#And yet I have things to do and that I want to do and no idea of why nor where I'm going from here

[hoshifighting]

Can you please do svt members who eat out their girls because they want to pleasure them vs those who genuinely fucking love the taste of pussy vs those who are so into eating out they might just cum totally untouched while eating you out

why svt like to eat pussy?

WARNINGS: pure putaria and smut, oral (f. receiving), pussy-drunk analogy.

eats you out bc he wants to pleasure you

seungcheol: the type to give you a speech about how he’s a man of duty and literally write essays about making sure you have toe-curling, back-arching, crying-in-pleasure levels of satisfied.

seungkwan: gold star service provider. it’s giving “nothing but the best for my baby.” he type to ask for feedback mid-session like, “is that good? or do you want me to go harder?”

wonwoo: mf reads books about anatomy to perfect his technique. he’s meticulous as hell, but he’s also so quiet and focused while doing it that you’re left wrecked because how does he even know your body better than you??

seokmin: he’s just so happy to make you happy. he’s the king of telling you how good you’re doing while he’s down there, and it’s the most wholesome yet sinful thing ever.

vernon: this man’s lowkey about it. he’s not saying much—he’s just doing it. very intuitive, very chill, but still SO effective. the kind who gives lazy and broad licks but somehow leaves you shaking. and when he’s done, he’s like, “you wan’me to order some food?” like he didn’t just wreck your entire existence. would probably frown at the sight of your legs shaking. (gives this vibe of that one meme: my boyfriend just left me trembling, and now he is playing minecraft)

2. loves the taste of pussy

jeonghan: smirks while wiping his mouth this man will straight-up tell you he loves the way you taste. and the thing is, he’s cocky but he’s earned it. you’re left wondering who’s being pleasured here because he’s moaning like he’s the one getting off.

joshua: sweet, until he’s between your legs like a man possessed, act like you’re a full-course meal, and he is starving. will kiss you after, totally unbothered that you can taste yourself on his lips.

minghao: he’s the type to tell you you’re delicious with the most deadpan sincerity while licking his lips, and it’s lowkey terrifying how good he is at it.

jun: this man is an enthusiast. he’ll legit say, “I could do this all day,” and you believe him. will pause mid-session to kiss your thighs just to prolong his enjoyment. he is is savoring you like the main course you are.

vernon (again, because he’s sneaky like that): listen, once he gets a taste, it’s game over. sure, he acts chill, but he’s obsessed. you’ll hear him humming into you, vibing just like when the waiter put your fav food on your table.

3. so into eating out they might cum untouched (y’all already know these men are problems)

mingyu: he would grind against the mattress and your leg just from how turned on he is. you’d hear him moaning WITH YOU, and suddenly it’s not just about you anymore—he’s a mess, and it’s hot.

hoshi: would put his whole chest into it like it’s a performance. he’s slurping, he’s whining, and he’s holding onto you for dear life while losing himself in the process. will look up at you with those wide, starry eyes like, “did I do good, baby?” (might need a minute after because he is too into it)

woozi: his arms are locked around your thighs so you can’t run. his tongue is completely illegal. you’re sobbing, and he’s just groaning into you like it’s his orgasm. would cum untouched 100% and then smirk about it.

chan: this man is hungry. his whole vibe is;; “you’re my first meal of the day, and I’m starving.” mf has no shame, no chill, and no limits. he’s gripping your thighs like his life depends on it, grinding into the mattress because he’s that turned on. when he cums untouched, he’s shocked AND EMBARASSED like he wasn't literally eating you out seconds ago.

[salemlunaa]

ᥫ᭡just sit back and relaxᥫ᭡

let’s talk about pure consciousness // “I AM” state

So i realised i can’t just leave you guys hanging. i can’t just post about how you need to do shit yourselves and dip again. Even tho you guys have all you need on this app i will just be reiterating certain things.

all that’s needed is to relax

everything you do is correct, you can scratch that itch, you can lay any how, sit, even stand, when you set that intention, everything you do is correct, because when you are in that “I AM” state of mind, you are a god.

you don’t need anyone’s help, not any person who has a success story under their belt or any bloggers, including me. you don’t need anyone or anything because you are “I AM”

All that’s need is to relax, deep breathing, but don’t try to hard, this is first nature to you. A lot of you hear that you MUST relax so you force it. Don’t do that. When you hear these success stories it’s like they were so zoned out they didn’t realise they induced for a second. So let those thoughts pass through, accept them, even thoughts about what you ate today.

You CAN focus on the back of your eyelids but don’t force it.

A lot of you can’t and won’t admit that you still feel desperate for the void, you try and act like you don’t care but you do, it’s like that meme: “pretending you don’t care so your screen will load faster”. You still think that it’s your only way out and while trying to act all effortless, you’re begging for it to work on the inside. After acting relaxed you sit up confused as to why it “didn’t work”

you force the relaxation (which means you aren’t actually relaxing) because you still think you need the “I AM” state,

you can’t try to be effortless

you can’t try to zone out

just let it happen

and as for problems, they don’t exist, because the 3D doesn’t exist. The outerman may have woken up in unfavourable circumstances, the innerman has what it wants, what even are circumstances? The outerman keeps falling asleep, the innerman is a void master who gets whatever they want when they want.

The innerman is your true self. You have everything you could ever want, just relax and align.

remember:

deep breathing

relaxation {don’t force relaxation, it’s not going to help anything go “faster”, and that isn’t even needed because time isn’t real, you’re okay, you’re not running out of time no matter what circumstances show you}

affirm “I AM”/ let thoughts pass you by/ sing in your head/count/ replay scenarios whatever

don’t focus on how much time has passed because it doesn’t matter it isn’t real. don’t focus on “if it’s working yet” it has worked, {your innerman experiences your intentions as soon as you make them, you have an intention induce the void state, your innerman is already there, creation of events are already finished, it’s already happened}

immerse yourself in your thoughts and you’ll induce before you know it.

there’s no such thing as you tried and it didn’t work. trial and error does not exist for your innerman the REAL you. you’re not gaslighting yourself or being “delusional” it’s real. It’s done

pure consciousness is as easy as breathing, isn’t it wonderful?

[sunniques]

— 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your stepdad shows you how blissful life would be if it was just you and him.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be carried by cheol, mentions of drugging, daddy kink, spanking, cockwarming, fingering, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, mirror sex, having sex while someone else is in the same room, creampies, squirting

➺ WC: 6.5k

NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read. thank you to my oomf @wonustars for beta reading <3

Seungcheol is conscious of the fact that he’s been acting out of character ever since his wife returned from visiting her parents. Maybe he’s being too obvious about no longer wanting to stay married, but he doesn’t care. Not when making you happy is the greatest joy in his life.

“Cheolie,” you say sweetly as you gently tug on his hand to get his attention. “Look at this one! It’ll look so good on you!”

You’re giddily pointing at one of the many necklaces on display. It’s exactly the type of jewelry he likes to wear, and his heart tightens with affection at the fact that you know that. Unlike his wife.

“Sir, box this necklace up for me please,” he says to the employee attending you two without looking away from your smiling face.

“The price—”

“It’s fine,” Seungcheol waves him off without any hesitation. “I’ll pay whatever price.”

Even the man blushes when Seungcheol brings your intertwined hands to his lips to place a sweet kiss on the back of your hand. His love for you is so clear, and he thinks it’s extremely sweet that your boyfriend(?) bought every single piece of jewelry you said will look good on him without any hesitation.

“What about you, sweetheart?” Seungcheol says as he tugs you closer. “Do you want anything else?”

You tilt your head with a thoughtful hum. The cute bracelet and matching rings were enough for you, but there is something else you want. Something that only Seungcheol could get you and would mean more to you than the things you picked out.

“Will you choose something for me?”

Seungcheol’s heart stutters at the way you blink up at him, eyes shining with affection and anticipation. There’s no way he could ever say no to you, and the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of you going around wearing something he chose for you. So he pulls you to the opposite end of the counter where the more expensive items are at.

After you’re done, Seungcheol savors the walk to the car. Your hand in his feels so right. It’s almost like his hand was made to fit with yours. Even on the drive home, Seungcheol doesn’t let go of your hand. He’s not ready to yet. Knowing that he’ll have to let you go and act like you didn’t spend the day together is getting harder for him. Having to hide everything he feels for you is bothering him more and more as the days go on.

“We’re home!” You call loudly as you walk into the large foyer.

“You’re back!”

Your mom rises from the couch when you step into the living room. Immediately, she goes to hug your stepdad. You stifle a laugh when Seungcheol obviously dodges her kiss and it lands on his cheek instead. Your mom frowns but doesn’t say anything. Instead she focuses on all the shopping bags in her husband’s hands.

“What’s all this?” She glances up at her husband before looking back at you. “Did you ask Seungcheol to take you shopping?”

“He offered,” you say casually, trying not to sound smug. “Since we’re spending next week at the villa.”

Your mom sighs and looks at her husband pointedly. “You didn’t need to buy her so many things.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Seungcheol says sincerely. “It’s the first time we’re going away together as a family, so I wanted to spoil her a little.”

Your mom frowns, but doesn’t argue. “Fine, but Y/N, at least help your stepdad with the bags!”

Seungcheol waves his wife off, assuring her once again that it’s no problem. You shrug insouciantly when your move gives you an irritated look. It’s not your fault her husband’s love language is acts of service (not that she would know). Instead of lingering downstairs so she can nag you, you follow your stepdad upstairs.

A warm feeling tugs on your chest when you see him set down all the bags beside your bed. You wonder what it would would be like to live every day like this—a life where it’s just you and him. The fleeting thought pushes you to go and hug him from behind.

Seungcheol smiles when you lean your head against him and tighten your arms around his waist.

“Thank you for my gifts, Cheolie.”

The words are spoken sincerely and with no trace of lust. Only with pure, unadulterated affection. It makes him smile wider. “You’re welcome, baby.”

You two stay like that for a while until your mom’s voice calls for her husband. A petulant frown takes over your face as you reluctantly step away from Seungcheol. It’s times like these where you wonder how much longer you can keep doing this. Sharing him wasn’t (that much of) an issue for you before, but things shifted drastically after the weekend you two spent alone. Now, Seungcheol feels more like yours than he ever has.

What you don’t realize is that your stepdad feels the same way, only his feelings are ten times more intense than your own.

That night, Seungcheol lays in bed and goes over his plan to make sure his wife doesn’t get in the way next week. He plans to have fun with you and only you. It’s the perfect opportunity to show you what a life with him will be like. By the end of the week, he knows you’ll want nothing more than to start a life where it’s just the two of you.

“Mom, it’s not a real vacation if you work the entire time,” you say with a sigh.

As usual your mom waves you off with a disinterested hum. She types away on her computer, only pausing to take a sip of her coffee. “I just need to answer a few emails.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

Even though it’s such a nice day out, your mom refuses to go anywhere. The most she’s willing to do is sit out on the terrace and work. It makes you wonder why she suggested this vacation in the first place.

“Why don’t you go keep Seungcheol company?” Your mom suggests without looking up. “He’s inside watching a movie.”

You sigh again and head to the living room where your stepdad is. Licking your lips, you go over and join him on the couch. Seungcheol smiles warmly when you sit down next to him. He wraps a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer. His hand slowly trails up until his fingers are teasing your nipple. The thin sundress you’re wearing makes it easy for him to get it to pebble.

“You look so cute, princess,” Seungcheol says as he roughly squeezes your tit. “Did you wear my favorite dress on purpose?”

The devious smirk you give him makes him groan quietly. He yanks up the hem of your dress, exposing your plush thighs and bare pussy to the cool air. Seungcheol licks his lips. “Fuck. You just wanted me to see your cute little cunt, didn’t you, brat?”

“Yes,” you say as your body burns with need.

You spread your thighs, bearing your dampening cunt completely for your stepdad. Seungcheol goes to cup your pussy, thumb slowly rubbing dizzying circles on your clit.

“You’re already so wet,” he groans in delight. “What a little slut.”

You mewl as he slowly sinks two fingers into your clenching hole. A loud whine gets stuck in your throat as Seungcheol’s fingers venture deeper into your needy cunt, eagerly seeking out the spongy spot that always reduces you to a moaning mess. You rock your hips slightly as you turn your head to bury it in his broad shoulder.

“Daddy,” you whimper as his fingers flex deeper into your soaked pussy. “Make me cum.”

“Nasty girl,” Seungcheol’s smirk is wolfish as he sinks a third finger into you. “You that desperate for me?”

Your cunt throbs and releases more juices as his long fingers scissor you open. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach as your tight walls flutter around his fingers. They slowly pick up the pace, reaching the spot that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yes—fuck. It feels so good, daddy,” you whine brokenly as your tight walls suck on his fingers.

“You’re going to get us caught if you keep being loud, baby,” Seungcheol groans as his thick cock strains against his sweatpants.

You moan softly when his fingers slide deeper inside you to press against the sensitive spot that always makes your brain shut down. He laughs in his throat when your eyes shut and your mouth drops open in a silent moan. The sound of your arousal gets louder with every passing moment. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as he grabs your leg to hook it over his own to spread your pussy wider for him.

“God, just look at how wet you are,” Seungcheol uses his free hand to grab the back of your head and force you to watch as he plays with your squelching pussy. “Dripping all over my nice couch.”

“Can’t help it, daddy,” you whimper as you watch his long fingers penetrate your tight hole. “I’ll lick it clean later.”

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, cock throbbing at your filthy words. You’re both entranced with how your cream is coating his long fingers, noticeably creating a ring where his wedding band is. You can’t deny that you love how your juices stain the metal. It’s like you’re claiming his as yours.

“Nasty little slut,” Seungcheol growls as he works your pussy open. “You like daddy fingerfucking you while your mom is on the terrace?”

You close your eyes and nod dizzily.

“Keep your eyes open, brat.”

The demand is followed by a harsh slap on your cunt. Your loud cry mixes in with the lewd sounding smack. Seungcheol quickly stifles your cry by smashing his lips onto yours. He swallows all your moans and mewls as he forces his tongue into your mouth. The way his tongue massages yours is enough to push you over the edge.

Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as your orgasm rips through you. Seungcheol groans into your mouth as you gush all over his fingers. Your soft cry sounds so hot, even if it is stifled by his mouth.

“That’s it, princess,” he murmurs adoringly as you grind into his hand. “Fuck. It’s so easy to make you cum.”

You whine when he slowly pulls his fingers out of your soaking cunt. Your pussy flutters when you see sticky strings of arousal clinging to his long digits. Seungcheol gives you a filthy smirk before he sucks on his fingers, groaning lowly at your sweet taste.

“Can I have your cock now, daddy?” You bat your eyelashes in the way that always gets him to do what you want.

Seungcheol immediately pulls down his sweats enough to let his cock spring free. It pulses with need as he goes to lay you on your back. Your dress is pulled higher to completely expose your messy pussy.

“Be good for me, baby,” your stepdad hisses as he rubs his leaking tip between your folds.

Your cunt clenches around nothing as Seungcheol collects your arousal on his cock. He smirks down at you before slowly easing into you. His groan makes you clamp down on him.

“Goddamn,” Seungcheol groans when he finally bottoms out. “Pretty little pussy’s always so fucking tight.”

Impatient as ever, you start to grind up into him, using his cock like a toy. Seungcheol’s eyes gleam with fondness as your juices smear all over his pelvis. He starts to move, hips grinding into yours. You moan quietly as his thick cock stretches and fills your needy hole.

“Harder, daddy,” you whine like the brat you are. “Make me cum all over your big cock.”

Seungcheol growls quietly. He loves how nasty and needy you get whenever your mom’s around. As always, he can’t deny you or himself that pleasure. Your stepdad starts fucking into you roughly, making your pretty tits bounce in your dress. He roughly yanks down the material, loving how hard your nipples are. He swoops down to suck and bite on them, hips never stopping as he fucks his thick cock into your aching cunt.

“Daddy!” You mewl, arching your back and forcing your tit deeper into his mouth.

You love how he’s fucking you like some mindless animal. His cock is drenched with your cream, completely coated to the hilt. You cry out when his leaking tip hits your sweet spot, repeatedly ramming it over and over again.

Seungcheol nips at your nipple before moving to give the other one the same attention. His heavy balls slap your ass with every thrust, and he can feel his orgasm quickly approaching.

The sound of the glass doors sliding open startles you, but not enough to tell your stepdad to stop. Seungcheol slows his movements, but makes no move to slip out of your pussy. He releases your nipple with a too loud pop and slowly straightens out. You cover your mouth with your hands, pussy clenching as you hear footsteps fade into the direction of the kitchen.

“Honey, where’s Y/N?”

Seungcheol eyes flicker down to you, cock throbbing at the sight of you all fucked out underneath him. All his wife has to do is walk in his direction to see her lovely daughter stuffed full of cock with her pretty tits out. She’d see the remnants of his spit on them and know he was licking and sucking on them like he’d never done to hers.

“She went upstairs. I think the movie bored her.”

Luckily, only your stepdad’s head and shoulders are visible from over the back of the couch. You’re completely hidden, which is why Seungcheol slowly starts to drive his girthy cock into you. You’re sure that if the movie wasn’t playing, your mom would be able to hear the lewd squelching coming from your pussy.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to have to jump on a call in a bit,” your mom says dismissively, clearly not too interested in your whereabouts. If only she knew. “I’ll be out on the terrace for a while.”

“Fine,” Seungcheol’s voice is a bit strained as his wife comes out of the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee. “Just make sure you tell your boss that this is the only call you’ll take this week.”

