qsmp #the forever situation #forever player g

[604to647]

Mi Galleta (Part 2 - White Chocolate Macadamia)

7.5K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Pero helps you out with a sticky situation at the restaurant and you get to know him better.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), very minor angst, unwanted physical touching (not from Pero), petnames (Cookie, baby, princesa, etc.), kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV (discussed), cum eating, reader can wear Pero's jacket and it's long on her, Biker!Pero comes with his own warning.

A/N: I don't know anything about bikes! (Also does anyone have any non-dark biker romance book recs?) Series Masterlist

Pero doesn’t call.  Or text.  Not that night.  Or over the weekend.  By the time the work week rolls around, you make a vow to yourself that you won’t go to visit him during the day unless he does, and consequently you don’t go at all.

Feeling a little hurt, you wonder if maybe you made a bit too much out of what you thought was mutual flirtation.  It was his job, after all, to make it hard to gain access to the restaurant; perhaps he thought that your time together and all your efforts with the cookies and lunches were just a means to an end, and that once you were successful, desire on either of your parts to interact should cease.  That thought makes you even sadder; even though you were trying to find a way upstairs, your daily meet ups with Pero had become more - you had liked him.  He was gruff for sure, but you had enjoyed getting to know him and the discovery that he seemed to be softer than he appeared.  You had thought he enjoyed getting to know you as well.

“I’m sorry he didn’t call, babe,” Dorothy laments, giving you a big hug.

“It’s okay,” you pout, crushed, “…maybe I read too much into it.”

“You’re always so sweet, giving people the benefit of the doubt,” says Eloise, “He really ought to have messaged.”

“Do you think… you would be up for going to Lin?  To eat and drink, I mean,” Dorothy asks, sheepishly.

“Dorothy!!” exclaims Eloise, “We agreed not to-”

“Not to what?” you ask, curious.

The two women look at each other; Eloise looking exasperated and Dorothy trying to look innocent. “Okay, out with it,” you grin.

“So… you know how my friends from college are coming in from out of town this weekend?  I thought… it might be nice to take them to Lin!  It’s this super hot restaurant, still so exclusive, and the food was soooo good last week!  We all loved it!  And they have that extended cocktails list we said we wanted to try, remember?  I feel like it would be such a perfect place to take them!” Dorothy finishes in a hurry.

“You’re right,” you say softly.  You would have given Pero a similar rave review if you had had a chance, “They would love it.  You should totally take them there.”

“The thing is…” Dorothy chews her lower lip, which is generally a sign that she knows she’s about to ask something completely unreasonable, “… we still don’t know how to get it.  Just because we got in once, does that mean we automatically get in again?  Regardless… our chances of getting in or even just finding out how to are probably better if… you’re there?” 

Eloise shoots Dorothy a death glare.

“…but if you rather not see the bouncer guy… it’s totally okay,” Dorothy adds on quickly.

You sigh, but it’s not one of exasperation but of indulgence.  You know if you refuse, the girls would truly let it go, never holding it against you.  But… it’s also such a simple thing for you to do, you can’t really find it within yourself not to acquiesce.  You’ve always been this way: not a people pleaser per say (it’s not in your nature to do anything that truly makes you uncomfortable or against your character), but genuinely happy to extend yourself for others.  If you were to really analyze things, it’s probably that deep down you feel that with the advantages you’ve been afforded, your true grievances in life are little to none; the little things that may be troublesome to you are nothing compared to life’s real misfortunes that you’ve been lucky enough to have avoided.  Why not help if you can, your grateful heart always asks.

And, it’s not like you have to see Pero for more than a minute or two. 

“Ok, we can go,” you smile.  The way Dorothy’s face breaks into an expression of pure joy confirms for you that you’re doing a good thing.  Eloise is a little more cautious; she triple-checks with you later that you’re sure, and you reassure her that you really, truly are.

Pero recognizes Dorothy right away when she strides into the building lobby.  She’s heading up a good-sized group, maybe seven or eight people, and he’s hoping that you’re among the crowd.  As the rest of the party starts to file into the elevator bank, his heart leaps when he sees you bringing up the rear. 

You make brief eye contact with Pero as you pass his desk; the look in your eyes unreadable, but he thinks they’re missing a brightness he’s used to.  Pero wants to talk to you, ask you how you’ve been.  Tell you it’s only been a week but he’s missed you.  Apologize for not calling.  But then he sees Paul’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you after the group.  As he follows, he can’t take his eyes off the sway of your hips and the way this guy is touching you with such familiarity.  Who is this guy, anyways?  Is he your date?  Your boyfriend?

Seething, he reaches in the elevator to swipe the fob and press the button to the restaurant floor, keeping eye contact with you as he wordlessly steps back out into the hall.  You can’t look away from Pero either; you’re not sure if this is the scowl he normally wears to maintain his bouncer authority or if he’s genuinely displeased.

“Man, I’d love a mindless, easy job.  Thanks, pal,” chirps Paul.

You nearly snap your neck turning your head so quickly, unbelieving of Dorothy’s old classmate’s rudeness.  It seems that everyone but Paul takes notice of your horrified expression; you turn to face Pero again, hopefully conveying an apologetic look as the elevator doors close.

---

Pero decides he’s done for the evening.  He calls in someone to cover the rest of his shift and goes upstairs to clock out.  He saw via the computer that you and your friends have been seated in a private room, and he’s sure that you’re in for a fun night of cocktails and good food, maybe even some dancing – he’s not in the mood to see you come downstairs after a night a reverie with that smarmy guy hanging all over you.  Who the hell was that asshole?

Getting his backpack, Pero exchanges his suit jacket for a motorcycle jacket before going by the kitchens to say goodnight to the kitchen and wait staff.  That’s when he spots you.  You’ve tucked yourself against the wall at the very end of the kitchen serving window where the overhang of the counter creates a little nook you’re sinking into.  Pero watches you play on your phone, periodically looking up and scanning the hallway that leads back to the dining room, and that’s when he realizes you’re hiding here.  He can’t think of anything down this way for restaurant goers: there are no patron washrooms, and you don’t appear to be in need of any assistance – there are plenty of staff coming and going but you haven’t made any movement to flag anyone down for help.

Pero takes a moment to admire how beautiful you look tonight; maybe even prettier than he remembers.  Despite not knowing where the two of you stand, he doesn’t think he can pass up this opportunity to speak to you; and although he’s finding your somewhat squirrely behaviour to be adorable, he tells himself that it’s his gentlemanly duty to make sure you’re okay.  Never mind that the dress you’re wearing is doing wonders for your curves, and absolutely nothing for his self control. 

“How come you’re hiding by the kitchen?��

Surprised by Pero’s sudden appearance, you answer a little bit haughtier than you intend, “I’m not hiding!”

“You are!” He can’t help but be playful with you, “Why else would you be tucked away down this-” Pero cuts himself off; he’s just noticed that you’re fidgeting with the hemline of your dress, and not just tugging it down, but wrapping your fingers around a large piece of torn fabric, “How did your dress get ripped?”

You look up at him, eyes wide; you didn't realize it was that noticeable.

“Who did that, Cookie?” Pero’s voice is tight, barely masking his anger, but his eyes are soft, full of concern, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly you don’t care that he didn’t call - Pero’s here now and he looks like he’s about to kill someone for you; maybe that’s why you drop the hem of your dress and reach for him.  When your hand connects with his chest, it feels so solid and comforting; your body automatically follows, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head against his chest.  Though caught off guard by your actions, Pero instinctively takes you into his arms, pulling you in close; he brings his lips to your hair and rubs your back soothingly.

“What happened, Cookie?” he asks again when you pull away to look at him with your beautiful, shining eyes, “Who do I have to hurt?”

