#‘it’s too much uh what do you want me to do about it’ like oh brother it’s oh woe me shit with these ppl

[nichuuu]

Dinner & Diatribes: Analogous

Shin Yuna x Im Nayeon x M reader

Word count: 14k+

“A younger girl… And I’m talking much younger. Eight years younger than me I think.”

Normally, it feels like you’re worlds apart from Nayeon in her bed. You’re just her toy, her plaything, her doll.

Tonight though: it feels like she’s in the same world as you. She feels here — emotionally and physically present as her nails trace circles on your bare chest. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe even classic manipulation, but she feels like more than just someone who you fuck on the weekends.

“And you won’t be jealous?” you ask, indulging yourself and playing with her hair a little. She scoffs.

“You talk like we’re dating.” She shifts so that she has a cheek on your shoulder. A relationship with her wouldn’t really fly: she’s not gonna let you take care of her when she loves control more than anything. Still, it’s nice to dream about holding her hand sometimes. “I have no reason to be jealous, so why would I be?”

(It’s a question you’re asking yourself too honestly.)

“Dunno,” you muse, admittedly a little disheartened, “maybe it’s cause you’re kinda freaky… Just a thought.”

She smirks. “Trust me. A younger girl in this thing we’ve got going on isn’t gonna affect anything.” She starts tapping her nails against your chest. “Besides… You know you’re mine.”

Oh…

(Not sure how to feel about that last part.)

***

Last you checked: you weren’t expecting a guest today. 

“Uh,” you can’t help but mutter past her lips as you stagger back into your own apartment. She lifts her lips off yours out of consideration, and she takes a few moments to soak in the look of mixed emotions that has made its way onto your face. You don’t mean to be rude when you point at the other girl and ask, “do you wanna perhaps wanna, you know, fill me in on what’s going on here?”

Im Nayeon turns, looks over her shoulder, smiles. She turns back, cups your cheek with her hand. 

“Thought I’d bring some company tonight, just to spice things up.” Nayeon tells you, turning your head in a way that lets you get a good look at the younger girl standing at the door to your apartment. “Hope you don’t mind.” With her other hand, she makes a come hither motion, and tells the girl to close the door on her way in. The girl does as she’s told, and when she’s next to the both of you, Nayeon takes her by the hand and pulls her closer. 

“Introduce yourself sweetie,” Nayeon instructs—firm yet almost saccharine. Nayeon lets her thumb rub over the girl’s knuckles, a deceivingly sweet smile playing on her lips. “Tell him what we’ve rehearsed. Go on.”

She’s an eye-catcher for sure—the other girl, not Nayeon. Not that Nayeon isn’t already turning heads when she walks just about anywhere, but more that the other girl is just a rather far cry from what you're comfortable with. You’re so used to Nayeon’s gentle, piercing eyes that can probably break you with a look from her; those small, plump lips of hers that kiss you with precision and passion; those bunny cheeks that you love pinching so damn much that it probably should be considered an addiction. But this girl brings something new to the table, and you have to admit that it’s refreshing. 

Smoky, kinda innocent eyes that have a whole foot in the territory of doleful and another foot in the realm of entrancing; luscious long black hair; a face that could make just about anyone melt. Nayeon’s guest is certainly a few years younger than her, and certainly less lecherous than her senior at first glance. You don’t really know where or how Nayeon could pick up a girl that looks as sweet as this, and you certainly want to find out how a girl that looks like the textbook definition of ‘smoking hot’ could ever end up in a place like this. She’s clearly nervous, but you give her credit for being able to stand perfectly still with Nayeon’s hand starting to roam up her arm. 

“I’m Yuna… But you can call me whatever you want.”

The sentence has Nayeon’s fingerprints all over it, and you can assume with full certainty that she’s had this idea stewing in her head for at least a week or two. The smug grin on Nayeon’s face tells you that things are going according to plan, and her fingers latch themselves around Yuna’s forearm. 

“She’s a fun one to play with.” Now she’s directed her attention to you, looking right at you as she pulls the younger woman even close to the both of you: till you can literally feel Yuna’s breath in your ear. “A young little slut to spice things up.”

Nayeon takes her attention away from you, and with gentle hands on Yuna’s cheeks, she pulls the younger girl in for a kiss. It’s simple—no tongue or anything—but it’s enough to make the younger girl squirm a little where she stands. Nayeon’s clearly taking pleasure in this. Even with her lips locked with a girl younger than her, you can clearly see the whisper of a cheeky smile playing on the corners of her lips. You wonder if she’s gonna get more joy out of this than you at the end of the day.

The younger girl is released from the fierce lip-lock. She looks dazed, like she just took a hit of a blunt. Nayeon admires her craftsmanship for a moment, taking in the look on the poor girl’s face as she chuckles softly to herself, “oh my… Someone wasn’t quite ready, was she?”

Yuna’s at a clear loss for words. She tries to speak; her words fail her. You can’t exactly blame her though. Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it. It’s fun, kinda hot; but not when you’re in a horrible place to get it and she decides that she just wants to blow you at some restaurant that you’re at. It’s a bit of a handful really, and you don’t quite know what to do with her sometimes. Wonder how Yuna fares?

“It’s okay,” Nayeon assures her, “you’re in good company now, though you're free to just watch if you’re still shy.”

The younger girl looks at her senior, then at you, then back to her senior. “I think I’d like to join in on this.”

Nayeon beams, her smile almost sweet if it isn’t for the fact that she’s quite literally happy to see a younger girl get it on with you and her. “That’s the spirit.”

And it’s confusing really: figuring out which of them is gonna make the first move. Yuna’s energy gives her an air of uncertainty, but you can sense some mischief within her that resonates at the same frequency of Nayeon’s. Yet there’s something a little different about her that you can’t quite place your finger on. Her youth is a breath of fresh air; there’s that young energy in her smile towards Nayeon that tells you that she’s eager but somewhat cautious. You would call her a mirror of Nayeon as they start discussing how she wants it, but you pick up on a bit of pickiness in her voice  that strays from Nayeon’s attitude. The older girl before you will take it however she likes, fuck herself on your cock till she cums and kinda leave you high and dry. Yuna on the other hand has some grungy ideas of where she wants you to cum and how she wants it to happen.

Okay, let’s return to home base and consolidate: they're similar but different; kinda conflicting yet go together like dinner and diatribes on a family reunion. There’s reason to believe that they are somewhat two sides of the same coin, yet simple observation contradicts the notion. Bottom line – it’s confusing.

“You know what?” Nayeon has a finger twirled in Yuna’s hair as she casts a glance at you. “How about we get you naked first… Then we figure out what we can do?”

Yuna seems to enjoy the proposal. The two women look at you, and Nayeon gestures with her head to come closer. As your feet land on the wood floor, Nayeon goes at a slower pace of walking as she rounds Yuna and stands behind her. She’s shorter than her by a considerable amount, but it doesn’t make her any less imposing as she pokes her head out from Yuna’s right side.

“Go on. Unwrap her,” Nayeon whispers, running a hand up Yuna’s stomach. “Let’s see what she has in store for us…”

And Yuna is more than glad to lift her arms up for you as you pull her sweater off her body. The girl has an amazing body – you’d give her that. Slim waist, wide hips, hourglass figures so defined that the sands of time would be jealous. A body to die for really, and the appeal only increases as she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. Nayeon smiles as she tosses her article of clothing aside. 

“Tight and forthcoming?” The older woman muses. “Looks like we have quite the toy on our hands.”

Yuna’s gaze is almost searing as you step up to her. Her breathing is kinda unsteady, but you can’t exactly blame her. She’s half naked in front of two older people, with one of them running her hands along her smooth skin while the other cock their head and examine her from head to toe. If you were in her shoes, your blood would be racing and boiling fast. 

“Do what you want with me,” she whispers. She reaches forward and grasps your crotch through your pants. “I’m yours to take.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did Nayeon teach you that?”

“Nope.” Speak of the devil and she doth answer on the younger woman’s behalf. “I only told her how to introduce herself, didn’t tell her what to say after,” Nayeon explains, a glint in her eye as she stares up at Yuna’s face. “Is it kinda fucked up if I wanna see her suck your dick?”

Yuna glances at her senior, then returns her gaze to you. “A little… But we can make it happen.”

Another point of difference – 2 actually: she doesn’t play around with her words and she’s pretty proactive. You like that. 

It’s a mess as you fumble with clothes, but it doesn’t take long for you guys to rid Yuna of the rest of her clothing and have her on her knees in the living room carpet. Her hands are delicate as she pulls down on the waistband of your boxers and frees your cock, and their even more so when she grips your throbbing shaft with both hands. On the chair that Nayeon pushed you onto, you watch her eyes as they survey what she’s working with.

“Wow…” she mutters, looking over to the right where Nayeon’s lounging on the sofa. “You had this all to yourself?”

Nayeon’s lips slant at an angle. “I know right? Better than any dildo you can find on the market.”

Yuna takes a moment to really look at the cock in her hands, eyes full of lustful wonder as she takes it in from all angles. She lets her mouth hang open for a little as she processes what she’s seeing, then she asks, “how does she even walk the next morning? I mean… This thing is girthy as fuck. Would probably split me open if I’m not careful.”

“It won’t,” Nayeon answers rather spontaneously, tapping her finger against a cushion as she watches Yuna pump your shaft with her lanky fingers. “It’ll fill you just right,” she leans against the handrest of the couch, watching intently as you push away some hair from Yuna’s face, “though I think it’ll look the best in your mouth.”

Yuna gets the gist. Her cheek presses itself against the inside of your thigh as she lifts your shaft and kisses it at the base, and she works her way up to the tip while one hand keeps your twitching cock steady. She gets to your head, and her lips take the sensitive part of you about halfway in, making sure you're looking (and you mean, like, really looking) as she lets her tongue lick the precum off from your leaking tip. Once she’s certain that she has your fullest attention, her jaw slacks and her shoulders rise; she takes a breath, closes her eyes.

There’s the hiss of an inhale — from you — as your head tilts back against the backrest while your cock enters the warm wet tavern of her mouth. She’s almost methodical in the way she takes you in, stopping halfway to adjust the angle of her head so that she can push forwards and down and drive the rest of your meat into your mouth. Her hands steady her, resting against your thighs as she tears a little. She’s a little more patient than her senior, waiting for a bit before she starts moving at a steady pace. Spit’s starting to drip down to her chin – will probably ruin the carpet if you cared enough (and you don’t). Nayeon’s been meaning to change this damn thing anyway. It’s seen too many juices and some dog piss in it from when her pomeranian was over those few times.

“Jesus,” is all you can hiss, through closed teeth of course. The young girl is nothing short of heavenly; she’s almost perfect at taking your dick as she starts to bob her head. The gurgling is kinda loud; spit flows like a stream down your shaft, only to be collected by that fastidious mouth as it traces a path – up and down and up and down. You wonder if there’s some make-up to be ruined.

“Won’t you look at that?” And you don’t even need to look over at the couch to know that Nayeon’s playing with herself. The squelching tells you lots, but the way her speech is kinda breathy tells you more than you need to know. She’s probably really turned by the sight of a younger woman taking cock into her mouth, riled up at the sight of tears flowing down her youthful cheeks. It’s borderline voyeuristic, pretty fucking freaky but also kinda hot. That’s her whole brand anyway. “She’s fucking taking your dick. My god…”

Yuna gurgles on your dick – probably some reply she’s trying to give but fails to because she has dick in her mouth. The suckle of her lips; the slide of her tongue against the base of your shaft; her throat kinda convulsing as she struggles and struggles – you don’t know if it’s all gonna be a bit too much, but now you’re really focusing on not trying to hurt her while your hands grab a handful of her hair in a fist. You’re assisting—or maybe forcing… Low-key goes both ways when there’s a very, very fine line between the two in this context—her, pulling her into your crotch and pushing her off just to pull her in again. It’s a vicious cycle – kinda doubling on the meaning while also butchering it: harsh and repetitive but there’s not a fucking instance where this produces a detrimental result.   

She comes up for air, your shaft pretty much dripping with spit as she takes a moment to gather herself. The gasping is hot, and so is the way she wipes her spit towards her mouth with the back of her hand. “God this is… Fuck...” she mutters, licking her lips while her fist is in constant fluid motion. Bruce Lee would be proud: she is like water.

“Keep it up darling,” the motions of Nayeon’s wrist have gotten quite sharp, sudden and lacking interval. Okay, maybe not sudden, but more… Desperate. It’s not like she isn’t gonna get her fair share of cock or anything, but she hasn’t been over for a while. There’s only so much that a vibrator and her fingers can do; she kinda needs to see it and revel in it for her to actually get off properly. You don’t know if watching a young girl take dick into her mouth is softening the blow dealt to her senses, but you kinda know that it’s still doing a number on her because she’s completely hiked up the hem of her dress to fuck herself with her fingers. There’s not much thought behind her actions, but she’s definitely letting herself go a little wild for the night. She is being indulged after all. 

“Am I doing good?” Yuna inquires, and it’s a question directed to both of you really. You give her a nod; Nayeon’s answer is verbal: Keep that up and you’re gonna make two people cum in the next five minutes. The young girl is pleased. She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, lick the cock before her from base to tip and sneak in some scissoring flicks of her tongue. Your hand finds itself on her cheek, thumb massaging the bone just above the flesh as she giggles and tosses her hair.

“You’re a doll,” you tell her. She smiles.

“That’s one of the many names I’ve been called,” she replies, letting your spit-covered head rub against her cheek. “Though I like the name cumslut the most.”

Oh.

Your grip on her cheek becomes more firm. “Okay then,” and your pushing her to the left so that her lips are in line with your head. “Open wide you fucking cumslut.”

The enthrallment in her eyes is apparent. Obedient, subservient, forthcoming, whatever; she parts her lips and lets her tongue hang out. Her eyelids flutter shut. You pull her forward. Nayeon cusses.

You're unbelievably hard in her mouth, and your member is ever so sensitive to every movement inside those cheeks of hers. The softness of her tongue, slickness of her drool, warmth of her cheeks… Too much to focus on with so little space for appreciation. You settle on fixating on the suction, the sweet vacuum her lips form around your length as she quite literally lets her mouth get used. Two hands around her head – pulling, pushing, pulling, pushing. A hot rhythm, not quite a dance but kinda cyclical like a routine. More perverse than any street jazz choreo you’ve seen though.

“Yuna,” you mutter, “ you’re so – fuck I – ugh… Your mouth.”

Somewhere in her throat, there’s space for a hum. Her hands are behind her back, locked in place by her own accord as she lets you fuck her mouth with no qualms. It’s smooth, almost natural till she gags a little on your dick and has to blink a bit. Slip n’ slide; front and back – she just takes your cock like an obedient little slut. It’s amazing, kinda dark, but still amazing nonetheless. The gurgling and the sound that comes from her throat that’s almost like swallowing; your fingers grasping the silky strands of her hair; eyes meeting hers. Fuck. 

You're desperate for a taste of heaven. You pull her down harder, faster. 

She gags, chokes, sucks a little harder. 

“Fuck this,” Nayeon hisses. “I’m joining in.”

And she straddles you before you can even blink, kissing you fiercely like she’s gonna die the next day and this is the last time she’s seeing you. Somewhere along the way, she’d shed her clothes. Now she’s nude and kissing you, jabbing her tongue into your mouth and exploring the feel of your teeth. Your cheeks are hers to hold, your mouth hers to own. 

She breaks the torrid kiss, “Yuna,” she drawls, playing with your hair as she speaks to the girl while looking at you. “Don’t ruin him too much. Leave some fun for me.”

The vibrations sent down your shaft make you tingle from head to toe – a product of Yuna’s attempted reply. You can’t see her anymore, but you can continue to just flow with the movements of pulling and pushing against her hair as Nayeon dives between her legs to get back to work. The older woman lets a sigh escape from her lips, pushing her fingers a little deeper. You can feel the heat against your crotch. Her hands move a little faster.

“Do you have any idea,” she whispers, her voice kind of striking that middle frequency between the gurgling and the squelching. “How fucking pent up I was in that damn dorm?”

Through your teeth, you reply. “No,” and you kinda twitch a little in Yuna’s mouth. “Do tell.”

She leans in, moans into your ear for good measure. “I was dripping every other day,” she reports, a lilt in her voice as she continues her work between her thighs. “Didn’t help that Momo was bringing a guy over and I could hear them fucking through the walls… My vibrator almost died that week.”

“Well…” you shudder as you speak, a familiar tingle building up from the base of your shaft. "You’ll have to wait your fucking turn.”

She smiles, quite sadistically you might add.

“That’s alright,” she tells you. Her forehead pressed against yours. “Just leave a load for me.”

And you have to hit her with an honest reply. “I’ll always have a load for you.”

“That’s what I thought.” She straightens her back and looks down at you. “I own this dick,” she announces to her audience of two. “Now cum in her mouth. I’m gonna get her to fucking swallow your load.” The orders are barked, not said. “I wanna watch.”

And she turns her toned back to you, leaving you with the view of the delicious curve of her back as she arches it while slicking her fingers with her own juices. You’re trying to hold on, desperately, but there’s only so much you can do when the mouth around you and the two women before you are this hot.

You don’t get to see it when it happens, but you can hear it and kinda imagine it when you cum right into Yuna’s mouth. You bet it’s kinda messy, but you’ll never know. Nayeon’s ass blocks the view – a trade off: view for a view. You hear the older woman hiss her commands—“Swallow. Fucking swallow you filthy little whore”—envison the sight of the young woman struggling to down your load as it pumps ito her wet hot mouth. A groan spills from your lips; a long-drawn sigh filters from Nayeon’s chest; Yuna gulps as she takes it all.

Your dick pops out of her mouth, all messy and slick with juices. Nayeon grabs it, pumps it, and without warning – shoves it into her cunt. 

And all at once it becomes too much: your over stimulated member twitches wildly in the grasps of her slick, hot walls as it begs for a break. The pleasure is horribly abundant, so much that it almost hurts. There’s no time to process the tight heat around you, voice your need for a break. Nayeon starts bouncing on her knees.

“Oh fuck yes.” Her hands shoot behind her, the left one failing to catch the handrest the first timebut gripping it tightly on the second attempt. Her knuckles go white. “I needed this. I needed to be filled by this fucking cock of yours.”

It’s too much; another load surges forth almost instantly. The hot semen paints her walls, shoots up from your already over-sensitive head and flows down her cunt. It leaks out; the squelching gets louder. Yuna’s tongue laps up the mix of juices that flow. Nayeon continues to ride.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of her waist, desperate to assist you in grounding yourself in this seemingly unreal reality. There’s a lack of words that can really describe your predicament, and if you’re to actually bring it across in a coherent sentence, it’ll probably something along the lines of “fuck” repeated at least a million times. You’re stuck in the chain of entry and exits of her pussy, a bundle of nerves beneath Im Nayeon while she mercilessly fucks herself on your cock. Right now: your dick is nothing but a mere toy for her to get off on, and she made that very clear from the moment she started throwing herself down onto your dick.