His hips have stopped moving by now, but the fact that you can tell your mom has come closer makes you clench down on his cock. You stifle a whine as you carefully grind on his dick. Your clit bumps against his pelvis, making your eyes cross from pleasure.

“You know I can’t do that,” your mom sounds disapproving as she looks down at her phone. “The company needs me. No one knows more about this proposal than I do.”

Using the distraction on her phone to his advantage, Seungcheol grabs your hips and pulls you down on him as he gently thrusts forward. The fat tip of his cock slams right into your sweet spot, and you can barely hold back your moan. Light tremors rake through your body as your stepdad keeps fucking you while his wife in none the wiser. His hands slip down to your thighs before he presses them into the couch to keep you spread for him.

Fuck. It’s such a filthy sight that he almost wishes his wife would see it. That way she would see for herself how much better you look taking his cock.

“Okay. Just let me know when you’re done working. Y/N wanted to go to the beach later.”

His heated gaze stays on you as his wife mumbles a dismissive agreement. Seungcheol’s cock throbs as his wife walks back out to the terrace, sliding the door closed with an audible click.

Seungcheol lets out a dark laugh and immediately goes back to pounding your hot cunt. He grabs your hips and pulls you to meet his rough thrusts. Loud squelching and skin slapping fills the large room as your ravenous stepdad uses you to get closer to his orgasm.

“God, baby. You get so tight when you think we might get caught.” Seungcheol groans loudly, knowing his wife has put in her earphones by now to focus on her meeting. “You like the idea of your mom catching you fucking her husband?”

You nod through an impetuous moan. “Yes—fuck. I wonder what she’d do if she saw how much better you like my little pussy.”

“Filthy little brat,” Seungcheol groans fondly as he keeps pumping his leaking dick into you.

“You like it too, daddy,” you moan as his frantic movements grow rougher. “Just knowing your wife might walk in and see you stretching me out on your big cock turns you on.”

Seungcheol moans, unable to deny it. He starts to rub fast circles on your raw clit, eager to get you to cum on his cock. He gives you a filthy smirk when you tighten around him again.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Cream all over my cock so I can fill you up like you want?”

Your stepdad fucks into you harder when you moan out a desperate yes. He rams his cock deeper into your pussy until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. Filthy noises mix in with the forgotten movie as Seungcheol’s thick cock spears into your messy hole. His fingers play with your sensitive bud, quickly driving you over the edge from how good it all feels.

You wrap your legs around him, pussy convulsing as you cream all over his dick.

Seungcheol groans out your name, sloppily fucking you through your orgasm. Your pulsing walls grip his cock tightly, effectively milking him for his hot cum. He shoots thick ropes into your pussy, filling you to the brim. You happily take it all, loving how it drips down his cock with every needy grind. He slaps your pussy playfully before capturing your lips in another nasty kiss.

You gently nip at his soft lips, not wanting to separate from him yet. “Let’s go upstairs, daddy. We need to clean up before lunch.”

Sometimes, you wonder if your mom cares about you at all. In the morning, you wake up to a text saying she’s cutting the vacation short because an emergency came up at work. You almost think you’re still dreaming until you rub the sleep out of your eyes and read the text again.

It’s not disappointing, not exactly. From the start you knew she didn’t actually want to go on vacation. It was just another attempt to save her failing marriage, but as usual, she put her career first.

You roll out of bed and go to the master bedroom. Right away, you can tell your mom is gone. All her stuff is gone, and you wonder just how early she got up to catch a flight back home. You pout when you notice that Seungcheol also isn’t in the room. Since your mom is gone now, you had planned to wake him up with some head. Just as you contemplate your next move, you hear noise coming from downstairs.

One thing you never thought you’d see is Seungcheol standing at the stove, shirtless and only wearing pajama bottoms. He’s cooking something that smells delicious, and the fact that he looks so hot doing it just makes it even better.

You quietly walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his chiseled torso. “Morning, Cheolie.”

“Morning, baby.” He says fondly.

Your stepdad shudders when you place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. He basks in your touch, glad that you don’t immediately pull away from him now that you’re alone.

“I’m glad she’s gone,” you say after a while. “That way I can have you all to myself.”

Seungcheol knows he’s blushing, and he’s glad that you can’t see it. His heart pounds as he hums in agreement.

“We can do whatever you want, baby. Just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

You grin against his back, already planning the perfect day with him in your head.

After you two have breakfast, you and Seungcheol head to the beach. It’s a beautiful day out, and you love that you can openly hold his hand and be affectionate with him to your heart’s content.

“Let me put sunscreen on you, princess.”

You lay on your stomach, humming in delight when your stepdad’s big hands smooth down your back and legs. He really works the cream into your skin, making sure no place goes untouched. Once he’s done, you grin at him.

“Your turn.”

Seungcheol feels like he’s in heaven. He’s lying on his back with you sitting on his lap in the tiniest bikini he’s ever seen. You’re rubbing sunscreen all over his chest and torso, cooing about how hot he is every thirty seconds. He sees other men looking at him with pure envy, and that just makes the experience all the more sweeter. Because he belongs to you, and it’s clear that everyone on the beach knows it.

You spend most of the day at the beach, building sandcastles and playing in the pretty ocean. Being with Seungcheol makes you feel alive and at ease. He’s so easy to be with, and you can tell he feels the same way.

When you return to the villa, Seungcheol tells you to shower and get ready because he’s taking you to one of his favorite restaurants. The way you run upstairs while squealing with excitement is so endearing to him. He yells a reminder to use the bathroom in the master bedroom since that’s where you’ll be staying for the rest of the week. He laughs heartedly when you respond with yes, daddy!

Seungcheol has never felt more lucky than he does now with you on his arm. You cling to him as you’re escorted to a secluded table with a fantastic view of the city. Seungcheol pulls out your chair, eyes trained on the glittering necklace around your neck.

“You keep staring,” you say teasingly as your stepdad goes to sit down.

“It’s because you look incredible in diamonds,” he says honestly. “I’ll have to get you matching earrings next time.”

Your stomach flips in excitement. Not because he’s talking about getting you something incredibly expensive to go along with the diamond necklace he bought you, but because he says it like you deserve nothing less.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, eying the necklace you picked out for him.

“My girl has incredible taste.” He says with a flirtatious smile.

The words make your heart stutter. It’s the first time he’s said something like that without being in a sexual setting. You don’t hate it. Actually, you like it a little too much.

“What kind of wine do you prefer?” Seungcheol wonders as he looks through the menu.

“Choose for me,” you say. “I want to know what you prefer.”

Seungcheol tries to contain his smile as he tells the waiter to bring a bottle of red wine. It’s hard not to feel like a giddy schoolboy when you make it clear the relationship you two have is not just one sided. His heart soars every time you demand to know more about him.

The rest of the night feels like a beautiful dream, one that neither of you want to wake up from.

“Let’s go upstairs. I want to fuck you properly.”

You laugh excitedly as Seungcheol leads you up the stairs. He’s playfully biting at your neck and letting his hands roam your body. It feels so blissful that you barely register that you’ve made it to the master bedroom.

Seungcheol spanks your ass before he’s desperately yanking your dress off. You go to take off the expensive necklace you’re wearing, but he stops you.

“Leave it on.”

You feel arousal drip down your thighs as you go to lay on the bed. Seungcheol quickly takes off his own clothes. His eyes are locked on your body, staring at you like you’re his prey. You’re no better. Like always, you can’t take your eyes off of his girthy cock.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” Seungcheol demands as he gets on the bed. “I need to taste you.”

You do as he says, eager to feel his tongue slipping through your folds. A loud moan cuts through the air when he buries his face in your pussy. He places open mouth kisses on your lips and clit, eager to make you fall apart on his tongue.

“Fuck, daddy,” you moan at you use your hands to hold yourself open for him.

Seungcheol fucks his tongue into your fluttering hole, moaning at the taste of you. He quickly loses himself in your taste, slurping up every bit of your arousal. You clench down on his tongue as he messily licks back up to your clit. You writhe underneath him as he sucks your pulsing bud into his hot mouth. Eagerly, you grind your clenching cunt into his mouth.

“So fucking sweet,” your stepdad groans as he slowly pulls back.

You cry out when he gives your pussy a harsh slap. The wet smack sends tingles up your spine. Your pussy is pulsing as you stare at Seungcheol with hungry eyes. His lower face is completely covered with your juices, and he’s never looked hotter. You moan when he slaps your cunt again. It hurts so good, and you arch into it when he keeps doing it. Each slap is harder than the last, and by the time he’s done, you’re gushing all over the sheets.

“Roll over for me, baby.”

You do as he says, pussy clenching in eagerness. He’s always so rough when he takes you from the back. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as he yanks you toward him. Just when you think he’s going to tease you, he sinks his cock into your pussy.

“Take daddy’s cock like a good little princess.”

You let out a wanton cry when he harshly bottoms out. His leaking tip slams right into your g-spot and forces more juices out of your hot cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you deepen your arch.

“Fuck me, daddy!”

Seungcheol growls in his throat before he pulls his cock out of you halfway only to slam it back into your clenching heat. Arousal gushes from your pussy at his rough movements. You can feel your juices dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. A quiet whine escapes you when Seungcheol grabs your hair and pulls your head up to make you look into the mirror across from the massive bed. The sight is so filthy and hot that you start to lose yourself in the pleasure of it all.

Your stepdad starts pounding into your tiny pussy, fat cock stretching you out just how you like. As your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hips start to move on their own accord, rocking back on him to get his dick deeper inside of you.

“That’s it, baby,” Seungcheol groans, drilling his cock deeper into your squelching pussy. “Work that hot little cunt on your stepdad’s cock. Fuck. Get it nice and wet for me.”

You move your hips more eagerly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Seungcheol hammers into your sweet spot. He’s relentless, fucking you like you’re nothing more than a hole.

“Keep your eyes on me, brat,” Seungcheol commands as he gives your ass a hard smack.

He meets your eyes in the mirror and smirks. God is he fixated on you and the way you look while he’s splitting you open. Your diamond necklace dangles with every rough thrust, and it makes his cock twitch and throb. As always, Seungcheol was right. You look so lovely getting fucked in the diamond necklace he picked out for you.

“Da-Daddy,” you gasp out.

“So fucking tight,” Seungcheol groans, fucking into you harder than before.

The sound of skin slapping together gets louder, and so do your filthy moans. You watch Seungcheol in the mirror, loving how hot he looks while he destroys your pussy.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy,” you whine as you spread your legs.

Seungcheol hums approvingly and starts snapping his hips into you. He slaps your bouncing ass, pistoning his big cock in and out of your dripping cunt like a madman. You’re completely gone, moaning and mewling like it’s all you know how to do. It makes him go harder, fucking into your tight little pussy with no mercy.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do this outside.” Seungcheol decides, cock throbbing at the idea. “I’ll fuck you out in the open like the nasty slut you are.”

You slip your fingers down to rub your pudgy clit, loving his filthy words and how much they turn you on. Seungcheol lets out a dark laugh when he notices.

“Like that? Yeah, I bet you do,” he groans, taking his eyes off the mirror to watch your pretty ass recoil against his pelvis. “Dirty little brat. I’m gonna cream your little pussy until you can’t take anymore.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you mewl. “You’re so dirty.”

Seungcheol laughs as he drills his cock deeper into your cunt. His heavy balls slap your clit and drive you closer to your climax. All your stepdad has to do is give you one last thrust to push you over the edge. You yell out his name as your pussy gushes with your orgasm. Your stepdad groans loudly at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing his dick.

“That’s it, princess. Cream all over daddy’s cock like a good girl.”

You bounce back on him, eager to get him to stuff you full. “Cum inside me, daddy!”

Seungcheol moans your name and fucks his cock deep into your cunt before releasing his hot load inside you. Your pulsing walls milk him for everything he’s worth. Thick ropes of cum flood your little pussy until it’s leaking onto the soiled sheets. Slowly, Seungcheol pulls his cock out of your messy pussy. He loves the sight of his cum dripping out of your pretty cunt. It makes him ravenous all over again.

“Get up.”

You lick your lips and follow your stepdad as he gets off the bed. A squeal escapes you when he presses you against the wall. Seungcheol kisses you hotly as he pulls you closer to him. You barely notice as he goes to pick you up. He effortlessly throws your legs over his bulky arms before he teasingly drags his dripping cock over your messy cunt.

“Guide me in, baby,” he says as he presses wet kisses on your jaw. “Let daddy slide into your tight pussy.”

You whimper, pussy dripping with revived arousal. Lust clouds your mind as you go to do as he says. With one hand on his broad shoulder, you grab his cum covered cock and guide it to your soaking entrance. His bulbous tip nudges your pussy before he sinks you down on his throbbing cock. His hips flex as he slowly starts to fuck up into your little cunt.

“God, baby. Your cute little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks his cock against your sweet spot. Lewd squelching fills the room as your stepdad bounces you on his cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his big dick stretches you out for the second time. The slight pain from his thrusts make you clamp down on his cock tighter.

“Daddy,” you mewl almost pitifully. “You’re gonna break my pussy.”

Seungcheol laughs. Not only because you sound so fucked out, but because you rock your pussy down to meet his unhurried thrusts. You’re addicted to his cock, and he loves that you can never hide it.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he coos, eyes fixed on the way your bouncing tits make the diamond necklace look even prettier.

“Fuck,” you moan when he starts to fuck you harder. You gasp and moan when his hands go to grab your ass.

“Pretty little brat,” Seungcheol groans as he kneads and squeezes your ass. “You always look so pretty when you’re stuffed full of cock.”

He keeps thrusting into you until you’re cumming all over his cock. It makes him laugh in delight. “That’s it. Cream all over daddy’s cock. Fuck. Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

You cry out as Seungcheol keeps bouncing you on his cock while he fucks up into your aching pussy. You’re drunk with pleasure, not bothering to stifle your wanton moans as you get split open with every rough thrust. The room reeks with the smell of sex, and it makes your pussy throb in delight. It always ends up this way, and you love that there’s always evidence left behind of how badly your stepdad is addicted to your tight little pussy.

“Cum again for me, sweetheart. Give daddy what he wants.”

Seungcheol smirks when you let out a fucked out whine. “What? Did daddy already fuck you dumb?”

Your pussy tightens and drips with more juices as you nod stupidly. Once again, your stepdad laughs meanly like he couldn’t be more proud that you can’t even respond to him properly.

Seungcheol squeezes your ass before he walks you back to the bed. You clamp down on him with every step he takes. A petulant whine of protest gets stuck in your throat when he pulls out of you with an obscenely wet sound. He tosses you on the bed before joining you.

“Dumb little brat. You can't stand not being stuffed full of your stepdad’s cock, huh?”

You give him a smirk, a little more lucid now. “Just like you can’t stand not having your cock buried in your stepdaughter’s pussy.”

Seungcheol places your legs over his shoulders and forces his cock back into your needy cunt. You cry out in pleasure, happy that your goading worked.

“You’re right. That’s why I’m gonna have to stay buried in your hot little cunt all week. Keep my little brat nice and full.”

You moan and grind your hips to meet his ravenous thrusts. “Fuck yes. Please, daddy. That’s all I want.”

Something about you begging so prettily and nicely always gets Seungcheol off. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna creampie this sweet little hole the entire time we’re here. That’s what a good stepdad does, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry, feeling another orgasm creeping up on you. “You’ll be a good stepdad and stuff my needy pussy, right, Cheolie?”

Something inside him switches when you use that endearing nickname. You’ve never used it during sex, but he doesn’t hate it. He absolutely loves it because it feels so much more intimate.

“Yes, baby,” his deep voice makes your toes curl. “I’m gonna give you a nice hot load. As many times as you want.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his filthy promise. His cock throbs and twitches inside you as he moves one of his hands to rub and pinch at your puffy clit.

“Cum for me, princess. Need your tight little pussy to milk me again,” Seungcheol coos softly.

You pant wantonly as your stepdad hammers his cock harder into your hot cunt. His fingers keep working your sensitive clit as he spears his thick cock deep into you. It’s all too much, and before you realize it, another orgasm crahses into your body.

“DADDY!” Your scream is loud as you arch your back, pussy gushing and clenching around Seungcheol’s huge cock.

“Fucking shit. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for daddy.” Seungcheol groans as he fucks into your squirting cunt while your walls milk him for all he’s worth.

A feral noise leaves him as he buries his cock to the hilt, girthy length pulsing inside you as thick ropes of cum shoot into your pussy. Seungcheol fucks his spunk deeper inside you, leaning down to place gentle kisses all over your face.

“Taking it so well,” he murmurs adoringly, cock throbbing with pleasure. “Such a good girl for me.”

Seungcheol captures your lips in a heated kiss as his cock releases the last bit of cum. He pulls away and gives you one last affectionate peck before he sits up. His cocks slowly slips out of you, and Seungcheol’s eyes get impossibly darker when he sees his cum slowly tricking from your pussy. You love the possessive look on his face so you clench your pussy to push out more of his hot cum.

“This week’s going to be perfect.” He sighs contentedly.

You hum in agreement, making grabby hands at him. Seungcheol smiles sweetly and goes to cuddle you how you want. You sigh into his chest, letting the exhaustion take over.

“Love you, Cheolie. So much.”

Seungcheol presses a sweet kiss to your hair, basking in the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.”

“So, how’s your vacation going?”