“Don’t hurt anyone, please.  It’s not worth it,” you lay your head back on Pero’s chest.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You nod, but you seem tired.

“There’s a little terrace where some of us go to take breaks, you want to talk there?” Pero offers.  A quiet spot sounds lovely to you.

Pero keeps his arms encircled protectively around you as he guides you past the kitchens, through what looks like the staff locker room and lounge and onto an adjoining terrace, “No one will bother you here, Cookie.  I promise.”  You sigh comfortably as you take a seat on the patio seating; Pero takes the suit jacket he was wearing earlier out from his backpack and drapes it over your shoulders.

You smile at him gratefully, his presence alone relaxing you.  Pero waits for you to tell him what happened; he doesn’t press or push, just sits across from you and holds your small hands in his.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, you feel finally comfortable enough to fill Pero in, “The group I’m with tonight, most of them are Dorothy’s friends from college.  They’re fun and nice enough, but there’s this one guy that’s always been a bit handsy.”

Pero’s eyes darken as you continue, “Dorothy, Eloise and I call it ‘octopus hands’.  Just always touching and trying to grab.  Suckers for hands practically. He’s been like this every time we get together with that group, which thankfully is not very often.  Anyways, I had had enough of having to dodge him, so I pushed him away… he grabbed onto my dress and it ripped.  It was an accident.”  You shrug, as if describing the actions of a petulant child.

“And you were hiding from him because you think he might try something?  Get aggressive?”  If he were an animal, you would definitely describe Pero’s hackles as being up. 

You chuckle, “No, I told you I’m not hiding!  I’m avoiding the room.  It’s totally different.”

“Is that so?” smiles Pero.

“I’m trying to avoid the room because I don’t want to try to act like I’m not pissed.  Pretend like things are cool, because that feels annoying to do and I probably won’t be able to do a very good job at it if I’m being honest.  And then there would be a scene,” you say, making a face.

“You don’t think Dorothy will take your side?”

You wave off this concern, “Oh no, I’m not worried about that.  She’s got my back.  And I’ll definitely tell her about it, but I don’t think it’s the right time right now: in front of other people that are friends with Paul, and where everyone has been drinking.  I’d rather not put myself or Dorothy in that position.”

Pero admires the care you’re showing for your friends; if you appeared more upset or avoidant of what had happened, he might gently push you to ignore their feelings and give yourself more consideration.  As it is, you seem fairly in control of your feelings and the situation, so he doesn’t push.

“So, I was just waiting by the kitchens and thought I would go back in with our food when it was ready.  That way I would have something to focus on… instead of punching him in the face,” you finish.

“I’d like to have seen that,” grins Pero, “Is this the same guy who was touching you in the elevator?  The one who wanted an ‘easy job’?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry about that, Pero.  That was so unbelievably offensive, I was ready to sock him then.  Yeah, that’s Paul.  I’m sorry,” you look pained at the memory of Paul’s rudeness.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Cookie.  Glad to know that’s not the kind of guy you go for.”

“Nope,” you scrunch you nose up good-naturedly, “I only go for guys who take my number but don’t ever text or call.”

“Oh princesa, I’m so sorry.  I wanted to text, I really tried… I can’t find your number in my phone,” Pero looks down, embarrassed.

“What do you mean?”

Pero unlocks his phone and holds it out opened to the Contacts app, “I looked under your name, then I tried ‘Cookie’, then I just started looking for different cookies: Chocolate Chip, Sugar, Ginger Molasses… I couldn’t find you.”

You take the phone from him and look at him dubiously but ultimately decide that he’s being sincere, “I put it under the cookie emoji.”

“The emoji? Where is it?” Pero really couldn’t look more confused.

Scrolling to the bottom of his contacts list, you show him it’s under ‘#’ and you when you pull it up, the top of the screen displays the silly selfie you took as the contact photo.

“Oh, Cookie… I feel so dumb.  I’m sorry,” Pero looks so much like a dog that’s been scolded that you soften and forgive him immediately. “I should have just texted you right away when you gave it to me,” he types out a quick message and sends it with a whoosh. 

When the notification comes in, you look down at your phone:  I’m sorry.  Forgive me, Cookie? :(

You laugh so hard.  Who would have thought that the scary bouncer with the menacing scar over his eye could be so adorable.  And sweet.  And protective.  And hot.  Your body moves with a mind of its own; to answer his question, you close the space between the two of you and kiss him.

Pero doesn’t know how it’s possible, but your lips are sweeter than your cookies.  He kisses you back softly at first, a gentle introduction of your mouths as he becomes increasingly familiar with the plush feel of your lips, the curve of your soft smile.  When your mouth relaxes into a sigh, followed by an oh, he presses deeper, tongue seeking an invitation; as you open up for him, he pulls you closer and lets his tongue do the talking, saying all the words that he wasn’t able to this past week.  Your hands wrap around his neck and thread through Pero’s hair as you let out a soft hum of contentment; Pero smiles at the sound and strokes your tongue with his a few more times before pulling off your lips, chasing after them with a couple of light pecks.  Opening your eyes, you answer with a flutter of soft kisses to the corner of his upturned mouth before snuggling in under his jaw, “You’re forgiven.”

“Do you want to get out of here, princesa?”

You begin to nod but then stop yourself, “Oh, I would love to, Pero, but… I already ordered and I wouldn’t want that food to go to waste.  Also, do you think I could just pay for it separate so I don’t stick the others with the bill?  Still… it would be a waste.  I hate food waste.  Plus, I can’t just ghost Dorothy and Eloise… I have to at least say good bye…”

“What did you order?” Pero asks, simply.

“The Chilean sea bass.  Oooh noooo… just thinking about it is making my mouth water.  Ok, I’ll admit it, I don’t want to leave because I want to eat it so badly,” you joke.

“Will you let me take care of it, Cookie?”  You nod even though you don’t know what he means to do.

“I’ll be 5-10 minutes, you can stay out here or in the lounge if you want.  No need to hide by the kitchen.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” you smile as Pero bends down to kiss you lightly.

“Fine, you can avoid in here if you want.  I’ll be back soon, hermosa,” and he leaves before you can ask about this new nickname that he’s added to the ever-growing roster.

When Pero is gone, you check your phone and see a few messages from the girls:

Where did you go?

Are you okay?

Was Paul being weird?

You type back a quick response: I’m fine!  Yes, he was being a weirdo!  But Pero found me, so…

A string of exclamation points and celebratory gif responses come in in quick succession.  You’re giggling and typing out responses as fast as you can when Pero returns with a heavy paper bag in his hand, “It’s all taken care of, princesa.”

You peek in the bag while Pero puts on his backpack, “I didn’t order all that.”

“I have to eat too, you know,” Pero pretends to scowl at you before kissing you quickly, “plus there’s a few appies and a dessert thrown in there, too.”

“Can… I pay?” It looks like a full feast.

“Don’t worry about it, Cookie.  Staff perk.” 

Not sure you believe him, you look at Pero skeptically, but he cups your face with his hands and strokes your cheek gently before giving you a deep kiss that leaves you dizzy, so you decide to just go with it.

“Ready to go say goodbye to your friends?”  Nodding, you take Pero’s outstretched hand; he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before leading you back to the dining room your friends are in. 

When you walk through the door, Pero drops your hand in favour of curling his palm around your waist protectively and walking a step behind you like a watchful guard dog.  You can only imagine the glower on his face as the room quiets and everyone stares at you; you would roll your eyes and laugh if not for the fact that you see Paul get up from his seat, only to sit down immediately with one glare from Pero. 

“I’m going to go, babes,” you say apologetically when Dorothy and Eloise come to give you hugs.  They both give you big smiles and so many kisses, never begrudging you for leaving – their only request that you promise to text when you make it home.  Blowing them kisses and waving to everyone, even Paul, you breeze out of the room tucked under Pero’s arm with his lips pressed to your hair. 