“Nayeon…” you heave. It’s an effort to even breathe.

“Shut it,” she hisses, not even casting a glance behind her. “I’m cumming on this cock one way or another and I don’t care how many fucking loads you give me.”

Yuna crawls around to the side of the chair. You hazard a glance at the young girl. She’s messy, sweaty and has residues of cum and drool at some areas around her mouth. She reaches out into the chair and takes you by the hand, squeezing it tightly in hers as if she knows that you’re fucking fading by the second. Every slam of Nayeon’s crotch against you is a mix of pleasure and pain, her moans almost like animalistic grunts.

“Fuck… You’re really filling her,” Yuna muses, watching the older girl take her liberties with your dick. “She must be so fucking tight right now.”

You swallow. “Yeah… It’s… Fuck…”

Yuna chuckles. Watching you struggle must kinda humour a little. She gives your hand a squeeze, encouraging you to hold on to what grasp of this world you have left. Her eyes sparkle, almost envious as she sees her senior bouncing on the dick she was taking into her mouth just a few moments ago. Her other hands snakes between her legs, flits circles of respite. Two girls getting off before you, similar but different.

Go ahead. Call this shit Tuesday.

***

“Be nice to her when I’m gone.”

You aren’t sure why Nayeon would need such a huge suitcase for a 10 day trip with her family. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s probably tonnes of products in there that she wants to bring along for the fuck of it, but the damned thing looks like it was harbouring a small child. Not that Nayeon would ever do that, but it does help to paint a clearer picture of the sheer scale of her luggage. The airport X-ray is about to have a field day with this.

“Of course.” You’re kinda obvious about your ogling from the doorway as Nayeon does her hair with nothing but her leggings on. Yuna is still fast asleep in the room that you’d prepared for her, but you still kept your volume down just to play it safe. 

Nayeon smirks at you through the mirror. “I’m sure she’ll feel right at home with you.”

“Is that sarcasm I’m hearing?”

“Take it however you like. My eyes are up here by the way.”

You chuckle and walk up behind her. “Guilty as charged mademoiselle,” you apologise, though you're not all that ashamed of th fact that she’s caught you in th act of fucking her with your eyes.

Nayeon hits you with a scoff, a rather aloof one that screams ‘got you. Thought you were slick huh?’ even though it was within your fullest intentions for her to catch you looking. She had to be fair to you in this situation — kinda hard to look at anything else. Or maybe you’re misjudging her, maybe she knows full well that you were (and still are) catching a good look at those firm, perky mounds that sit proudly atop her chest. They fit perfectly in your hands, quite like a glove—OJ Simpson would hate that it fits that well—and a nicely-fitted set of bed sheets. What the fuck does that even mean? Frankly, you can’t quite put an explanation to it yourself; you’re kinda listing things that sound and feel right to you — things that give something enjoyable that little kick it needs to become something more congenial. 

(That sort of encapsulates her whole personality honestly. She’s already something to relish, cherish; the type of girl that makes other guys say ‘she’s a keeper’ even though they don’t have the slightest idea of what she really was like beyond cameras and public appearances. Kinda horny all the time, but also wants to cuddle you to sleep and call you all sorts of pet names after you’ve blindfolded and fucked her against three different flat surfaces – maybe breaking some expensive furniture in the process. Dominant, a little stubborn and a little pissy. Need you say more?)

“But for real: make her feel at home,” she says, setting down the curling iron and switching it off. She leaves it to cool down, puts on a sweater while she waits. “Poor girl’s been through enough. I promised her a safe haven, so try to make it one.”

The context behind her request is a little baffling. Just this morning Nayeon told you of Yuna’s falling out with an alleged highschool sweetheart, and she's taking shelter with you guys till legal matters are dealt with and she’s safe and sound. Guy started stalking her apparently, threatened her once or twice too. Fun times we live in.

Helping her hook the clasp of her necklace, you assure Nayeon that only your best effort would go into creating a safe space for her younger companion. Not to brag, but you’re pretty good at making friends—trust me. We’ll be tight before you even know it—with strangers. It’ll be like walking the dog; easy peasy. You get the idea right? Kinda running out of sayings. Nayeon seems pretty pleased with your promises.

“If you guys have fun, do send some videos,” she tells you, opening her drawer to pull out a pair of jeans. “I’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t. That girl has a body even I wanna ravage.”

“So cock is not enough, huh?” you tease. She flicks her eyes to the mirror.

“Who said it wasn’t enough?” She cocks her head and makes eye contact through the mirror. “I literally ride you till you’re sore. Yuna’s just… an add-on. Like a side dish if you will.”

You chortle. “And I’m the main course?”

“Nope,” she giggles, unfolding her jeans. “That would be me.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“If you want an admission of my wrongs, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”

And she meets your eyes in the mirror. You smile, knowing that she’ll probably let you get away with this one.

“It’s really a shame…” you sigh. “These leggings were, like, really nice.”

***

Couple minutes later you’re giving her a kiss on the cheek as she hurries for the taxi that arrived five minutes ago. In the midst of the commotion, Yuna emerges from her room dressed in one of your shirts – just in time to wave goodbye to her senior before Nayeon slips away. You're not too sure if she’s fully registered the fact that she’ll be stuck with you for a full week, but hopefully once the realisation sets in, you’d already have made her comfortable. 

You turn. The way you meet her gaze is kinda awkward. She has a look of intrigue on her face as she rubs her arms and gazes back at you with those doleful eyes.

You clear your throat. “You uh… You like omelettes?”

***

On your phone screen, Nayeon just kinda stares back at you with a hundred-yard-stare type of look. Hotel wifi has her video freezing at a rate that would make Elsa proud, and she’s barely a human through all the pixelated fuck-what that clouds in front of her.

“I feel like we're focusing on vastly different things here, Nayeon.” You’re hoping that she can hear your voice over the roaring silence of shitty network bandwidth. “Not even a day too… I’m pretty sure the poor girl’s scared shitless of me.”

And while Nayeon’s video and audio buffer, it’s a good time to remind yourself of your mistake. Not that you forgot it or anything, but you just gotta make sure that everything that you tell Nayeon is accurate.

So it turned out that Yuna and breakables don’t really go well together. Nayeon seems to have forgotten to ask you to read some fine-prints, and you basically went in raw when you witnessed  the young girl’s clumsiness. Quite the butter-fingers: she broke a mug and a plate in one slip of her tray from her hands. The sound of shattering porcelain jarred her, and as she attempted to move out of her mess, the Dad in you spurred you to cry out in panic. Don’t move! you practically roar. Poor thing flinched like she’s being held at gun-point, started shivering a little as you rushed over to clear up the shards. You don’t quite know how to comfort her, and so you just tell her to just eat in her room if she’s uncomfortable. She took you up on that, and that ended the first non-sexual interaction you had with her.

Way to go… You deserve a star.

By the time you’re done pacing the room and have thrown yourself onto the bed, Nayeon reconnects back to the call. She’s in a bathroom, wearing airpods and sitting in what looks like a bathtub. From the fact that she's wearing a robe, you’ll bet good money on the really (and you can’t stress this enough) high chance that she’s wearing nothing else beneath that.

“Five star hotel and I get two bars of wifi everywhere except the damn toilet,” she huffs. Guess you were right about what the two of you were focusing on. No prizes for being right though; life’s a bitch. “Anyway, don’t think too much about it. She’s clumsy but she’s not unaware. I’m sure she’ll understand where you’re coming from.”

“Honestly”—you slide under the covers and heave a huge sigh—“I think I might find my thirteenth reason if she hates me tomorrow.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes. Yes: she’s painfully aware that you certainly won’t kill yourself over the fact that you may or may not have made a girl re-live her trauma, but the knowledge of that doesn’t stop her from expressing her disdain towards your little joke.

“Sleep on it. You’ll be fine tomorrow,” she assures you, now in full resolution and crystal clear audio and image. She segways into something else, “By the way, check out the link I’m sending you.”

Toilet wifi is truly doing her wonders cause you get the link in question right after she says it. And you aren’t sporting a fedora when you confidently identify the source as a Reddit thread, but it feels like you should be heading online to buy one and get it delivered via next-day delivery. (Ugh… You can feel the word m’lady threatening to burst forth from your mouth already.) Yuck.

Clicking on the link brings you to a community you’re no stranger to. You’ve heard of it once or twice, but never really had the time or energy to delve into the posts. Nayeon seems to have done some homework though — you’re taken to a very specific post, a clip that kinda blew up when it debuted. 

It takes no Oppenheimer to draw the conclusion that the post addresses Nayeon herself, and she’s clad in that all black bodysuit from that one Talk That Talk performance that hugs her figure and really makes all the curves on her body pop. You’d know: you fucked her in this outfit; railed her on the bed from the back with a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs on her wrists if you want specifics. And if you want even more details: she didn’t let you cum till she’d came 3 times. Fun.

It’s a stunning outfit, and the appeal of the wonders it does to Nayeon’s body is only emphasised by how she runs her hands up from her hips, tracing the hourglass shape of her figure before she flips her hair. A pretty good Gif. Seems to have all 1410 commenters on their knees.

Now mind you: you’re on speaker phone with her right now. With that in mind, it sure as hell feels like Nayeon’s in the room with you as low sighs and salacious squelching starts filtering through Nayeon’s microphone and into your ears. A quick glance at the call window (that’s so helpfully converted to a small rectangle at the top right-hand corner of your phone) confirms 2 things while surprising you with a third find:

1) She’s very much naked under that robe. A bit of a no-brainer

2) She’s playing with herself – legs wide open and one of them (you can’t be arsed to really say which one) propped up on the rim of the bathtub as juice-slicked fingers work themselves between flushed folds.

3) The whole reason you can see the stuff in 2) is attributed to the fact that she's somehow leaned her phone against something in that bathtub to give you an almost artistic view of her. Emphasis on ‘almost’ because the close-up of her pretty, pink pussy is foreground to an even more sordid display of her half-lidded eyes and parted lips — baseness personified really.

Yuna becomes a secondary thought. “So… Has anyone told you that you’re kind of freaky?”

“Hey. I’m just a girl,” she muses, the look on her face a strong contender for the symbol of pure depravity. “Read the comments would you?”

“Twitter’s a much better place for this if—”

“Just stop being a smartass and read the fucking horny comments.”

You’re not intimidated by the aggression behind her voice for once, and it’s probably because she isn’t here to edge you if you don’t shut up. You take a moment to admire just how good she looks in this seemingly sempiternal display of what looks like lust itself, the Gif looping at least 3 times while you’re at it (and it’s like, the best 14 seconds of your life). The sun hits her at just the right, illuminating the best parts of her while shadows further define the shape of her curves – bringing forth the swell of her hips while making her tits and ass look bigger by a rather generous amount. Frankly, she looks good in just about anything really. Clothes on or off; hair tied up or let down; lingerie or fancy dress; lace or solid, she is the embodiment of sex.

“Hurry the fuck up,” she hisses, and it’s dripping with lethal lust and desire like venom from serpent fangs. Okay… There’s some mutual interest here with you and Nayeon. You’ll oblige.

“How nasty are we getting?” you inquire, all while you work the waistband of your pants down past your crotch so that your cock can spring free. You enlarge the window of the call, silently hypnotising yourself with the sight of Im Nayeon’s hand busying itself between her legs. “Are we going from the tame ones and progressing or…”

The look on her face tells you that she doesn’t give a shit; and she’s about this close to ending this filthy call and getting off on her own. Better conscience guides you to pick a random comment from the middle and get going with it.

“This one’s a thought provoker,” you preempt, scanning through the rather raunchy statement left behind by some undoubtedly turned-on user. “It says, ‘I wonder what she tells her stylist when she has to wear such outfits. It's like she must be really asking: I want something that will reveal my whole curvy figure. Nayeon is really the best girl’.”

“Mnph…” — she tilts her head back and lets out a gasp – an implosive suction of air that’s sharp yet so pleasing to your ears. “Curvy and… What was that again?”

“Best girl,” you reiterate, watching with a half-parted mouth as your hand matches the pace of Nayeeon’s fingers pumping in and out of the wet mess on the screen, “looks like someone’s got an eye for details.”

“They’d better. I think I looked fucking hot in that thing.”

You could second that opinion, though it was probably in your best interest to keep reading. This is basically your equivalent of putting fries into bags. You’re kinda okay with it, but you’re struggling to read this next one because of its horrible grammar, “her pussy must feel like heaven. With a tight body like that, she must know how she’s draining balls around the world.”

In the bathtub, she twitches. Her ring and middle finger are drenched when they’re removed from her pussy, but they don’t rest and find solid ground on her clit. They rub circles into Nayeon’s swollen nub, no doubt applying just the right amount of pressure onto the area while Nayeon is breathing all shaky and sounds like she’s been winded. In your books: this is basically her doing a backflip over the fine line between freaky and kinky, and basically exposing you to some new kink that she’s probably picked up from Sana.  If any of these commenters ever really had a sliver of an idea of what she’s really like behind the scenes, you doubt that the comments would be as merciful as this. Anyway, next.

“I bet she likes it raw. She probably loves being a good little fucktoy who takes unprotected dicks into that tight pussy and letting load after load fill her. I mean” —Nayeon starts to shudder a little, quaking and sighing as you get to the more explicit section of his comment—“she’d probably like it if I just ripped that dress off her body and spread her legs. She’ll moan like a slut when I put it in her and just start doing her raw. Imagine the way her tits will bounce. Fucking slut, she was made to be bred.”

She lets out this moan – inexplicable and undescribable. She urges you to keep going. You do just that.

“I want her mouth so bad. Bunny has those dick sucking lips that are made for cock, probably gives mad head and is so fucking sloppy with it. I bet she’ll let the drool drip from the corners of her mouth while she takes me in all the way, and she’ll probably thank me with her eyes when I grab her by the hair and start fucking her throat. I’m gonna destroy that pretty little face so bad, leave her so fucking messy and ruined that she’ll have to stop singing for at least a week. When I cum, I’m gonna make sure it goes down her throat and get some on that slutty face. She’s earned it.”

You’re watching her, pumping your fist around your cock while she lets her jaw slack and lets her moans sort of tumble from her mouth in batches. “More,” she pleads, fingers trembling as she lets her free hand slip beneath her robe and start giving attention to her tits. You’d kinda kill to see them now, but this view will have to do. “Read more. I want to hear it.”

“They're getting nastier,” you inform her. “This whole thread of comments is just 3 guys discussing how they want to share you in a gangbang.”

“Fuck yes. Please…”

She never finishes the sentence, but you get the gist. You persist. 

The next one is kinda paraphrased, partially because you’re projecting your own fantasies while simultaneously deciphering what this guy is trying to say across 5 separate comments. 

“I want nothing more”—and it’s getting really hard to breathe while Nayeon’s fucking herself senseless halfway across the world. Maybe if she hadn’t worn those damned airpods, you wouldn’t be hearing every single sordid little sound she makes (gasps, sighs, moans and a bunch of phonetic mish-mash that began with the letter ‘o’). You can’t tell if she’s already lost to the haze of pleasure, and even if she hasn’t she’s probably holding on by a thread thinner than hair; on the way there and probably reaching within the next five minutes—“than to pound her little pussy raw and give her a fat load.”

“Oh my fucking god…” she’s descending a little further into her own head, sinking beneath the sheer thrill of masturbating while her partner reads out all the perverse things that people would do to her. Her breaths are almost desperate – earthy and kind of like a product of raw emotion; akin to a groan or maybe even a grunt. At the same time, it’s like she’s struggling to take in the air she needs, fighting to find a reason to take a breath and distract her from this debauched world that she’s dived into. It isn’t just her mind that’s twisted here, but the minds of others too.  “Keep going. I need to know how they’re gonna ruin me.”

You’re trying to memorise the next line so you can watch, watch the subtle twitch in her right leg and the grunt-moan hybrid that’s produced from that pleasure stricken throat; the way she becomes a bundle of nerves like you and just starts losing it; the way her fingers go from rubbing to fluttering small circles of heavenly release into her body; the way the round breast that’s slipped out of the robe ripples with each movement from her shoulder. You’re more than happy to watch really; be a witness to the act of her bringing herself to the point of no return as she practically brims with pleasure and bliss that she’s bringing herself. You’re reading is like an add-on, some sick twisted DLC if you really think about it (you’re not really thinking much, but it’s a fun thing to consider). It’s quite like making a drink, albeit a little bit butchered – she’s pouring herself a glass while you wipe the rim with a lemon. The alcohol can spill on your fingers for all you care, you just wanna watch her make it overflow. 

TL;DR: you really wanna make her cum.

“I’ll fuck her mouth while you take her pussy”—this one is read word-for-word, verbatim, letter-for-letter. You like how it’s phrased, not quite poetry but beautiful in its own way—“make her gag on this cock till she’s ruining her mascara. We cum together. Give this little slut the spit roast creampie of her life.”

She half-sigh-half-moans – the type of noise she’d make when she’s on her back and being fucked into the mattress. She shifts, undoes the knot holding her robe together and lets the thing part from the middle and falls at her sides. Leaning back against the end of the bathtub, her pleading comes in the form of whines, soft ones that kinda float around the room while she endeavours to work her fingers a little harder. A free hand kneads her breast. Your breath hitches, cock pulsing in your fist as she arches her back and starts to gasp. You read the next lines, the boner-fueled words of some guy who probably had his cock in his hand while typing this out.

“I want her ass. I’ll make her ride it while she takes it up that bubble butt, then you guys an still fuck her pussy and mouth. She’ll be so messy, probably dripping from her pussy and her mouth while three dicks fuck the shit out of all three of her holes. You know what? I bet she’ll enjoy it. The slut flaunts her body like it’s a fucking prize. She’s asking for it.” 

There are like 2 more comments, but you never quite make it to the next parts. With a cry, Nayeon leans forward in the bathtub. She digs her fingers back into her slit, restarts the squelching and lets your speakers flood with a sordid symphony; squelch after squelch after squelch feels like music to your ears.  “Your cock.” It’s a demand, really raunchy, kinda racy and really (and you really mean really) fucking raw. Can’t quite figure out which part of her strips her of the filter that takes away the pure intoxicating venom that coats her words, but you couldn’t really give more of a shit right now. It’s hot, like, really fucking hot. “Show me your cock. Let me see you stroke it.”

And it’s almost at once that you switch back to the call and flip your camera around. You’ve been going at the same tempo for some time now, and you hope Nayeon can see the utter mess she’s made of you – precum leaking from your tip and your head all swollen and red. She moans, slips another digit inside of her and starts working all three of her fingers harder inside of her. 

“Ngh… I really wish that I could be filled with your cock right now,” she drawls. You’re not too sure if she knows that she’s projecting a shared desire right now. It’d be great to feel those warm walls wrapped around your shaft, slicking it with her juices while she rides you at a steady pace. Fuck… She’s ruining you, isn’t she? “With me baby. Cum. Make a mess for me.”