Seungcheol hums against your scalp, holding back a groan when you unconsciously clench down on him. You two decided to spend the day by the pool, which led to you wanting to cockwarm him. So now, he’s laying on one of the pool chairs with you on top of him. Your bikini bottoms are pulled to the side as his big cock pulses inside of you.

The fact that he can lull you to sleep while his dick is inside you is so endearing to him. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, and once he hangs up his call he’ll fuck you awake, just how you like.

“Amazing,” Seungcheol doesn’t bother to hide the bliss in his voice. “Thanks again for calling my wife into work.”

Jeonghan laughs deviously. “I owed you one. You helped me pull off my plan.”

Seungcheol laughs along as he thinks back to the pills he gave his friend for his own nefarious agenda. “It took you longer than I thought.”

“You of all people know that plans like ours take time. If anything went wrong, I would’ve lost everything.” Jeonghan sighs as he thinks back on how long it took to perfectly orchestrate everything. “And you know I would never let myself be a bad guy in my little girl’s eyes.”

It’s true. He’s sure Jeonghan would rather die than have his stepdaughter think less of him.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says after a beat of silence. “What’s the next step? I can only keep your wife busy with work for so long.”

Seungcheol grins when you cuddle deeper into his neck. You’re close to waking up, so he’ll have to cut his call short.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a devious grin as his hand smooths down your back. “By this time next year, my ex wife won’t even be a thought.”

[dante-mightdie]

Girl if you don’t give us some more low self esteem reader x price i think i’m gonna die 😫😫 genuinely one of my favs!!

john who finally convinces our lovely low self esteem reader to let him take her out and when the time comes, he’s outside your door all suited and booted. expensive bouquet in his hand as he shifts on his feet, anxiously waiting for you to open the door

it’s been ten minutes since he rung the doorbell. ten minutes since you text him saying you’d be down in a second. he understands that sometimes a lady needs time getting ready but now you aren’t even responding to his messages checking on you

he can’t see you pacing from your bathroom back to your bedroom, pulling and twisting at your outfit until it ‘fits right’. cursing under your breath each time you apply more lip gloss or mascara, only to end up smudging your makeup and ruining it

he can’t see the tears welling in your eyes each time you catch your reflection and you just can’t do it. nothing is working because of you. and john is going to see that. john is going to see you. and you just can’t have that so you leave him down there, waiting for you as you sniffle and pull at your hair in frustration

so he calls you, stepping back to see if your upstairs light was still on as the ringing drones on in his ear. and when you do finally pick up, the first thing he’s greeted with is sniffles

“h-hi john…” you say, a nervous laugh following. before he can ask if you’re okay, you speak again. “m’really sorry to do this but… uhm…”

“love?” he cuts you off, a gentle tone in his voice so you know he’s not upset. a few seconds silence follows before you sniffle again

“yeah?” he can hear the sadness in your voice, the uncertainty. his eyes flick up once more to look at the light coming from your upstairs window

“come open the door, yeah? let me see ya, doll… been waiting all week to see that pretty smile just one more time.” the heat pooling in your stomach at his sweet words causes more tears to leak down your cheeks

you don’t know why he’s any different to the other guys you’ve shut down. you don’t know why you agree to see him and shuffle downstairs to open the door

but that kind smile he throws your way when you finally open the door is enough to make your lip wobble a little more so he distracts you with the bouquet of your favourite flowers

“how did you know-?” you’re ready to question him, and he can see the little glint in your eye. runaway thoughts of maybe this guy is a stalker who’s been watching you. not some prince charming like you’d be reluctantly convincing yourself.

“I asked ya friends at the bar when I was getting your drinks. wanted to know what I should get you for our first date.” there’s a proud beam in his smile, like he knows he’s won you over a little there

“You hadn’t even asked me out yet…” you giggle slightly, sniffling before looking down at the stunning arrangement of flowers

“don’t matter, darling. I knew I was going to the second I saw you…” he states it like it’s obvious, like you should know he was going to pursue you. his hand reaches up to wipe your teary cheeks before offering you his arm to take

“hang on let me change.” you go to turn but he stops you, shaking his head and taking the initiative to wrap your arm in his

“none of that. you look beautiful…” you hate the way his words turn you to mush inside. you hate yourself for falling for it, for leaving yourself vulnerable to his sweet words and charming smile

but you don’t hate him, and the attention he gives you so you figure one date with the handsome man who bought you a drink couldn’t hurt

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

say yes to heaven

how spencer and you deal (or don't deal) with the fact that he doesn’t want a baby anymore after coming home from prison, and you really do.

MDNI | angst

word count: 2226 warnings & tags & stuff: bau!reader, avoidant!reader, avoidant spencer, no happy ending (wtf), reader wants a baby, one line about reader not having a certain religious belief, they like almost have sex, spencer undresses reader, lots of talk about a condom, they dont really fight at all?, very underdeveloped/bad description of quantum immortality author's note: heyyyyy guyss whats up..... this is a different vibe to my regular stuff and i fear it may be really ooc?? i don't know how to feel but i literally have to post or i'll go even more crazy sooo here we are!! have a delightful day, let me know your thoughts if you have any, ily!!!

Antique shops, you and Spencer have decided, are the hidden gems of this nation yet to be appreciated enough by the general public. 

Each town or city you visit is bound to have one, and going to them has become a little celebratory tradition. In the early mornings after cases are solved, right before the plane ride home, you take a look around. You’re typically the first and only ones in the store, wandering with intertwined hands and sipping on ‘2 extra foamy cappuccinos with an additional shot of espresso, please’ and occasionally, but not necessarily, choosing something to take back to D.C.

You’ve been trying your absolute hardest to fill your home to the brim– sometimes with objects, and other times with words, or touch, or the ever so valuable and fleeting concept of shared time– in effort to replace what had been lost in that three month long period when it was completely devoid of tangible, fresh love.

It’s today you’re wandering through a quaint, very cluttered shop in western Oregon, the Pacific visible from the store’s windows. 

Wheels up in an hour. Don’t be late. Hotch’s text buzzes in your pocket, but you barely glance at it– there’s something about the Oregon coast that reaches into your heart and gives it a gentle massage, enveloping you in a refreshing lack of urgency.

Spencer, in his own peaceful world, is staring at a tall wall of books. He reaches out to pick up a dusty rendition of Moby Dick, carefully cracking it open to the first few pages to check the publication date, brow scrunching as he reads. You go to peer over his arm to check as well, when something catches the corner of your eye. You let go of his hand to inspect.

A bassinet. Dark wood, surface polished to a faint sheen, with intricate little waves engraved on the sides, like the ocean’s misty outreach had come all the way into the shop and placed this here for you to see. 

You weren’t exactly sure when this now familiar ache had started; this deep, internal desire felt in your stomach for a little hand to be gripped around your pointer and for tiny onesies to fill your laundry basket, but you’re sure, with every fiber of your being, that you want it to be there.

“Spence,” you say softly, voice jarring in the otherwise stillness of the shop. “Come look.” He carefully closes the book and puts it back where it was and pads over, looking down at the bassinet. His eyebrows raise slightly.

“Wow. It looks like it was made in the 80s, maybe even earlier. You won’t find any level of detailing more recently than that, it’s too labor intensive for modern production methods. Good find.”

“I know. Should we get it?” you ask, biting a smile. He quickly meets your eyes, brow raising slightly.

“Do you want to?” he asks, voice even.

“I mean, I just think it’s really cute, with the waves and stuff.” you say bashfully, nudging it with your toe so it rocks back and forth. Spencer swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

“Yeah, I just…” Spencer hesitates. “I don't think we’d be able to bring it on the jet. It would probably snap in half if we held it in the wrong way,” he says, making your brain race even though he hasn’t said a single thing that should cause it to do so.

“Oh.”

You blink.

“No, yeah, you’re totally right. It’s too inconvenient. You should get that copy of Moby Dick instead. That edition looked cool, with the forward explaining all the names,” you say gently, pushing a smile, nudging him back towards the shelf. He goes, shooting you one last glance as you move to observe a few clocks hanging on the wall.

Spencer doesn’t reach for your hand again when he comes back.

…

The house is quiet when you arrive back home, hours later. Spencer sets his bag down by the door, and yours goes next to his to be dealt with later.

Exhaustion from the case is heavy in your limbs; the long flight and the sleepless nights are seeping into your bones, but Spencer seems perfectly intent upon kissing it better. You rest your forehead on his chest, exhaling softly, contentedly, as he presses kiss after kiss into your hair. He gently rests his hands on your waist and pushes you against the door– not as an act of dominance, like if someone were viewing you two from afar might assume, but one of simple convenience.

His hand reaches up to tilt your chin to the position he wants. Before leaning in to your neck, he pauses. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to go to bed?” he asks. “You didn't sleep last night.” You shake your head, giving his cheek a small peck of your own.

“It’s one of those tireds where I can’t even think about sleep ever again.” 

A small smile grows on his face.

“I bet I can change that,” Spencer offers, knuckles skimming over your waist. You smile and let him tug you upstairs to your room and guide your hips to sit on the bed. His hand cups the side of your jaw, as always, lips moving to press against yours in a soft, affectionate display of his adoration. His other hand moves to your waist, squeezing, and you shiver a little in response, making him hum gently. 

His hands go underneath the hem of your top. “Okay?” he asks. You nod, lifting your arms to help. His eyes take their time tracing over you, but never in a way that couldn't be defined as sweet. His hand leaves your cheek and goes to the bedside table, sliding open the drawer. It draws toward the front left corner, as it always does, when it pauses. He turns to look at you, hesitating.

You, whose legs are now pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them. You stare at the yellow light of the lamp you and Spencer picked out months ago reflecting against those countless little squares of foil. 

Your lips are drawn inwards, between your teeth, unable to help your mind from racing to other realities, ones where every detail is the very same, except Spencer chose not to open that drawer tonight. 

…

Spencer explained the basis of quantum immortality to you a long time ago, in the early stages of your relationship, at a time so late in the night where a regular person would never be able to form coherent thoughts, let alone thoughts like these.

You were slumped over the kitchen island, peering at him as he wandered around, silently marveling at the preciousness of your boyfriend the world seemed to take for granted as he tried to get you to understand how cool this concept was.

“There’s also an interpretation of quantum mechanics proposed by a physicist named Hugh Everett which involves a ‘many worlds’ concept: essentially, it suggests that every possible outcome of an event creates its own branch of reality, meaning an infinite number of parallel worlds exist, each containing a version of events where everything that can happen, does happen,” he starts, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. “So quantum immortality is rooted in the concept that when we die in one timeline, we essentially just move on to the next one where every detail is the same except… well, you don’t die.”

He went on to emphatically talk about some guy’s cat in a box, but how this time, in a thought experiment that demonstrates this theory of immortality, you’re the cat.

You had pretty much lost him when he got to that part.

…

You blink, shoving the memory from your mind. 

“You’re staring,” you point out quietly.

“You’re pretty,” Spencer responds. He sits next to you on the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You watch as his other hand fiddles with the condom he grabbed, running his thumb over the edges of the wrapper. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “Did I do something?” You shake your head softly. 

“Mm-mm.”

“Really? Because we’ve been sitting in silence and you haven’t stopped staring at the condom in my hand for the past two minutes.”

You exhale quietly, internally screaming at yourself to just spit it out.

It’s never been easy, being an agent dating an agent. Sure, agreements have been made to not profile each other, but with so many years of experience, small observations and connections about your partner’s nature are an automatic practice. You know that Spencer takes 3 sugars in his coffee just as well as you know he says your name more frequently and shortens his sentences when scared, almost like he tries to instead convey the appearance he’s mad.

You also know very well that you and Spencer have both been consciously avoiding this conversation like the plague, especially since his homecoming. 

You gnaw at your lip, trying to think of something to say, but your mind can only come up with freaky images of cats that are simultaneously alive and dead until observed.

“`M sorry, I was just thinking. Lost in my mind.”

“Thinking about what?”

Relationships that are simultaneously kept and broken until a certain conversation is had.

“Um. Quantum immortality. Who’s that guy? Hugh Jackman?”

Spencer straightens, eyebrows raising a little. “Hugh Everett,” he supplies. His tone is gentle, coaxing. “You’ve been thinking about that? I told you about him months ago.”

He stands as you quietly think of a response, grabbing a hoodie from the closet to tug over your bare torso, letting his hand gently cradle the back of your head after doing so.

“Yeah. I did a little more reading on it. It’s kind of a nice thought I keep going back to. Obviously really, really scary when you think about it for too long. But nice in the sense that there’s probably a version of us out there somewhere where…” you trail off, suddenly extremely aware of the weight of your words. 

He glances down to the condom he left on the comforter.

The thick silence that follows feels like it stretches across a thousand timelines, each one probably also filled with countless what-ifs and unspoken words and really bad communication, and at the very root of all of it, fear. That deep, gaping hole in both of your souls.

When Spencer finally looks at you, his eyes are so deep it takes your breath away. So deep that it jars you into just saying it.

“Spencer,” you begin, voice so quiet. “Do you still want kids?”

You find yourself shooting up a silent prayer to whoever is out there looking out for you– God or Isaac Newton or Hugh Everett or Jason Gideon: 

Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you continue– a habit probably picked up from the person standing right in front of you. “I just feel like there was a time where we were almost talking about it, but then it… went away.”

He reaches out to gently take the condom you were now fiddling with and sets it back in the drawer, his hand resting on the edge of the table as if grounding himself. His face is soft, almost glowing in the dim yellow light.

“I know,” he starts, voice crackling at the edges.

You stay dead silent.

“I didn’t mean for it to go away,” Spencer says, the crack in his voice causing you to glance up and see his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod, shakily, though the perpetual ache in your stomach is sharper now, more like it’s a knife stabbing you through the gut.

“I get it,” you say, even though part of you doesn’t want to. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You can’t even bring yourself to think of the implications of what he just said– all you know is that there is something fundamentally different between you and Spencer that wasn’t there before.

“It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. You know I do. But I can’t. Not now.”

You reach out your hand for him to take.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “It’s okay. Really. We don’t have to talk about it any more.”

His lips press into a thin line, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Clearly. It wasn’t a statement said to be believed. There was nothing okay, at all, but this isn’t a fight- there’s nothing to fight about. There's just a quiet understanding. He nods, finally, and steps back. “We should get some sleep,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.

You watch as he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, still in his work clothes, leaving just enough space for you beside him. After a moment you curl up next to him because, despite everything, doing the alternative would be so much worse.

Spencer's arms wrap around you, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, and you close your eyes and let the silence settle over you both, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. Something you would have given anything to have not so long ago.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I can't stop thinking about the batboys in a relationship and their significant other doing that trend where you call your boyfriend your husband. Like just randomly mid conversation they'd be like "my husband". I wonder how the batboys would feel about that.

I’m currently in mourning of my snakebites (they might be healed up after I took them out for one fucking day, sounds dramatic I know but I genuinely can’t get them back in) so rip to them I guess haha(laughing but crying real tears 🥲)

Dick

He acts like he knew you’d would call him husband one day but on the inside he was trying not to explode with how badly that word affected him.

Husband.

He didn’t think he would fit the mould for a perfect husband, yeah sure he’s great in many aspects when it comes down to it, but Dick still has a fear that he still didn’t measure up and that he’d end up letting you down sooner or later.

Yet hearing you call him your husband with confidence and pride only had him feeling as though he was falling for you all over again as his vision seemly became brighter, Gotham’s dark and miserable aesthetic had become a little more tolerable for Dick.

Within a blink of an eye he’s holding your face, his beautiful blue eyes shimmering like gemstones, and before you could say anything your face was being bombarded with rapid fire kisses and sweet nothings to accompany them.

‘You want to marry me? Awww you’re so definitely in love with me!’ - Dick would say teasingly.

‘Dick we’ve been dating for a while now-‘

‘Shhhh, let’s enjoy this moment sweetheart.’ Dick would cut you off as he holds you closer to his chest, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead as he felt a warm and welcoming feeling within his chest as he could only imagine the day where you got to obviously call each other mrs/mr Grayson or spouse.

It made dick impatient for the future, but he knew he couldn’t rush perfection.

Jason

Smug prick.

That’s all I’m going to say is that the moment you call him your husband, he’s got a smirk upon his face but his eyes are soft and filled with unspoken love and affection.

He genuinely didn’t think he’d ever get to a point where he would have someone to call him own, to call his home and have something that was his and wouldn’t run away when he comes back from patrol bloody and bruised.

He didn’t think a domestic life was for him but with you, there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t doing something domestic like folding clothes, or doing the dishes together; it was moments where Jason is proven wrong that makes him feel more compelled to think towards the future, or more specifically a future with you where he’d one day stop being a vigilante for good and settle down.

So hearing you call him your husband has this man on cloud nine and a hell of a lot happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. Expect to be hugged tightly from behind with his faces buried deep into your neck as he just breaths you in and reminds himself that this was all real, that this wasn’t some fantasy dream he’ll wake up from; Jason will be reminded that this is his life and it’s a hell of a lot better with you in it that was for certain.

Damian

Doesn’t outwardly show his reaction but his actions afterwards will definitely show what really thinks.

He’s doing more domestic tasks with and for you without hesitation, treating you to lovely outings with Titus and Ace within the park where he’s holding you from behind and smiling at you when your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

With Damian he doesn’t verbally say he how he felt about being called your husband, he just acts like he is your husband by spoiling you rotten with gifts and quality time with him, for he soon came to realise that his time with you was few and far between for his own liking.