In the elevator on the way down, Pero helps you button up his jacket that you still have draped over your shoulders before pulling you in by his collar for another searing kiss that lasts the entire way to the ground floor; still light headed from his affection, it takes you a moment to register that he’s walking you towards to a sports bike parked just outside the doors.  Pero is pulling a black bike helmet out of his backpack when you stutter, “We’re going on that?”

“You ever been on a bike before, Cookie?” Pero smirks.

You shake your head, shyly, “Just scooters and stuff… never… a crotch rocket.”

Pero laughs uproariously, “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”  And you believe him.

Taking a walk around the bike, you can’t help but admire its sleek design as you run your fingers over the letters on the front frame.  Even though the engine is off, you can feel the bike’s power emanating off the metal; you don’t know anything about bikes, but you can appreciate a well-designed machine when you see one.  You can tell that a lot of care and time has been poured into this vehicle - loving upkeep and carefully selected mods (even though you have no idea what those would be); this motorcycle is clearly a labour of love and you’re starting to feel excited about getting to take a ride on it.  Pero watches you as you take in his bike, appreciating the way your gentle fingers skim over the frame, the handlebars, and then the seat of his Ducati; he spies the glint in your eyes go from trepidation, to awe, to excitement and suddenly he can’t wait to take you out on the open road.

“How do I get on?” 

Pero points to the little foot peg over the back wheel and holds out his arm to help you up.  You’re incredibly grateful for the extra coverage from the length of Pero’s jacket as you grab a hold of Pero’s steady forearm, hike up your left leg to step on the foot peg and swing yourself over the backseat as you would a horse.  Planting your foot firmly on the peg on the other side of the bike, you immediately close your legs; you’re almost thankful for the rip in your dress since it provides you with a little more give to spread you legs over the smooth back seat slant without flashing everyone on the street.  As it is, your dress is hiked up near the top of your thighs and you’re depending on the flaps of Pero’s jacket for some semblance of modesty.  Pero is kneeling next to the bike putting the food in his backpack when he sees you drop your foot from the peg and let your bare leg dangle down, lightly swinging it without your heels ever touching the ground.  He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything sexier in his whole life.  You’re using both your hands to hold your dress to the seat, leaning forward following the natural decline of the seat and smiling broadly at him, “Where are we going?”

Straightening up, Pero grins, “I can take you anywhere you like, princesa.  If you want to go home and have dinner by yourself, I’ll take you.  But if you’re up for it, we can go to a nice terrace with a view and have ourselves a little picnic?”

You nod at that option and bite your lip a little at how cute Pero looks as he puts on his backpack so it sits on his front like a baby carrier.  Then he does something a little unexpected: he reaches out with his helmet in both hands and holds it over your head, “Cookie, I only have one helmet, so this will have to do, okay?”  When you nod, Pero slowly lowers the helmet over your head then pops open the visor so you can still see him as he adjusts the strap under your chin.  It’s not bad but there’s definitely a little room for your head to wobble around; the inside of the helmet smells vaguely like Pero’s cologne and you feel a warmth spread through you as breath his scent in – when Pero leans back to inspect his handiwork, you give a little giggle and wobble you head around, “I’m a bobblehead.”

Pero laughs and reaches in through the visor opening to pinch your nose, “Ok, when we’re riding, keep your legs on the pegs and hold on to me tight, okay?  If anything’s wrong, tap my arm, and if you want me to slow down, tap my leg.  Ready?”

You give him a big smile that you’re not sure he can see and an enthusiastic thumbs up; before Pero flips down the helmet visor, he definitely sees your bright eyes shining with excitement.  Even though he knows you’re perfectly capable, he makes a show of helping raise your leg up and placing your foot back on the foot peg.  One of his strong hands holds onto your ankle while the other gently runs up your calf and brushes your knee, sending a shiver down your spine.  When Pero repeats the action with your other leg, you let him have complete control to handle and position you any way he wants and he feels his crotch start with how good it feels to have you soft and pliant in his hands.  Once satisfied with your positioning, Pero skates his hand up your thigh, skirting your raised hemline, and when he gives you a light squeeze to let you know he’s done, you inhale sharply and clench down on nothing. 

After Pero swings his leg over the frame of the bike and puts on his gloves, he waits for you to wrap your arms securely around his middle before starting the ignition.  As the bike roars to life, you give a little squeal of delight that Pero can hear even through the helmet and he smiles to himself.  Revving the engine a few times for effect, he takes off carefully but still feels you grip him tighter as you’re jerked back slightly; he can’t say he’s sorry.  Picking up speed as he weaves through the streets, he feels you rest your helmet on his upper back and his chest swells at how easily you’re taking to riding.

After about 15 minutes, Pero pulls up to another office building and cuts the engine.  Helping you take off the helmet, he finds you giddy with a big smile on your face; as you smooth down your hair, you exclaim, “That was so much fun!!”  The ride had been thrilling; you know Pero wasn’t going that fast for your sake, but you found the rush of the wind blowing past you and the freedom and danger of being so open on the road to be exhilarating all on its own.  The hum of the engine had been an unexpected comfort and the vibrations of motor reverberating through you had kept you alert and excited throughout your short journey.  Not to mention that being so close to Pero and his warmth, sinking in to the feeling of security he provides, has you turned on and tingling.  Finding your enthusiasm infectious, Pero helps you off the bike and leads you up to the building to which he gains access with a swipe of a fob he produces from his jacket pocket.

“You have one of those fobs for every building in the city?” you tease.

Pero puts his finger to his lips, “Restaurant industry secret, shhhhh,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

A short elevator ride later, Pero brings you to an empty terrace with a beautiful view of the city lights; you gaze around in awe as he starts laying out the food.

It’s a wonderfully romantic dinner.  The conversation flows easily, and you learn a little more about your grouchy bouncer.  You’re only initially surprised to learn that William, the restaurant manager and sometimes host, is Pero’s best friend, and that the two of them have worked together for years at various different restaurants.  Remembering William’s easy smile and friendly demeanor from when he sat your party both of the times you’ve dined at Lin, you giggle at the obvious dichotomy between the two friends.  If only potential restaurant patrons knew that big golden retriever energy awaited them at the end of the elevator ride should they make it past the scary Cerebus downstairs.  When Pero asks you what you’re laughing at, you simply ask him if he and William have always worked their current roles; apparently not - they both started out as bus boys and worked their way through the kitchen, though Pero’s never had the inclination to work front of house the way William has.  “You don’t say,” you jest, to which Pero gives you his most fearsome glare.  You’re not the least bit intimidated, especially when he follows up with the gentlest forehead kiss.

Between bites of the mouthwatering sea bass, you’re happy to discover that in addition to a common love of food, you and Pero have also both travelled extensively; to your mutual delight, you realize that somehow, you’ve eaten at some of the same restaurants in Europe and Asia.  When you both claim to know the best udon shop in Toyko, you agree to say the name at the same time - doubling over in laughter when you both name the same hole-in-the-wall in Shinjuku.  Throughout the easy flowing conversation, Pero finds ways to stay close and you welcome his every touch: a caress of your hair near the ear, a stroke of your knee under the table, a kiss to your hand.  With the sun now fully set and the chilly evening air giving you goosebumps, Pero pulls you close to his side - tucking your bare legs in between his to keep you warm as you finish dessert.  Pero looks into your eyes with longing as you both savour the last bites of the rich lychee flavoured flan.  When he helps wipe away an errant sugar smudge near the corner of your mouth with his thumb, he brings his face so close to yours that you’re caught short of breath.  He really is so handsome, you think before his mouth descends on yours and you get lost in the way he licks and softly groans into you.  Your tongue chases his as you open for him, and you gasp when Pero, palm under your ass, pulls you into his lap fully one handedly. 