Her words are a little jumbled, but coherence doesn't really matter when she’s spitting pure filth from her lips. It doesn’t take long for either of you to get there, but you like to think that you meet her where she already is and kinda just go from there. At least that’s what you tell yourself as she convulses and is marred by her orgasm, and your cum leaks down your shaft and flows over your knuckles while you watch Your respective cameras capture it all – witnesses the mess you make at the hands of each other (and yourselves). You have to take a second, sit in the warm puddle of your own mess. It’s pooled on your stomach; cleaning up’s gonna be a chore.

“God…” Nayeon breathes. “Always wanted to try this.”

“Guessed as much,” you reply, sitting up in your bed and looking around for tissues. You spot a box of them on your desk. Great.

“Gotta go. Be in touch soon.”

She leaves you in the darkness of your room. From the corner of your eye, you spot a set of eyes watching you from the ajar door. You make out Yuna’s features before she closes the door, no doubt fleeing the scene. You aren’t sure how much she saw, but you hope that whatever she did see hadn’t scared her shitless.

Anyway, there are larger issues at hand.

***

It’s somewhere on the third or fourth night where it happens. For the record: you don’t go to her. She comes to you.

Weather forecast predicted hail, and for once they’re actually correct. It’s pissing it down – the glass on your room not left unscathed from the assault of hail falling from the sky. It’s awfully noisy, helluva hullabaloo. Hard to sleep in this weather really. You warned Yuna—who seems to have gotten a little more comfortable around you—about the horrid weather that you guys were about to be blessed with, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s fairing alright.

The knock on your door comes around a quarter after one. Yuna steps into your room, her silky nightdress kinda glowing in the low light as she sort of just stands there awkwardly. It’s quite like a child entering their parents room in the middle of the night to inform them that they’ve shat the bed. You look at her from under the covers for a bit, and when she continues to be a deer in headlights, you sit up in your bed. “You okay?”

“I’m um…” she begins, fiddling with her fingers as she speaks. “I-It’s noisy… And…”

You understand what she’s attempting to convey. You move to your right in bed, open the covers and pat on the space you’ve left for her. She smiles, grateful. When she settles into the space where Nayeon usually sleeps, you tell her to holler if she needs anything else. You leave her with that, and your back faces her when you—by the grace of some divine powers—drift off.

You wake up again in the early morning. The sleep wasn’t bad – kinda peaceful and dreamless and you want to close your eyes and drift back off. Unfortunately (actually kinda fortunately in this case), Yuna’s legs entangled with yours snaps you awake. You’re worried that you might have rolled into her while you were asleep (you really didn’t want to fuck up again), but her arm around your torso tells you otherwise. She’s cuddled up to you, head against your back and hugging you like you’re her personal soft toy – the usual kind of cuddling. Frankly, you’re at a loss for words. What happens in between is kind of a blur. You remember her stirring, and you remember turning around as slowly and gently as possible. What you don’t quite remember however, is how she ends up with a hand on your cheek. You vaguely remember her asking for some sort of permission, but your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can’t really hear or process much. She’s in the most vulnerable of positions right now, and the worst thing you could possibly do is fuck up. Your mishaps from the first day have you on edge.

And now you’re running through the events again in your head, doing your best to pick up on critical exposition that probably would explain the situation you're in. Words fail you as Yuna’s thumb traces a path across your cheek, sweeping back and forth languidly with the smallest of smiles on her face. Her eyes—those hypnotic doleful eyes—stare into yours, and you’re sniffing out some longing behind that gaze. 

“Nayeon put in a really good word for you,” she whispers, letting her gaze wander across your face. “She said that you were a trustworthy man… Someone who’ll take care of anyone because you can.”

You’re happy to hear of Nayeon’s positive appraisal of you, but it doesn’t stop your bad habit of cracking a joke in tense situations. “And what’s the customer’s review?”

You’re glad that she laughs. If she didn’t, you’d have to expand your list to include a 14th reason. 

“She told me to trust you and that I can feel safe around you,” she reports. She takes a moment to bring her eyes back to yours. Her smile grows wider. “I’m happy to say that I do… Largely.”

And all at once: a two tonne weight around your chest feels like it just dropped a twenty-story height. You aren’t sure if Yuna’s giggling because of the fact that you’re visibly relieved or because you heaved the loudest sigh of relief of your career.

“Man… I thought I’d completely fucked up after the first day,” you admit to her, relishing the feeling of your body relaxing in bed. “Never quite got to apologise for that.”

“And you don’t have to”—her smile is quite soothing to be honest, puts you right at ease after looking at it for a second or two— “I was just kinda shocked��� And I kinda have a bad experience of being yelled at. Working on it though.”

Huh. Guess Nayeon was right about her.

“Still though,” you raise, rubbing your eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

Yuna chortles. Her lips slant at an angle. “Forgiven and forgotten. Happy?”

You smile in response to the progress. “Hey. You go girl.”

She graces you with a wink. A moment of silence follows. 

“Did Nayeon ask you to be touchy with me?” you can’t help but inquire. It’s out of the blue, but hey: a burning question is a burning question. “I mean… It’s not everyday that a cute girl just pulls up in my bed and caresses my cheek.”

“She said that you’ll be fine”—she retracts the hand on your cheek. The two tonne weight starts rising to the 5th floor—“and are you flirting with me?”

(Two tonne weight falls. Phew… What a workout.)

“Maybe.” You don’t really like being blunt cause there’s always some merit in a bit of playing around. Now that you think back on it, you may or may not have picked this up from Nayeon. Damn girl is ruining you. “Take it how you want, just don’t think I’m being sarcastic.”

Yuna smirks a little. “Nayeon did say you like to play around with your words,” she lifts a finger and points away from the bed, “not sure if she influenced you,” she points towards you,  “or if you influenced her”.

“What if we’re both a little guilty?”

“Then I’ll be the outlier. Can I kiss you?”

And it feels like time stops. For the seconds that you stare at her in silence, one brain cell exerts maximum fucking effort to process the weight of her words. You wouldn’t have been as hesitant if she’d just kissed you directly, but now that she’s asking for consent first, you’re high-key at a loss for words. The sun’s starting to rise and the room’s being filled with this sorta radiant glow… Or maybe it’s just her.

“Woah,” you can’t help but muse. Of course, you’re exaggerating by quite a bit. “You are… Super blunt.”

“Figured you could use a change of pace.”

Then Yuna closes the distance between the two of you. She hesitates for a little, hovering over your lips for a bit before she finally decides to press her lips onto yours. It’s kinda sweet; her lips feel amazing and she’s really going down on you. You comb your hands through her hair, let the smell of sweet shampoo kinda intoxicate you a little while she tugs at your lower lip with her teeth. Unlike Nayeon, it feels like she’s kissing you because she wants to. The older girl sometimes makes it feel like she’s doing it for the sake of it, and then proceeds to tear through your clothes to get to your dick. Yuna takes her time, lets her hand on your face get familiar with the structure of your jaw as fingers graze them gently; introduces her index finger and thumb to your chin as she tips it to deepen the kiss a little.

“Hey,” she calls once the kiss is broken. She’s glowing in the light of the room, the smile on her face pretty fucking adorable. “Did Nayeon ever tell you that I look the best when I take it from the back?”

Again: super fucking blunt.

Clothes are never a hassle when you’re kinda in a rush, and Yuna’s night dress slips right off her body like the plate she dropped from the tray. You have her on her back, kinda half-mewing-half-keening as you catch a nipple in your mouth and suck on on it. The toned muscles on her stomach tense and relax, the rapid ebb and flow of pleasure in her system making her body move in all sorts of sensual ways as you palm her other breast.

And here’s the thing you like about Yuna: she lets you take her time with her, really revels in the sweetness of the moment while your trailing kisses down to her crotch. She moans for you – sweet music that tells you yeah that’s the spot while you acquaint and familiarise yourself with her body; she shifts herself accordingly – rolls to her side when you were kissing her plunging collarbones and opens her legs for you when you get to that pretty, pink pussy. It’s like she’s wired to please you, responding to your every move with a move of her own like you’re locked in a dance with her. It’s a welcome change of pace from having to fight and dirty talk your way to even get the chance to fuck Nayeon.

(In case you’re wondering: you do eat her out, but you kinda get lazy to really put into words. All you need to know are these few key points:

Firstly, she’s delicious, sweet and salty and kinda tangy. A bit of a subjective taste but you like it.

Secondly, her moans are really fucking adorable. They’re not even, like, purposefully made that way. She just kinda lets them flow from her mouth – choked-up cries of pleasure while warm thighs wrap around your ears. 

Lastly, when she cums, it’s fucking amazing. It’s like she brings heaven down to earth with her cries and makes sure you get to touch it as much as she can. Her body is fucking riveting – arches deliciously when she arrives and makes you twitch in your pants.

Bottom line: she’s really fucking hot, quite like Nayeon in the way she tries you on sometimes but patient and actually giving you the chance to talk dirty with her. Damn… She really is a change of pace.)

And so: reaching between your bodies with her on all fours, you grasp your cock in your right hand, slipping it between Yuna’s legs. The young woman spreads her thighs as best she can – readies herself for entry. Your head pushes between her lips, waiting for only a moment, before you thrust hard inside her, filling her to the hilt with your cock. She’s awfully tight, really fucking wet and God is it hot in there. You almost think molten iron seems to be brewing in her core.

“Tell me,” she huffs, a sly smile on her face as she props herself up on her elbows. “Am I better? Or is Nayeon still the best?”

You caress the swell of her ass. “Baby… I think you’ll be the best fuck I’ll have in a while.”

It’s almost cruel: the way you kinda just start thrusting without any warning. She likes it though, and you only know because she possesses the bluntness to do so.

“God you’re fucking big.” And her ass ripples with each thrust you deliver into that slick little pussy of her’s. “Fuck… How does Nayeon even manage you?”

(The thing you like about her is how she asks a question like it was some sort of objective statement – not a rhetorical question, just something for you to respond to.)

You fuck her harder in response to that, kinda push yourself all the way into her. The tip of your cock slams against her cervix and her cries ring throughout your room. Your room fills with the sort of visceral sound one would associate with skin slapping against skin. There are definitely some more words to be shared during sex – the girl has a little more things she wants to get off her chest, but what the whole exchange boils down to is a back and forth of her gasping and crying out and saying you’re the best dick she'll ever get and you telling her you love the feel of her little cunt.

(It's really not like you're trying to prove something by being super rough. Yuna just happens to really, really like the feel of a thick cock pounding into her. Maybe Nayeon was right – her taking it from the back was a good idea.

Or maybe she's just a slut.

Who knows?)

"Yeah," you growl. You reach forward and grab a handful of her hair, pull her body against yours. "Take my cock baby."

"I can take it," she gasps, the breath knocked out of her. Her fingers curl against the bedsheets and she's just taking your cock. She's a lot easier to please than Nayeon – less stubborn about being in control, but also much, much more willing to please. "Oh God, fuck me, please..."

You slam deep inside her. Her body jerks forward and the sound that comes from her mouth is a mix between a cry and a gasp. "Please what?"

"Fuck me harder," she says. She's practically begging for it. "Make me cum. Please, please make me cum!"

Taking up her request is all you really wanna do. She didn’t need to add the multiple pleads, but you took some pleasure in hearing it.

You grab ahold of her shoulders, pull her close till she's almost upright. "You're gonna cum around my dick," you growl. You start a series of rapid, hard thrusts and her body goes limp in your arms. "And you're gonna make a mess of yourself."

She nods frantically. She's a mess already, all sweaty and red. The sounds that leave her mouth are incoherent. With two fingers pressing hard and directly against her clit, you start circling on it, making her a complete fucking wreck in the middle of your room as you really try to get her off. There's a sweet spot you find after a moment – the pad of your digits slipping around the nub and her knees give, almost making her buckle until she's flat on her stomach on the bed, crying and shaking as you use her like a toy.

"Please... Fuck... Don't stop, oh God don't stop!" Her cries are like a prayer to you. You've never heard anything like it. You fuck her right through it, watching as her back arches and her legs twitch, until she's almost completely gone. There's only a little bit more left. She just needs a little extra push.

So you decide to go a little hard. You hold her by her hips, keep her legs shut, and thrust directly down onto her pussy with a force you'd only reserve for someone like Nayeon. Her eyes roll back in her head as you really take her like you've wanted to ever since you started; it's almost animalistic how you really try to get her to cum as hard as she can. You can almost feel her orgasm build up in her body. Her breathing grows shorter and more erratic and she's mewling in her throat – so close. You can taste it.

"You like my cock don't you?" You reach around, give her tits a squeeze. She almost cums from that.

"Yes," she whimpers. You know she's not playing the part – she genuinely wants your dick. "Please... Let me cum on your cock..."

(You don’t admit it verbally, but you like it when girls beg. Nayeon never does, and it’s a novelty now that she’s doing it.)

You hold her down with an arm on her lower back. Her head's to the side, hair plastered to her skin with sweat as you fuck her from behind. She's panting and whining, begging you for more; “please please more”. You like that. It's cute. You wanna hear it. So you go harder. She screams into the sheets, but the sounds are muffled, but she's pretty loud nonetheless. It's good to see her let go like this, really let loose and not hold anything back. There's a fire that she ignites inside you. "Fuck..."

It's like a little fire that ignites and grows bigger, burns brighter with each thrust. She's so tight and so fucking wet; the wet sounds that accompany each thrust really turns you on. Your body feels so hot. There's this warmth that spreads across your entire body with every passing second. She moans and cries, whimpering as you nail her into the sheets.

Then there's this moment of clarity that hits her, and she looks back at you – she smiles, eyes half-lidded and she whispers something to you.

"Cum inside me," she says. She's shaking. "Please..."

Your rhythm grows sloppy as you edge closer and closer to the climax. Your cock feels like it's growing harder, bigger – there's this throb in it and your body's all tensed up. It feels like something inside you is going to snap, break loose and make you cum. It's not the best feeling in the world, but the way it grows stronger and stronger really makes your toes curl and your skin tingle.

And she's so beautiful like this: spread out for you, skin sweaty, cheeks red, and ass in the air as you fuck her. It's the best way you can ever imagine her – she looks like she belongs to you like this, her body a playground for your lust, and she wants it just as much as you do. There's a mutual feeling between the two of you.

The pleasure comes and it hits you like a train. It feels like something inside your balls tighten and then snap and then there's this euphoria that envelopes you. You feel your cock pulse with every burst of semen that spurts from the head. Yuna cries as her pussy gets filled and filled, until it's running out and dripping from her cunt, but you can't stop fucking her. You want to feel that sweet, sweet release, to see how long it will go, to really enjoy this moment. She feels amazing, and your heart pounds and you want her so badly. You need her.

She cums — It's a hard, shuddering orgasm that wracks her body. She cums and she screams for you, and she makes a mess of herself as promised. It's really fucking hot – the way she completely loses her composure and her legs shudder violently as you pound her pussy through it all, soaking in the perverted pleasure she brings you while you fuck her freshly-creamed pussy till your hips kinda give. You collapse on her, panting and grunting on top of her while she struggles to breathe.

In this moment. She isn’t like Nayeon in the slightest.

She’s a welcome change of pace. 

***

“Thinking back… There were signs in highschool that I probably ignored.”

And the water sloshes around as Yuna shifts a little in the bathtub. She’s found it to her liking to prop herself up against you, let her head rest against your shoulder while you hold her close to your chest. You’ll admit that it’s a bit of an awkward arrangement, but there was no way you could just not indulge her after she asks to take a bath with you. 

“The worst part is that they weren’t even, like, subtle,” she tells you, just sort of staring out into the distance while she talked.  “He’d punch things when he got angry, even slapped a referee after he lost a game… Love is blind huh?”

You held her a little closer to your chest. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah, well, my mistakes left me with no physical scars but the emotional ones are plenty.”

You hope she can’t see you grimace. It’s hard to recover from these types of things, especially if you realise the stupidity behind your decisions.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you tell her, and you really mean it. “It must be difficult… You know: recovering.”

The front of her lips curve up. “Thanks. I try not to let it weigh me down too much but… Just kinda happens to come out every now and then.”

You get it, you really do. Not that you’ve been in an abusive relationship like hers before, but you understand what it’s like. It’s sad really: being unable to break out of a cycle that hurts you the more you try to stay and change it. You admire the young girl’s strength, envy her courage for finally breaking the cycle and freeing herself for good. 

“You’re safe now,” you whisper, moving some wet hair out of her face. “I will never hurt you. I promise.”

She smiles at that. “Thank you,” she says while pinching your cheek, “that means a lot to me.”

Then you bask in the silence for a little, taking in the smell of the bath salts and the feel of Yuna’s soft skin against yours. It’s a pretty romantic moment till Yuna’s bluntness breaks it.

“I’m, like, really wet,” she announces, gazing up at you from her position on your shoulder. You laugh. 

“Didn’t you just cum?”

“Good things come in threes.”

She fixes you with a look, like she knows that you’re gonna give in.

(And you know what? She’s absolutely right. Can’t say no to a pretty girl.)

***

“Well hello to you too.”

Nayeon sounds almost angry on the other side of the video call. On your end, you have your phone’s back camera pointed to the current situation: Yuna atop of you, thighs locked around your cock as her hips rock up and down steadily. Her thighs are warm, pillowy; makes you grit your teeth while she moves languidly.

“Nayeon!” Yuna exclaims, almost too saccharine as she keeps her eyes locked on yours. “We were just thinking of you.”

She isn’t lying. Just moments before her call came, you two were making a joke about how she’d never let you get away with as much as Yuna did. It was a pretty humorous conversation, almost comedic if it wasn’t for the fact that Yuna was tugging your sweats down your thighs. 

But, there she was, still moving in your lap. Yuna leans forward, hands planted on your chest as she continues to rock her hips, ass bouncing a little against your thighs.

You can hear a scoff from Nayeon.

Yuna turns her head to the screen, eyes looking at the phone but her hands still pushing on your chest, fingers flexing. "We really were," she whines, lips jutted into a pout. You watch her as her lips curl into a small smirk just a second later, her teeth peeking out, and you can feel your face grow warm when she looks back at you.

"Tell her what we were talking about," she orders, her voice soft but firm.

"Um...we were just, um—" you stutter out, and your throat goes dry as her hips keep going, her thigh muscles clenching around you.

"Go on."

"We were...just, uh, talking about how you're not here," you finally manage to get out.

"Aww, baby...” Nayeon is smiling. It’s sarcasm by the way; she's enjoying this as much as Yuna is.

Yuna's pout returns. "See, Nayeon?" She continues to roll her hips against you. "We were thinking of you,” she reiterates, making sure she has your eye contact while she fucks you with her heavenly thighs, “I know it's not fair that you aren't here, but he’s just so fucking hard… Someone had to do something about it.”

Nayeon gives a snort. “You two are lucky I’m not alone in my room right now.”