He does everything he can in his power to prove that he would be a reliable husband one day, he even does chores that you put on yourself in hopes that eases the long, long list of things to do you’ve already given yourself. He doesn’t like it when you’re stressed and can’t do everything within an unrealistic timeframe that you’ve set for yourself.

However there are still some things that Damian keeps up his sleeves as he’s not found of showing all of his little tricks when there’s room for him to surprise you later on down the line. He acts like your husband because he will become your husband in the distant future, one that’ll be safer than the times you are both were living in now; he just won’t tell you but he will give you hints in hopes you’d able to see them beforehand.

Tim

He stops.

Literally.

Like he has completely stopped what he’s doing and tries to piece together whether or not he did in fact heard what you had just said.

So he waits for you in hopes that you’d say it again and when you do, he’s beaming, he’s smiling as wide as he possibly can.

So once he’s done being frozen to the spot, acting as though he’s just completely shut down from the inside, his laptop would have multiple tabs open with stuff such as;

‘How to be a good husband (with pictures)’

‘Be a better husband by avoiding these 21 common mistakes.’

‘15 small ways to be a better husband, from a marriage therapist.’

And ‘25 qualities of a good husband’

He wasn’t playing when it comes to preparing in being a husband that you can be proud of and gush about to your friends, not only that but also becoming that cliche couple that might as well still be in their honeymoon phase. He just wants to be ready and prepared when the day does become reality and he might as well have folders upon folders of advice that he had stored away for future reference.

It didn’t matter whether or not you meant it when you called him your husband because Tim was more than ready to learn how to be one for the distant future, for being married to you would be a daydream for sweet Tim and he wanted your marriage to be a long and happy one.

[mameillieureennemie]

author's note: an idea sprung up in my head where vi and reader are co-workers who hate each other but ACTUALLY—

summary: vi's been a constant pain in your ass for ages; a co-worker who lives to irritate you mercilessly. until things come to a head and a secret is unraveled.

cw: modern day, co-workers, office au, vi x f!reader

"I fucking hate you."

"Oh, that hurts my heart, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Princess?"

Your pen nearly snaps in half due to the death grip you have it in. You're absolutely furious; your rage is a burning force bubbling away at the pit of your stomach. It's hot enough to have your heart racing, thundering loudly in your chest as your blood roars in your ears.

"I swear to god, Violet," you hiss dangerously, your eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Call me that one more time, and I'll strangle you with my bare hands."

Vi raises a brow, frustratingly unaffected. "Promise?" She says, lips curving into a mocking smile, and oh, your vision goes red for a second.

Your mind drifts to all the horrible things you could do to Vi. In graphic detail. And that seems to calm you down, which should be concerning. But you can't afford to get into an all-out fight with her, in the middle of a work day, while your co-workers mill about.

Knowing them, they're just waiting for this to happen. And you can't afford to give them that satisfaction, so you take a deep breath, attempting to cool your system down.

Then you hand over the documents to Vi, emotionless, as you say, "Deal with this."

Vi, noticing that you've tapped out from your usual brawl, eyes you for a second before replying, "Sure thing."

With that, you turn to walk away so you can leave this space. But before you can even make it to the door, Vi's opening her big mouth to say:

"Princess."

It's hard for you not to lose your mind after that.

"Is this going to be a common occurrence?" Mel asks, already tired as she looks between the two of you. "I mean, we already had the fiasco a week ago where you two were yelling at each other in the break room—"

"She started it," you interrupt with a mumble, shying away when Mel aims a warning look your way.

"I don't care who stared it," Mel retorts before leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh. "I just expect more from my employees. I expect harmonious working relationships, not arguments that turn into screaming matches. If this happens again, there's going to be serious consequences. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ms Medarda." You and Vi grumble in unison, and you're soon walking out of her office. You immediately start towards your desk, wanting to get far from Vi because your anger has yet to subside. It wasn't your fault that this happened; all Vi had to do was take the documents you handed her, but no, she had to turn it into something else.

And now Mel's got her eye on you, which is the last thing you need and—

"Hey."

That's Vi's voice, calling out to you, and the last thing you want to hear. So you keep striding, hurrying your pace to keep the space between you two. But Vi's fast; she's closing the distance and wrapping a big hand around your arm.

The touch is enough to spike your annoyance a decent amount.

You rip your arm out of her grip, baring teeth as you grit out, "What?"

Vi raises both hands up to show she means no harm. Then she's stuffing them into her pockets, sighing before she says, "Look, I'm sorry."

That throws you through a loop.

"...What?" You ask again, only less hostile and more confused.

"I'm sorry," Vi repeats easily. "I...didn't mean to rile you up so much. It's just..." She struggles for a second. "It's like when you pull on a girl's pigtails because she's cute and annoying the fuck out of her makes her talk to you?"

That throws you through another loop.

You blink a few times, trying to compute what she just said before you go, "You're fucking with me."

Vi huffs a laugh. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you argue. "Because you can't be telling me that the reason you've been antagonising me is because you think I'm cute."

Vi shrugs, giving a lazy smile. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

You stare at her for a moment, a rush of emotions going through you. Then all you're feeling is a mixture of frustration and amusement.

"What are you? 8?" You retort, unable to think of anything else because so much has been given to you at once. The biggest being that Vi's just kind of admitted to having a crush on you and has been using preschool antics to catch your attention. Regardless of that attention being full-on rage which could have resulted in murder.

"Give me some credit," Vi replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm, at least, 10."

That draws a chuckle from you, soft and short, but a chuckle nonetheless. And Vi smiles wide because she's heard it, and she does have a nice smile, you notice.

There're many things you want to say, some of them not so kind while some more curious. But something warm flutters in your chest, giving life to a feeling that you haven't felt in a long, long time.

"...You're stupid," is that you finally settle on, and Vi laughs loudly at that. She closes the space between you two a little further, tentatively grinning.

"So I've been told," she replies before nodding towards the elevators. "So do you maybe wanna grab lunch with me or something?"

You hold Vi's gaze for a second, purse your lips before giving a small smile.

"No," you say, walking backward to maintain your gaze with Vi. "I'm busy."

"Tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"The next day?"

"Nah."

You and Vi are beaming at each other now, the space between you as wide as a chasm.

"What do I gotta do?" Vi asks, eager, and you laugh.

"Go a week without pissing me off, then you can take me out."

Vi's gaze turns determined, the look sending a slight shiver down your spine.

"Deal."

[skipper1331]

I love you (?) // Alexia Putellas

Love

L-O-V-E

A word with a lot and heavy meaning. It wasn't something you just said randomly every day - maybe some people did, but not Alexia. Love meant a lot to her. She came from a well-educated household where love and solidarity were a priority. Her family meant the world to her, she loved her family.

Football meant a lot to her too, she loved football and the friends she had made through it.

Alexia was known to be stern, someone of few words and someone who chose her words carefully. She’s a known person - it came with the business. So she certainly didn't say the words "I love you" carelessly or to everyone.

The only two people who heard it regularly were her mother and sister. All the other people just knew by her actions and caring nature.

And then there was you.

You had crept into her heart with your shy smiles, big grin and addicting laugh.

She wasn’t sure at first if she should ask you out - it took a lot of convincing (thanks to Mapi) to do so.

It surprised her when you agreed but it was obvious to anyone in the Barcelona squad - she was head over heels for you while you also were totally smitten for the captain.

Fast forward, 6 months into your relationship the words "I love you" lingered in the back of Alexia‘s mind. She hadn‘t said those words yet, neither had you.

You knew Alexia was careful and shy, sometimes even scared - it took awhile to break her walls down, so you respected her pace. The feelings also new for you.

The pace was perfect for both of you, nothing rushed or hasty.

But as the days went by, Alexia‘s feelings grew stronger and stronger. At night she thought she‘d explode at some point because she didn’t express herself to anyone.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, all day, everyday.

She wanted to say them.

She really did.

But it was a big step in your relationship. Would you say it back? Did you even feel the same way? What if not?

You meant a lot to her, she didn’t want to ruin anything - everything she had with you was so so special and precious, innocent even.

At the perfect moments, she remained silent, as she had so many times before. It wasn't just an "I love you" it was so much more. Love didn't even come close to what she felt yet it was the closest thing to describe what she felt when she was with you. It was weird.

It was chaotic in her head, her thoughts not organized or structured. It annoyed her. Order was very important to her, especially in her head - after all, that and her talent had made her the best football player in the world. So she didn't like the fact that there was now a lot of chaos.

Normally, she would have talked to you about it, but since it involved you, she couldn't do that.

A different solution had to be found as quickly as possible.

In the next few days, she asked herself what to do. Who could she confide in?

1. you

2. Mami (+ Alba)

3. Alba (+Mami)

4. Mapi

That was the list of people she could always talk to, even if it was often difficult for her - like now.

And that‘s when it hit her.

If she could tell her mother, sister and best friend that she loved you, she could tell you too.

Step by step.

telling her mother

Alexia stood in the kitchen with her mother, preparing dinner while Alba and you set the table. Ale‘s eyes lingered on you, a love sick smile plastered on her face, eyes screaming hearts. She loved the bond you had with her sister. Alba often joked that you were also her sister, which in the future you definitely would be as her sister in law.

The older Putellas watched the scene in front of her, her heart bursting at every laugh she heard. You fit in perfectly with her family - everything was so harmonious, loving and caring, almost too perfect to be true - the most important people united.

Deep breaths, "I love her" she admitted to her mother. It was the first time ever she said that out loud. Her cheeks were bright red.

She didn’t look at her mother, neither at you because suddenly the vegetables in her hands were very interesting.

"Oh, I know" Eli chuckled, the footballer dropping the knife and turning towards her mother.

"You know?"

"I can see it in your eyes"

her sister

The Putellas sisters sat in their local coffee shop for their weekly catch up. Since their teenage years they had the tradition to at least sit together for a coffee once a week. Sometimes it was just for 5 minutes, sometimes for hours, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes in the evening, depending on the schedule.

"Ale, are you listening?" Alba waved her hand in front of her sisters face.

"Que? Lo siento, what did you say?" she stated, her mind had drifted back to you.

Alexia knew you were waiting in her apartment, probably still on the couch where she had left you with a kiss. Or maybe you were in the kitchen? Getting a snack? Or in bedroom reading a book?

I love you

"Thinking about your girlfriend, hm?" the younger Putellas raised a brow while taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sí, lo siento. Please tell me again what you were saying?"

Alba started once again but quickly realized that her sisters mind was somewhere else.

"Come on, Alexia. What‘s going on?" this time Alba flicked the footballers nose to get her attention, "absent again" she explained when the midfielder grumbled confused at her little sister.

"What‘s on your mind?"

"I love her"

"okay…?"

Alexia furrowed her brows, "I love her" repeating her words.

"okay…? I know" Alba repeated her words as well, questioning what the problem was.

"You know too?"

"hermana, you talk about her all the time, like non-stop" she laughed, "it‘s quite obvious that you love her"

telling Mapi

Just a few hours ago, the team had won the champions league trophy - it felt euphoric, everybody high on the adrenaline and joy.

Mapi and Ale watched Ingrid and you dancing on the dance floor, medals around your necks, singing to the song that‘s blasting through the club.

"I‘ve never seen you so happy" Mapi stated as Alexia took a sip of her drink, her own medal still around her neck.

"I love her"

"Oh, I know"

"why does everyone know this?" Alexia furrowed her brows, a frown displayed on her features.

Mapi laughed at her friend, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Ale, seriously? You look at her like she hung the moon. You talk about her all the time. You follow her around like a lost puppy. You sulk the whole day when she‘s not there. You beam from ear to ear when she‘s holding your hand. You-"

Alexia cut her off with a hand covering her mouth, "I get it!" her cheeks crimson red as she shied away from the defender as soon as she had stopped talking.

"You‘re the same way with her, like I’m with Ingrid. We‘re both lucky to have such sweethearts in our life. So, don‘t fuck it up"

"Don’t mess up either" Alexia laughed. Mapi was absolutely right: The captain was head over heels for you, totally smitten and unconditionally in love with you. She had never been so happy before - with you, she felt lightheaded and free, something that was rare in the life of a professional athlete.

She loved you.

And was so thankful to have you in her life - being able to call you hers, hers only.

"I wouldn’t dream of it" Mapi agreed, feeling the exact same about Ingrid, raising her drink.

"Salud"

telling you

"Amor!" Alexia belly laughed, running after you as had thrown multiple paper balls at her to get her attention, her attention too focused on the tv. You ran around her apartment, the girl close behind, almost catching you in the kitchen.

Though, she did caught you in the bedroom, where she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle and tackled you onto the bed.

"Amor, that wasn‘t very nice of you" she stated firmly yet you could see the smile she was trying to hide.

"I was only concerned about your well-being!" you defended yourself, trying to wiggle out out of Alexia’s grasp which Alexia denied as she straddled your waist, pinning your arms down. "I was afraid that the wrinkle on between your brows would stay permanent if you had kept that look on your face any longer" you stated innocently - the same expression plastering her face once again, causing you to laugh.

"Laughing at me, hm, amor" her fingers slid along your arms before they suddenly started to tickle you.

The room was filled with laughter, yours (which was music for Alexia‘s ears) and her own.

"I give up! I give up!"

"You shouldn’t mess with me" the midfielder giggled.

Silence followed, both of you staring in each others eyes with so much love and adoration.

Slowly, Alexia leaned forward, her hands cupping your cheeks while your hands rested on Alexia’s thighs as you met in the middle.

Both of your minds went blank as you kissed one another, hearts racing, skin tingling, cheeks burning.

Pulling back, Ale still had her eyes closed, taking in and appreciating the moment.

"I love you"

it was whispered yet loud and clear.

The midfielder looked at you - the way your face lit up, smile wider than she‘d ever seen before, eyes full of happiness looking at her.

"I love you too"

The older girl matched your expression, hardly hiding her emotions.

"Say it again, por favor"

You happily did, "I love you, Alexia."

Sighing contently, she leaned her forehead against yours, "again, por favor" and that‘s what you did, your girlfriend repeating your words each time.

Because she really did love you.

Ps. She had practiced it more often than she liked to admit in front of the mirror.

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you"

"I love you“

Because practice makes the best, right?

[jov1ii]

Mine, All Mine

♡⃕.pairing: Husband!Salesman x Wife!Reader ♡⃕.synopsis: life with your husband. ♡⃕.word count: 1.4k+ ♡⃕.content warning: a little suggestive if you squint, arranged marriage.

The corner of his lips twitched as a hint of a smirk danced upon his lips. He had been watching you since the onset of morning. There was just something so…so captivating about the way you moved, the subtle grace of your mannerisms.

He supposed, it was the simple things that enticed him the most.

Tearing his gaze away, he rose and crossed the room to the mahogany desk; a silent cue for you to do the same.

"I suppose we shall get to know each other better?" You propose.

He watched silently as you stood and approached the desk. This arrangement, it was strange, unconventional. And yet, he couldn’t quite find it in himself to abhor the idea of spending every day, every hour in your company.

"Oh yeah? Is that what you want?" He was somewhat bemused by your suggestion.

You were hardly the type inclined toward the idea of matrimony, and neither was he. But here you were, his wife. His wife—the term sounded foreign upon his tongue.

He regarded you with a stoic eye, head canted slightly to the side. He was trying to figure you out, to understand the machinations of your mind. Such a task was seemingly monumental, no doubt, by the way of your closed off demeanor, a quiet, stoic disposition. But that was all the more reason he wished to figure you out.

You were... intriguing.

Days had come and gone since their first conversation.

He had, for the most part, settled into this married life quite well.

There was something soothing, peaceful, about the quiet domesticity of it all. Both you and him became acutely aware of each other's presence.

They say familiarity bred contempt, but for you and him, it bred something much different.

Every now and then, he would recall the subtle slope of your nose, the elegant dip of your shoulders, the way the sunlight pooled upon your skin… It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to ravish you there and then.

He had always thought of himself as an individual who could not possess emotions such but it wasn’t just carnal desire that he felt, rather, there was a certain depth to this feeling. A feeling he wasn’t quite able to place.

He tried to push away those thoughts as best as he could, but in the hours at night when he laid in bed, with you so close, it became harder to shut you out.

He laid awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep and plagued with the memory of your smile, the way you laughed, the scent of your hair- Wait.

"Can't sleep?" You ask, looking back at him.

The abrupt voice broke him from his trance. And then he groaned for the second time that night. He remained motionless for a few moments and then he rolls over, only to find you staring back at him from the other side of the bed.

”Clearly, neither can you…” He said, raking a hand through his rumpled hair which earned a chuckle from you.

The corner of his lips quirked into a smirk as the sound of your laughter reached his ears. He propped himself up on one elbow, studying you in the dim light. There was something rather enthralling about seeing you like this, all relaxed and vulnerable in the quiet night.

“I’d ask why you can’t sleep, but I think I already know the answer,” He teased.

"Oh yeah? What do you think is the cause?" You ask, smiling softly.

“You don’t seem to have much trouble sleeping during the day, when the sun is out. But come night time, suddenly there’s a change." He responded without a bit of hesitation. He wasn’t one to sugarcoat after all.

“You’re nervous about this new... condition, and about the future, and, if I’m not mistaken…a little scared of me,” He said, glancing back at you.

His words earned a huff from you. "Scared of you?"

His smirk widens into a sly smile as he props himself up on an elbow. He meets your gaze, regarding you with a keen eye.

“You are,” He states bluntly, reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I can see that little shiver that goes through your spine every time I touch you. That little bit of hesitation in your movements whenever I’m around.”