Wrapping you arms around Pero’s neck to run your hands through his hair, you moan as his hands roam your back, pulling you closer against him still.  The kissing is downright urgent: a mirage of open mouths, panting, devouring.  Needing air, and a break if you’re honest with how close you are to just sinking down on him on this terrace, you bite down on Pero’s lower lip and nibble a little before murmuring, “Pero, please take me home.”

Pero’s eyes never leave you the entire time the two of you pack away the containers and make your way back to his bike, his look dark and wanting.  If he takes his time helping you on the bike, letting his hands trail up and down your legs, eyes lingering on yours before he flips down the visor, who can blame him.  If you press yourself tight against his back while he weaves through the streets, inching your hands lower and lower on his torso, seeking out his upper thigh for purchase when he accelerates, who can blame you.

By the time Pero parks in front of your building, the thrill of the ride and the hum of the bike between your legs has only amplified your want; you’re positively dripping for him.  You can barely keep your hands to yourself on the elevator ride up and Pero is on top of you the moment your front door closes.  Your hands fly to take off his jacket, his shirt, reaching down to frantically unbutton his pants without shame; stopped only when he insists on undressing you first, growling, “Need to take this dress off, hermosa.  Don’t want you wearing anything another man has touched for a minute longer.”

You step right in Pero’s space, locking desperate eyes with him as he reaches behind you to undo your zipper; he drags it down slower than necessary, drawing out the process.  When you whine at how long it’s taking, Pero chuckles, “Patience, princesa,” before pulling the zipper down the rest of the way and letting the fabric slip over your shoulders and pool around your feet.

“Holy shit, Cookie,” Pero breathes as he takes in your matching black lace lingerie set, “I think my heart just stopped.”  Suddenly shy under his gaze, you turn away to lead him to the bedroom, but he stops you and pulls you back so suddenly you crash into his chest.  Holding you flushed against him by a strong hand on the back of your neck, Pero uses his free hand to tip your chin up to look at him, murmuring, “You’re so beautiful,” before kissing you like his life depends on it.  His lips crush to yours, tongue mapping every slope and dip of your mouth, his one hand now gently gripping your neck under your jaw - caging you within his hands so that you’re left to the mercy of his desire.  One rough palm moves down your body to explore all your soft curves, lightly groping and claiming all the spots that make you moan into his mouth.  Pero walks you slowly to the couch in the middle of your living room so gradually you don’t even notice until the back of your legs hit the cushions.  He releases you at this same moment so that the soft impact has you toppling back, sat on the couch with a light bounce; you can only watch with lust hooded eyes as Pero lowers himself down to the floor onto his knees in front of you. 

“Pero,” you whisper, needy.

“I’ve got you, princesa,” breath hot, Pero kisses down your neck, hands holding your legs open so he can slot his wide frame between, getting as close to your body as possible. 

“Ohhhh, god, Pero… baby,” you whimper as his mouth worships your neck, nipping at your décolletage, then licking a wet stripe down to the valley between your breasts.  When his hands abandon their grip on your thighs to trail up, cupping your breasts, you can’t help but buck into his abdomen, seeking more of him.  Face buried in your chest, Pero chuckles, “Such an eager, pretty girl.  Tell me what you need, Cookie.”

Pulling down the cups of your lace bra so that your tits spill out, Pero gropes you roughly before his fingers zero in your nipples, alternating rolling, pinching and tugging on your peaks in an excruciating delicious pattern.  Smiling devilishly at you, “I’m waiting, princesa.”

“Fuc- oh, Pero, please.  Please.  Need your mouth, please,” you plead, desperation lacing every word. 

Without warning, Pero dips his head to take a breast in his mouth, and you gasp in pleasure, hands flying to bury themselves in his hair to grip his soft curls as his nibbles and swirls your hardened nipple.  Back arching off the back of the couch, you try to muffle you moans as Pero’s efforts with his mouth and hands electrify you to your core, heat pooling in your underwear. 

“Don’t do that, hermosa.  Want to hear you, want to hear what I do to you,” Pero comes off your breast with an obscenely wet smack of his lips before switching over to your neglected breast, his hand taking over for where his mouth left off.

“OH!  Pero, feels so good!  Right there, oh, ow!  Oh god, yessss,” the sting of Pero’s attention on your peaks only adding to your ecstasy.  Pero uses your lifted back to his advantage, his free hand now able to claw down your spine, grabbing and massaging your ass.  Having his hands so close to your pussy is sending you out of your mind; Pero’s hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once and you don’t know what to focus on.  It’s almost too much and you gently push him away so you can catch your breath; the dopey, shit-eating grin he gives you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. 

He does know, and Pero’s damn proud of it.  He’s never seen anything sexier in his life than you splayed out in front of him with eyes glassy from near over stimulation, tits pulled out of your bra and lightly bouncing as you pant, all while you pussy tries to grind down onto him for some friction.  He’s rock hard and he hasn’t even tasted you yet. 

Pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, swollen from where you bit them to keep yourself from crying out, Pero moves back slightly so he can admire you some more.  He can’t believe he’s here right now, that he gets to be the one that makes you feel this good; another smaller, possessive part of him triumphs that Paul never stood a chance - that you were always going to be his tonight.  And now he’s about to show you he’s worthy.

When you look back down at Pero with a lazy grin, breathing more even, Pero presses forward, “I’m going to taste you now, okay Cookie?”  Your soft ‘yes, please’, is all Pero needs to hear before he dives forward towards your dripping core.  Pressing hungry kisses over your panties, Pero growls when he feels the soaked through fabric on his tongue, “So fucking wet, princesa.  Is this all for me?”  All you can do is moan in assent as Pero continues to make out with your pussy.  His mouth never leaving you, Pero tugs off your underwear; tossing the wet scrap of lace aside to reveal your glistening cunt.  Running his fingers through your folds to spread your arousal up and over your clit, he takes a moment to drink in your near pornographic sounds before he lowers his mouth and positively feasts. 

You’re entire being feels like it’s been lit up.  Pero’s tongue presses against your seam, dipping in and out, teasing you with broad strokes and indulgent swirls.  His nose nudges at your clit over and over, as his entire head moves up and down, focused only on bringing you pleasure.  You think he’s giving you a break to collect yourself when he butterfly kisses up to your now throbbing clit, but reprieve is the furthest thing from Pero’s mind.  Just as you’re crying out his name in a heavenly melody, he breaches your tight hole with two of his thick fingers and seals your clit in between his lips and sucks.  You squirm, trying to get away from the sudden onslaught, but Pero lays his other arm across your stomach to hold you down so that all you can do is take, take, take.

“I-I-. I’m so close, Pero.  Ohhhh nghhhh, baby, ohhh, so c-close,” you’re simpering, eyes closed and head thrown back, desperate for more while simultaneously sure you can’t handle it. 

“Open your eyes, princesa.  Eyes on me while I eat your perfect pussy,” Pero commands, nuzzling your aching clit with the tip of his nose to get your attention.  When you look down, you lock eyes with Pero as his takes your nub between his lips again, lightly flicking his tongue while his curls bouncing against his forehead from the force with which his fingers drive into you.  When you grab onto his hair and pull him deeper into you, he hums his approval and the vibration does you in, you step off the cliff and let go as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave.  Pero continues to finger fuck you through your high while rising on one knee to palm at your neglected tits and kiss you long and tender. 