“And what would happen if you were?” Yuna challenges. You don’t recall her being this daring.

“Playing with myself, obviously,” the older girl replies. “You think I’d just watch you get him off with your thighs? I barely let that boy dominate me.”

Yuna chuckles and smiles your way.

“What a horrible situation,” she whispers, moving a little faster. “Luckily I’m here to pamper him.”

“And he’d better enjoy it while it lasts,” Nayeon smirks. “When I’m home he’s–”

Yuna cuts her off by hanging up. You stare wide-eyed in shock as she tosses the phone aside. “Too noisy. I can’t multitask,” she explains. “Call her back later. Let’s get back to it.”

With that, Yuna leans over you, her chest pressed to yours as she gives a slow grind in your lap, her hips moving in a figure eight. Your head rolls back, and you release a loud, drawn-out groan. Her thighs are so smooth against your cock, so warm, so soft. You wish you could bury your face in between them. The way her hips move is incredible; she knows what she wants, knows how to work you.

You try to sit up, but Yuna pushes you back down by your chest. Her lips curve into a smile, and she shakes her head.

"Stay down," she whispers, "you don't wanna ruin this, do you?"

"No."

"Then stay still. I'll make it quick."

Quick is an understatement. She's barely rocking her hips in your lap, but with how soft her thighs are, and the way they grip you like a vice, you know it'll probably be over sooner or later. You make a note to try and make this last for as long as you can. Yuna leans over you again, hands on your chest as she gives a rough buck of her hips. Your head snaps back and you let out a loud groan. She continues to grind against you, slowly, making sure to hit every sensitive part of your cock. You reach up to grab her hips, but she slaps your hands away.

"No touching," she tuts. "Let me do the work. You relax."

Your lips open to protest. She shushes you with a finger. 

"Own me later," she whispers, sliding the finger down to the point where your collar bones meet. "Let me take care of you now."

You gulp, nodding.

Yuna's hands settle back on your chest, nails dragging across your skin, making you shiver. She's looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty pink lips curled into a smirk as her hips pick up pace. The friction is incredible; Yuna's thighs feel like silk wrapped around your cock, warm and soft; the way they're clamped around you has you seeing stars. Your breath hitches in your throat when Yuna moves faster.

(And another thing about her: she’s so fucking good at pleasuring you that she always makes you lose your ability to think.)

"Fuck..." You moan, throwing your head back. "Feels so good..."

She smiles at that, giving a small hum of approval. "Does it?" She asks. "Good."

You look up at her, watching her roll her hips. She's really putting in work, moving in all sorts of ways to make sure you're feeling the most pleasure. It's not lost on you; she's an angel, and you thank every god there is for having her. Your cock throbs between her thighs, aching. The head is flushed red and leaking precum, which smears all over Yuna's thighs as she keeps moving. Your toes curl in the sheets, fingers gripping the fabric as she rides you.

Yuna continues to roll her hips, giving a few rough bucks when she feels like it. You're groaning and moaning under her, letting out all kinds of sounds that make her chuckle. She's having fun teasing you, getting you close to orgasm only to slow down and watch your face contort with pleasure.

"Don't cum yet," she says softly, running her hands over your chest. "We just started."

"I-I know," you reply, breathless. "But I...fuck..."

Yuna giggles. "That good?"

"Yeah. Fuck… don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby."

You throw your head back, your hips twitching under hers. Yuna chuckles, keeping her thighs locked around you. Your cock aches, throbbing between them as she moves; precum drips onto her legs, which only makes the slide easier for her. You're starting to sweat; your body's temperature rises with each passing moment, the feeling of her thighs overwhelming you. Yuna's so warm against you, so soft and pliable; you can't help but imagine her underneath you, moaning and writhing as you fuck her. The thought has you bucking your hips up into her, causing her to gasp.

"Someone's eager," Yuna teases, running a hand through her hair. "What's going through your head?"

You groan in response, your hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. "Nothing," you lie.

She snorts, knowing full well what's on your mind.

"Liar." She rocks her hips forward. "What are you thinking about?"

You gaze at her for a moment. "If I said you... Would you believe me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Wouldn't put it past you," she stops moving for a bit to give you the attention. "What are you doing to me in your head?"

"I never said–"

"Please," she interjects "We both know you want to bend me over the nearest fucking surface and fuck my brains out right now."

Her thighs start moving again. Your head falls back and a moan escapes you.

"Can you blame me?" You say. She smiles.

"No, not really. I am pretty hot anyway."

(There’s that little bit of Nayeon in her.)

You nod. "You're so fucking good to me." You manage to get out.

Yuna chuckles. "Wanna know something?"

"What?"

"I love the way you feel between my thighs," she tells you. "And I love how you sound when I'm making you feel good. I want to hear more of it."

With that, she leans forward, pressing her lips to yours. Her hips keep moving, rolling against you at an agonizing pace, causing you to moan against her mouth. She's quite literally giving you everything you want, injecting some mischief here and there that makes it feel like Nayeon possesses her sporadically. She's more gentle though, more kind and more caring too. Okay, not that Nayeon doesn't care, but she's kinda ruthless when she's horny. Yuna's much more caring, and a lot more willing to be a pillow princess. She likes being pampered. She likes being loved on and adored. She wants to be fucked and she wants to be taken care of. It's a mutual feeling between the two of you. You'll worship her, and she'll love you for it.

Yuna pulls away from the kiss, moving to your neck. She gives it a few open-mouthed kisses, nipping at your skin. You sigh, letting your head fall back. She continues to rock her hips against yours, grinding down onto your cock. Her hands slide up your chest, nails digging into your skin, eliciting a gasp from you. 

Yuna chuckles, kissing up your neck to your ear. "You're so big," she whispers. "So fucking thick... Feels so good."

You groan, fingers gripping her hips.

"You like that?" She asks. "Like me talking about your cock?"

You nod.

"I love it," and she talks with a purr. "Love how it feels inside me... How deep it goes... How hard it throbs..." She whispers—no. Moans all this right into your ear. "Fuck... I really want this thing inside me right now."

"Later," you quickly propose. "Please?"

She laughs — sweet and melodic. "Never said that I would put it inside of me," she reminds you. "Now, you zip up and make a mess for me, okay?"

You moan in response, nodding your head. You can't deny her, not when she's making you feel this good.

Yuna keeps moving against you, her thighs clenching around your cock. She moves slowly, her hips rolling at an agonizing pace. Your cock is aching; you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax with each passing second.  Your eyes are glued to her thighs, watching them move. She looks so good on top of you. Her hips are hypnotic; your mind spins as she fucks you.

Your eyes move up to her face. Her eyes are closed, lips parted slightly as she focuses on her movements. Her hands are still on your chest, fingers flexing. Her breathing is heavy, warm breath fanning over your skin. You take in her beauty, letting it consume you. She's so fucking perfect, so angelic. Hard to believe how much of a slut she can be.

"I'm close," you manage to get out. "Yuna..."

She smiles. "Go ahead, baby."

"Don't wanna make a mess." You say.

Yuna giggles, her hips picking up pace. "Too late for that."

That's what sends you over the edge. 

You cum; it’s fucking messy. 

Cum fills the space between your dick and her thighs, slathering and flowing and spurting onto everything it can possibly get on. It slicks the insides of her legs; gets on her ass a little and pools beneath her crotch. Yuna hums in satisfaction, a smile on her face as she turns behind her to survey the damage.

“Clean up on aisle four,” she mutters, reaching back to wipe some cum off her ass. She sends her fingers into her mouth – makes a big show of sucking them clean. You can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight.

“Hey,” you call her, your hands reaching down to grope her ass. “I’m planning to change the sheets tomorrow.”

She gives you a look. “Are you saying that cause you’re actually going to? Or because you just want to fuck me right now.”

Oh and she’s perceiving you almost too accurately. You won’t admit your answer, even to yourself. 

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Either way: we’ll have to change the sheets.”

Yuna matches your game.

“Call Nayeon back,” she instructs. “Let’s show her what she’s missing.”

***

Again: Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it really.

The decision—for today—was made somewhere halfway through the drive to fetch Yuna. You were just talking about how Nayeon had picked that girl up, and her voice trails off as she passes the exit sign. She just keeps on driving while pretending to look like she’s in the right. The GPS doesn’t lie though: it keeps on promoting her to U-turn at every opportunity that’s available to her. She ignores it of course, kinda tunes it out even though the instructions are really getting annoying now (and not to mention it sounds like it’s demanding her to go back this instant, like a mum who just can’t get her kid to listen). It’s like how she ignores you lately.

“She’s probably gonna think we crashed or something,” you muse, lurching in your seat a little as she takes a left. “We’re like, what, fifteen minutes late or something?”

“Nah,” Nayeon quickly refutes. She stops to let a BMW swerve around the corner before she gently taps on the gas. “She’s probably still packing her things,” the turning signal clicks at a steady tempo, stops after she takes the 3rd exit on the roundabout, “maybe even settling a bit of her make up or whatever.”

This is the most she’s spoken since her return.

You hazard a glance at the GPS. The blue line leading you back to your intended destination only grows longer, sometimes glitching a little as the turn of Nayeon’s car gives it the illusion that you’re heading back when she’s really just turning into a one way street. You can’t tell if she knows where she’s going or if she’s just throwing out random bullshit.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbles, casting a rather nasty glance your way. “I’m just taking a shortcut. That’s all.”

(Is it not painfully obvious where this is going?)

And a few minutes later, she’s got you gritting your teeth in the backseat of her car. No smug remarks from her — she has your balls in her mouth and she’s getting real sloppy in some alley she’s parked in. You don’t know where to begin, where to find solid reasoning for what you’re witnessing and feeling right now. It’s pretty fucking asinine (and she probably knows that it is) and damn straight goes against all branches of logic. In no world does she have a valid reason for being this horny at 11am on a Saturday.

(Actually, there’s one reason: she just feels like it.)

“You do know that we’re both astronomically fucked if anyone so much as glances our way.” You’re ashamed to admit that this actually has you hissing, partly out of annoyance and partly out of pleasure. “You’re fucking ridiculous. I hope you know that.”

Nayeon spits on your cock. Her hands close into a fist around your shaft, her eyes almost empty as she spreads her saliva in a close to even layer over you. “Are you quite done?” She asks. The emptiness in her voice is kinda scary. It makes her sound exasperated, like she’s sick of your reasonings. “You know, you talk an awful lot for someone who literally writhes when I quite fucking literally touch your cock. Don’t act tough on me. We both know who you are. We both know you’re my toy.”

Figuring out if this is part of the bit is the hardest part of your predicament. She plays too much as of late: with her eyes, her tone, her facial expressions… Sometimes it makes you wonder if she really keeps you around just to satisfy her cock cravings or if she really wants you around. Ever since she’s gotten back, it feels like she’s been fucking you and Yuna with nothing but pure hate. You feel it in her eyes, in the violent buck of her hips when she rides you or even in the way she spanks Yuna with a little too much glee. It confounds you; admittedly: you’re petrified of the possibility that she’s straight up jealous of how your relationship with Yuna’s been going since she roped her into this mess.

You can’t help it. You need to know.

You grab her by the wrist, a little harder than you’d like but it’ll have to do. “Stop,” and you don’t mean to be assertive, but it’s all you can summon now. “I need you to answer me honestly.”

In the passenger-side seat, Nayeon fixes her gaze on yours. She tries to struggle from your grasp; you keep a firm grip.

“What are we?” you ask, straightforward; direct. You’ve been with Yuna enough times to know that this’ll elicit an honest response from her. “Cause it just feels like I’m just your piece of meat to fuck and own. We don’t talk, you don’t even look at me when we go to sleep… What are we Nayeon?”

And it makes her freeze. Your sincerity is scary to her — ropes her into your thoughts more than you usually do. She’s silent, face blanker than paper. Her fingers on the hand that you’ve got in your grasp curl a little. “We’re just fuck buddies… That’s all.”

You just stare at her for a second, soak in the weight of that statement. “Then why does it feel like you’re jealous of Yuna?”

“I’m not. What are you even…” You can tell she’s surprised — her eyes do that thing where they widen, and then she blinks. Your question is loaded to her: it catches her in a place where she’s made privy to the fact that her emotions are more out there and perceptible than she’d like.

You raise an eyebrow. “Come on… We both know that’s not true.”

Her plump lips purse. She looks away for a moment.

“And what would you do if I said I was jealous?” she raises. “Kick her out? Stop fucking her?”

She raises a valid argument. Frankly, you didn’t bring this up with the end goal of sorting this out. You just wanted the older girl to accept her emotions, maybe acknowledge that it’s a little petty and then kinda just move on. Of course, nothing with Nayeon is ever really that simple.

“You’re the one that brought her into this,” you remind her, partly because you feel like she isn’t acknowledging her fault in this situation and partly because you have nothing else to say.

She rips her hand away. “So it’s my fault then?”

“What?” you sit up a little in your seat. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Her eyes sear your soul with her frustration. This hurts her more than you think. “I’m saying we’re both a little guilty here,” you clarify. “We both have a part to play in how you feel, so maybe we should just talk this out.”

She goes quiet. Too quiet considering the circumstance.

“Later.” She decides. “I think better with a load inside of me.”

***

So to reiterate: they're similar but kinda different. 

“Jesus… Did you really have to get it on my dress?” Nayeon’s clearly pissed. The wet wipe in her hand rubs at the stain of her dress furiously, as if the aggressive motion will kinda just get it out magically. Yuna retires into your arms, her sweat-matted hair sticking to your chest a little. The syntax behind how you got to this point is more complicated that you’d care to elaborate on, but let’s just say: Nayeon was happier a second ago…

(Okay but to be fair: her dress was in the way when you pulled out. So it’s like, half your fault, but you like to play the victim.)

“Relax,” Yuna assures her senior. “It’ll wash right off.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue in annoyance. “You stop defending him. He knows what he’s done.”

Yuna giggles. She smiles up at you. “Yeah… He does.”

They don’t know it, but they’ve got a pretty good dynamic going: Mother-daughter; Spicy and Sweet; Sour Cream and Onion. They contrast, diverge; but they compliment each other almost perfectly. 

(It’s no family reunion; but it’s dinner and diatribes from here on out.)

—

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Hope you will be full of joy and fulfill your dreams next year!

Anyway! This is lokwey the start of a series where I just kinda explore more filthy and complicated things, stuff that’s just not quite right but somehow works. I won’t be following the same idols and people, so this isn’t exactly an interlinked series. Hard to explain but you guys can just come to your own conclusions really.

~Nichu

[steveseddie]

apply directly to the forehead

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3

No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.

There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 

“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 

Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”

Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 

“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 

“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 

Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 

“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 

“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”

Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”

“But the party–”

“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 

Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 

He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 

“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.

“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 

Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.

“No van?” 

“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”

Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 

Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 

He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 

He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 

Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”

Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”

“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”

Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  

After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”

“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.

“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”

“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 

Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 

“Because you didn’t mean it or–”

“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”

“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 

Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”

Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”

“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”

“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 

“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.

“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 

Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

omg can u do a small drabble where we’re arguing w toji and whenever we ask him a question he just reply’s with “no maam” or “yes maam” i need these so bad.

Yes Mam

Tags: Toji x fem!Reader, drabble, very slight angst, more fluff and crack than anything lol

An: Hiii! Thanks for your submission! I hope you don’t mind, but I added some period comfort throughout lol.

It had been a bad day.

It was the first and most brutal day of your period, and everything had been going wrong so far.

“Toji Fushiguro!” You shouted as your bottom touched the bitter cold toilet water. With no toilet seat to catch you, you had fallen right inside the bowl.

Your husband had a bad habit of leaving it up in the mornings. He was groggy when waking up, and he would forget to put the seat back down for you. When he was awake, he’d make a conscious effort to put it down so you wouldn’t fall in.

You were usually cautious enough to check before sitting down, but today you were in a rush and in too much of a pained headspace to think about checking. Thus, you had fallen right inside the golden throne with your knees to your chest and your bottom all cold and wet.

“Mam?” Toji replied as he peaked his head into the bathroom. His face contorted into the tightest expression to fight back a laugh. He knew that if he laughed at you right now, your mood would he sour for the rest of the day.

“You left the goddamn toilet seat up!” You whined, trying your best to let out a frustrated growl. Toji found you to be more cute than intimidating.

“I’m sorry, babydoll. Come here. Let me help you.” He said as he walked into the bathroom, extending his arm out to you as a peace offering.

You shook your head, deciding to get yourself up. You didn’t want peace. You needed retribution for his cosmic sin!

Toji watched as you climbed out of the toilet bowl. His lips were still pressed in a thin line. He could not even crack a smile right now.

“Did you even take out the trash like I asked?” You asked with a pointed gaze. Now, it was time to see what other misdeeds Toji had committed.

“Yes mam.” He replied as his gaze softened. He knew you were having a rough time and needed to vent out some frustrations. Too bad for you, Toji had been working around the house since he got out of bed this morning.

“What about the dishes-?”

“Washed and put away, mam.”

“…Okay… what about that leaky faucet? Did you get it fixed?”

“Yes mam.”

“Oh… uh.. What about the light bill?”

“Paid it this morning, mam.”

“Stop calling me that.” You finally snapped with a small pout. You were interrogating him like his mother, and he was responding to you as if you were his mom. It was weird and unsettling. “I’m doll or baby or some weird mixture of both — not mam.” Your lips curled into a pout that had Toji finally giving you his lopsided grin.

“C’mere, dollface.” He grunted as you got back decent and walked over to him, leaning into his embrace. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. “I got it, okay? You go relax in bed for the day. I know ya ain’t feeling good.”

You melted under his touch and caring tone. Toji didn’t seem like the type to be so gentle and patient, but it came easy when it was with you. He adored you, and he felt this innate desire to just provide and take care of you.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured weakly into his chest, and Toji rubbed soothing circles into your back.

“I know. It’s okay.” He assured you quietly before taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. He already had you a little spot prepared with your favorite blanket, a heating pad, pain medicine, and a cup of water.

Once he got you settled in, he handed you your nintendo switch and dimmed the lights. “Text me if ya need me, doll. I’m going out to try to fix that tire pressure sensor in your car.” He informed.

“Okay..” You replied in a shaky tone. Your eyes were full of tears. No one had ever taken care of you like Toji does. He’s truly set an unattainable standard for anyone else to reach.

“Don’t cry.” Toji laughed as he brushed the tears away from your cheeks. Your hormones must be affecting you like crazy to make you go from seething to crying within a minute.

“I love you, Toji.” You said, nuzzling your face into his arm.

“I love you too, mam.” He replied with a small kiss to your cheek and a head pat. You shot him a small glare from that dreadful nickname he has developed.

Toji quickly fled the room before your hormones could shift again.

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[zuppizup]

10

“So... ten babies, eh?”

Callum visibly cringed, eyes darting around the kitchen. Runaan and Ethari had disappeared again, leaving them to prepare dinner.