Oh.

When he suggested leaving the house “to get some air” on a Friday evening, you didn’t think much of it.

After all, for the first few weeks after marriage, he had spent his days working and evenings on the armchair by the fire. However, the last thing you had expected was to be led out the door and into his black car.

A date—was, and is, the furthest thing you had expected from a reserved man like your husband.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was nervous. A man as stoic and reserved as he, nervous for a date? Who would’ve thought. He had never been the romantic sort, too occupied in work and realistic for the idea of romance.

You tried to catch a glimpse of his expression from the passenger seat, but he was avoiding your gaze at all costs. Not a word was spoken, only the steady hum of the engine was heard as the scenery passed by.

Eventually, he pulled into a secluded spot overlooking a shimmering lake. A modest family-run restaurant on the edge of town.

He gets out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door for you after. And as you get out of the car, you are quick to glance around and take in your surroundings. Expensive.

The restaurant looked modest and homey, quaint even. You watch as he speaks a word to the waiter who leads the two of you to a secluded table.

He gestures to the table and pulls out your chair for you.

A soft “thank you” escapes your lips in response as you sink into the seat, before he takes his own seat across from you. He reaches for the wine list, scanning it before ordering a bottle of red.

"Do you plan on staying this quiet, or...?" You ask, biting back a teasing smile.

So she hasn't quite lost her bite, then. He leans back in the chair and crosses one leg over the other, a sign of feigned aloofness. "Perhaps I'll save my tongue for our food." He said.

"Boring." You comment, watching as the waiter approached with a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses.

You took the glass, now filled with wine and brought it towards your lips, glancing at him.

"Boring, eh?" He asks. "Maybe I should order a second round of drinks just to shut you up," he retorts with a smirk.

"You look a tad too cocky for my liking."

....

It did not take long before the drinks started to get you. You were laughing louder, talking more freely, and your cheeks had taken on a rosy flush. It would almost be cute, were it not so annoying- or so he liked to believe.

He sets the glass down on the table and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Perhaps one drink too many.

He watched you from across the table, the smile never leaving your lips, the glint in your eyes all the more noticeable when your guard was down like this.

"Don't look at me like that." You whispered, swirling the liquid in the glass, your voice slurred.

"And how exactly am I looking at you?" He asked in a low voice, leaning forward ever so slightly.

"Like you want to rip my dress right here, right now." You said, smirking.

He blinked, that little remark sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. He tried his damned best not to react, but the words had an immediate effect on him.

"Don’t be ridiculous." He mumbled. But your words were doing all kinds of things him, in all the right places.

And he could only take so much.

And just like that, one last drink, a ride home, a few fumbled steps in the doorway and a heated night later, when you woke up the next morning, you think all of it had been a dream- the dinner date, the alcohol, the lust-filled return home... But the sight of a slender arm curled around your hip said otherwise.

You can't help it, a smile starts to form on your own face. If this was how married life was supposed to be, then you were more than ready to welcome it with open arms.

[tepkunset]

Until Dawn makes me uncomfortable...

...Not in a "this is good horror" way. In a "who gave you the fucking right to ruin our spiritual legends" way.

Some context, first: I am a Mi'kmaw person, and my people are among the Algonquians who have traditional legendary stories about ice cannibals. My people call them J*nuaq (singular: J*nu) also often anglicized as Ch*nook (singular: Ch*noo), but they are most commonly known under the Ojibwe name, W*ndigoag (singular: W*ndigo). Now that I've shared those names, I will for the rest of this post simply refer to them as "ice cannibals" out of respect for those who practice the avoidance of referring to them by name, which some people do and some don't.

Obviously there are variations among nations in how these beings are depicted, but I can guarantee you that this thing from Until Dawn...

...Is not very accurate. It may not be as bad as the whole antlers thing commonly tacked on by white horror writers, but ice cannibals are not stereotypical zombies either, or whatever the hell this thing is.

The ice cannibal I am personally familiar with is described as a giant, emaciated person with an icy heart and incredible Power. They used to be one of the People, but were transformed through either cannibalism or through an evil spirit. Now they are monstrous beings who kill and eat people.

But let's for a second pretend that Until Dawn is 100% accurate in its depiction of these ice cannibals. That doesn't change the fact that the writers, as white people, have no fucking right to even so much as touch these spirits in their story. Algonquian peoples have made it clear time and again that these beings are not for outsiders to fictionalize. They are not your cryptid. They are not your aesthetic. They are not anything that is yours.

And writer Larry Fessenden? He's a repeat offender. This motherfucker is obsessed with ice cannibals. He wrote the 2001 film W*ndigo. He wrote the racist 2008 Fear Itself episode "Skin and Bones" featuring them again. And his biggest claim to fame is Until Dawn, which of course, he pulls out the same shit a third time.

On top of all this, the whole "totem" collection theme in the game is more appropriative bullshit and a classic case of the Tipis and Totem Poles trope. Supposedly the mountain the story takes place on is a sacred place to the Cree in the lore of the game. And yet it's full of Pacific Northwest Indigenous totem-like things?

So anyway. I really don't care how accurate or inaccurate the upcoming film adaptation of Until Dawn is. I don't want anything to do with it, and I personally hope it flops.

[urlocal-limitesshbic]

*.˗ˏˋ Use DEILD to enter the void in secondsˎ˗.*

~featuring a lucid dreamer’s unintended success story I found on YouTube~

Incoming Topics..

*PART 1 <RECAP: What is Deild? >*

*PART 2 < The success story >*

*PART 3 < How to use DEILD for the Void >*

*PART I < What is the DEILD method? > *

If you haven’t read my original post on DEILD I have linked it down below towards the end of this one. I recommend checking it out for an in depth tutorial on the method, but I’ll give a quick explanation here as well-

To put it simply, it is a technique that is traditionally used to get fast and easy lucid dreams. Upon waking you lie still and keep your eyes closed, tricking your body into thinking that you never woke up and then within seconds the dream reforms except now you’re aware in it! You can also create a new dream or you might enter a false awakening which becomes a lucid dream. This method works SO QUICKLY it’s seriously like a LD method shortcut!

I’ve heard of lucid dreamers talking about the void before but after watching a YouTubers video about a lucid dream he had, I realized he actually used the DEILD technique to go straight to the void in SECONDS, unintentionally! Which is something I hadn’t thought about doing before-merging the lucid dream technique WITH 👏🏼 THE VOID 👏🏼 TECHNIQUES!! 👏🏼 So for those of you attempting to enter the void state from a lucid dream, this can be used as a SHORTCUT on top of a SHORTCUT! 🙌🏼 Yes ma’ammmm y’all seriously need to come try this one out because when I say SECONDS I’m talking secondsss-no more waiting 20 minutes for your left brain to turn off, no more long breath work exercises or reality checks or hours of lying still, affirming, no more battling with creating portals-the void can be EFFORTLESS and induced in under a minute.

*PART 2 < The lucid dreamer’s success story> *

There’s this lucid dreamer on YouTube called TIGER123 who posts about lucid dreaming techniques and his own lucid dream experiences- he actually has a video tutorial on DEILD as well (which is linked in my OG DEILD post)

So, I was at work looking for something to watch and saw he posted a new video about a lucid dream he had recently. Well, I can tell you wasn’t expecting him to literally open the video by talking about how he woke up from a regular dream, realized it was the perfect opportunity to perform DEILD and get lucid, and then. AS HE’S PERFORMING DEILD. He enters the void! Just like that. While he was in the void he visualized the dream scene he wanted to be in and he said he was there within 10 seconds. Aka he instantly manifested entering the exact lucid dream he wanted to be in, from the void state.

This is someone who doesn’t believe in shifting or astral projection, wasn’t trying to enter the void, thinks the void is just an unformed lucid dream space that can be used to form a new lucid dream, doesn’t know you can manifest from that state and yet STILL got in and STILL manifested. Since he viewed the void as a place he can form a new lucid dream thats what he did. He still manifested instantly, he just MANIFESTED going from the VS to being in a lucid dream. This should just go to show you guys how REAL the void state is, because someone who doesn’t even know about it and wasn’t trying to get in STILL did it. (SO CAN YOU btw)

The void isn’t a concept created on tumblr. Lucid dreamers have experienced it for years, meditators experience it, yogis, followers of Neville Goddard and multiple religious practices do too; It’s just called by different names and defined differently, but all the experiences describe the same thing. So if tumblr success stories aren’t trustworthy enough to you, or motivating enough-expand your research and find hundreds of stories similar to this one-lucid dreamers thinking it’s just an unformed dream and yogis thinking it’s just a really relaxing deep meditative state etc…

*PART 3< How To Use DEILD to enter the VS> *

I linked the video at the bottom, he doesn’t really talk about the void much or deild because the video is about the actual contents of the dream he had, but the part he does talk about it is right at the beginning, the first 30 seconds or so, if you’re curious in checking it out but this is pretty much what he said about it, written out-

“First I was in a space dream and then I woke up and kind of realized I had just woken up from a dream and was able to stay still and kind of reenter into it and fall back asleep and I ended up in the void. You know that like complete blackness where it’s really easy to reform the dream and since I was there I figured I would just try to go to the beach because when I’m in this void state I can really go anywhere I want. I just reformed the beach and I ended up on the exact beach I was imagining in like 10 seconds.”

So boom. Thats’s it thats ALL. That simple. So here’s the exact steps to do if you want to enter the void through DEILD too and be the next success story:

Before bed: affirm “I will remember to stay still upon awakening. I will effortlessly enter the void using DEILD” or some variation of this (optional)

Visualize yourself waking up, staying still, and entering the void state (optional)

Go to sleep, with the calm certainty that this will work.

Wake up. Keep your eyes closed and lie still

You can keep a blank mind and wait, trusting that your subconscious will induce the void automatically, since you already set the intention the night before

5a. Or right after waking, with your eyes closed you can begin affirming that you are pure consciousnes and imagine yourself already in the void, or imagine yourself sinking gently down into the void state until you are truly there. This method is so effective you should be in the state within a minute or less.

And remember, the void state can’t be forced, just like sleep can’t be forced. All you can do is create the right conditions for it to occur naturally. It’s okay if you don’t get it right away. Focus on trust, not control. Avoid over analyzing whether it’s working while you’re performing the technique, just allow it to flow and happen. You saw he just literally lied still waiting for the dream to form and then he was in. It’s that effortless. Give it a go and report back in the comments 🫶🏼 Happy enteringgg

[4linos]

they call you clingy.

ot8 x fem!reader

warning: really angsty, feeling insecure/unworthy, no happy endings. (sorry)

wc: 8708

bang chan

You and Chan had been together for a while, and things were generally great between you two. You had your own lives, your own routines, but there was always a sense of closeness between you that you both cherished. Lately, though, you’d found yourself tagging along with him more often, especially when he had dinner plans with the members.

At first, he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed having you around, and the other members seemed to appreciate it too. Some of their girlfriends were there as well, so it felt natural, like a group gathering. But after a while, you started coming along more frequently, not wanting to spend evenings apart. You thought it was a way to spend more time with him, but you could tell it was starting to weigh on Chan, though you weren’t sure why.

Chan said nothing at first, but you could tell he became quieter and more distant throughout these dinners. He looked at his phone more frequently, and his smile seemed forced when you spoke with him or the others. Still, you tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was just your imagination. You weren't doing anything wrong by wanting to be with him, right? You had every right to join him on nights when he was with the other members. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

One evening, as you all gathered for a casual dinner at a restaurant, the atmosphere was different. You were laughing, eating, and talking with some of the other girls when you realized Chan was particularly quiet. He was nibbling at his food and not really participating in the conversation. You leaned over to him, laying your hand on his arm, attempting to draw him into the moment.

"Chan, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle and anxious.

He shuddered slightly at the contact and gave you a fake smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," he said, but the tiredness in his voice was clear. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did. It felt like he was pushing away from you just a little. Your stomach twisted as you tried to ignore the unease creeping in. Then, the conversation shifted. As the dinner continued, someone brought up how often you came along with Chan to these meals. You didn’t think much of it at first, but you could feel his discomfort growing.

“Honestly, though,” Chan suddenly chimed in, his voice a little more sharp than usual, “it’s getting a bit much. She’s always tagging along. It’s like she can’t ever be away from me. It's kind of suffocating.”

The words hit you like a smack in the face. You froze, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension in the air evident. You could feel everyone's gaze on you, and your cheeks reddened with shame. You tried to shrug it off, believing it was a joke, but the expression in Chan's eyes revealed his disinterest. He was not joking. Time seemed to slow down, and you could feel the sting of his words settling deep within you. Without thinking, you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom, your chest tight and your eyes welling with tears. You locked yourself in a stall and tried to calm your pounding heart, but the words replayed in your mind over and over again. “Clingy,” “suffocating.” You felt small, insignificant, and utterly hurt.

Meanwhile, at the table, the other members exchanged glances, seemingly uneasy about what had just happened. After a minute, Hyunjin spoke up, his tone surprisingly soft. "Chan, that wasn't cool, man. Why would you say anything like that? She isn't clinging at all. She's just trying to spend time with you."

Felix nodded in line, his tone quiet yet forceful. "Yeah, we really like having her around. She makes things more fun, you know? I don't understand why you'd say something like that.”

Chan wasn't sure how to answer. He had meant it as a joke, something to relieve the stress he'd been experiencing lately, but now that he'd heard the other responses from the others, a rush of shame swept over him. He felt he'd crossed a boundary, but it wasn't until they spoke out that he recognized how serious the situation was. "I didn't mean it like that," he whispered, but his apologies seemed hollow even for him.

His thoughts was muddled by remorse, and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely embarrassed. "I think you should go talk to her," Minho said softly. "She is probably really hurt right now. You have to make it right."

Chan’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to think about how badly he’d hurt you. His usual confident self was gone, replaced by a knot of regret.

lee know

It was one of those days. The sort where everything you touched seemed to fall apart, and every corner you turned revealed another disaster ready to happen. The day began with your boss screaming at you for something you didn't even do, his anger pouring out on you as if it were your responsibility that the world was collapsing. You hardly had time to calm yourself before spilling your coffee all over your blouse at lunch. The entire day had been an upsurge of humiliating incidents, missed deadlines, and biting your tongue to resist snapping at everyone who gave you the wrong look.

You were physically and emotionally drained when you arrived home. You just wanted the day to end, to close your eyes and forget everything. However, when you walked through the door, you were welcomed by a familiar, comfortable smell.

Minho was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and humming softly to himself while making something. Your heart lifted a little because he was here, cooking for you. The simple gesture of kindness was a welcome breath of fresh air after a long day of drowning.

You stood by the door, hesitant whether to interrupt, but then he turned toward you with a gentle smile. "Hey, how was your day?"

You forced a smile, despite the weight of the day pressing on you. “It was... fine. I’m just glad to be home.”

He noticed the weariness in your eyes and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. It was the kind of comfort you needed, even if you didn’t know it until he offered it. “Relax. I’ve got dinner covered. Why don’t you just sit down and take it easy?”

You nodded, thankful for his concern, but something inside you refused to just sit back and do nothing. It felt awful to be passive while he was so busy. "Let me help," you volunteered, heading near the counter, attempting to gather yourself after a stressful day. Minho gently shook his head, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "There's no need. "Please relax, okay?" You couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. He was always so selfless and compassionate, and you didn't want to be someone who just sat by. Instead of disputing, you nodded and gave in to his desire. He was right, after all; you could use a break. “Alright. But give me something small to do.”

Minho paused for a moment to contemplate, then assigned you a tiny task. "Okay, could you please tidy up a little while I finish the soup? Just wipe down the countertops." It seemed simple enough.

You took a rag and followed his instructions while he worked on the soup. The house was peaceful, almost serene, and you hadn't felt that type of peace all day. It was good to be here with him and feel like you weren't confronting the world alone.

But in the middle of cleaning, your eyes darted to the pot of soup on the stove. It smelled incredible like something he had poured his heart into. You felt a surge of gratitude, the kind that made you want to help him, to show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

Without thinking, you decided to move the pot, to give him a little more space so he could focus on finishing everything. You gently lifted the heavy pot, but as you tried to shift it, your grip faltered. The edge of the pot slipped from your hand, and in an instant, it tilted, the boiling liquid splashing violently all over the kitchen floor and onto your leg.

You screamed out in shock, the searing heat of the soup burning into your skin, but the pain on your leg was nothing compared to the way everything seemed to shatter around you. The kitchen became chaos. The pot had fallen, splattered everywhere, and the delicious smell was suddenly replaced with the pungent scent of spilled soup. You tried to gather yourself, but the kitchen was now a disaster, and so were you on the verge of tears, overwhelmed, hurt, and defeated.

Minho turned when he heard the accident. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance in an instant. You looked up, and his eyes were filled with anger. The following words he said struck you harder than the burn on your leg. "Why are you always so clingy? I spent hours making that! "If you had just stayed out of the way for once, this could have been avoided!" His voice was harsh and slashed through the air like a razor. You stared at him, frozen in shock.

Was this actually happening?

His words felt like a punch to your chest. They were not what you expected, not from him, not when you were already dealing with the weight of the world. Your mind scrambled to make sense of it. How had it come to this? How had you gone from being the person he always tried to comfort to someone he now seemed to resent?

He stayed there, hands clenched at his sides. "God, I can't believe this," he said quietly, shaking his head. You always do this. You always get in the way. "Why can't you just relax and let me do it?"