“Oh, Pero. Ohhh, that was- oh god,” you can barely string together your words; you’re completely wrung out and spent.  You’re now Pero’s pliable fuck doll, good and ready for his cock and not much else. He lifts your legs and maneuvers you into a laying position on the couch and it’s all you can do to try and keep your eyes open while you wait for him undo his pants and free his hard cock.  He’s magnificent: long with an impressive girth, a thick perfect vein runs along the underside of his length, ending at a bulbous weeping head; you want to feel the heft of him on your tongue.  Your hunger must show in your eyes and the way your plush lips instinctively part because Pero chuckles, “Another time, Cookie.  Right now, I’m going crazy every second I’m not in this tight cunt.”  He looks around the room looking for his backpack to get a condom, when, as if you’re reading his mind, you offer dreamily, “Pero, I’m clean.  If you want…”

His dick jumping at your words, Pero want you to be certain, “I’m clean too, hermosa.  Are you sure?”

“Want to feel you, baby,” your eyes dark with lust, “Fuck me bare, Pero.”

How’s he supposed to last when you have a mouth like that? “Fuck, princesa,” he breathes as he runs his tip through your dripping folds, adding to the sheen of leftover slick he transferred from his fingers; Pero fists his cock and coats it in your release to ready himself for your tight hole.  Hovering over you, he lines himself up to your entrance and captures your mouth in a passionate kiss as he slowly pushes in.  Every quick inhale of air you take to replace what he pushes out of your lungs is music to Pero’s ears.  Your tight walls almost choke him as he feels you spread your legs further, one leg now dangling off the edge of the couch in order to accommodate his size.  Pero is remiss to leave your lips, but he’s unable to resist the temptation to lean back and watch your face as you take his full length.  You hold his gaze amid your lust-filled haze, a blissed-out smile spreads across your beautiful face that cracks only when you lips form a soft ‘oh’ before relaxing again; Pero is hypnotized by this pattern repeating itself over and over as he pushes in deeper into your cunt.  When he finally bottoms out, you let out a breathy ‘Fuck’ before pulling him in for a slow and patient, soul affirming kiss.

Full. You feel so full.  “Taking me so well, princesa.  God you feel so perfect around my cock,” purrs Pero,  peppering your face and neck with soft, soothing kisses; waiting for your go ahead to move.  When you give it, he starts slow; dragging his cock nearly all the way out, before pushing back in with the same tempered control – you reward him with a call of his name and praise on how good it feels to be split open.  Over and over, he thrusts into you with the restraint of saint until he feels your arousal start to drown his cock, and only then does he pick up the pace; you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into his back to press him deeper, encouraging him to fuck you harder until he’s driving his cock into your cunt with a force that punches the air out of your lungs every time.  His grunts combined with his filthy words affirming how you were made for him, how he wants to stay buried in you, how you’re creaming so pretty around him, push you closer and closer to your edge again.

Snaking his hand between your bodies to toy with your sensitive clit, Pero feels you clenching down, “Come for me, Cookie.  You look so perfect when you come, need to see you come on my cock.”  You want to please him so.  You’ll give him everything he asks for, so long as he never stops looking at you the way he is right now: wrecked, desperate, devoted.  Doubling down on his attention to your pulsating bud, Pero draws perfect circles with his thumbs as he continues to rut into you with abandon, chasing both of your releases.  This time, when you come, your back lifts off the couch and Pero catches you, pulling you close as you shout out his name over and over into his shoulder, biting down and sucking into his skin so to muffle the string of obscenities rolling off your tongue.

The sting of pain from your teeth brings Pero to his precipice, and he manages to choke out, “Where do you want me, princesa,” before laying you down gently and pulling out.  Still lightheaded and cock drunk, you gaze through your lashes at Pero and almost shy, request, “Paint my tits please, Pero.”

Fisting himself furiously, the timidness of your tone in contrast to the lewdness of your words sends a tightness through Pero’s whole body right before he jerks and splashes ropes of cum all over your pretty breasts.

When he’s done, he steps off from over you and kneels by your head, kissing you appreciatively.  He reaches to grab a box of tissues but when he offers them to you, you giggle and swipe your fingers through his milky spend and pop your fingers in your mouth, sucking them clean.  Pero feels his softening dick make a valiant attempt to jump back to life as he watches you clean every last drop of his cum from your chest, licking your fingers and swallowing with a hum.  After he helps you up to your feet, you cup Pero’s face in your hands, stroking his scruff with your thumbs, and he melts under your tender affections.  “Stay over?” you look up, doe eyed. 

Grabbing you at your waist and sweetly kissing you as he walks you backwards toward the bedroom, Pero grins wickedly, “Of course, Cookie.  I’m not done with you yet.”

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern!pero tovar #modern au #no y/n

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Can you do Nobunaga from hxh with a teenage daughter that has really bad attachment issues and separation anxiety and overall very clingy and physical affectionate (sorry it’s very specific) 🤍🫶

Ooh I love Nobunga. I hope you enjoy!

Nobunga with a teenage daughter who has attachment issues and separation anxiety

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks

Fem! reader

-I think out of all the troupe members, Nonbunga's probably one of the better people to have as a dad when it comes to anxiety, or honestly just a better dad in general

-He's pretty laid back so he doesn't really mind how clingy you are, he's content with you chilling near him during troupe meetings or during down time

-He doesn't mind how affectionate you are either, he just lets cling to him whenever (unless he's doing something super important)

-The troupe is kinda like a big, fucked up family so they don't mind you being there either, you get along with most of the members quite well actually

-Because of his laid back nature, I feel like just being around him helps you feel less anxious, he exudes this careless attitude and it rubs off on you

-He personally doesn't have anxiety so he doesn't really get why you get upset when not with him, but he knows better than to tease you over it

-If you aren't also a member of the troupe, he definitely doesn't take you on missions (he doesn't want you getting hurt) but he'll see if Chrollo will allow him to leave another member with you while he's gone

-It's not the same as having him there and he knows it, but he hopes that being with someone you know and are close with will help relieve some of the anxiety

-During panic attacks he's more awkward, he's not great at verbal comfort so he just lets you cling on to him in hope that the panic will pass

-Despite his laid back nature, Nobunga's pretty protective of you so if anyone tries to mess with you or if somethings making you anxious he's shutting that shit down immediately

-A lot of the troupe members look out for you too, specifically Maki Pakunoda, Shizuku and Uvogin

-Because of how close Uvogin is to Nobunga, he's become like your unhinged but cool uncle who watches out for you. Pakunoda's practically your mom at this point, and Machi and Shizuku are like your older and younger sisters

-Sometimes Nobunga sends you off to have a girls night with the other girls in the troupe because he feels like you would benefit from learning how to go out and have fun without him there

-He does slowly try to get you used to not being around him all the time just in case something happens to him and you have to live without him (I mean he does have a pretty dangerous job) but he's still mindful of how severe you anxiety is and he'll never intentionally shove you far out of your comfort zone

-10/10 dad we love Nobunga in this house

(This post has made me discover that if I put a read more tab on a post it automatically undoes the row of pictures I've dragged together and puts them on top of one another instead of side by side like how I sorted them, so if anyone knows how to fix that I would appreciate your expertise)

#x reader #platonic x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh x reader #nobunga x reader #daughter reader #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #nobunga #nobunga hxh

[slashthrashandcrash]

What are some of your personal headcannons for Ghostface in DbD?

ooohhh...

He doesn't know any of the survivors' names. At all. Regardless of how many weeks/months/years he's ran trials with them. Or he may be familiar with some of them but wouldn't be able to match a face to it. Why should he care what they're called by when they're just gonna be on the receiving end of a blade? It's not like there's really been an opportunity for a meet n greet thus far with them.

Conversely, he does at least know the moniker of all the killers, but there's only a handful that he remembers the true names of (i.e. Amanda, Frank, etc). Y'know, the few that he would actually hang around with outside of trials.