“Like, I said, I, uh, didn’t mean it like that-” Face bright red, he sighed, putting the knife down on the chopping board and turning to give her his full attention.

“Oh, how did you mean it?” She struggled not to laugh at him, his flushed appearance and stammering beyond adorable.

“We were talking about what a baby might be like if a human and elf had kids.” Callum sighed, rolling his eyes. “And then Lira decided to tease me-”

“Just talking about any random elf/human babies, were you?”

“Em, well, no... I guess not.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But they started it!”

“So, three kids got the better of you and you’re wanting ten?” She tried desperately to not to laugh.

“I told you, I didn’t say I wanted us to have ten.” He rolled his eyes, sighing at her teasing, before he grew a little more serious. “But, well, I meant what I said, I want us to be together. To have a life together.” He took her hands, smiling that soft, sweet smile of his. “And yeah, I guess that would involve, you know, babies. If you want them, that is.”

Rayla’s heart raced as she squeezed his hands and stepped closer to him. “I… I do.” She sighed happily, pressing her forehead against his. “I do want all of that with you, Callum. I love you.”

She wanted forever with him and had for longer than she could remember now. With Aaravos imprisoned and Callum free from the stain of dark magic, forever finally seemed like a possibility.

“I love you too,” Callum sighed happily, slipping his hands around her waist and kissing her softly. “Being with you- Us here together... it’s pretty near perfect... this nice, quiet life.”

“I don’t think ten babies would mean a quiet life.” She teased, slipping her hands up his chest and around his neck.

“Hmm, good point.” He chuckled, pulling her closer. “Pride Grandpa Ethari could help. And Runaan.” Grinning, he caressed her waist “Though he didn’t look impressed with the idea of ten grand kids.”

“I think he was probably a bit more concerned with you talking about us making babies at all.” She ran her fingers through his hair, resting her forehead against his. “And I am not having ten babies, thank you very much.”

“Na, that makes sense.” He smirked. “Obviously at least ten.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, unable to keep the amused smirk from her lips. “At least?!”

He shrugged, leaning in to her and kissing her softly. “What, you want twenty?”

[poespetraven]

Hiiiiiii hellooooooooo hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii so uh funny story I haven’t watched the new episode yet…

LET ME EXPLAIN

(!!!spoilers for both the X-tale comic and series below!!! (I’ve never tried using the “keep reading” line thingy ooh this is exciting! Heehee look at me being all tumblr proficient! (I still have no idea as to what I’m doing (shoot sorry I got distracted.))))

I DID REREAD THE X-TALE COMIC AND REWATCH THE X-TALE SERIES THO AND OH MY GOSH I FORGOT HOW MUCH I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THE X-TALE COMIC, ESPECIALLY THE 2ND HALF OF IT LIKE OH MY GOSH I FORGOT SO MANY LITTLE DETAILS THAT MAKE IT SO MUCH MORE DEVASTATING BRO WHY DO I NEED REREAD THIS MORE OFTEN WHAT AM I DOING?!?!

Anyways, that was fun! I guess in a way it was kinda fun having not read it in a while cause like I got to be surprised by some things I forgot. Like Cross almost killing Frisk in the very beginning and then panicking about it and feeling awful. The slow build up of his suspicion of Frisk. And the whole deal with Papyrus secretly protecting Cross from his blasters to make Undyne and Frisk think he killed Cross. I had been thinking that Cross saved himself for a while now. And you know what? You know what that does? YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MAKES EXTRA DEVASTATING?! YOU KNOW WHAT OTHER KNIFE TWISTING DETAIL I FORGOT?! CROSS INITIALLY SPARED PAPYRUS! DO YOU REMEMBER THAT?! DO YOU?!?!?!? CAUSE I DIDN’T! I FORGOT! BUT AFTER CROSS KILLED EVERYBODY HE LEFT PAPYRUS TOTALLY UNHARMED AND WAS LIKE “Papyrus wants me happy 🥰” AND PAPYRUS IS JUST LIKE STANDING THERE AND THEN HE’S LIKE HES LIKE “yeah but like maybe you went like a little too far-“ THEN BOOM HES FUCKING DEAD. CROSS KILLS HIM! LIKE URGHHHHHH IT HURTS IT PHYSICALLY HURTS ME! AND THEN LIKE WHAT HAPPENS DIRECTLY AFTER? LIKE I FORGOT ABOUT FRISK TRYING TO GIVE CROSS THE HEART LOCKET AND THEN CHARA ACCIDENTALLY KILLING FRISK!!! LIKE I HAVE I ROBBED MYSELF BY NOT REMEMBERING THIS ANGST! IT MAKES CROSS’ REALIZATION THAT HE CAN’T ACTUALLY BRING EVERYBODY BACK EVEN MORE DEVASTATING!

So uh yeah I had a very fun time rereading the comic. And then I rewatched the X-Take series like the next day and OH MY GOSH IT WAS EVEN BETTER HAVING JUST READ THE COMIC LIKE IT JUST HITS SO MUCH HARDER AND I should probably stop there before I jump into another rant. This post was not supposed to be this long oops. I’ll just summarize what I was going to say by saying that this series gives me Feelings and Emotions.

BUT I STILL HAVENT WATCHED THE NEW UNDERVERSE EPISODE! I’ve being holding off for a day when my family is out of the house for long enough for me to rewatch all of Underverse Season 2 plus the new episode cause I want to try and see if I can put it on our television. BUT GUYS I DONT KNOW IF I CAN WAIT ANY LONGER! I THINK IM GONNA CAVE! LIKE I DON’T NEED TO WATCH IT LIKE THAT! LIKE ITS A NICE IDEA SURE BUT LIKE WOULD I REALLY ENJOY THE EPISODE LESS IF I DIDN’T WATCH IT LIKE THAT? NO! WHY AM I DOING THIS! I DONT KNOW! WHY AM POSTING THIS ON TUMBLR? WHY AM I STILL TYPING? WHO IS EVEN GOING TO READ THIS? HEY YOU THERE! YEAH YOU! WHY ARE YOU READING THIS? WHATS GOING ON?

…well I think I have officially decided that I am not going to wait until the house is empty to watch the new episode cause that’s stupid. I’m going watch it on my laptop with my headphones and a cozy blanket on my bed the way it was intended and it is going to be fucking fantastic.

UNDERVERSE 0.8 PART 1 Premiere

[vaguely-concerned]

huh. you know something I just consciously put together for the first time about caterina and lucanis' relationship is that through the game we get to hear them talk about each other a lot, but we get very few chances to hear them speak with each other at any length at all. contrast it with other companions whose storylines have elements of 'believed lost/long time no see relative returns!' like bellara and davrin, where we get to see both of them have several pretty in-depth conversations with cyrian and eldrin. hell I think even rook talks with varric longer in the regret prison scene than we ever get to see lucanis and caterina interact directly.

(and when we do see them interact, it's mostly one-sided -- it is, perhaps unsurprisingly, caterina who is doing most of the talking and giving all the orders, as he ruefully observes is her wont after murder of crows. including jumpscaring him with 'you're first talon now btw' and the shocked pikachu face in five acts he goes through in response lmao. perhaps it's more accurate to say that she talks at him and he reacts, than that they talk to each other much.)

it has such an interesting effect too, because in deliberately denying us direct insight or experience and only having this mosaic of description from each of them to go on, as well as forcing us to pay attention to the negative space of what is carefully not said, it's evocative along the same principle that you never actually show the monster in a horror film. if you've read the wigmaker job you have a clearer image of the more uh. worrying elements at play here going in, but there is something fascinatingly insidious and naturalistic in the way it's 'hushed up' in the game itself. she has his complete loyalty both as a member of her house and, more importantly, that of an abused child to a parent figure. he readily admits several times that she's a difficult person to live with, an even more difficult person to be loved by ("even for me. and I was her favourite")... but never once does he actively blame her nor truly conceptualize that he has every right to do so (that he can be angry with her and still love her, because whether he should or not he unavoidably does), or that she might have acted differently than she did, that she made a choice every time to hurt him. even affectionately he speaks of her as a force of nature, an act of god -- something that can't be reasoned or pleaded with or resisted, something you can only hope to navigate with as little pain as possible and pray to survive. let yourself get carried away by the riptide, resisting it will only make it worse. you don't compromise with a hurricane, you just try to find the best shelter you can and cross your fingers while you wait for it to pass and be calm again.

love is that hurricane. you do whatever she asks. you earn her continued affection day by day by never letting her down. you only want the things she tells you it's okay to want and cut everything else away preemptively. ("A wyvern tooth dagger?? I loved wyverns as a boy --Caterina would never let me have one of these, though." and as we have all wept and gnashed our teeth over, it never even OCCURS to him that he's a like thirty-five year old adult man who can buy himself any dagger he wants at any time. she said he couldn't have one. so he'll never have one. that's just how it works. and maybe if Illario could just accept that and find his peace with it like I have, this whole thing wouldn't be so difficult. oh lucanis.)

such is the price -- and the cost -- of being loved by her, it's a loan on which the interest will never stop piling up. you have to keep paying it down in perfection every day if you want to keep it. who got the worse deal there: the grandson who has abandoned everything else in life to live up to that and mostly succeeded, until the day he's so burned out and broken it threatens to no longer be an option, or the grandson who can never seem to scrape together enough worth in her eyes no matter how he begs, borrows or steals it, how he hustles and plays dirty?

one of the worst things that can happen to anyone is to be loved by a selfish god. another one of the worst things that can ever happen to anyone is to not be loved by a selfish god. (hope that helps, boys!) even in betraying everything else, Illario can't bring himself to hurt his grandmother, because that would defeat the whole point. who would he defiantly be proving himself worthy to, without her. in love, devotion, submission, hatred, frustration, bitterness, everything is defined in relation to her, you can spot the gravitational force of it through how the dellamorte family move through time and space. she -- her love and regard and attention -- is still the sun both of their worlds orbit around, even as adults. the game might never tell you outright 'she used to beat and starve them growing up. for their own good you see, so they'd be strong (and broken down enough for her to build them up again however she wanted but I'm sure that's incidental)', but if you know even a little bit about how these dynamics can work the writing is on the wall everywhere you look and all the more unsettling for it.

follow lucanis' freeze-logic and fraught interpersonal catch 22 irreconcilable mixed emotions problems back far enough, looong before the ossuary entered the picture, and you start to see caterina's ghost around every fucking corner. she is so proud of him. (well, she would be. she made him. she forged exactly the knife she needed and it rests willingly, devotedly, in her hands, it would return to her every time because it doesn't know love as anything but to be a knife. his tama never taught him how to be anything else. his biggest fear with her is that she won't even want him back, the way he is now.) to the best ability of her soul, whatever parts of it survived a lifetime of crow politics and 'five children, eight grandchildren, only Illario and me left now', I think she really does loves him. he certainly loves her, with all the sincerity and artless desperation of a child, of the little boy he was once. and what she's done to him (and to illario, for all his shitty gremlin scar-ass antics lol) is awful. the harm is real, and the love is real, and trying to find a way for these two truths to exist in the same space is driving all three of them their own individualized forms of insane. you know. the way only family can and so often does lol.

through implications and short glimpses and having to put the pieces together yourself, you can have the feeling that there is very genuine mutual love and attachment in this relationship... and that beneath that there is something so profoundly wrong. and the sneaking '...oh shit it gets worse the longer I think about it' horror of that is more effective for me at least than the stark in-your-face presentation of the facts of the matter could have been. the love is here. the love is here. it only ever makes it worse.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

But I'm not much of anything (but you're everything to me)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: sirius black x reader (gender neutral), implied poly marauders x reader

length: 1.8k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort

warnings: winter break angst I suppose, you're so young you don't have to be everything you want yet, you have time you learn and you grow and you become blah blah blah lol

a/n: me ?? posting a fic ?? wooow wowow anyway this is in the poly marauders series but it can totally be read stand alone

"I brought you your jacket." Your voice is quiet as it floats through the crisp night air, the sound hushed as Sirius cranes his head around to see you slipping through the back door and shutting it gently behind you. 

"You didn't need to do that."

"It's cold out here," you point out. There's a sort of familiarity that Sirius can't help but find some level of comfort in when he shrugs the heavy jacket on, the dark shine of the leather stark against the pale skin of his neck.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" he asks a bit sullenly, wincing and brushing a stray hair out of your face as if to make up for his bluntness. But you just wrinkle your nose and lean against the porch railing, looking out toward the rolling white lawn of James's family home.

"Oh," you shrug lightly. "Just needed some fresh air." Sirius fixes you with a stare at your words, though, and you smile a bit sheepishly. "James pulled out the board games," you admit. "I was looking for an escape."

"Oh, so that's all I am to you?" Sirius quips, but the softness in your returning smile catches him a bit too off guard and he feels his heart thump rather painfully in his chest.

"No," you respond sweetly. "If all I was looking for was a quick exit, I would've gone for climbing out the window. I'm out here for you, I'm afraid."

"How awful of me, then," he jokes weakly, and you look at him like it's the funniest thing you've heard all day. Sirius clenches his fists where he leans on the railing, letting the rings that adorn his fingers pinch his skin and press against his palms as he looks out into the night. You're standing close enough that he can feel your arm brushing against his - close enough that he feels something that seems strangely like love rolling off of you in waves.

"What are you doing out here?" He says it again, like a whisper, like a plea that he knows will be unheard. You look at him steadily as he shakes and you smile and he kind of wishes you really had climbed out the window instead of coming after him. Just for a moment. Just for a second, before the guilt sets in and he -

"Remus, uh, he said that you…"

"Had a breakdown?"

"No," you respond easily. "He didn't quite put it like that."

"But you get the idea," Sirius huffs. You lean closer to knock your shoulder against his.

"I do, baby," you offer gently. "I do."

Somewhere inside, James's boisterous laugh can be heard as Remus swears and shouts something about how cheating ruins the game. Sirius's fists clench tight enough that his knuckles whiten and you tap a nail against the wooden railing in thought. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask lightly. Then you watch the muscles in his jaw flex as he clenches his teeth.

"Is there anything to talk about?"

"Mhm," you nod. "Usually a bit more than you think." He sighs at that, a defeated sort of thing as he slumps down just a bit, sinking into the warmth of his jacket as a wicked winter wind blows through. 

"I just really thought, for a little bit - I guess I really believed I'd be someone someday." He whispers it like a prayer, like a confession before some sort of altar. You answer like he's the one who should be prayed to.

"You are someone."

"No - but… you know what I mean, yea?"

"I do," you concede, sighing a bit. "I - I really do." The words come out in a sort of rush as you say them, tumbling out of you and into the frozen air as Sirius shoots you a peculiar look.

"I don't know how you do it, love," he admits in that slow, low timbre of his. You perk up a bit and glance over to him with your brows raised.

"Do what?"

"What… what I never could." You're still looking at him, he's sure, but he's avoiding your gaze in the wake of his confession, tipping his head back to stare up at the endless stars, instead. 

"Oh, Sirius, I -" You cut yourself off with a laugh and it's a hollow, pitchy sort of thing - off and different and wholly unnatural coming from you. It makes him snap his gaze back down to look at you and when he sees the tremble in your face he wonders, not for the first time, how he manages to fuck it all up so often. 

But then you smile at him like the stars shine down on the two of you because he hung them there. You smile and you look up, yourself, into the endless vastness.

"I'm not, uh… well, I'm not really much of anything these days," you admit quietly, the words halting and slow as they leave you.

"That's bullshit, babe," Sirius responds, the words tugged from him as soon as he hears the tremor in your voice. "You're everything."

"Aw, see how easy it is?" you sigh, leaning back and hanging onto the railing as your voice wavers just a touch. 

"What?" Sirius asks quietly - because he knows, he thinks. He's knows what's going on.

"How easy it is to see yourself in someone else," you clarify. It makes him frown, makes his brows bunch together as he stares down at you. More wind blows through, the beginnings of snowy flurries fluttering through the air and makes you shiver, your sweater doing little to protect you from the incoming storm.

"You should've brought your own jacket out here," Sirius huffs, pointedly derailing the conversation as he shrugs off his own dark leather to drape it over your shoulders.

"I only had time to grab one," you murmur in response as you let him manhandle you into his jacket, the weight of it settling heavily on yout shoulders as you curl your hands into the too-long sleeves.

"What's that thing you always say?" Sirius mumbles as he smooths his hands down your arms, his fingers cold against the fabric. "Something about putting your own oxygen mask on first?"

"Aw," you tease, turning to lean against the railing again and bump your shoulder against him. "But then how would I get you to look after me, huh?"

It's a joke, of course - Sirius knows it's a joke, recognizes the quip in your words. But he can't help himself. He grabs onto your shoulders gently and spins you around to face him once more, his face sombre and lips pressed together as he tilts his head down to look you in the eye. 

"I'll always look after you," he says sternly. "You know that, right? Always, I - you deserve that much, you know? You deserve to have someone find you out in the cold and give you a jacket."

There's a strange quality in your returning smile as you listen to him speak and Sirius, somewhere distant and safe, gets the feeling that you know something that he doesn't.

"I know you do," you say sweetly when he's done his rambling, and the words make a frown tug further on his face as he shakes your shoulders ever so gently.

"Not me," he clarifies sternly. "You - you deserve it. We're talking about you." But then there's that smile from you again, sweet and loving and shining up at him like he's the only warmth you need. It makes him stumble, just a bit, makes him lose his footing as he looks down at you in his jacket, the necklace he gave you last year shining against your neck and the hickey that he'd given you yesterday just barely hidden under your hair.

He lets go of you - he can't help it. He lets go of you and takes a step back to cross his arms over his chest, instead, like he's curling into himself somehow.

"What do you think?" you muse quietly. "Do I look like you?" Sirius thinks, for a queasy sort of moment, that you sort of do. 

"No," he says shortly, the irritation in his voice so surface-level and fake that you grin a bit. "You look like you."

"Well," you say easily as you rock back on your heels a bit and your grin widens. "I'll take that, I suppose."

"You should," he quips back, shivering as the wind blows through and a golden warmth filters onto the two of you as someone turns on another light inside. "What a thing to be, hm?"

"Aw," you tease, but you lean up on your toes and grip onto Sirius's shoulders as you tilt your head to look at him. "You love me, huh?"

"Against my better judgement, yes," Sirius murmurs back, smoothing a hand over your lower back as he leans down to press his lips against yours. It's familiar by now, the feeling of you pressed against him. He knows the shape of you and the feel of your warmth radiating into him. He knows the way that your lips move against his and the way you smile into the kiss. He knows the way that this love feels, he realizes, and it makes him tangle a hand into your hair and tug ever so gently as he nips at your lower lip.

"The others will start to feel left out if we stay out here for too long," you murmur quietly, your lips brushing against Sirius's as he chases after you.

"Just a few more minutes."

"You'll also freeze to death," you point out. That makes him laugh, makes him tilt his head back and look up at the stars and feel how close they are between the two of you. You smooth a hand over his chest as he looks up, placing your palm against his shirt to feel the steady thump of his heart under his skin. And how odd, you think, to feel it beat like that for you. 