You couldn't react because your heart was hammering painfully in your chest. You had spilled more than simply the soup. It was not only the mess. It was the sting of being accused of something you never wanted to do, like being too much. You did not want to be a burden for him. You never intended to make things more difficult, yet everything you did seemed to make things worse.

Minho sighed, looking at the mess with frustration. “Just… go to the room or something,” he snapped, turning away from you.

You stood there, unsure of what to do, feeling smaller than you ever had before. You knew he was angry, but the way he dismissed you, the way he acted like you were just an inconvenience, was something you hadn’t expected from him. He wasn’t usually like this. But right now, it felt like you had done something unforgivable. It felt like everything you had ever tried to do for him had been wrong, every gesture of kindness or help misplaced.

Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, trying to steady yourself, but your hands trembled with the weight of his words. Hot tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. The physical pain in your leg from the burns was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You had wanted to help, to make things better for him. But now, all you could do was try to tend to your own wounds both physical and emotional alone.

You pulled yourself up slowly, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling, trying to find the strength to move. Minho was still in the kitchen, silent now, cleaning up the mess you had made, but his anger still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

You left him there, retreating to your bedroom, feeling more isolated than you had in a long time. The night was quiet, but the silence between you and Minho felt louder than ever. And in that silence, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep trying to be the person he wanted you to be when everything you did seemed to push him further away.

changbin

The evening started out like any other. You and Changbin were going to go to the gym together after a long day. You were excited to spend more time with him, especially since you had been trying to join him at the gym more often recently. At first, it seemed like a fun bonding activity. You'd go to encourage him, attempt to keep up with some of the exercises, and simply enjoy being with him. Changbin had always been a bit of a lone wolf, preferring his own time to recuperate, but he'd been nice enough to let you tag along at first.

You didn’t realize that things had slowly started to change. What had initially felt like an innocent way to spend more time together had started to weigh on him. Maybe it was because you’d started following him around everywhere always just a few steps behind, trying to do what he was doing, lingering around him during his sets. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his usual space anymore. But whatever the reason, Changbin was beginning to feel the pressure, and he didn’t know how to tell you.

You had no idea how much your presence at the gym was bothering him. He wasn't trying to hurt you or make you feel bad about wanting to spend time with him, but tonight was different. He could feel his patience fading and his irritation growing the more you wanted to incorporate yourself into his routine. It was supposed to be his time to escape. He needed the gym to be his sanctuary, a place to unwind and clear his mind. But tonight, as you followed him from machine to machine, everything came to a head.

The air in the gym seemed heavier than usual. Changbin could feel his patience fraying as you followed him for what seemed like the umpteenth time. You weren't doing anything wrong, yet he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that you were constantly present. His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall; he'd been here for nearly an hour. And it wasn't that you were clingy in an obnoxious way; it was simply that you were always with him, which was enough to frustrate him.

He couldn't concentrate, couldn't clear his mind as he used to. You were always there, following his every move, asking questions about his setups, and attempting to get in the way of his routine. His thoughts were clouded, his mind no longer able to concentrate on the iron and his own movements. He couldn’t unwind. He couldn’t breathe.

When you followed him to the weights area once again, his frustration bubbled over.

“Y/N, can you just stop?” he snapped, his voice harsh and sharp, completely different from the usual warmth you were used to. His words cut through the air like a slap. “Can you just let me have this one thing? The gym isn’t supposed to be some place where you follow me around all the time. I need it to be my own. I need my space. You’re always here, and it’s... it’s too much.”

You froze, a cold shiver of confusion running through your body. Your eyes flickered from his irritated face to the ground, unsure of what to say. You had always been so excited to share things with him, and this was the last place you thought something like this would happen.

“B-Bin... I didn’t—" you started, your voice faltering, but he cut you off, his frustration spilling over.

“You’re always clinging to me, Y/N. And at first, I thought it was cute. But now? It’s just too much. The gym is supposed to be my alone time, somewhere I can relax, somewhere I can focus. But you’re here, and I can’t even do that anymore,” he said, each word feeling like a weight crashing down on you.

Your chest tightened and you found yourself unable to breathe for a little while. It felt as if the world had stopped moving around you, and all you could hear was the flow of blood in your ears. You weren't expecting to hear those words from him. Changbin had always been supportive and loving, even if he was a little protective of his space. What about now? Now it felt like he was pushing you away. And the way he avoided your gaze while he spoke, as if he couldn't stand to witness the pain he was causing, you could feel your heart breaking piece by piece.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat was too big, and the pain was too overwhelming. You weren’t clingy. You just wanted to be close to him. You didn’t realize that your presence, something you thought was innocent, had been smothering him. But hearing it from him so bluntly… it felt like a punch to the gut.

You said nothing at first. Your body was stiff, your eyes filled with unshed tears. You wanted to say something, but the words would not come out. Instead, you simply turned slowly and began to walk away. "I'll go," you said softly, your voice barely audible. Your steps were wobbly as you approached the exit. Changbin turned around, his heart sinking into his chest. It hit him, followed by the look in your eyes. Your lips quivered. He realized what he had just said. The frustration and fury had been misplaced. He didn't mean to hurt you. He wasn't trying to make you feel unwanted. But it was too late now. The damage was done.

“Y/N—wait!” he called after you, but it was no use. You didn’t even turn around. You just kept walking, your back stiff, your steps hurried.

hyunjin

(a/n: you and hyunjin aren’t a couple here, you’re childhood best friends)

The after-party had been buzzing with energy all night, full of celebration and the kind of chaotic, joyful atmosphere that followed every successful concert. It was supposed to be a moment of relief, a chance to let go of the weight of the stage and just relax with friends. You, however, couldn’t seem to shake off the knot of tension that had been growing inside you for weeks.

It hadn’t been an abrupt change, not really. Hyunjin, your best friend, had slowly started to become distant. At first, it was subtle, a shift in the way he looked at you, the way he barely seemed to notice when you were around. But now, it had become glaringly obvious, especially in moments like this, when you found yourself desperately trying to keep the connection you two had built over the years.

You’d always been there for him, supporting him through everything the highs and the lows. But lately, whenever you tried to lean on him, he pulled away. The distance between you had begun to feel insurmountable, and tonight, surrounded by the group at the after-party, it felt like the final straw.

You felt an odd, uncomfortable pull as soon as you walked inside the party. The sight of Hyunjin laughing with the rest of the group should have made you happy, but instead it made your chest tighten with anxiety. He looked... unusual. His eyes, the way they avoided yours, made it clear that something had changed between you two. You despised the sense of being on the outside, like you didn't belong anymore.

You had tried to give him his space during the last few weeks, respecting the growing distance between you. But tonight, you were determined to be present. To pretend as if everything was still fine.

After all, you were his best friend, right?

You moved over to where he was sitting, talking with Seungmin and Jeongin. When they saw you approaching, Jeongin's face lit up with that warm, welcome smile that always put you at at ease. He gave you a warm nod and motioned for you to join them, which you immediately did, thinking that the familiarity of the situation could help the uneasiness that had begun to settle over you. But once you sat down, Hyunjin's tone changed. His eyes flicked across to you for a quick, unreadable look before returning to the others. You tried not to take it personally, but it hurt. Jeongin was chatting animatedly about something, but you couldn't pay attention. All you could think about was how Hyunjin had practically turned his back on you.

After a few moments, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You leaned closer to Hyunjin, trying to keep your tone light, as if everything were normal. “Hey, Hyunjin... you good? You’ve seemed off lately.”

He looked at you, his expression suddenly sharp. “I’m fine,” he replied quickly, and there was a coldness to his voice that cut through you like ice.

You didn’t know what to say. You had always been able to talk through things before, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to acknowledge you. You tried again, your voice trembling just slightly, “I’m just checking in... I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distant.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, as if he were irritated with you asking. “You’re always around,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “I don’t need you following me everywhere. It’s annoying.”

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, the weight of his comment sinking deep into your chest. You had no idea where this was coming from. You had always been there for him, not because you needed to be, but because you cared about him. You wanted to be there. But now, suddenly, it felt like you were an inconvenience.

The room felt suffocating, the noise of the party growing distant as you tried to process what he had just said. You had always been careful not to smother him, always tried to give him space. But now he was telling you that your presence, your very existence, was too much for him.

It was too much.

The lump in your throat grew, but you weren’t going to let him see you falter. You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over, but you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that came flooding to the surface. You had tried so hard to be understanding, to be patient, but this was too much to handle.

Before you could say anything more, you snapped. “You know what, Hyunjin? I’m not following you around,” your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m only here because Felix invited me. As his date.”

The words hung in the air, sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. You could feel the sting of betrayal, the way Hyunjin had made you feel small, and the anger bubbled up inside you. The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone’s attention now focused on the exchange.

You didn’t look at Hyunjin. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned on your heel, your pulse pounding in your ears, and walked straight to Felix, who was standing nearby. He gave you a surprised glance, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, offering you a comforting presence in the midst of your emotional storm.

You didn't speak for a time, your thoughts racing from the argument, but Felix didn't press you to explain. He just let you sit there in peace, his arm resting comfortably on your shoulder. You leaned into him, attempting to center yourself and escape the overpowering pain that threatened to consume you whole. Felix did not deserve to bear the burden of your wounded heart, but in that time, his comfort was the only thing that made sense.

Hyunjin's gaze stayed fixed on you as the party went on. But you refused to look his direction. He'd already made it apparent that your presence no longer mattered to him. He had driven you away with his hurtful words, and as much as it pained you to admit it, you knew deep down that it was too late to fix things.

The rest of the night was a blur. You couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about how he had made you feel so small, so insignificant. The person who had once been your best friend, who had always been there for you, was now the one who had cast you aside. And the worst part was that you didn’t even know why.

As the party wound down and everyone began to leave, you stayed close to Felix, not looking back, not wanting to face Hyunjin. You didn’t know what had changed between you two, or why he had suddenly decided that your friendship wasn’t worth his time. All you knew was that the person who had once been your closest confidant, the one who knew all your secrets and fears, had just torn your heart apart.

And you didn’t know how to fix it.

HAN

The evening began like any other, or so it was supposed to be. But Jisung felt as if the world was pushing down on him with every step he made into the apartment. The intensity of the day still clung to him, like a physical weight of frustration, disappointment, and tiredness. He had spent hours in the meeting with the company staff, only to hear criticism for the smallest mistakes and missteps. It wasn't the first time, but it always hurt. This time, however, it seemed different; he couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy.

The door clicked behind him, and the familiar aroma of home didn't bring much comfort. Instead, it was almost smothering. His limbs ached, his mind raced, and all he needed was peace, time to unwind.

But you were there.

You always were.

As soon as he walked through the door, your eyes searched his face, and he could see the concern etched over your features. He could tell you'd sensed something was wrong. He attempted to disguise it when he saw you earlier that day, brushing off your "are you okay?" with a quick "yeah, I'm fine," but now, as you stood there with that sweet look in your eyes, he couldn't help but see it. You could look right through him, like glass.

"Jisung," you said quietly, your voice carrying the gentle tone you always used when you knew he was struggling, "are you sure you're okay? You don’t look okay."

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked. You'd been asking since the moment he came home, like you always did when you saw him worn down, like you always did when he looked like he was holding a little too much in. But no matter how well you meant it, no matter how much you truly cared about him, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Not today. Not tonight.

"I’m fine," he muttered, his tone dismissive, but you could hear the edge in his voice.

You hesitated, eyes scanning him again, sensing the distance between his words and the tension in his body.

"Jisung… I know you’re not fine," you said softly, a frown pulling at your lips. You reached toward him, wanting to bridge the gap that was widening between you, but he stepped back before you could touch him.

"I’m fine," he repeated, louder this time, irritation lacing his voice. "Just stop asking."

Your heart twisted, but you tried to swallow the hurt, not wanting to push him further. But you couldn’t stop yourself from trying again, desperate to get him to open up. "Please, I can tell something’s wrong. If you need to talk, I’m here."

He froze at that, hands clenched at his sides, jaw clenched. His frustration, the irritation that had been building inside him all day, finally cracked open.

"I said I'm fine!" He snapped, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with anger, not at you, but at the world that had worn him down. "Why are you always so clingy? It's annoying. I do not need you hovering over me like this. I don't need you constantly keeping tabs on me!" The words were biting and nasty. You trembled, a flood of hurt smashing over you, but you tried to stay calm.

You couldn't help but feel the sting of dismissal and the weight of his harshness. "I'm just trying to help you," you said softly, your voice quivering slightly. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. Why don't you let me help?"

He glanced at you, the spark of guilt in his eyes swiftly drowned out by the a flood of frustration within him. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He wanted to apologize. He knew he hurt you. But the words did not come, and he had no idea how to make it right. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted when everything inside him felt like it was about to come apart.

You did not wait for him to say anything. The anger, bewilderment, and hurt welled up in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and marched out, your footsteps loud and strong as you made your way to the bedroom.

The door slammed behind you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. You sank onto the bed, feeling the weight of the frustration both his and yours press down on your chest like a suffocating blanket.

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to feel this way. You had only wanted to help him. To be there for him when he was struggling. But all he had done was push you away.

You heard no footsteps, no soft knock on the door. Normally, when something like this happened, he would come after you. He would apologize, his voice soft and regretful, and you’d make up. He’d say something about how it wasn’t you, how he was just having a hard time. But this time, the silence stretched on. The door stayed closed.

It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t coming.

The silence felt so loud, so suffocating, and it only made everything hurt more. He wasn’t here to apologize. He wasn’t here to soothe you like he always did.

And maybe this time it wasn't all about him. Maybe it was more than simply his tiredness and irritation. Maybe it was about something deeper, something more than just a bad day at work. Your heart broke at the thought that he might have pushed you away because he didn't know how to accept you. Maybe he'd been hiding his pain for so long because he was frightened to show you the parts of himself he thought were too shattered. Maybe he was just too stressed to recognize that you weren't a burden, but rather someone who wanted to help him shoulder the weight.

But right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he had called you clingy, had pushed you away when all you wanted was to hold him close.

You curled up in bed, hugging your knees to your chest, and tried not to cry.

You didn’t hear him come in, but you felt the weight of the bed shift beside you. Jisung’s presence was always so familiar, so warm, but tonight it felt distant. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, in the darkness, as the minutes dragged on.

And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t know if you could ask him again if he was okay. Not yet. Not until he was ready to admit that he wasn’t.

felix

It had been one of those days where everything seemed strange, as if a thin film of tension had been applied to the edges of everything you did. The kind of day where even the most basic tasks felt significant, and no matter how hard you tried to make things feel normal, you couldn't escape the growing distance. Maybe you chalked it up to stress. Maybe it was just a phase. Everyone goes through a hard stretch, right? But when you woke in the middle of the night, your hand instinctively going for the warm spot beside you, only to find it empty, that emotion became too strong to ignore. Felix had always been the one to stay close, even in sleep. He was always so attentive to your needs, so present. But now, the space between you was cold, and the bed felt too large without him there.

You sat up, the quiet of the room pressing in on you, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you swung your legs off the side of the bed. The soft glow of the TV in the living room flickered across the hallway, casting long shadows.

As you made your way down the hall, you saw him there, slumped on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen but unseeing, staring at it like it held some answer that he couldn’t quite grasp. You could see the strain in his posture, the weight of something pressing on him, but he didn't acknowledge you as you approached.

You stopped a few feet away, unsure what to say. The silence between you two felt like a wall, immovable and unbreakable. This wasn't the Felix you knew, the one who would always offer a comforting smile or an encouraging word when you needed it. This version of him was remote and frigid, as if he built a fortress and did not plan to let anyone in.

"Felix," you whispered slowly, trying not to shock him, your voice trembling with emotion. "What's wrong?"

He didn’t respond at first, as if he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he just didn’t want to answer. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like it added more distance between you two. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was low and strained, and it hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Nothing,” he muttered, though it was clear that wasn’t true. His words didn’t match the heaviness in the air, the emptiness that had settled between you two. “Just… leave me alone, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Leave him alone? You didn’t understand. Since when had he ever asked you for space, especially like this? Felix had always been the one to reach out, to comfort you, to be the one you could lean on when things got tough. But now, he was shutting you out, pushing you away.

You stood there, paralyzed, staring at the back of his head as the emptiness in the room seemed to swallow you whole. His posture was stiff, almost defensive, like he was trying to make himself smaller, trying to hide from you, and it hurt more than you ever expected.

"You don't have to be so clingy all the time," he said, his voice more clipped and distant than you'd ever heard. It was as if the words were spoken by someone else, a stranger in the body of the person you loved.

Clingy? The word resonated in your thoughts, sending you reeling. You'd never considered yourself clingy. Have you really gotten so annoying? Was your affection and presence too much for him? You couldn't understand it. The connection, the intimacy that had once been so natural between you two now seemed so far away, as if it were a dream you couldn't fathom.

“I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry, not to show him just how much his words had wounded you. “I just wanted to know what’s wrong. You’re… you’re not like this, Felix. Not with me.”

You took a tentative step forward, hoping that your proximity would reach him, that your presence would somehow break through the wall he had built around himself. But he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge you, and that hurt more than anything else. It was the silence, the refusal to face you, that felt like a betrayal.

"Please talk to me," you whispered, your heart breaking as you watched him remain motionless on the couch, his eyes still fixed on the television, as though he could pretend you weren’t even there.

But Felix didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his focus on the screen, the distant expression on his face more painful than any argument. You could feel the distance between you growing, spreading like a chasm, and it felt like you were standing at the edge, about to fall into the void.