Aside from Frank, he calls the other members of Legions various nicknames. But not as actual terms of endearment, just because he can never remember who's who lmao.

This is a general headcanon of mine but I like to imagine since Susie is one of the youngest (15/16) killers that she's automatically everyone's favorite annoying little sister. This extends to Ghostface, who has no problem admitting that she's his favorite out of all the Legion brats (especially in front of said Legion brats).

He doesn't know fuckall about the art of photography. Lighting composition, lens or angles -- don't know her. Goes off purely by vibes. It just so happens he also has a natural talent and artistic eye, so he never needed to learn the foundations to make his photos look good. Like being able to play an instrument but not be able to read sheet music.

He likes feisty girls, the ones that will kick and spit and fight back. He doesn't care for the soft ones that cry and beg for their life and are just overall pathetic in the face of death, where's the fun in that? The bark and the bite are what makes it all the more sweeter to subdue them with a knife in the stomach after they had almost escaped his grip.

His little floaty ribbons act as dog tails whether he realizes it or not, betraying any strong emotion that would have otherwise been hidden under his mask and unflinching stance. They'll stiffen straight if he's surprised, flick lowly at the ends when he's angry, wag when he's excited--

Before the fog, when he was still Jed Olsen and however many previous fake identities prior, he used to wear makeup to hide the collection of scars on his face courtesy of former victims. He's plenty familiar with color matching and foundation/concealer setting, he could do a natural full face with no problem.

Due to moving across states so many times and having to create new identities with it, he's also changed his accent to reflect whatever location he's at to better blend in at the locals. By now, since he doesn't have to mask that any more, he talks with the worst mashup of regional dialects you've ever heard. You can only pick up his natural southern twang when he's speaking with some kind of intense emotion (anger, excitement, etc.)

#ask #anon #i think about this man so much...

[hwaightme]

Family for Hire (Ch.3)

(family for hire ml) -> blurb and general tags in series ml

☀️ pairing: single dad!seonghwa x business woman!reader ☀️ genre: romance, family, domestic, fake marriage, slice of life ☀️ ch. summary: who knew that meeting a toddler could be so testing, a parking lot to an activity centre was the equivalent of a gladiator ring, and that sometimes it all could lead to awakening fears you did not know you had? ☀️ ch. wordcount: 4.4k ☀️ ch. warnings/tags: language, kind of edited kind of not, kid asking scary questions, Seonghwa being a dad, exploitation, deception, Nari having thoughts, brutal kid honesty, judgement, hints at not so happy family background, fear, anxiety, Seonghwa being very soft and patient and domestic ☀️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 ☀️ series taglist: @yunnierights @moniesmoon @jackinmyarea @hwalysm @sankatchu @hijeongguk @likexaxdaydream @treasure-hwa @paralumanniluna @naiify ☀️ a/n: Hello there! As I am in major Hwa brainrot, this chapter is a two-parter (aka there will be a 3.5), so stay tuned, big hugs and much love, and all comments, likes and reblogs loved :)

Chapter 3: Pocket Edition CEO

It was impossible to predict that National Geographic documentaries would be what informed you on how best to approach and act around a toddler. Heart nearly skipping out of your chest as you stared back at the little girl with pigtails, you imagined this being a scene of some face off in the animal kingdom. Or as a duel in the style of a Western. Either way, there needed to be a dramatic rolling tumbleweed, and Seonghwa would probably not want to ruin his pristine clothes by imitating the dead plant on some concrete.

You were fully expected to be punched or cussed out, as the honest little buggers can do. You could settle for being called ‘a stinky – insert whatever character they remembered off a screen’. But today the bar for being one of the wildest days of your life was not going to be lowered, and after scrutinising you to the point where you were convinced that she could see your organs, Nari switched her attention to her father, turned her body to the side, and began to crab walk in his direction. While still peering at you with suspicion and moving to hug the precious toy in her grasp. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your so-called business partner stealing glances at you, which in turn made you roll your shoulders back, and settle into a friendly smile. But apparently, it was not satisfactory, as Seonghwa leaned towards you and whispered, lips barely moving.

“The car…”

“What, the car?”

“I left the gift in the car, so you can give it to her.”

“Oh, smart.”

The little girl was determined, continuing her journey sideways, nearly tripping three times, with Seonghwa’s hands automatically lifting as if he was about to bolt from place and go for a rugby style dive. And how were you supposed to stand? Was there a guide that you should have read about how to greet toddlers? It was not as simple as crouching down and letting them sniff your hand before petting their head, like you would do for a stranger's dog or cat. Besides, house pets liked you, so you did not need to put in extra effort for one to end up in your lap by the end of an evening. Here, there had to be some artistry involved. A complex system which no crash course would help with, but you were still cursing yourself for not preparing for the possibility of meeting Nari. Maybe a good start would be to look less like a mobster and get your hands out of your trouser pockets and instead act relaxed and ready for anything.

While you were fixated on the tiny form manoeuvring across the concrete play area in front of the activity centre, you took no notice of the other parents who began to pull up into the parking lot or simply amble in. Seonghwa, however, having practiced the skill of fatherly multitasking, was feeding his own ego by stealing sly glances at the ogling and gawking mothers, who probably had never in a million years expected him to pull up to 'gossip central' in a swanky new ride with someone who gave off the aura of an impressive postcode and a highly competitive job. He knew it was wrong to exploit your perceived status, which he, having had exposure to the field, wholly comprehended was an elaborate front to elevate your worth for employers, but since it happened somewhat accidentally, he saw no harm.

Settling for a couple of polite bows, the other parents did not dare approach him, clearly too perplexed and taken aback by your sudden appearance. Comically, what he could sense was fear on your end, had translated into a stoic and 'untouchable' demeanour, which only added to your overall image. Though for meeting his daughter this had to change, and fast. This was not an intern to take your frustrations out on and practice line manager rage; not that you would do that, but he war familiar with how expressive you could get.

"Hey... Y/N, inhale, exhale, no one is going to attack you."

"Sh- sure. You're right. Sorry." It only hit you just now that you would have to censor yourself if you were to get anywhere in the conversation realm with the toddler. You bit back another frustrated swear-down, rolled your shoulders back, and pretended like you were about to meet a highly influential CEO - not too terribly far from the truth.

And said high profile figure appeared to be fond of hiding behind her father’s leg, clinging onto the beige material, glancing at you like she was a koala on a tree, and you were a potential threat, here to cut down some eucalyptus. Seonghwa’s patience impressed you, as he pried the girl away from him, and with a kind smile patted her head and started whispering a quick introduction to who you were, what the car was here for, and reassuring her that you were safe. Her only response was that of suspicion as she let go of her father’s trouser leg and grabbed a somehow even larger fistful.

The scene must look odd for any onlookers – a showdown between the generations, an unlikely match of wariness and, what could be, personality. Here was to you thinking that Nari would be as sweet as this reformed Seonghwa who you had been trying to not let get to you all morning. A lady pushing a pram strolled past, and quickened her pace as soon as your glances met. What was it with child-related locations giving you the heebie-jeebies at any opportunity? You would not be able to answer whether the ‘showy’ motherly energy and outfit of that woman gave you a fright or not, but the agonising fire in your legs, begging for you to sprint in any direction as long as it took you far away from here, was very real. But you did not raise yourself to be a weakling, so with one final mental push, you gave your best in greeting the one and only Park Nari.

"Hi! “Um, yeah, so…” you began awkwardly, rocking on your feet once, twice as the girl was burning holes in your face with her glistening eyes which you swore showed the same constellations of stars as Seonghwa’s, “...as your dad had said, my name is L/N Y/N, and I am... an old friend." You let out a sharp exhale and looked to your newly faked husband for approval – with the negotiations, also known as Nari’s opinion, still in progress and formulating, every move could be critical and end up being catastrophic. Seonghwa seemed neutral for the time being – good enough in your books.