"Thanks, sweet thing," Sirius says eventually, his voice quiet as he moves slowly to look down at you once more.

"For what?" you ask simply. The kiss that he presses against your nose is so gentle you almost don't feel it. But you always feel Sirius. You always know where he is.

"For coming out into the cold for me," he says quietly, and if his voice wavers and cracks, you take no notice. "For - for bringing me something warm."

"It's a nice jacket," you respond easily, but your fingers thump against his chest as you echo the beating rhythm of his heart. "It deserves to be worn."

"Yea," Sirius sighs, his shoulders, he finds, lifting a bit with a lightness that's so difficult to find in the dark. "It is a nice jacket."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this decrepit pervert is back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re restless. What’s worse, is you have no energy. You never really do. Living is the most exhausting thing you’ve ever done. 

You lean in the window sill, half hunched as you stare out at the suburban street. It’s a nice neighbourhood. Your mother lives in a condo, on one of the highest floors. You hate it. This place isn’t so bad. It’d be nice if it was just you. 

That last thought makes you sad. You don’t know that you’ll ever be able to be alone. You hate being such a burden. What you hate most, is feeling like you’re on a leash. Sometimes literally as your oxygen tube keeps you bound to the tank. 

All your existence, there’s been something wrong with you. In high school, it got so much worse. You didn’t even realise until your mother pointed it out. Then the appointments doubled, the tests too, and it never stopped. Will it ever? 

You’re trapped in a holding pattern. If living is so difficult, should you even try? That’s a bad thought but you can’t help it. You see your mom, you see Andy, and they don’t need all these medicines or this thing to breathe for them. They have lived full lives, they have jobs and a home. You have nothing. 

You turn away from the window. The tall trees and peaked rooftops are no longer so beautiful. They’re just another reminder of everything you don’t and will never have. 

A knock at the door startles you. You cross the room and inch it open. You peer out, disappointed to find Andy again. How long is your mom going to sleep? 

“Hey, sweetheart, I was thinking you might want to come with me. It's pretty quiet around here,” he says. 

“Come with... where?” You rasp. 

“I was going to go to the pharmacy and get your script filled, like your mom said,” he explains and holds up the doctor’s paper. “Found it in her purse.” 

“Oh, uh...” you hesitate. You don’t know what to do. That he’s even asking makes you feel obligated. “Sure, I... okay.” 

“Take your time, I’ll warm the car up,” he assures you. “Anything I can help with?” 

“No, sir, I’ll grab my bag.” 

You shut the door before he can respond. You pause and feel bad. You hope that didn’t seem intentional. You go and grab your belt bag. You check that everything is in it, then drag your tank back to the door. 

You come out and the hall is empty. You go around to the bathroom and rinse off your face. You don’t have a toothbrush so you use your finger to spread some paste around your teeth and rinse your mouth. You’re overly aware of your day-old outfit. You do what you can for your hair then resign yourself to being the same mess you always are. 

You take the stairs slowly. One at a time as you prevent the wheels of the tank from thumping. Andy’s house is so nice, you don’t want to ruin it. You get to the front door and pull on your jacket. You put on your sneakers and awkwardly angle out the front door. 

The SUV whirs in the driveway. Before you can get to the first step, Andy is there. He helps with the tank and sets it on the flat ground. You quickly take the handle and thank him. 

“You alright?” He asks. You wish he wouldn’t be so worried. Your mother doesn’t ever ask, only if it’s for show. 

“Fine,” you assure him. 

You roll the tank past him and he calls after you as you get to the SUV. “Hey, you don’t gotta sit in the back.” 

“Uh, right,” you say. 

You go around to the passenger door and he opens it for you. Once again, he lifts the tank. Before you can react, he does the same to you. You lurch up into the seat and wriggle until he lets you go. He doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort. 

You sit straight and steady the tank between your knees. He shuts the door and you get the seatbelt clicked in. As he climbs in the other side, you take out your vaseline and smear it under your nose. It’s particularly raw this morning. 

“Shoot, is that from the AC? I can turn it down.” 

“No, it’s... okay,” you stare through the windshield. You want to get this done and over with. Your brows furrow at the thought of your mom waking up to the empty house. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks. 

“Nothing,” you insist. 

“You look worried,” he says. 

“I... my mom. She’s in rough shape.” 

“Hungover,” he clucks, “it’s a good thing you don’t take after her with that.” 

You nod, not sure what to say. He does up his seatbelt and checks the mirrors. He shifts and backs out of the driveway. 

“Feel free to put on some music. I don’t think you want to listen to my oldies,” he chuckles. 

“It’s okay,” you hug yourself with one arm, your other hand on the tank. 

The silence buzzes in your ears. It’s too late now to change your mind. Besides, you’re so indecisive about your music. You wouldn’t exactly brag about your taste either. 

The drive stretches on as you huddle into the door, distracting yourself with the passing light poles, houses, and so on. You don’t know this area. It’s not anywhere near your usual pharmacy. You often wait in the car when you do go with your mom. 

He pulls up along the curb and park. It’s a nice quaint street in the neighbourhood. There’s a park on the corner and an organic store on the opposite side. You peek out at the local pharmacy’s moniker, hand-painted unlike glowing banner of the department store where your mom usually goes. 

“Should be able to get this filled,” he says as he shuts off the engine. 

You just nod and hum. He gets out quickly, easily. You envy that. You can’t do anything easily. He comes around as you push the door open. He once more brings down your tank but you’re certain to climb out on your own. You nearly stagger as you do. 

You wheel out of the way as he closes the door. You look around at the other pedestrians. A woman with a stroller, a family just across the way babbling in glee. You turn away before the scene can make you morose. 

Andy leads you to the pharmacy door and pulls it open with a chime. He lets you in first. There’s only a few aisles inside, the pharmacist’s counter is at the back, another till near the front where they sell chocolates and candy. 

You linger until Andy points you down the center row. You go ahead of him and stop before the long counter. He unfolds the prescription as he greats the man behind it boldly. Good mornings and niceties you struggle to get right. 

“Hm, we have these on hand but it’ll be a wait. Been a busy morning,” the pharmacist explains. 

“That’s fine, we can keep ourselves busy.” Andy says. You squirm. You can? Waiting that long will only add to the tension that makes your chest even tighter. 

You back up as he turns around. He looks around for a moment, as if he thinks you wondered off, then smiles at you. “There’s a cafe across the street, how about it?” 

“I don’t... drink coffee,” you say. 

“I know, sweetheart, I remember,” he gently strokes your shoulder, “they have tea, too. Or smoothies. You must be hungry too.” 

“I... if you want to, I guess...” you shrug. 

“You know, I’m not your mom. I won’t say no,” he intones. “You don’t have to be so nervous.” 

“I know, I... I’m sorry.” 

“And you don’t need to be sorry,” he counters. 

You almost apologise again, only to fill your cheeks with air and nod. You feel like you should be though. Like everything you do is a disappointment. 

You go back down the middle aisle. Andy reaches past you to hold the door again. You come out and narrowly avoid a collision. You wait for the family of three to pass by before Andy nudges you to the curb. He takes your free hand as he tugs you with him, jaywalking through the lazy traffic. 

The effort is enough to make your head spin. You get your wheels over the other curb and sway. Andy doesn’t let go. He takes you past the patio area of the cafe and swings back the door before he releases you, pointing you within. 

The smell of coffee, the grind of a machine, and the chatter of diners greets you. You wait behind the two teenage girls at the counter as Andy comes up next to you. He stands close but you assume it’s because it’s such a tight space. 

“Do you want to find somewhere to sit?” He wonders. 

“No, I’m okay,” you say. 

“Sure, uh, so what do you want?” 

You look up at the hand-written menu. You might get a tea after all. 

“The brioche egg sandwich is one of my favourites,” he says. 

“You come here... a lot?” You wonder. 

“Sure. I like to run in the mornings. I’ll grab a coffee on my cool down. And weekends I’ll have breakfast. Your mom’s usually still asleep if she’s around,” he tuts. 

“Right, uh... that sounds fine. Brioche.” 

The girls go to the further end of the counter and Andy waves you forward. The barista greets him by name. She’s very pretty. She has amber coloured braids with a zigzag pattern and cute freckles over her cheeks. You want to ask how she did her hair like that but you don’t want to be rude. 

“Andy, how are you?” She chirps in recognition. 

“Good, we were just walking through the neighbourhood,” he says,  You adjust the tube under your nose self-consciously. The barista is gorgeous and reminds you of everything you’re not. 

“Oh, is this your fiancee?” She asks. “She’s finally come around.” 

Andy chuckles and you blanch. He doesn’t offer a protest and neither do you. You wait for him to correct her. He doesn’t. 

“Sweetheart, what did you want to drink?” He looks at you and you nearly choke. 

“Can I have the pomegranate tea, please?” Even your voice sounds ugly. 

“Sure, what size, hon?” 

“Small,” you croak out. 

“Small pomegrante, and your usual?” She asks Andy. 

“Yep, and two of the brioche breakfast sandwiches. Oh, and something sweet for dessert. Those cherry tarts look delicious,” he points to the display.” 

“Got it, anything else?” She taps the till screen. 

“That’s it,” he slips out his card and waits. He selects a tip amount before he taps, the machine beeping in acceptance. You spy the total right before it disappears. Oh, that’s expensive. 

“I’ll bring it to you, Andy,” she smiles brightly, “you two enjoy.” 

Andy takes your hand again before you can react. He brings you to the table and you sit across from him, right by the window. You feel like you’re on display. You hate it. 

You push the tube into your nose as you think then trail your hand down the length. You stare off into the distance. You don’t know, it feels weird. It feels like he’s doing too much. Like maybe he feels bad for you. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” He interrupts your trance. 

You flinch and look at him, then avert your gaze to the table. 

“You didn’t...” you begin then shake your head. 

“What?” He prompts. 

“Nothing.” 

“Go on, sweetie, you don’t have to be shy with me. You can say whatever you need,” he leans forward as he crosses his arms over the table, “you know, your mom told me you’ve never really had a father figure. I’m here to help, to support you.” 

You nod and pick at your dry lip then stop yourself, hiding your hands under the table. “You-- that woman... she thought I—that we—you didn’t say no.” 

“Oh, I didn’t want to embarrass her,” he laughs. “It’s funny, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah...” you nod at your lap. “It is really... funny. No one would really want to marry me.” 

You cover your mouth as the thought slips out. You shake your head. Why did you say it? 

“Huh? Sweetheart?” He leans in even closer, “you don’t think that’s true, do you?” 

You shrug and peel your hand away, chewing on your sleeve as you slump low in your seat. 

“You’re a nice girl. Pretty too.” 

“I’m not,” you murmur into your cuff. “You don’t have to lie.” 

“Well who says you’re not?” He urges. You shake your head again. 

“Your mother?” He suggests. You shake your head harder. She would be livid if you told him that she did. He clicks his tongue, “well, however it is, don’t listen to them.” He reaches across to you, “hey, sweetheart, look at me.” You obey, trembling in humiliation, “you are very pretty.” 

[illuminatedferret]

"At this point, I might as well just tell it to you straight. I've got a whole bunch of opinions about you." "Uh... well... I knew that already. For ages now," Xie Lian said. "Oh really?" Mu Qing said coldly. "Then do you know that I often thought you relied on your status too much- that even though you were His Highness the Crown Prince, even though you had good fortune, your skills weren't that much better than mine?" "..." "I also thought that you probably only liked doing all those good deeds for show, because you wanted all the praise and flattery. And that you only helped me because of that- I was the perfect subject for you to demonstrate your sympathy and kindness on. To be honest, some of my opinions haven't changed, even now." (Vol. 8, pg. 54-55)

This does not sound like a guy who has/had a good opinion of Xie Lian.

This sounds like a guy who thinks Xie Lian is an arrogant nepo baby who does good deeds for the optics. And while he mentions Xie Lian's circumstances, it's all couched in what Xie Lian is doing with them. If there is a place in the novel where I'm meant to take away that Mu Qing's issues with Xie Lian were actually with his circumstances, please point it out to me. Because from where I stand, it looks like Mu Qing spends most of the novel with a pretty poor opinion of Xie Lian. He definitely feels resentment over the (original) differences in their stations, but that resentment very clearly rolls over into his resentment regarding Xie Lian and what he sees Xie Lian doing with his station.

Not only that, we see him react positively more than once to Xie Lian suffering/doing bad things. He's a little "cheered" to learn Xie Lian's living in a shack (1.219). He's in an "excellent mood" when Xie Lian is put under house arrest, and he's "uncontrollably excited" to think Xie Lian is responsible for the Gilded Banquet Massacre (2.183). He's smug and passive-aggressive when they're talking about Xie Lian's past as General Hua (1.323) He also accuses Xie Lian of only offering to help 'his general' re: the fetus spirit in hopes of sabotaging his case (5.55). All this is to say, we see throughout canon that this guy does not think highly of Xie Lian. They parted ways on bad terms, and Mu Qing spent 800 years convinced Xie Lian hated him. It took him seeing Xie Lian again after 800 years and being hit in the face again and again with how good he is to finally start admitting both his negative opinions and that despite them, he still admires Xie Lian "more often than not." (8.55)

You also mention how Xie Lian and Mu Qing might have been different if they'd swapped places. But they do swap places!. Xie Lian spends 800 years scavenging for scraps with the worst luck possible. Mu Qing spends 800 years in the heavens, one of Thee most powerful men in the Three Realms. One stays kind and generous, the other stays skeptical and paranoid. Childhoods can be formative, yes, but there comes a limit on when we can attribute everything to a difficult childhood rather than a person's character, and the feasibility gets really stretched when we're talking about characters who have been alive for over 800+ years. TGCF definitely focuses more on nature rather than nurture, for good reason. It's a central theme of the novel.

TGCF makes it clear: to change or to stay the same are both choices. Staying the same is not a default action- often, (especially under pressure) it is an active choice someone makes. Mu Qing had 800 years to unpack his issues and grow as a person. He didn't. I find it both lazy and boring to throw everything about Mu Qing under the label of 'virtually sealed' because he had a difficult childhood, especially when we see none of said childhood. On top of that, you're assuming Mu Qing likely would have been a better person had he been in Xie Lian's position, but the opposite is just as possible- who's to say being a prince wouldn't have made him worse? Look at Qi Rong. Xie Lian's parents are permissive as hell. That Xie Lian turned out how he did speaks to his character, not the people around him. And in canon Mu Qing may dislike being compared to the Crown Prince he once served, but I imagine that if their positions were swapped, he would have hated even more being outshone by a mere servant.

Also, forgive me if this is unwelcome, but I feel like your argument would be much stronger if you relied on textual evidence from the book from phases of Mu Qing's life that we actually see- for example, I do believe that watching Xie Lian crash and burn in Book 2/4 definitely discouraged him from ever sticking his neck out for someone else. It would discourage me! But talking about Mu Qing's childhood as crucial for understanding him when we get maybe a few sentences about it isn't very compelling. Mu Qing is an interesting character with a lot of depth and complexity, but reducing him down to 'he couldn't help it, and it was always about their stations anyway' does him a disservice.

There's something to be said about how Mu Qing and Jun Wu both held these ideas about Xie Lian and who he really is as a person- specifically, that his kind and forgiving nature is a lie, and deep down he's actually just like them. These are ideas Mu Qing and Jun Wu spent centuries believing, refusing to be convinced otherwise until they had no other choice.

But that's where their similarities end. Because while Mu Qing resents Xie Lian for his good character, he also honestly admires him for it. Jun Wu, on the other hand, 'loves' Xie Lian, but grows angrier each time he's reminded of how different they really are. And so I think it's very fitting that when Mu Qing finally swallows his pride and admits his preconceptions and faults to Xie Lian, it's on the Heavens-Crossing Bridge, the literal wreckage of Jun Wu's hopes and dreams.

[official-sonic-team]

my suggestion for a oneshot would be sonic and knuckles having a heart to heart about what sonic's appearance on the ruin walls meant for knuckles growing up alone

“Ah ha! Found you!”

Knuckles jerks back into a fighting stance, spines prickled, fists raised. Intruders rarely managed to get past the defense system, so this one must be a large threat to have evaded every single one, and manage to sneak up on him!

“Woah-ho! Did I manage to sneak up on the great guardian of Angel Island and it’s precious Master Emerald?”

Knuckles relaxes. It’s just this jerk again. “Sonic, I told you to warn me before you showed up. One of these days you’re going to get skewed on one of my traps and I’m going to laugh at you.”

“You’re just mad that I’m too fast for any of those traps to catch me!”

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“Oh, you always seem to be down here.”

Here was the hidden palace. The dilapidated ruin had been long rumored to have been the home of the chief of the Knuckles clan for generations before their ruin. It was one of the better preserved pieces of architecture on Angel Island, and Knuckles had spent many lonely nights beneath the roof of this place, when rain or snow or other temperamental weather shooed him from his usual shrine.

“What does that mean?” Knuckles mutters, feeling oddly defensive. It was sometimes odd to be reminded that his friends noticed his habits, his behaviors. Even after all this time, it was strange to be perceived, to know that people thought of him even when he wasn’t around. 

“Just noticed that you tend to hole away here whenever you’re not at the main shrine.” Sonic shrugs. “I don’t get the appeal, personally. Would much rather be outside, napping under the sun.”

“I don’t nap. I’m a vigilant guardian of the most sacred and powerful artifact man has ever learned the existence of.”

“Uh huh,” Sonic teases. “Right. And I’m the king of the Kingdom of Acorn.”

“Oh, shut it!”

Knuckles turns away from him, back to facing the mural he had been studying. Perhaps that had been a bad move, for it reminded him of his earlier thoughts. The mural of a blue creature surrounded by gold attacking a mustached creature who had captured the Master Emerald. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, I wanted to make sure I knew how to fly a plane. Borrowed the Tornado, did a few barrel rolls, and realized I was nearby.”

Knuckles snorts. “Is it borrowing if the plane was originally yours?”

“Oh, you and I both know it belongs to Tails. Even if I wanted it back, he’s not going to be letting go of it anytime soon.” Sonic hums, placing his hands behind his head as he stands directly next to Knuckles. “What do you do down here, anyway? Feels like you’re always here.”

Knuckles frowns. “I… like to reread the ancient scripture that accompanies these murals. I’ve read them a thousand times already, but… I suppose it just helps me feel connected to my ancestors.”

Sonic hums. “So the Knuckles Clan made this?”

Knuckles crosses his arms. “Yes. It’s a similar style to many of their other carvings.”

“Do you think there’s anything on this island that once belonged to the Ancients?”