It wasn't always this way, you thought, recalling times when simply being in the same room was enough to make you feel connected. It seemed as if you blinked and everything had changed. He wasn't the same Felix who would stay up with you when you were feeling sad, holding you and whispering comfort in the darkness. The man who had once looked at you with warmth and love now seemed so distant, like a stranger you didn't recognize.

Your heart ached; the anguish of losing him, feeling him slide through your fingers, was almost excruciating. You could not tolerate the deafening stillness between you any longer.

With a last, desperate glance at him, you whispered, “I’m here, Felix. I’m always here for you. If you need space, if you need time, I’ll give it to you. But I just… I just need to know you’re okay.”

But he didn't respond and didn't move. His silence hurt worse than words could, and you realized, with a sickening feeling, that you had no idea where you stood in his life. The Felix you knew, the Felix who would always reach out to you, seemed like a memory you could no longer grasp onto. You turned away, your feet feeling heavy as you walked back to the bedroom, the distance between you two becoming more than just physical.

The weight of his disinterest crushed against your chest, smothering you, and you wondered whether things would ever be the same again. Will he come to you eventually? Would he tell you about what was bothering him, or had you already lost him in ways you couldn’t fix?

You climbed back into bed, the sheets cold where he should have been beside you. And as the night stretched on in silence, you tried not to feel the unbearable emptiness that had settled in your heart, wondering if Felix would ever look at you the same way again.

seungmin

The front door creaked open, and you could hear Seungmin's footsteps in the hallway, dragging slightly, indicating how exhausted he must have been after a long day of practice and vocal lessons. You'd been waiting for him, possibly too eagerly, though you tried not to admit it. You had planned to talk, the conversation you'd been putting off for days because the silence had gotten unbearable. The subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he became more distant and engaged in his own world, weighed heavy on your chest.

You knew how busy he was, how much work he put into his training and craft. But it didn't take away the sting of feeling like an afterthought, as if you were no longer a part of his life. You had tried to keep it together, to give him his space when he needed it, but the continual feeling of being neglected was gradually pulling you apart. You needed him to see you. You needed him to care the way he used to, to put forth the same effort that you did.

So, as the door clicked shut and you heard him move toward the kitchen, you braced yourself and entered the hallway to greet him.

"Seungmin," you called softly, but there was no immediate response. He didn’t even look up, didn’t even glance in your direction.

You took a breath, trying to keep the anxiety from choking you. "Can we talk?" Your voice was steady, though you could feel the tremor beneath it. "It feels like we’re not the same anymore."

His footsteps faltered for half a second, and you thought maybe you had caught his attention. But instead of stopping, he just continued walking past you, brushing past your shoulder so closely you could feel the coldness radiating off him. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

"Seungmin," you said again, but this time there was a little crack in your voice, a vulnerability you didn't want to express. You needed him to hear and see you, even if just for a moment. But he did not stop. Finally, he gave a low, exasperated groan that hung between you like a wall. He turned halfway, his eyes flickering to you with an enigmatic expression. "Why do you always make things so dramatic?" His comments were harsh, cutting through the silence and making you flinch. "You're really clingy. Just leave me alone for once."

The words were like a punch to the gut. The force of them knocked the wind out of you, and your heart seemed to stop for just a moment, trapped somewhere in the space between your chest and throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say something so cold, so dismissive. All you had wanted was to talk, to bridge the distance that had formed between you, but now it felt like you were drowning in it.

Your body went still. You opened your mouth to respond, to explain how unfair that was, but no words came. How could you even argue against that? How could you explain that all you wanted was his attention, his care? You weren’t clingy you were hurt.

"Seungmin, I’m not—" The words tumbled out weakly, but they didn’t seem to matter.

"You are," he interrupted, his tone now flat, distant. "I don’t have the energy for this right now."

He turned away from you, heading toward the kitchen without another glance, leaving you standing in the hallway, shattered.

You stood there for a long moment, frozen in the aftermath of his words. Everything you had been holding back, all the frustration, the confusion, the loneliness that had built up over the last few weeks, was suddenly crashing down on you like a wave. Was that it? Was that all you were to him now? Someone who was too much to deal with?

You had never felt so small. So invisible.

You had tried to keep it together. You had told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just stressed, that he didn’t mean it. But now, standing there in the hallway with nothing but the echo of his dismissal ringing in your ears, you realized that maybe this was the problem the distance. The lack of communication. The feeling that no matter how hard you tried, you could never reach him, never get him to understand what you needed, what you were hurting from.

You wanted to chase after him, to try again, to make him see how much his words had stung. But something inside of you had broken. There was a voice inside you now that said, "It’s too late. You’ve tried. He doesn’t want to listen." And that was more painful than anything else knowing that, deep down, he didn’t even want to meet you halfway anymore.

You had hoped, and even prayed, that things would return to normal, that the love you once shared would reemerge. But standing there, you couldn't help but feel as if you were fighting a losing war. You didn't ask for much: simply his time, presence, and devotion. You never expected this level of coldness in return.

The silence in the home became intolerable, and each second felt like a weight on your chest. You wanted to yell at him and urge him to care, but all you could do was stand there, feeling the barriers between you two grow higher and higher.

You turned away slowly, your legs heavy, your head spinning with everything you had just heard. You didn’t know what hurt more: his words or the fact that he had walked past you like you were nothing.

You needed him to care, but right now, it felt like the person you needed was already gone.

I.N

The evening had been everything you hoped it would be: thrilling, warm, and full of laughing. You'd been dating Jeongin for about a year, and he was finally introducing you to his members. It seemed like an important milestone in your relationship. You'd heard so much about them, and now you'd get to meet the people he cared about the most. The anticipation had you beaming all evening as you helped Jeongin in cooking dinner, your heart filled with delight at the prospect of cooking together and spending time with the people who were such an important part of his life.

The dinner had gone smoothly. The atmosphere was cozy, filled with the sound of happy chatter and the clinking of silverware. The members were friendly, teasing each other and joking around. You could see why Jeongin was so close with them they were like brothers, comfortable and at ease with each other. You had felt so welcomed by them, their laughter contagious, and the food you had helped prepare had been met with praises.

As the night wore on, everyone settled into the living room, enjoying sweet treats and wine. It was the perfect end to a perfect evening, or so you had thought.

But as the evening wore on, you noticed something that made your stomach churn. Jeongin was distant. He had been quieter than normal, with his focus wandering. Normally, he would be the first to steal a kiss from you or press his hand on yours if you were close. But tonight? Tonight, it felt as if he was purposefully keeping distance between the two of you.

You brushed it off at first, believing he was just weary or stressed after introducing you to everyone. After all, meeting his members was a major step, and maybe he was just concerned with making sure things went smoothly.

But it wasn’t just that.

When you leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, like you had done numerous times before without thinking twice, he pulled away almost immediately. The action was swift and sharp, as if you had done something wrong. You blinked in surprise, a frown tugging on your lips, but before you could ask what was wrong, he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, "Stop being so clingy." The words struck you like a physical punch. You froze, the warmth of your feelings for him vanished, replaced by a frigid knot of perplexity and embarrassment. Did he mean it? You could feel the weight of the members' gazes as you looked around the room, though no one said anything. But you could tell they had heard, the awkward silence that followed making it painfully clear.

You felt heat rising up your cheeks, humiliated. Had you overstepped? You had never been clingy before and had never thought of yourself in that way. But his comments, which were cutting and contemptuous, hurt more than you wanted to acknowledge. The casual tenderness you had always shared seemed like a distant memory today, a bitter reminder of how things had changed without warning.

Jeongin had always been so warm and tactile with you. Kisses on your cheek while cooking, his arm slung over your shoulder while watching TV, all the little things that made you feel safe and cherished. But tonight? Tonight he was a different person.

You tried to ignore it, thinking maybe it was a bad moment. Perhaps he was just tired, or maybe something had happened at work or with the members that was weighing on him. But as the night continued, the distance between you only seemed to grow. When you tried to brush your hand against his, he pulled it away, a small frown on his face. When you tried to rest your head on his shoulder again, he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your touch with a small sigh.

It was as if you were a stranger to him, someone he couldn’t stand to be close to.

Your heart dropped. It was a feeling you never expected to have with him, the type of coldness that made you question everything, including the entire foundation of your relationship. You had no idea what was going on in his mind, but the way he was treating you now felt so different from the Jeongin you had fell for.

You excused yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and prevent yourself from entirely disintegrating. The quiet hum of the talk in the living room followed you as you walked back, the members' voices merging into the background as your thoughts occupied you.

Was he angry with you? Had you done something wrong? Maybe he was embarrassed by you, by your clinginess. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen as the guy who couldn’t control his girlfriend. Maybe you were being too needy, too dependent, and he just couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe he had changed, and you were the one who had failed to notice.

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the tightness in your chest. When you returned to the living room, you tried to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. But the look on Jeongin’s face when you came back made your stomach twist even further. He didn’t smile at you like he usually did. He didn’t reach for you. He just sat there, a distance between you that felt like an ocean.

You sat down again, feeling smaller than you had with him before. You did not want to confront him in front of the other members. Not when things were going so well. You didn't want to ruin the evening or make things uncomfortable for everyone. But the awkwardness was already there. It seemed like a thick cloud suffocating you, and you knew he felt the same way.

Eventually, the evening came to an end. The group began saying their goodbyes, laughing and conversing, although their voices were scarcely audible. You were too consumed by the subtle tension between you and Jeongin, who hadn't spoken anything to you since your previous conversation. You gently grabbed your stuff, not quite meeting his eyes.

When you reached the door, Jeongin still hadn’t moved. He was standing by the couch, talking to one of the members, completely ignoring you. It wasn’t how you thought it would go. This wasn’t how you imagined the night would end.

It wasn’t until you were halfway out the door that he finally spoke, his voice distant, flat. "You okay?" he asked, as if the tension between you hadn’t been there all evening.

You stood frozen, looking back at him, your chest tight. You wanted to say so many things. You wanted to ask why he was acting this way, to demand an explanation, to tell him how hurt you were by the way he had dismissed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

"Yeah," you replied softly, your voice quiet, strained. "I’m fine."

And then you stepped out, leaving the apartment behind, the discomfort and uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick cloud. You had no idea what had happened or what had caused this abrupt change, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something in your relationship had just broken. Something that might not be fixable.

And as the door clicked shut behind you, you weren't sure if Jeongin noticed.

//

(proofread ❌)

masterlist

[underanothername]

^ How to say you're entirely disconnected from your food source without saying you're entirely disconnected from your food source. Makes me wonder what they'll say when they figure out where eggs come from! Or that veggies are grown in - gasp! - dirt.

As someone who has both seen a cow from less than 10' and had extensive contact with ALL of their bodily secretions (including but not limited to blood, pus, liquid shit, amniotic fluid and rumen juice) I can testify that raw milk tastes delicious. But I'm also pretty damn confident that the cows that milk came from were free from TB and brucellosis - the most significant of the diseases that were historically transmitted through raw milk - and I knew what I was doing. That is to say, I 'understand the problem pasteurisation is solving' because I know the microbiology behind it, not because I'm scared of.. what? Dirt? Real life animals? Anything that isn't 100% sanitised and germ-free?

Don't get me wrong, pasteurisation is brilliant and absolutely necessary in most circumstances. It's saved hundreds of thousands of lives. I don't routinely drink raw milk, and I wouldn't do it at all if I hadn't milked the cow myself less than 12 hours before. Most people aren't in that position.

I don't know, perhaps the OP saw a cow that was particularly unhealthy and judged all cows by that standard. And I get it; cattle can often be messy, mucky, challenging, and beautiful. So is life, if you're doing it right.

And yeah, I'm probably having another autistic moment and taking this too seriously, but it worries me that so many people have no real knowledge of how food is grown and produced. It's hard to value something that you're so divorced from, and it leads to making bad decisions as a society. We owe our entire existence to six inches of topsoil and the fact that it rains, yet societies around the world are doing their best to fuck up both the topsoil and the water cycle.

And don't blame the farmers. It's a systemic issue. Most farmers I know want to fix the problems, not exacerbate them; but the majority of customers are only interested in the price of the product, and 'conventional' farming (ie. the high-input, fossil fuel- and chemical-intensive method that's only really been around for 80 years) produces cheap food. It's hard to do the right thing when that might lose you your business and your home. Things are getting better (in Australia at least) - there's way more support for regenerative farming than there was 20 years ago, and methods that were once seen as the delusional ideas of radical hippies are becoming mainstream. But there's still a long way to go.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Fine Line Between Hate and Desire | LN4

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, a journalist covering a charity golf event, clashes with Formula 1 star Lando Norris, whose playful arrogance sparks heated banter. As the day progresses, their tension shifts into undeniable attraction, leaving Y/N torn between resisting his charm and surrendering to the unexpected connection.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.1k

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the pristine greens of the Monaco Golf Club. Y/N adjusted her sunglasses, squinting against the glare as she scanned the crowd. This wasn’t her idea of an exciting assignment—covering a charity golf event featuring Formula 1’s golden boy, Lando Norris. She sighed, gripping her iPad. She was here to focus on the event’s charitable aspect, but she could already feel her patience waning.

She spotted him at the first tee, surrounded by fans, sponsors, and fellow golfers. Lando was unmistakable in a bright orange polo that clashed loudly with his McLaren cap and white shorts. He radiated confidence, his grin wide as he chatted and waved to the crowd. Typical, she thought, marching toward him while adjusting her press badge.

As if sensing her approach, Lando turned and locked eyes with her, his smirk growing. “Ah, the press is here! And who do we have? Y/N, right?”

She nodded curtly. “Mr. Norris,” she replied, her tone clipped. “Ready to lose gracefully today?”

He leaned casually on his driver, the epitome of unbothered. “Oh, I don’t lose. Especially not to journalists.”

A few onlookers chuckled, and Y/N felt her cheeks warm, but she refused to back down. “We’ll see about that. Just try not to embarrass yourself. Wouldn’t want another viral video of you missing a putt.”

Lando laughed, clearly relishing the exchange. “Careful, love. You keep talking like that, and I might think you enjoy my company.”

“In your dreams,” she shot back, her tone sharp.

Unfazed, Lando strolled to the tee, tipping an imaginary hat to the crowd before taking his shot. The ball soared effortlessly, landing perfectly on the fairway. Applause erupted, and Lando turned to her with a wink. “Another perfect shot. Impressed yet?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, pretending to jot something in her notes on her iPad. “I’m sure it’s easy when the only thing on your mind is yourself.”

“Ouch.” He feigned offense, his smirk widening. “I like a bit of bite, though.”

She ignored him and stepped back, but he followed, leaning closer as he lowered his voice. “You could just admit you’re impressed. Everyone is.”

Y/N glared, stepping out of his proximity. “Impressed? By your ego, maybe. I’ve seen better swings from amateurs.”

His chuckle was low and rich, sending an unwelcome shiver down her spine. “Flirting already? You’re full of surprises.”

“Flirting?” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Norris.”

Lando grinned, his confidence unwavering. “We’ll see about that.”

Despite herself, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something—was it intrigue or annoyance? Either way, she pushed it aside, determined to stay focused on her work, even if Lando seemed equally determined to test her resolve.

--

The day dragged on, and the tension between them only grew. Every time Y/N thought she’d managed to avoid him, Lando seemed to materialize out of nowhere, always with some snarky comment or playful jab. By the time they reached the ninth hole, she was ready to strangle him with his own club.

She was standing off to the side, jotting down notes on her iPad, when he appeared beside her. “You know,” he said, his voice low and annoyingly smooth, “you’re even more beautiful when you’re annoyed.”

Y/N froze, her fingers hovering over the screen. She turned to glare at him, but the intensity in his gaze caught her off guard. There was something there—something she couldn’t quite place. Amusement? Curiosity? Or… something else?

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Norris,” she said, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

He tilted his head, studying her. “Who says I’m flattering you? Maybe I’m just stating a fact.” He took a step closer, and suddenly the air between them felt charged, electric. “Or maybe,” he continued, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’m just trying to figure out why you hate me so much.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Damn him. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly charming?

--

The day dragged on, each hole bringing more of Lando’s infuriating charm and Y/N’s biting comebacks. By the time the tournament wrapped up, the tension between them was palpable. They found themselves alone near the clubhouse, the late afternoon sun bathing everything in a warm, amber light.

“Still not impressed?” Lando asked, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His white polo clung to his torso, revealing the defined muscles beneath. Y/N hated how good he looked.

“Not even close,” she replied, though her voice wavered slightly. She hated that too.

Lando pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in a few strides. He stopped just inches away, his blue- green eyes locking with hers. “You’re lying,” he said softly, his tone dripping with confidence. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Y/N tried to step back, but her heel caught on the edge of the pavement. She stumbled, and Lando’s hand shot out, catching her by the waist. His grip was firm, almost possessive, and it sent a jolt through her.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Wouldn’t want you falling for me too quickly.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out. His proximity was overwhelming, his cologne filling her senses. She hated how he made her feel—confused, flustered, weak.

Lando tilted his head, studying her. “You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you sure do get awfully quiet when I’m this close.”

“I don’t—” she started, but he cut her off with a laugh.

“Yes, you do. And you know what? I think you like it.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” His hand slid up her side, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Then why hasn’t slapped me yet?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing. She wanted to push him away, to tell him off, but her body betrayed her, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.