"Hello and nice to meet you, I am Park Nari. You don't look old." Nari answered, finally stepping away from Seonghwa, lowering her hands with the Chewbacca she had been holding almost touching the ground.

"Why thank-"

"You look tired."

Note to self: avoid getting roasted by toddlers at all costs, for they show no mercy and are honest to the point where their comments will feel like a punch in the gut. Your eyes widened as you took the impact quietly - your usual techniques were illegal to use against this opponent. Seonghwa had gone pale, hissing at his daughter that such behaviour was entirely inappropriate and that she should apologise immediately, but received his share of the fire, even though it was a sincere attempt on Nari's end to explain her logic:

"... like dad! You and dad look tired." She grinned, her already puffed-up cheeks ending up looking particularly 'squishable'. Not that you were ready to even shake hands with the kid, but you had eyes, and could make observations. Seonghwa looked up from his daughter, lips pursed, and gazed at you. You caught him mouthing a 'sorry' but waved him off and opened the car door closest to you, thanking the lucky stars and Seonghwa for positioning the gift bag conveniently right within reach from where you were. Time for child friendly bribery.

“Well, it is because I really wanted to pick something out for you, that you might enjoy.”

Nari’s expression transitioned to that of what looked to be understanding of something beyond your own comprehension. She was thinking deeply, and a child with thoughts was something you considered to be highly dangerous. You inched towards her, and crouched down to pass the bag, wondering for how long you could keep up the invested, calm and collected act. In the meantime, Seonghwa was perplexed by how your confidence from before had evaporated – in front of his very own flesh and blood, his precious little angel, his princess? If Seonghwa were to be frank, Nari was acting like a tiny menace, and he was failing to hold her back without risking her stealing the show with a tantrum or a walk out. But it was easy enough to understand her. You were a lot more than a stranger to him, while to Nari you were just that. Making an appearance in her life for the first time.

“Thank you…” Nari mumbled, giving you a bow, in the same style that her dad had taught her. He nodded to himself after having witnessed his baby acting moderately under control.

She even showed interest in the gift, taking it out of the bag and headbanging her gratitude when he took it from her and let her inspect the box in peace, and show it off to the plushie. That attitude did not last long, however, for as soon as everyone was settled in the car, with Seonghwa acting as Nari’s child safety seat in the back and you driving, she decided to start acting the real questions that were at the forefront of her mind.

"Are you trying to get into daddy's pants?"

Nearly choking on your spit and swerving, you gripped the steering wheel as if it was a rope that could help you get to safety. As you were thinking of something remotely appropriate for an answer, she continued, only this time addressing her father, who was burning up from embarrassment, a pained smile on his face.

“Dad, is Miss L/N trying to get in-”

“Nari, I love you, but this kind of question is not okay.” You were stunned by Seonghwa’s change in tone. Gone was the diffident guy you had greeted in the café. Enter stage left and move to the centre an authoritative, dependable father. You recognised notes of ‘university Seonghwa’ in his measured-out assertiveness, and, once more, fell into a stinging realisation that you really did not know the man of the present, most of your tactics and approaches relying on guesswork. It had been successful so far, but there was a limit to everything. You needed to focus and learn.

“Why?” the little girl asked, while you bit your tongue to not tell the driver who had just cut in front of you who you thought they were.

“It is a very personal one and makes the person you ask upset.”

“What does per... son… al… mean?” she asked, stumbling over the longer word.

“Remember how I explained the word ‘private’ to you? When I use it in this way, personal means the question is about something private and only related to the person you ask. And when something is private, would you want to say it out loud, hm, Nari?” you checked the rear-view mirror, and caught a glimpse of Seonghwa, head lowered, black wavy locks falling over his eyes as he spoke to his daughter with the attention of someone for whom nothing else existed. It was almost cute – the ‘almost’ coming from you being appalled that you just considered the possibility of a toddler being part of something you deemed adorable. You shook your head and blinked forcefully.

“No…”

“That’s right. So?”

“SORRY MISS L/N!” Nari screamed at the top of her voice, startling you. For the first time in your life being inside of the car did not feel safe to you and you contemplated accelerating above the official limit to cut some seconds. But seeing Seonghwa’s worried expression as he cradled Nari and kissed the top of her head made you want to be a law-abiding citizen once more. Not much fight and rebellion in you after all.

In true toddler fashion, the little girl got distracted, and for the next few minutes was preoccupied with your gift to her, babbling away with only the occasional interjection by Seonghwa to support her in her musings, ask a question or polish her already good pronunciation with some tiny adjustments. You remained quiet, letting your reflexes take over as you steered and looked out for road signs. While you had enough experience in going for aimless drives around the city to the level that you probably could be a taxi driver, Seonghwa’s neighbourhood was something of a mysterious, magical land to you.

As you weaved through the narrower streets which you had chosen to follow instead of being stuck in traffic, constantly checking the side-view mirrors to make sure they would not graze the brick walls that hid gardens from public view, Nari became interested in your motivations once again, and with one out of pocket query sent you through a giant loop. It was spectacular that you could even continue the journey.

"Are you a gold digger?"

You realised that you had never been interviewed with such intensity before, and with ease deemed the traditional approach almost enjoyable now. At least corporate did not look for you to bare your soul, only, depending on the employer, donate it in instalments.

"Nari, that is not appropriate and -"

"But dad didn't gramma say you have a heart of gold?"

From the windshield mirror you observed Seonghwa's expression instantly soften as he held his daughter tight while you were performing a particularly sharp turn, narrowly avoiding potted plants that someone had decided to leave out on the roadside.

"Thank you, Nari, but-"

"Gramma said it, not me..." Nari stated as a matter of factly, cracking you up while you merged into busier traffic. The cold hard logic spoke to you on a spiritual level and began to show you the little girl in a slightly different, more familiar light.

"But you delivered the nice message to me."

"That gold diggers want to get you?" She shot back at lightning speed, turning her head to peer at what was to be a new residential neighbourhood, though with the modern style of the buildings under construction, it could pass off as a bohemian business centre.

"That according to grandma, I have a heart of gold."

"Oooooh okay! Miss L/N are you a gold-"

"I can tell you; she definitely is not. And what did we talk about?" Seonghwa considered both your lifestyles, and found the term to be the furthest away from the truth – opportunist, maybe, but you would rather go through hell than be financially reliant on someone else. A long while ago, you had explained to him that from the day you had gotten your first pay check, you had set it to be your goal to save and move out permanently, so that you could be in control of your fate and reclaim what you had lost. Judging by your efforts, he had always thought that what you had missed out on was time itself, but that was only a crude hypothesis.

"Per-son-al? Okay… But Eunbi from school said that about her second mom, and I did not like her, she is mean." You wished you could make turns like Nari swerved around conversations. And who knew that the real drama happened in kindergarten? You chose to forget about the accidentally rude judgement and instead listened into the conversation.

"What makes you say that, and when did you meet her?" you nodded, agreeing with the questioning tactic.

"She came to school late and did not greet us and stuff, and I don't like her."  Simple straightforward. Vibe check failed. You were starting to like Nari’s no nonsense approach to evaluating people, though your opinion would probably change in an instant if by horror, you were to end up on the wrong list – this toddler had too much power over your life at that moment, and it was a nightmare.

"Why is that?"

"She did not want to play at all, and was rude to Teacher Hwang and did not hug Eunbi goodbye and-”

“Okay… so what you are telling me, is that how she behaved was out of line, yes?”

“YES, dad, yes! She is a bully. But Eunbi said she is a gold digger so…”

“Do you know what the term means?”