That was certainly a thought Knuckles had chewed on for a long while. When he had been a child on this island, and had begun to properly hone his skills in artifacts and manuscripts, he had noticed parts of Angel Island’s ruins often appeared… mismatched. He simply assumed there had been a civilization before the echidnas that lived on this island, who may have even inspired the echidnas in their own culture and religion. The statues in Hydrocity, for instance, had always bothered him as being stylistically different than much of the other stylized statues the Knuckles Clan would create, and he wondered on occasion if they influenced the mural they were currently staring at.

“There’s a lot of ancient technology on this island. I’ve always wondered how the Knuckles Clan could have possibly created it if the god of Chaos had detested them so much. And they had sworn to protect the Master Emerald so no one could make the same mistakes as them… it always felt counterintuitive for them to be using it’s power for their own gain, even if its a harmless one.”

Sonic whistles. “Interesting.”

It clearly wasn’t. Knuckles had long ago tried to explain the intricacies of archeology and treasure hunting to Sonic, but he was firmly uninterested in the subject. No thrashing and bashing? No dice. If Knuckles talked for too long, Sonic would dip out from the conversation and disappear.

Knuckles turns his attention to the mural. He was taking a big leap with this one, but… Part of him was itching to scratch Sonic’s brain about this. “This was my favorite mural, growing up.”

“Oh?”

“Much of the inscription is lost to time and erosion. But what I can make out details a great hero coming to save the world.” Knuckles takes a deep breath. “It had meant a lot to me as a child alone on this island, to think that someone might one day come to save…” This felt to vulnerable to admit, to finish the lingering me he was going to add. “... the Master Emerald, and I would no longer be alone.”

Knuckles chances a glance at Sonic. His expression remains neutral, his eyes centered on the blue figure in the mural. His foot wasn’t tapping, however, which meant he hadn’t been testing Sonic’s patience with something so mushy. There’s a chance he might get a dialogue opened between them.

Ever since Knuckles was a child and had figured out to read, this mural had been one he spent as much time as he could near. Many of the other murals and stories were of tragedy, for the Echidnas had been cast out from the rest of society by their own greed, and were determined to never let their mistake befall them again. And, too, their species began to dwindle, and a hopelessness someday settled deep in their bones, and within their stories.

Knuckles couldn’t blame them for their sorrow. What befell the Knuckles Clan was a tragedy that would lead to their own extinction over one mistake. It was sometimes a bit much for Knuckles to bear, to know that he was the last of his kind, all because of Pachacamac’s lust for power. 

And that’s what made this mural so enchanting to a young child. To see a hero valiantly fighting against an invader, protecting his home, saving his people, saving himself. He dreamed, many times as a child, that this hero would come and rescue him. That the duty of protecting the Master Emerald would no longer be his, that the sins of his forefathers would be paid, and Knuckles's bondage would be broken. Knuckles would be free to live life how he wanted, for there was someone who would be able to keep his home safe. 

It wasn’t quite the case, in the end.

Someone blue and bright and heroic showed up on his island one day when he was twelve to defeat an invader stealing his emerald. An annoying, aggravating, irritating eleven year old boy who toted around a four year old sidekick. Some kid younger than him who made immature and crude jokes and was thoroughly uninterested in the island and it’s history and the emerald beyond keeping it free from Robotnik’s hands. 

Oh, twelve year old Knuckles’s blood boiled at the very thought of that blue prick who appeared on his island one day and turned his entire life upside down.

“My ancestors say it’s supposed to be a prophecy,” Knuckles carefully added. 

That receives a derisive snort from Sonic.

“Do you really believe in that?” Sonic asks. 

“It came true,” Knuckles murmurs. 

And it did, in ways Knuckles couldn’t quite comprehend at twelve years old, but knew well at sixteen. For Sonic, in his irritating, antagonizing, stupid way… still did manage to save Knuckles’s life.

He defeated Dr. Robotnik that day, casting himself in a cocoon of gold and Chaos, destroying Robotnik’s machines and returning the Master Emerald back to Angel Island. And beyond that, it was Sonic who became Knuckles’s true first friend, who taught him how there was more to life than just guarding the Master Emerald, that he could balance his duty and his desires and still live a fulfilling life. 

Perhaps no hero had swept in and took away his duty. But Knuckles was still grateful nonetheless for what Sonic had taught him, even if he’s never truly managed to tell him. 

“Do we even know it was predicting that fight on Angel Island four years ago?” Sonic clicks his tongue. “Why would they bother predicting that fight, anyway? It’s not even the most interesting thing we’ve seen. I mean, why not predict Perfect Chaos re-emerging? Or the End? Or Eggman breaking apart the entire Earth for Dark Gaia? It’s not important, in the grand scheme of things.”

“Of course it’s important!” Knuckles snaps. 

Sonic blinks. Knuckles grinds his teeth. 

He shouldn’t be surprised. Sonic had been going on countless adventures even before the Angel Island adventure. Let alone everything he had seen afterwards. Why would the most important moment of Knuckles’s life mean anything to him, in the end? What importance could it possibly have when it was just a routine battle to stop Eggman? When he had fought greater and mightier powers than just Eggman’s insatiable greed and some plucky twelve year old guardian of an empty home and a powerful emerald?

Sonic looks back at the mural, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t believe in destiny, fate, or whatever. I’ve never liked the idea that someone else was pulling my strings. Some people find it a comforting thought, to know that everything happens for a reason. I like to think I make my own choices.”

A silence passes between them.

“I made my choice that day, to chase after Robotnik and show up on this island. I think that us choosing to meet is much nicer than thinking we were fated to.”

Knuckles turns to face Sonic, who’s still peering at that mural.

“I chose to come here, to fight you, to eventually help you. To face down Eggman and bring the Master Emerald back. And I’ve chosen every subsequent meeting as well. So believe, perhaps, that that day was fated, foretold, or whatever. But every moment after hasn’t been. And I think that’s much more interesting.”

Knuckles is quiet. The day they met had been the most infuriating day of his life. But it wasn’t entirely the day that he was saved. It was every subsequent day after, when the two of them crossed paths, when Sonic and his rivalry turned into mutual respect, into friendship. It was a cataclysm, an explosion, and in the rubble the two began to build something Knuckles can not name but knows it to be worth more than gold.

Knuckles turns away rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll never understand you, Sonic.”

“Ha! Now, are we done with this boring conversation?” Sonic taps his foot. Knuckles’s time has run out. “What do you think about me taking you on a flight?”

“Ugh, no way! I’ve seen you fly a plane before, I know you do too many barrel rolls.”

Sonic's eyes sparkle with mischief. “Oh? And you can’t handle a little bit of turbulence? To think you call yourself a great guardian!”

“Bah! I can handle anything you throw at me.”

“Challenge accepted!” Sonic grabs his hand and Knuckles braces himself for a super sonic sprint. “I think our group is ready to board! Let’s go!”

To think this was the same person his people had once written a prophecy for. 

[kanyerealdaughter]

#EX BOYFRIEND

sexual content , masturbation , sub (fem,reader) , cussing , intercourse , dom(suguru geto) , creampie , size kink , degrading , cum eating a bit.? .

—————————————————————————

right now you're currently driving to your ex boyfriend suguru house. you have no clue how to handle it to be completely honest, you never been too good with emotions but you both left on good terms and everything but you just can't stop the need you feel him one last time.

you pulled into his driveway preparing yourself to get all your stuff and leave as quickly as possible. you walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. after a few minutes he appears in the doorway, looking sexier than ever. you were snapped out of the battle with your subconscious by his voices speaking out in a concerned tone.

" uh- you good..?"

“ mhm, uh y-yeah, fine i just came to get my stuff remember.” you replied weakly.

" well you're gonna come in?" he asked in his raspy voice, stepping out of the way, letting you into his house.

you look over at the kitchen and remember all the times he fucked your from behind. so deep in you, so... rough. and the living room where he'd prop your legs up on the coffee table and eat you out. suckin on your clit...

your breathing picked up and you don't know what to do. your underwear is getting wetter by the second and you can't do anything about it... or can you? once the idea pops into your head, there's no turning back. you have to do it. you need to do it.

" um suguru can i use your bathroom?" you ask, pretending that you have to use the bathroom badly.

" oh uh- sure. you remember where it's at right?" you nodded and headed off to the bathroom.

once you're outta sight, you rush in, shutting and locking the door behind you. you don't waste any time taking your jeans and underwear off. mmm you're so wet... you don't even bother taking your shirt and bra off, you wanna make this quick.

you slowly insert your middle finger and it slides in with ease from all the wetness. you start to pump and move your hand. in and out. in and out. in... out. over and over. fuck it. you need this. you pick up speed, lifting your left leg up onto the sink for better access.

" mmm." you moan softly before putting your free fingers into your mouth to shut yourself up.

you can't be loud but it feels so good. you bite your knuckle harder in an attempt to hush yourself but it's useless. you move your hand quicker. the lightning fast speed of your fingers is amazing. you started to think of suguru. his big dick thrusting into you with quick speed. both of your skin hitting together because of his fast, hard pace.

" fuck." you muffled into your knuckles. his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. both of your moans and grunts are drowning out the others. you're whimpering. you want to scream but you can't. you want him to fuck you so bad. you imagine him talking dirty to you even more.

“ fuck, you like that i know you like it..”

" scream for me ma.." that was all it took to drive you over the edge.

" fuck yes..!"

you came all over your hand, hard. as much as you wish it were him you were cumming for, you guess this will have to do. you clean yourself off realizing you've probably been in here for too long. you washed all your wetness and juices away from your hands, dried them and then went to leave.

as you opened the door, you found a very satisfied ex boyfriend suguru getting off right in front of the door. either he didn't care if you saw or he hadn't heard you come out.

whatever the case may be, you didn't care. you suddenly felt hot again. you once more felt the urge to have him inside of you again. watching him get off because of your moans from the other side of the door really turned you on. you need to feel him in you, at least one more time.

as you watched him, you could feel your juices pooling up as they did before. bitting your lip, you reach out and touch his dick. he looks up at you and you could see his once big dark purple eyes. eyes darken.

he stops and in a blink of an eye, you're pinned up against the bathroom door. with a strong large hand over your neck, his lips dive towards yours, connecting in a passionate yet lustful kiss. it was harsh and forceful, making your knees go weak. if he wasn't holding you up you would have fallen.

your hand instinctively wrapped around his hard cock, pumping in an attempt to please him. a quiet moan could be heard escaping his lips, that were molded together with yours, sending a long satistying shiver down your spine. i need him in you now.

" i need you." you said in between kisses.

" i'm glad you said that ma i need you too my dick hard." he said as a smile crept up on his face.

and with that he pulled his pants up and picked you up, carrying you to his room. when we reached your destination, he threw you on his bed and began stripping.

starting with his shirt, then his pants, then his boxers. you both kept eye contact as you began to get undressed with him taking off your shirt along with your push up bra.

when you both were done, he crawled up between your legs pushing you up on the bed. he once again connected your lips as he moved one of his hands to your breast. he squeezed and rolled your hard nipple earning soft moans from you.

you started to whine, letting him know that you can't wait any longer. a smirk draws across his face while he moves his hand down to your heat, collecting some of your juices on his finger, he stops kissing you and puts it in his mouth. he moaned lightly at the taste of you causing your hips to buck up at the sight.

he looked down and grabbed his dick and started rubbing it against your slit. pushing it a little to your clit, your legs shook. you're so wet that he accidentally slid in hard, slamming into you, causing him to groan at the pleasure.

" you're still so tight fuck ma." he said in a low whisper. you moaned in response his pace started off slow but then soon quickened as his heavy breaths you felt in the crook of your neck. his thrusting grew harder. the bed creaked and rocked with his and yours movements.

" u-uh yess!." you moaned. it feels so good his grunts fill the room along with your moans.

" fuck ma you been givin my pussy..?" he whispered groaning at the end of his sentence.

you shake your no.

" words mama." he groaned.

" no o-ohh fuck." you gained the confidence too say no. he smack ass leaving a handprint thrusting into you kissing your cervix fasting into you even more making you moan.

" tell me, who does this pussy belong to?" he said while lifting your legs up by his shoulders, fucking you deeper.

*yesss kinggg Imfaooo ignore this.*

" y-you." you barely got out in between your panting and loud moans.

" louder." he demanded.

"y-you suguru you suguru FUCKK.! u-uhh so deep..!" you ended up screaming, causing him to smirk.

" mhm." was all he said.

" fuck. f-faster." you said wanting more. his pace quickened from what it was before as all you could hear was his and yours skin slapping together.

" n-nugh!" you screamed. he was so deep and big he filled you up kissing your cervix once again

" s-shit.!" your back arched as your felt your orgasm forming.

" i-im gonna c-cum!" he stopped causing you to whimper.

" no.. fuck why suguru..?" you whined. he didn't answer but instead flipped you over to where your ass was up in the air and your back was arched. face in the comforter.

suddenly there was a sting on your ass cheek. smack. the skin on skin contact of his hand colliding with your plump ass made you moan.

" you like that." he said with a smile forming on his face.

smack another hard slap echoing throughout the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. you moaned again, this time a little louder. without warning he slammed his dick back into your soaking wet pussy making you scream at the sudden pressure.

his thrusting was quick and hard just like before. your pussy throbbed. your ass slapped against his front, reddening your cheeks smack.

" ooh fuck!"

it feels too good smack. he continued his thrusting that soon became irregular and uneven, getting even more sloppy. he was close and so was you.

" cum for me ma. cum all over my dick mamas." you couldn't hold on anymore. your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave, but he didn't stop.

" ahh! f-fuck! fuck suguruuu!" his dick twitched inside you.

" mmm." he hummed.

" scream my name again." he said, his breath being just as scattered as his thrusts.

" suguru!" you screamed moaning right after.

" f-fuck ma..!" he stopped deep in you, filling you up with his hot spurts of cum. you shook and screamed into the comforter. you both stayed in that position catching your breaths for a few minutes and then he pulled out.

he cleaned up and then you both laid in his bed talking for about an hour until you finally decided to get dressed and head home. he stopped you right outside his front door by grabbing your waist and pulling you into a kiss slapping your sensitive ass making you yelled out a yelp. he broke it off and tilted your head up to look at him looking him in his dark purple eyes.

" come back anytime you'd like and we can do this again ma." he winked at you but being all serious and then disappeared back into his house.

the drive home was silent. you didn't listen to any music, you just sat there thinking...

𖣂 KANYEREALDAUGHTER SPEAKS - *reposted* sorry for any errors.!

words - 1.8k

» , ᴀ ᴋᴀɴʏᴇʀᴇᴀʟᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

copyright ©️. ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ . «

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 001 ; only in the movies.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (1,221)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (runa is very talkative, very minimal profanity, first mention of street racing, shy! reader, karasuno! reader, runa dressing reader in … provocative clothing so they look like they fit in, anxious! reader, runa + suna are cousins again — who’s surprised?? [hint: no one !!], social anxiety)

“Hi, I’m Runa! It’s really nice to meet you. I thought you weren’t going to show up at first, but now you’re here! You seem like a nice girl so far— my last roommate was a total bitch. Sorry, I tend to talk a lot about myself. Where are you from?”

You blink at the brunette a couple times. You’ve barely even crossed the threshold of the dorm, and she’s already bombarded you with seemingly hundreds of questions. Your mind catches up with you and you shake your head to clear the fog away. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” you say quietly, giving her a shy smile. “Um, my name is Y/n and I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What, uh, what about you?”

“No way!” She exclaims, eyes lighting up. “I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What school did you go to? Shiratorizawa? That school is really good at sports. Or, Karasuno, maybe? They’re also pretty good. I went to Johzenji— they’re okay at sports, but I never really paid attention to anything but volleyball. I was the manager for the boys’ club.”

“Um, yeah, I went to Karasuno. I wasn’t interested in any sports though, my focus was more on the arts. Choir, photography— stuff like that.”

She nods and hums. “Totally understandable. I mean, who wants to sit in a crowded gym full of sweaty people?” She shudders in mock disgust and you snicker quietly. “I sure didn’t. That’s why I was down on the court making sure nobody died from dehydration or anything.”

You laugh, but don’t say anything more. Her face lights up once more, like she’s just realized something, and she claps her hands together. “Oh my god! I didn’t even let you in the dorm yet. Please, come in, set your stuff down.” She steps out of the way and extends her arm, giggling.

You walk past her, glancing around the room. It’s not huge, by any means, but it’s still pretty nice. There’s two beds, two desks, and a loveseat in the corner that was probably a pain to get in the dorm.

You set your things down on your bare bed— your bag, a succulent plant your mother gave you right before you left, and a takeout bag that only has fries left in it. You were planning on giving them to Runa as a housewarming gift, but they’re probably cold now, so you decide not you.

“Okay, so,” Runa starts, making you turn to look at her. “A couple things to know; I talk a lot, which you probably already picked up on.” She laughs. It’s a nice sound. “I’ll keep my side of the room clean if you do. You seem like a clean person, though, so I doubt that will be a problem. I won’t bring anybody in here without talking to you first and I hope you’ll do the same.” She pauses and purses her lips as if in thought. “I think that’s it. If you have any, like, rules or anything let me know!”

You nod slowly, taking in her words. “Sounds great,” you say, smiling. “I don’t really know anyone here yet, so you don’t have to worry about me bringing people here. And I am a pretty clean person, so that’s not a problem either. Um, I probably won’t talk too much until I get to know you better.” You swallow. “Sorry if that’s mean.”

“No, no. I totally get that. I used to be that way, too, but then I was like, ’I don't really care anymore,’ so.” She shrugs. She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by a knock at the door. Both of your heads turn just as a piece of what looks like paper slips under the door.

You glance at each other, sharing a confused look, but then she walks over and picks it up. You watch her eyes go from narrowed, to familiarity. “Um, what is it?” You ask.

She flips it over to see if there’s anything on the back, then looks up at you and hesitates. “Uh.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s an invitation to a race tonight.”

“A race?” You repeat in a mumble, eyes scanning over the words quickly. ‘T-20. be there at 10 or don’t come at all pussies.’ Your eyes widen a bit and you have to read it again to make sure you’re not hallucinating.

“A street race,” she explains. “They’re, um, like, super rare to get an invitation to. My cousin is racing tonight, so that’s probably why I got one.” You look up to see her brows furrowed. She clocks your gaze and smiles politely. “Do you wanna go with me? It’s not very fun being the only girl there who’s not interested in going home with one of the racers.”

A street race? Like, a real life street race? Those are real? You thought they only existed in movies. Aren’t they illegal?

Hundreds of thoughts flood through your brain and you can feel the palms of your hands start to sweat. You swallow hard. “A street race.” A statement, not a question. “Aren’t those, um…”

“Illegal?” She laughs, but nods. “That’s why they’re invitation-only. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I understand. They’re not everyone's thing.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes falling back to the piece of paper in your hands. You applied to this college purely because you heard Tokyo was not boring. What kind of college girl would you be if you declined this invitation. With a deep breath, you nod. “No, I’ll go. Ten o’clock.” You glance at the clock. “Four hours to find an outfit that will make it look like I belong at an illegal street race. No problem.”