Lando’s smirk returned, triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”

Before she could protest, he closed the gap between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was demanding, dominant, and entirely unexpected. Y/N froze for a moment, then let out a soft moan as his tongue brushed against hers. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as if they had a mind of their own.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. Lando’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Told you,” he whispered, his voice husky. “You’re mine now.”

Y/N tried to argue, but he silenced her with another kiss, deeper this time. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve as if memorizing her. She should’ve stopped him, but the way he touched her—with such confidence, such control—made her melt.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando looked at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Come with me,” he said, his voice rough.

She hesitated, but only for a second. Then she nodded, letting him lead her away from the crowd, toward somewhere more private. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but one thought kept repeating itself: What am I doing?

--

They ended up in a secluded corner of the clubhouse, hidden from prying eyes. Lando pressed her against the wall, his hands roaming hungrily over her body.

Lando’s hands didn’t stop moving, his fingers trailing up the curve of her waist, skimming the edge of her blouse. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “You talk so much shit during the day, but look at you now. Can’t even form a sentence.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but all that came out was a shaky exhale as his lips brushed the sensitive skin just below her jawline. Her body betrayed her, pressing closer despite the voice in her head screaming to pull away.

“Admit it,” he growled, his tone low and commanding. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? All those sarcastic little comments—just your way of trying to convince yourself you don’t want me.”

Her cheeks burned. She wanted to deny it, to push him off and walk away with her pride intact, but the way he looked at her—like he already knew every secret she’d ever kept—made it impossible. His confidence was infuriating, intoxicating.

“I don’t—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp, possessive kiss that left her dizzy.

“Don’t lie to me,” Lando said, pulling back just enough to let his words sink in. His thumb traced her bottom lip, his eyes locked on hers. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you. You want this.”

Her heart hammered in her chest, every nerve in her body alight. She hated how easily he could unravel her, how quickly he’d turned their banter into something electric. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him.

His hands slid down to her hips, gripping tightly as he pressed her harder against the wall. The roughness of his touch sent a shockwave of arousal through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Her eyes widened, her stomach flipping at the intensity in his gaze. “What?”

“You heard me.” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, smug and self-assured. “On. Your. Knees.”

For a moment, she hesitated, her mind racing. This wasn’t her. She didn’t do things like this. But then his hand tightened on her hip, and something inside her shattered.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, her skirt pooling around her thighs. The air between them felt charged, thick with tension as she stared up at him. He loomed above her, his blue-green eyes dark with hunger, and she felt impossibly small under his scrutiny.

“Good girl,” he purred, reaching down to brush a strand of hair from her face. The praise sent a shiver down her spine, and she hated how much it affected her. “Now, let’s see if that sharp mouth of yours is good for anything else.”

Lando’s fingers tightened in her hair, pulling just enough to make her gasp. His other hand traced the line of her jaw, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he gazed down at her with a smug smirk. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “All that fire earlier, and now you’re kneeling for me like the good little girl I knew you could be.”

Y/N’s chest heaved as she glared up at him, but the heat in her eyes was tinged with something else—something raw and undeniable. She hated how much his dominance thrilled her, how the way he looked at her made her pulse race. “I’m not—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp tug on her hair.

“Oh, you are,” he interrupted, his tone laced with amusement. “You can pretend all you want, but we both know you love this. Love being under my control.” He tilted her head back further, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’ve been thinking about it all day, haven’t you? Imagining what it would feel like to have me put you in your place.”

Her cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny it. Every sarcastic remark, every heated glance—it had all been leading to this moment. And now, here she was, completely at his mercy.

Lando let go of her hair long enough to unbutton his pants, the sound of his zipper lowering sending a shiver down her spine. He pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, and Y/N’s breath caught at the sight of him. Thick, already hard, and practically begging for her attention. He gripped himself, giving a slow stroke as he watched her reaction. “Go on,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Touch me. Feel what you’ve been driving me crazy over all day.”

Reluctantly, she reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against him. The warmth of his skin, the hardness beneath her touch—it sent a jolt through her, and she quickly pulled her hand back. But Lando wasn’t having it. He grabbed her wrist, guiding her hand back to him. “Don’t be shy,” he teased, his smirk widening. “You wanted this as much as I did. Now show me how bad you want it.”

His grip on her wrist tightened, forcing her to wrap her fingers around him. He groaned softly as she hesitantly began to move her hand, her strokes tentative at first but growing bolder as she felt him twitch in response. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rougher now. “Just like that.”

But Lando wasn’t content with just her hand. He released her wrist, only to thread his fingers through her hair again, guiding her closer. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. When she hesitated, he tugged sharply on her hair, making her wince. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Swallowing hard, she obeyed, parting her lips as he brought himself to her mouth. He didn’t give her time to adjust, pressing forward until the tip of him brushed against her tongue. “Suck,” he commanded, his voice firm.

She took him into her mouth, the taste of him overwhelming her senses as he slid deeper. He groaned, his hips jerking forward as he pushed himself further, until she felt him hit the back of her throat. Her eyes watered, and she gagged slightly, but Lando’s grip on her hair kept her in place. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, his voice strained. “You look so good like this, choking on my cock.”

He started to move, thrusting shallowly as she struggled to take him. Each time he pushed deeper, she gagged again, tears welling in her eyes. But instead of stopping, Lonly seemed to grow more turned on by her discomfort. “That’s it,” he growled, his hips picking up speed. “Take it like a good girl. You wanted to play games with me all day? Well, this is what you get.”

Her hands clung to his thighs for support as he continued to use her mouth, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared the edge. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered, his breathing ragged. “Can’t believe how easily you folded for me. All that attitude, and now here you are, on your knees, gagging on my dick like the slut I always knew you were.”

His words should’ve made her angry, but instead, they only fueled the fire burning inside her. She moaned around him, the vibrations drawing a loud groan from his lips. “Shit, Y/N,” he hissed, his grip on her hair tightening almost painfully. “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

He pulled back abruptly, leaving her gasping for air as he stroked himself furiously. “Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice dark and commanding. “Tell me how much you want me to finish in your pretty little mouth.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was too overwhelmed, too lost in the haze of desire and humiliation to form a coherent thought. Lando’s smirk returned, and he gave her a knowing look. “Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his tone mocking. “You’ve already come this far. Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out now.”

Something in his tone snapped her out of her daze, and she glared up at him, her defiance returning despite the situation. “Fuck you,” she spat, her voice hoarse.

But Lando only laughed, low and deep. “Oh, I think you’re the one getting fucked here,” he shot back, gripping her chin tightly. “Now stop being stubborn and beg. Or do I need to remind you who’s in charge?”

She hesitated, torn between her pride and the undeniable thrill of submitting to him. Finally, she gave in, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please, Lando. I want it.”

His grin widened, triumphant and utterly arrogant. “Louder,” he urged, his tone teasing. “Let me hear how much you need it.”

“Please,” she repeated, louder this time, her cheeks burning with shame. “I want you to come in my mouth. Please, Lando.”

His groan sent a bolt of heat straight through her, and he guided himself back to her lips. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Now swallow everything I give you.”

Her lips wrapped around him once more, the heat of his arousal filling her mouth as she took him deeper, her tongue working in slow, deliberate strokes. His hands gripped her hair tightly, guiding her movements with a firmness that left no room for hesitation. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, his heavy breaths echoing above her as he watched her with those piercing blue-green eyes.

“That’s it,” Lando murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Take all of me. Show me how much you want this.”

“Look at you,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension and something darker, more possessive. “Kneeling there like you were made for it. Tell me, Y/N, did you think about this when you were writing all those biting remarks about me? Did you imagine me bending you to my will?”

She whimpered softly, the sound muffled by his length filling her mouth. Her pride was long gone, replaced by a strange mix of shame and desire that only fueled her actions. Her hands, which had been resting limply at her sides, moved almost instinctively to his hips, her fingers brushing against the taut muscles there. He smirked down at her, his confidence radiating like a forcefield.

“Go on,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Feel me. Isn’t this what you wanted? To see what I’m made of?”

Her fingers trembled as they trailed up his abdomen, feeling the hard ridges of his abs beneath his shirt. She hated how much she wanted to touch him, how badly she needed to prove to herself that he was just as flawless as he claimed to be. And he was—every inch of him was sculpted perfection, from the defined lines of his chest to the strength in his thighs. She bit back a moan as her hands explored him, her mouth still working him fervently.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “Take it all. Show me how much you want it.”

She obeyed, her tongue swirling around him, her lips pressing tightly as she worked him with a skill that surprised even herself. Lando’s head fell back, a moan slipping past his lips as he watched her with half-lidded eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice strained. “You’re so fucking good at this. All that attitude, all that sass… and now this. Who would’ve thought?”

She couldn’t deny it, not with the way her body responded to him, not with the wet heat pooling between her own legs as she knelt before him. Her pride screamed at her to stop, to pull away and tell him exactly where he could shove his arrogance, but her body betrayed her. She wanted this—wanted him—more than she cared to admit.

The humiliation burned in her chest, but so did something else—something hotter, wilder. She sucked harder, her hands gripping his thighs for balance as she took him deeper, her throat relaxing around him. His groans grew louder, more desperate, and she felt a thrill of power knowing she was unraveling him just as much as he had undone her.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his hips thrusting shallowly into her mouth. “All that fight, all that bullshit… and look at you now. On your knees, swallowing me like a good girl.”

Her nails dug into his thighs, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she doubled down, her movements becoming frantic, hungry. She wanted to hear him lose control, wanted to feel him come undone because of her.

Lando chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the power he held over her. “You’re so fucking easy,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “All it took was a little push, and here you are, on your knees for me. Tell me, darling—how does it feel to know I could have you anytime I want?”

Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she took him deeper, her throat relaxing as she swallowed him whole. His breath hitched, and his grip on her hair tightened, pulling her closer. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice trembling for the first time since this began. “You’re good at this. Better than I expected.”

The praise sent a thrill through her, and she doubled her efforts, her tongue swirling around him as she sucked him harder, faster. His groans grew louder, more desperate, and she knew he was close. She could feel it in the way his body tensed, in the way his hips began to thrust ever so slightly into her mouth.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Keep going. Fucking swallow it all when I come.”

She obeyed without hesitation, her moans vibrating against him as she felt him swell in her mouth. He cursed under his breath, and then he was spilling himself down her throat, his release hot and thick as she drank every drop. She didn’t dare pull away, not even when he shuddered violently above her, his hands tightening painfully in her hair.

When he finally stilled, she leaned back slightly, letting him slip from her lips. She opened her mouth, showing him the evidence of his release still coating her tongue. His eyes darkened with something primal, something hungry, and he let out a low, appreciative laugh.

“Good girl,” he purred, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “Didn’t think you had it in you, but you proved me wrong. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she looked up at him. His expression was unreadable now, a mix of satisfaction and something else—something softer, almost tender. But then the moment passed, and the familiar cocky grin returned to his face.

“Bet you never thought you’d end up like this, huh?” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. “On your knees for some arrogant arsehole you claim to hate. Admit it—you like this. You like being my little plaything.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him he was wrong, but the words caught in her throat. Because deep down, she knew he was right. She hated him, yes, but there was no denying the thrill that coursed through her every time he looked at her like that, every time he touched her with that possessive roughness.

His smirk widened, as if he could read her thoughts. “See? I told you. You’re mine now, whether you like it or not.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back, her voice husky despite her best efforts. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Lando laughed, the sound rich and warm, and she hated how much she liked it. “Keep telling yourself that, love,” he said, his hand catching her chin and tilting her face to meet his gaze. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “But we both know the truth—you’re mine now.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was far gentler than she would have expected from him. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to leave her reeling, her mind struggling to reconcile the man before her with the arrogant prick she thought she knew.

And then he pulled away, his grin returning as he offered her a hand to help her up. “Come on,” he said, his tone light now, almost playful. “Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”

She hesitated, torn between pride and the undeniable pull he had on her. Finally, she slipped her hand into his, allowing him to help her up. With effortless ease, he draped an arm over her shoulders, drawing her closer as they strolled away. His warmth radiated through her, a quiet comfort she hadn’t expected.

Glancing down at her, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know,” he began, his tone light and teasing, “I might just keep you around. You’re too much fun to let go.”

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Norris. This doesn’t mean I like you.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Sure, darling. Keep telling yourself that. But we both know the truth.”

His fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “And I can’t wait to prove it to you again.”

[rouge-fauna]

Normally, I wouldn't really say anything about the drama and stuff, because that's not what I'm here for and honestly I feel like a lot of it is just none of my business. But, it just feels so close to home for me that I can't help but say something. Because here's the thing people aren't going to talk about and probably don't even realize, but I think so much of this drama actually has to do with Dream being autistic.

Just notice the themes of what Tubbo said about Dream being weird, inappropriate, not considering the social boundaries, not communicating, coming across wrong… etc these are all things that can be attributed to Dream literally not knowing better because of neurodivergence. That’s not an excuse but an explanation to know the difference between Dream texting Tommy’s mom out of being manipulative versus not understanding how that breaks a social boundary. That’s not to say Dream should get a free pass to do whatever but I think in the same way we take into consideration other people’s ages and their naivety and obliviousness and inexperience into consideration, Dream’s neurodivergence should be considered too. It is valid. It makes a difference between manipulative and malicious intent versus simply not seeing it the same way.

And really the sad thing is, that I think people will always dislike Dream. At the end of the day, I think that will never change, because even if he was the most perfect person people would still dislike him because of an underlying subconscious response to him not being like the rest. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he is made the villain in real life and in the dsmp, because it is simply a psychological fact that people inherently dislike autistic people. It’s not because they are ableist it’s just we don’t act like they do so that makes us weird and therefore unlikeable. And it’s hard to understand us because our brains our literally different and as has been said throughout history what we don’t understand we hate, we fear, we see as evil, we attack. Why does Dream get canceled and attacked over and over again? Not because they are true and it proves a pattern that he’s shitty, but because society is so desperate to find a more tangible reason to hate him other than the fact that they just do. Because his behavior breaks social rules he didn’t realize existed. Because he’s easy pickings. Because in my opinion it all comes down to autism and honestly until that piece is actually taken into consideration nothing will probably resolve.

[jakejeffreyperalta]

this post gets even more important after the live action series because they literally took everything that made sokka such an iconic and important character and scratched it 😭 yes, sexism is bad, but sokka being sexist in the beginning was good for his character because it forced him to grow and change and adapt to the world he was thrown into suddenly (which are all qualities of a leader) and correct the error of his ways and say sorry. it showed the viewers that it IS possible to grow and become a better person, it's just your choice to do it. that's the point !!! that's the fucking point !!! how do you miss it so bad !!! goddddd

the live action believes that "morally correct" or "good" characters cannot be flawed, which is so stupid. sokka being flawed is the POINT of his character !!! his sexism isn't perpetuating sexism, it's there to show how utterly stupid sexism actually is, because he keeps getting proven wrong over and over. and him overcoming his sexism doesn't just happen when someone says "hey man being sexist isn't cool ♡ pls change." it happens after he gets humbled by his sister SO MANY TIMES, then humbled by the kyoshi warriors and suki yet again. it happens when he bows down to suki and begs her to teach him, it happens when he wears the uniform of the kyoshi warriors and wields their weapon, it happens when he is proud of his sister for being stronger than him, instead of ridiculing her. and it's only when he's not sexist anymore that the narrative actually gives him liberty to grow further as a character, which is SOOO interesting, because usually these type of characters are introduced and let go in one or two episodes because they're supposed to be a lesson, but now sokka isn't sexist and there's three seasons left, and it's such a satisfying journey to see him geniuenly grow and become everything he said he was, but actually EARNING it this time.

when you take away the flaws and the imperfections from sokka's character, he's literally nothing, because his character is supposed to tell you that EVERYONE is flawed and a little bit stupid, but it is literally so easy to decide to change and grow. you just have to be brave enough to make that choice. sokka doesn't have powers and he's not a god - which is everything that he's insecure about, but also his biggest strength. him being "normal" lets his character grow and it's PERFECT for him, because he is not bound by anything like godhood or having only one ability to be perfect at - he can do whatever he wants and do it badly, but he can DO IT. he can be an artist, an engineer, an inventor, a swordsman, a poet, a politician, a soldier, a leader, and he doesn't have to be the best at any of these things, which is technically a "flaw" but it also isn't, not when he grows and learns every passing day and becomes BETTER, not when he keeps trying and failing and trying yet again. at the end of the day, he's not the best swordsman, but he's a quick thinker and he's smart, so he can hold his ground. but he's not the smartest person and gets outsmarted and manipulated by someone much younger than him on multiple occasions, but he's adaptable and flexible, so he's fine. he's an inventor, but not the best at actually putting things together, but it's fine, because he's practical and every idea he has is actually doable. is he the best artist? no. is he the best swordsman? no. is he the most strong-willed? no. is he the smartest? no. all of these can be considered "flaws" or "imperfections" but it makes him who he is, and his different capabilities pick up where the others lack, to make him everything he wants to be.

sokka's character is a love letter to the viewers, i think, telling us it's okay to be flawed, to be normal, because you're still loved and accepted and we are so so proud of you for trying.

cannot stress this enough but sokka is literally how u are supposed to handle a comic relief character like he's funny but he's also smart, he's a leader, he's charming and strategic and is respected by everyone. he's allowed to be vulnerable and emotional but that doesn't stop him from being brave and courageous, that doesn't make him any less of a fighter. he's allowed to be himself and flaunt ALL of his qualities. he's allowed to have flaws, but he's allowed to grow and learn to be a better person.