“Is it a meanie?”

“No, it means someone who wants to be friends with someone else for their money.”

“For money? Why?”

“So that they can buy things, worry less about work… basically so they can change the way they live.”

“You should be a gold digger.”

“Are you saying we should change the way we live?” you realised, you would have snapped at right about that point, if not earlier. It was astonishing how Seonghwa was still continuing this conversation and honoured each phrase with full consideration.

“No. You should worry less about work. It makes me sad when dad worries.”

“Aw, Nari, I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you sad. But being with someone else only for money is not something I want to do.”

A sudden guilt floated into your soul, and you felt your chest tighten. What if you were a gold digger in some roundabout way? You were planning on using Seonghwa and his daughter as money bait, after all. Your goal was status, power and financial benefits – what was there that did not spell materialism and succumbing to vices of the earthly realm? Oh, how simple you were – you would not be shocked if Nari could see right through you.

“Then what do you want?” you did not wish to hear the answer, but had to listen.

“Hm… to be with someone for companionship and love.” You swore you saw Seonghwa glance upwards and towards you out of the corner of your eye, but you did not let it show. It could be your personal delusions acting out and giving you more things to be terribly anxious over.

“I love you, dad.” It seemed Nari was not interested in Seonghwa’s per-son-al life, and interpreted his answer as a declaration of paternal affection, which was much easier for your poor heart to take.

“Love you too, my cute princess.”

“Like Princess Leia?”

“Sure, like Princess Leia.”

“Yay…” the exclamation faded into the car’s rumbling as Nari snuggled into her dad’s blazer, practically digging herself under it and scrambling to become a tiny ball. In the few minutes left of the journey, you let yourself enjoy the bliss.

Apparently, Seonghwa ‘looked at you differently’ (a comment which flustered the man to the point where he dropped his keys while unlocking the front door) and ‘you were polite’, so in Nari’s eyes, that deemed you worthy of an invitation into her humble abode, much to Seonghwa’s amusement and hidden giddiness and your utter confusion. Considering the fact that you had been fully prepared for the girl to throw hands at you in the first seconds of meeting, the transition into her diligently explaining every single toy she had, imaginary worlds and being the biggest hypegirl for her father’s crafts while you sat cross-legged beside her, nodding enthusiastically, was surreal.

Unsure of how to approach toddler-level conversation, you took to asking her to elaborate on her decision-making and her strategies when it came to storytelling and crafting her own universes. This turned out to be a hit, as Nari would immediately launch into the largest diversions, passionately describing a chaotic crossover between some anime she had seen, a certain intergalactic franchise and what you gathered was some Pixar movie. While you were struggling to keep up, Nari’s passion was addictive, and motivated you to keep on listening. Soon enough, you were feeding back with your own ideas and innovating, which led to the girl taking a large sheet of paper, crayons and plopping down by the coffee table, beckoning you to take a seat with her so you could draw the ‘cool space monster things together’.

You were grateful that Nari was having fun, since for you, this felt like a never-ending assessment where you were afraid to even breathe wrong. But it could be the case that this approach had allowed you to tap into familiar territory and unlock some of your workplace characteristics instead of the awkward scared mess that you would otherwise act like. Initially, Seonghwa was hovering around you two, observing the interactions and always being ready to step in, for which you were incredibly grateful. But as minutes turned to hours, and Nari was completely immersed in play and your blazer was long hanging on a chair to not get doodled on, he disappeared into the kitchen to fix up an early dinner.

“What colour do you think Pow-pow’s fur should be?” you asked, using all your strength to remain serious.

“Orange.”

“Orange?”

“Yes. Mm. Orange.”

“Cool.” You reached for the appropriate crayon and began to colour in said monster’s fur. According to Nari, this one liked to eat sweet things and was really neat – you pretended to not know where inspiration for those preferences came from.

“Y/N?” about an hour ago Nari took to addressing you by your first name, initially approaching the matter with heart-melting shyness that made you accept this change in a split second.

“Yeah? What’s up, Nari?”

“Do you like dad?” the deafening clatter of pots and plates from the kitchen suggested you had an audience, causing a light blush to rise on your cheeks. The problem with kids was no matter what you said, they would not give up until you either said the truth, or tired them out with your verbal writhing, and you most certainly did not have the energy for the latter.

“Uh… yes. Sure, I do! He is very nice, so I do like him.” each word weighing heavy on your tongue, you let them fall to the floor, along with your composure. Nari could not mean much more than what a standard kid perceived liking to be, right?

On the same sites where you had read about the theory of development you had seen a separate discussion of natural egocentrism, narcissistic behaviours and 'me' tendencies that toddlers manifested as they grew up and started to gain tid-bits of independence. So, Nari hopefully meant mere mutual tolerance and your shared ability to play with her. Short-lived ponderings, much like all others that you had been having during your interactions with this magnificent, bright mind in a tiny body.

“He is very nice… You are very nice too. I like your drawings. I like that you like him, too.” the purposeful scrubbing noise that sounded like Seonghwa attacking dishes in the sink ceased, and a metaphorical spotlight was turned on you. You had been unable to come up with a better word to use to describe the man, but it appeared to be a spectacular selection for his daughter.

“You are very kind, Nari. Thank you for… you know. Playing with me?” you stated, though your choice of words made you cringe. For someone well-versed in the art of double speak and slithering out of the grasp of uncomfortable questions during profit and loss review meetings, you were a disaster when discussing banal feelings, turning to rumination for false support.

But the smile that Nari gave you, stellar and trusting, eliminated most, if not all concern from your heart. You held back a gasp as you noticed Seonghwa's daughter getting shy, squeezing her shoulders in and letting out a quiet giggle, whispering a soft "you're really really really nice...". You did not notice Seonghwa had stepped out, and was leaning against the frame of the sliding glass door with his arms crossed. He was still wearing a bright, polka dot apron, though even that was clean aside from one tiny splatter, and held a serene demeanour. The scene that had unfolded before him, with you and Nari huddled together and living in your own world was better than any artistic masterpiece. Nothing would ever be able to deliver the same level of impact as the acceptance that you two offered one another. All this time, Seonghwa had been afraid of judgement, and that was the biggest reason why he had started venturing out to reconnect with people from the past only now. To an extent, his behaviour could be labelled as selfish - he was not in the right state of mind nor life conditions, and as such he removed himself from multiple social circles and concentrated his efforts on going through a necessary metamorphosis. And now, to see you specifically, interacting with the centre of his universe - his daughter, and much to his and likely your surprise, finding common ground, was leaving him misty-eyed.

“Please make him less worried.” Nari's request was simple, but so hard to achieve.

Your heart sank as you pondered what you had just proposed to Seonghwa that morning. You had been honest, laid down all your cards, but skipped out on the terms and conditions. Fixated on the benefits, which were not even guaranteed, you did not see risk in Seonghwa's quick agreement. So, all there was left was to accept the possibility of ending up being the bad guy, and all that came with the journey to your grand finale.

“I… I’ll try my best.”

Fortunately for you, Nari was not the type to pinkie promise or ask a million times if someone really meant what they said. She was beautifully oblivious to the spectrum of evil out there. You refrained from expressing how you perceived yourself then: as the girl's first proper evil. One she did not even know about, and using her still limited vocabulary, ended up deeming 'nice'. Were you vile? The question plagued you, and yet you still got up and followed Nari's lead to the table when Seonghwa had announced that food was ready. There were too many variables. Too many unknowns. But only one charming gentleman pushing the chair out for you. One sincere expression of gratitude for being with a little girl and giving her so much joy. And what looked to be one happy family, sat at a dinner table, chatting about everything and nothing as minutes steeped in comfort, safety and true homeliness flew by. So, this was what such a life was supposed to feel like.

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