She laughs again, smiling so wide her eyes crinkle. “You’re funny, Y/n,” she says. “I think we’re going to be good friends.”

You smile back at her and, once again, she claps her hands together. “I’ll help you find an outfit, don’t worry.” She walks to her closet, then looks back at you. “How comfortable are you with fishnets?”

“Um.”

The two of you leave the dorms at approximately 9:30, riding in Runa’s shitty Toyota Corolla. You have to suppress a laugh when you see it because when she had told you her cousin was racing tonight, you’d expected her to have a nice car like you assume her cousin does.

You were horribly wrong.

When you pull up to the underpass, it’s packed. Actually, maybe packed is an understatement because there are probably over 500 hundred people present. Almost instantly, you start to sweat. Even in the short-shorts and deliberately ripped up t-shirt that Runa dressed you in. Saying you’re out of your element is also probably an understatement.

You step out of the car and a mixture of gasoline and exhaust fumes hits your nose. You try your best not to scrunch your face up, but it happens anyway.

“You get used to the smell!” Runa shouts over the loud music and constant revving of engines. Somewhere to the left of you, someone screams at the top of their lungs. You glance at Runa and she snickers, walking closer to you. “And the noise.”

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

[aurorathedragon45]

oh, wonderful!! an ask game i love these :D

1. when did you find out you are a dragon?

i found out on april 27th of this year, and my identity has only grown in strength since then <33

2. what kind of dragon are you?

a humble forest dragon, about 2-3 times the size of a horse.

3. when did you join the dragonkin/alterhuman community?

shortly after my awakening, i kinda just went everywhere searching for help to grow closer to my identity.

4. what are some unique features of your dragon self? can be related to your body, your powers or your behavior.

i have kinda leaf shaped wings. not exactly leafwing wings but uh ye also im quite solitary (humans would hunt me down most likely)

5. what do you think of the representation of dragons on earth?

i love how many people (including me, the dragon herself) have such a fascination with dragons. however, the depictions of them in folklore (symbols of evil, greed, destruction) make me sad.

6. do you have memories of being a dragon in a past life or concurrent life?

nope. i honestly dont know the origin of my draconity-

7. what do your shifts look like, if you have any?

i mostly let all that stuff out at night and suppress it during the day but i like to curl up on top of my plushies and the dragon egg i have

8. what does your species' diet?

omnivorous, although i would prefer carrion or fish over hunting mammals myself simply because i would feel so bad killing it (though i dont feel that way about fish for some reason)

9. do you have a breath weapon? if yes, which one?

probably just fire.

10. do you know your dragon body's size?

2-3 times bigger than a horse i have a reference

11. do you hoard?

yea. crystals, plushies, books, you name it

12. how does your draconity influence you irl?

im not sure how to answer that TwT

13. do you feel species dysphoria sometimes?

usually not super strongly but yes.

14. what did/would your habitat look like?

a forest. probably coniferous.

15. are you territorial? can be a place(s) or other beings.

over places, kinda yeah. over possessions, definitely

16. what do you think about the dragonkin/alterhuman community?

i think its a wonderful community with the exception of yk. the ones that people are complaining about so much.

17. do you use a special vocabulary related to your draconity?

i refer to my hands as claws and my face/nose as my snout :>

18. does your species have a special language or alphabet?

nope

19. do you have a pack/clan or are you on your own?

solitary!

20. where do you spend the most time? outside in nature or in your cave (at home)?

in my cave, though i want to spend more time outdoors.

21. what is your favorite dragon media? is it a book series, a show, a video game or something else?

how to train your dragon its so amazing but i also love wings of fire (basic answers ikkkk)

22. have you ever met a dragon like you or similar to you?

yeah! @/akalikestodraw :D

23. do you consider your identity spiritual, psychological or something else? do you use these labels at all?

i think it might be psychological but at the same time i have NO clue tbh

24. do you have any other identities beside being a dragon?

does dragon cladohearted count

25. do you own any gear (tails, horns, jewelry etc.) related to your draconity?

yeah i have some green jewelry but i dont wear it often and i also have a tail and wings

26. how does your species communicate primarily? do you use speech, sounds/vocals and/or body language?

im not sure, but i feel like i would use both growls to convey emotions n stuff (say, snarling at a hunter in my territory) but i wonder if i could communicate telepathically with humans like saphira or if i could speak normally like a human i just dont think about it too much

27. is your dragon self animalistic/feral or sapient?

a mix between the two. i have the intelligence of a human, yes, but the wildness of a fully feral dragon.

28. do you have a visual description of yourself or something that looks similar to your dragon body?

yeah, i even draw myself all the time

29. do you have any body modifications (tattoos, implants etc.)?

nah, and i dont intend to

30. are there any dragons/other dragonkin who inspire you?

all of them! :D

31. free space

rawr :3

dragonkin ask game

hey there! since this year, the year of the dragon, is getting to its end, i decided to come up with some questions for dragonkin and other draconic beings in the alterhuman and plural community. these can be used for personal use in blogs and are free to use for "draconic question of the week" pings on discord, for example. i will explain the reason for those and what i plan to do with them below the questions after the cut. i hope you will have fun with those.

questions under the cut

1. when did you find out you are a dragon?

2. what kind of dragon are you?

3. when did you join the dragonkin/alterhuman community?

4. what are some unique features of your dragon self? can be related to your body, your powers or your behavior.

5. what do you think of the representation of dragons on earth?

6. do you have memories of being a dragon in a past life or concurrent life?

7. what do your shifts look like, if you have any?

8. what does your species' diet?

9. do you have a breath weapon? if yes, which one?

10. do you know your dragon body's size?

11. do you hoard?

12. how does your draconity influence you irl?

13. do you feel species dysphoria sometimes?

14. what did/would your habitat look like?

15. are you territorial? can be a place(s) or other beings.

16. what do you think about the dragonkin/alterhuman community?

17. do you use a special vocabulary related to your draconity?

18. does your species have a special language or alphabet?

19. do you have a pack/clan or are you on your own?

20. where do you spend the most time? outside in nature or in your cave (at home)?

21. what is your favorite dragon media? is it a book series, a show, a video game or something else?

22. have you ever met a dragon like you or similar to you?

23. do you consider your identity spiritual, psychological or something else? do you use these labels at all?

24. do you have any other identities beside being a dragon?

25. do you own any gear (tails, horns, jewelry etc.) related to your draconity?

26. how does your species communicate primarily? do you use speech, sounds/vocals and/or body language?

27. is your dragon self animalistic/feral or sapient?

28. do you have a visual description of yourself or something that looks similar to your dragon body?

29. do you have any body modifications (tattoos, implants etc.)?

30. are there any dragons/other dragonkin who inspire you?

31. free space

the reason i made this ask game is because i will try to answer every one of the questions during the last month of the year of the dragon. this is a sort of "dragonkin ask game/challenge", and you can try it too, if you want.

thank you for taking a look <3

[peppermintquartz]

Chris opens the door and embraces Deacon in a warm welcome. He hugs her back with one arm, the other holding flowers and a case of beer. It feels almost like old times.

"It's been too long, man," she chides. "Come on in. Street's so excited, he's gone out to get this amazing tiramisu we found on one of our dates."

"You didn't have to go to that much trouble," Deacon says, smiling. "Oh that smells great."

"My aunt gave me a surefire chili recipe. We've tested it several times, it's definitely good."

"And you look good. How's everything? The shelter doing okay?"

"Yeah," says Chris. "Thanks to Nichelle, I got in touch with some sympathetic ears and they've been super generous, and I've been able to find a steady roster of volunteers. Plus, with our rep, we're left alone for the most part, and anyone trying anything gets warned off fast by the ones running the block."

Deacon makes a face. "Not sure if that's the safest way to go about things."

"Gotta work both sides of the law now," Chris says with a shrug. Deacon means well but he's still a straight white man who has always lived in privilege. "But my girls are all on the straight and narrow. I've fourteen of them with me, and six have found sponsors to help them to get work permits, which will help with getting full documentation. I'm helping another two cooperate with police because they were smuggled here after being sold by their parents for cash, and the rest... well, we'll get there." She grimaces before grinning. "Sorry. I get excited talking about my work."

"No, no it's good. I'm happy for you." Deacon hands her the colorful bouquet and the beer. "It's great that you found your purpose."

Thanking him for the gifts and rummaging around for a vase or jug for the flowers, she asks, "So how come you're here alone? I was under the impression that it'll be you and Annie. Wine?"

"Water, please. I'm driving." Deacon sits down in one of the chairs around the dining table. She wonders what he notices about the place on his second visit. It's a cozy apartment, despite the industrial elements; she especially likes the new potted herbs Street has insisted upon, even though neither of them can tell a cabbage from a lettuce.

"I, uh, I wanted to chat with you, actually. Not, not chat." Deacon says as he rubs his wedding ring. "I want your advice on something that I need you to keep secret."

An odd feeling tickles the back of her neck. She sits down in the chair beside him, wondering if she should hold her friend's hand. "Sounds serious."

"I think it is." He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, like he's planning to dive into the deep end of a pool. "Chris, how and w-when did you know you're bisexual?"

Chris' eyebrows shoot up. That is definitely not a question she was expecting. "Uh. Okay. For me, I was fifteen and really into a boy, a classmate." Enrique Garcia, she recalls, lean and athletic with the cutest freckle on his right cheek, with a shoulder-length mop of gleaming dark curls. "And then, one day, I met him and his older sister Alina at the mall. She was really nice when we talked and my mind kinda went a little insane thinking how pretty she was and how much I'd love to kiss her."

"And that was... That was how you knew?"

She shrugs. "Some reading up and some very confusing dreams later, I kinda figured it out." She angles her head and studies Deacon. "Are you...?"

"Fifteen, wow." Deacon chews on his lower lip. The tips of his ears are red and he can't meet her eyes. "Maybe I'm too old for this."

"You met someone who's causing you to question everything you knew about your sexuality?"

He ducks his head, still fiddling with his wedding ring. "Yes," he admits quietly. "And I know, I know it's not good, I'm married and I have Annie, it's just really..."

Chris smiles and holds his forearm. "Confusing."

"So confusing," Deacon agrees with a brief chuckle. His voice sounds so unsure and lost that it's disorienting for Chris. That isn't the Deacon she has known for the past decade. "Annie is the perfect woman for me. Like, once I met her and got to know her, I knew she was the one I wanted to marry and have a family with. And I thought that was it. That that is all I would ever need or want."

"But now you've met someone. Some guy."

Ducking his head, Deacon bites his lip and shakes his head. "I'm over fifty, Chris. I shouldn't be having sexuality crises at this age. But, yes. I met some guy."

"He's that special, huh." Chris hopes she doesn't sound judgmental. Having been through this with her own family, she feels for him. And a part of her feels honored that someone she respects so much will choose to come out to her. "Am I the first to know?"

"Yes." He clears his throat. "I never thought I would be interested in a man like that. And yet... I feel happy whenever I see him. I worry about him at work. I hear a song on the radio and it'll remind me of him."

There's something that Deacon is hiding. After so many years as a cop and now helping scared women, she's learned to read between the lines.

Still holding his forearm, she says, "Thanks for trusting me with this, Deac. I'm so honored by your trust."

He sniffs and finally looks at her, his eyes dewy with a hint of tears. "Chris, am I bisexual?"

"You could be," she says. "I can't answer for you. I'm not some mind reader for queer people. You might be attracted to women in general and one guy in particular, and that's normal. Sexuality is a spectrum and the great thing is, you get to define yourself. It may feel overwhelming-"

"Understatement of the year."

"-but I can point you in the direction of some websites or resources you can refer to. Don't be surprised if any are angled at teens, though. Most people who are questioning tend to be young."

"Unlike this old geezer," Deacon jokes weakly. She squeezes his forearm as she grins, then lets go of him.

"You're never too old to learn new tricks, Deac." Taking a deep breath, Chris leans closer and says, "I'm gonna ask something that may be invasive, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but you may feel better if you do."

Deacon sighs like he knows what's coming and looks at her.

"Are you seeing this guy?"

The guilt that flickers over Deacon's face tells Chris enough.

"Oh, Deac..." She pulls him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to know about that," he murmurs.

She squeezes him and pulls back enough to smile at him. "I'm your friend, Deac. But you know you can't have him."

He nods, pressing his lips tightly together. "I know. I wish... I don't know what I wish. But Chris... Chris, I'm so happy when I'm with him." There's a waver in his voice. "I didn't know that I could even be this happy with anyone."

Not even with Annie.

The words are not said, but she hears them as clear as day. She hugs him again.

They hear the keys jingle and Deacon straightens, rubbing his thumb and index finger over his eyes while clearing his throat.

"Hey, Deacon!" Street comes in with an insulated bag and Chris stands up to welcome him with a kiss. His dimples deepen and his eyes light up. "Hey babe. Deac, come here, bring it in."

Deacon smiles and hugs Street. The mask has fallen back in place over Deacon's face and Chris makes sure hers is present too.

"I'll go plate up dinner," she says with a smile, kissing Street again as she passes him and takes the tiramisu from his hands, leaving the two men to catch up. Deacon won't tell Street what he told her; that's not the friendship they have, and she knows he trusts her not to tell anyone what he's revealed to her.

It's not her secret to tell, and Deacon will need time. He'll do the right thing, she's sure. She only hopes he figures out what the right thing for him will be.

[estellardreams]

"You've changed..."

[Continuation of this mini fic]

(Prince MK belongs to @purble-turble. Genuinely I just came up with the name for this mini dark lotusnoodles spinoff AU so uh yeah)

It was... Rough, to say the least. Being forced to stay in a rather small cell while awaiting trial.

There was a small pulse on the wall before a ring of golden energy pushed back the wall to an open door.

Mk stood on the other side, still carrying Lán in his arms.

He paused, looking between everyone. He quietly shuffled back, trying to keep his distance.

Wukong got to his feet, putting his hand up to the ring.

"Hey... Kiddo. You okay?" he softly asked.

Lán looked between him and her baba, then back at him.

"Baba isn't normally allowed to speak to you all without papa's supervision."

"What?! Why?!" Mei exclaimed, getting to her feet.

Wukong frowned. "Nezha... He's the one who told her that, huh?"

Lán blinked, her once innocent expression shifting to a more darkened gaze. "Now I see why papa warned me about you all..."

She climbed out of MK's hold, walking up to the ring. Despite being a young nine year old, she oddly had an intimidating aura around her.

"You're all trying to endanger my baba again! He's safer here than with any of you because in trying to rescue him, you're just gonna let him get caught by that Demon King Red like all those other times!" she snapped.

Wukong froze. "Kid, it's not like that I promise!"

"Then how come baba is still here if you and the king aren't here?"

... Okay, he couldn't quite argue with her logic- No that's what Nezha wants.

Wukong shook his head, kneeling down to Lán. "This might be hard to explain, but I'm your baba's mentor. I want to protect him just as much as you and your papa do."

"Then why couldn't you?"

"I... I didn't see the signs. And I'm so sorry I put you in danger like that." his gaze shifted back up to MK.

MK's turned away, trying to not look at his friends and family.

It hurt too much.

It hurt that he couldn't talk to them.

Couldn't... Say anything.

He so badly wanted to tell them.

Just... Everything.

But of course, especially here, he couldn't say a word.

"... I'm sorry I can't talk to you all. Lán, let's go." MK took Lán's hand and began to lead her away.

"Baba? Where are we going?" she asked.

"How about you go play with your friends?"

"Okay! Race ya!" she immediately bolted.

MK waited until she turned the corner before rushing back to the cell ring.

"I don't have much time before I gotta get back to her, okay?" he whispered, a bit panicked.

"Yeah yeah yeah, it's fine. MK, how are you holding up?" Wukong asked.

"Ehh. Could be doing better. This stupid flower pin is keeping me from leaving this realm. And no, I can't take it out."

He growled. "Of course. It's a less threatening and harmful version of restraints that king red would've usually gone for but it still keeps you here."

"Yeah."

"Okay but what's the deal with the KID?!"

"Lán's... A kid Nezha made without my knowledge using his and my own DNA into a pearl stone."

"How long had it been for you? I'm so sorry we couldn't come sooner we really wanted to but the barriers between the Mortal Realm and Celestial Realm were really powerful."

"Ah, that explains it. And yes, it's been almost nine years for me."

"Shoot. Six months for us, nine years for him. Oh, what are we gonna do?" Mei began to slip into a panic.

"Mei, I promise it's gonna be okay. All of you just hang in there, okay? Maybe I can... Hopefully get you all a lighter sentence or something?"

"I... Don't think they'd take your word over the lotus prince." Tang said.

"Oh, right..." MK frowned, moving his hands back to his sides.

"What's with the weird outfit, anyway?" Mei asked.

"The... Gown? That's, uh... A choice. Honestly I just wanted something not traditional and extremely red that King Red would've put me in so..."

"That... Makes sense? I guess?"

MK flinched, hearing footsteps from the far end of the hall.

"I need to go, I'm so sorry. Bye!" he quickly shut off the ring and made a run for it, catching right back up to Lán.

Unfortunately MK wasn't allowed in the courtroom.

Nezha and Li Jing were there, making sure things went smoothly along the nine kings.

"And to read out our sentence..." the third king spoke, holding up the scroll.

"Sun Wukong, Long Xiaojiao, Sha Wujing, Zhu Bajie, and Tang Sazang have been deemed... Guilty. Over trespassing, attacking the heavenly army, and attempted kidnapping of the lotus prince's fiance. The Lotus Prince himself will bring about your worthy punishment."

Nezha got up from his seat, drifting down in front of the five calmly.

"Father. I wish to punish them with the Pagoda. To ensure they are never a threat to Heaven again." he said.

"Very well, then." Li Jing drifted down and activated the pagoda. The celestial guards keeping watch in the court forced the five to be sucked in before it shut off.

"It is done... All of you are dismissed." Nezha ordered.

"But what of your fiancé? Is he alright after such attacks?" Li Jing asked.

"Yes, of course. I've been keeping watch over him and he didn't get hurt."

"That's good."

"Now I'm gonna go back to him and our daughter! Goodbye, father."

"Goodbye, son."

Nezha flew off, finding MK watching over Lán, whom was playing with other children in the realm.

"Hey, MK." Nezha sat down next to him.

He quietly leaned onto him. "Don't worry about your friends. No harm came to them, I made sure of it."

"Oh thank the great sage, thank you..." MK breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned back to the lotus prince. "Can I see them?"

Nezha paused. How was he gonna tell him that he got them locked up in the Pagoda?

"... Not at the moment. I apologize."

"Oh... Then, um... Maybe soon?"

Soon... Nezha would have to find some way to show that they were all still there, somehow. But he could figure that out in time.

"Of course."

MK's gaze shifted back to the children playing around. Nezha leaned onto his shoulder, tugging at him in a hug.

"Love you, MK."

Mk didn't say anything. But deep in Nezha's heart, he was silently saying it right back to him.

And that made him feel so much better.