#I could just. interact with people in ordinary conversations.

[22degreehalo]

So... I'm here.

I'm finally in a place where I can sit back and reflect.

For a long time, pretty much my entire existence has revolved around 'I need to figure out how to get a job.' It was really hard for me to properly focus on anything else (apart from hyperfixations), because it made me anxious, like I was being lazy and unproductive while not tackling the Main Problem.

And, the problem hasn't fully been solved. I'm still just a casual. I only get a few shifts per week. I'm still looking for another casual position, and to eventually be made permanent.

But the work I have is ongoing. It's not on a contract. I don't need to stress out about a defined ending date. My job is just here, indefinitely. When I get another casual position, that won't just be replacing the position I'm going to lose. (Or, as actually happened in the past, already lost.) It'll be extra. Another chance to get permanency, and a way to prove I'm good enough for two jobs.

Or maybe I could do something else? I'm not sure. Ironically, though I'm in a better position now than every before, I have wayyyy more time. (Though unfortunately I had to drop out of my tafe course the other week because the training period was just too intensive to do it alongside it.)

There is a certain feeling of directionlessness. I found myself feeling earlier today that I wished I was at work, lol: with clear tasks to complete and feel proud of. But now I can actually commit myself to other tasks with less guilt or anxiety.

I looked up affordable housing today. It still feels a bit early to actually move out. Maybe when/if I get a second casual position. It would bring a lot of other problems for me. But I think it would also be very good for my mental health in a lot of ways.

When I do move out and am living on my own... I'm not sure how I'll feel. That's what I've been working towards all this time. Will I be able to adapt to just... accepting that this is my life, rather than waiting for change? Will I feel comfortable to just appear to people as myself, happy with the way things are? It won't be The End. I've always wanted to raise a child, and that's a whole other thing. But that's something I could reasonably 'put off' until later, when I'm ready. Something I could say that I'm not doing right now because I don't want to.

I feel excited. Motivated. Like the things I work on might actually lead to something good later on, and be worth the struggle. It's still pretty vague and I don't know what to do with it, but it's there. A weight is off my shoulders. It's done.

And that feels good.

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[lulunothulu]

There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This is normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

[daisynik7]

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society. 

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit. 

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more. 

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more. 

This theory is soon debunked. 

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood. 

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious. 

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later. 

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say��anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone. 

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you. 

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t. 

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special. 

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him. 

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him. 

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay. 

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence. 

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life. 

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won. 

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody. 

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright. 

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night. 

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more. 

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore. 

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front. 

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful. 

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you. 

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

[oracle-of-dream]

Hotel Hookup

Summary: You're a huge Riize fan, and you're bias is Wonbin. You recently got to go to their concert and had so many amazing interactions with Wonbin. After the concert, you bump into each other in the bathroom and he gives you his autograph, along with his hotel room number...

Warnings: Male reader, Virign reader, idol Wonbin, dry humping, sub reader, dom Wonbin, corruption kink

Wordcount: 2.5k

This is a request

Walking down the street to the venue, the excitement was washing over you. The headlights of traffic, the breeze in your face, and the squeals and screams of fans as they travel with you to the same place. It was still hard to believe you managed to land tickets for the Riize concert, much less get a lucky VIP ticket.

The venue offered five random tickets to be selected for the VIP treatment, along with being able to purchase the VIP upgrade. The day you got the email that your seat was one of the lucky five, you almost slapped yourself; thinking it was a dream. The VIP treatment came with a seat upgrade, sound check, a hi-touch, and even a photo with a member.

You crossed the last street before reaching the venue; the lights shined into the night sky, and you could hear the thumbs of the speakers vibrating through your feet. The line for the VIP was almost empty, while the main entry had people lining up with at least 100 people already there. They must've camped out all day to get in line so early...

A staff member caught you taking in the view and approached you. "Are you lost? If you need, I can show you where you need to go."

You pulled out your phone and showed them your ticket.

"Oh, the VIP section is that way! You might want to hurry the sound check may start soon."

You followed the staff's directions: moving through the VIP section, rushing through the security check, and making it to your seat. The stage was so close, much closer than you could've imagined. You had a clear view of the right side of the stage, a little above the barricade. You were allowed to go to the barricade, but after hearing how vicious it gets, you decided against it.

After waiting about 10 minutes, some of the opening music started playing, and the members were lifted onto the stage from the floor. The VIP audience cheered for them as Riize went through the motions of their concert, practicing their last bits of choreography and interacting with fans as they did. Wonbin approached your side of the stage and waved toward your section, making all the girls scream and shout for his direct attention. Shyly, you smiled and waved back, cheering but not as loud as the others in your section. He smiled and walked off, but stayed around the right side of the stage.

Wonbin was even more beautiful than any of his photos. His glasses sat on his chiseled nose, his most of hair neatly tucked behind his ears with few strands sweeping onto his face, and his baggy white t-shirt that exposed his collar bone and some of his chest made him look like an ordinary guy. But you knew he was anything but that... For the rest of the sound check, Wonbin kept swinging by your section and giving love to your group.

There was a small break before the concert fully started. Some of your friends texted you asking to meet up with you. Agreeing to meet at the food court and get snacks.

After chatting with your friends, you stopped by the bathroom before heading back to your seat. A bit of a perk of being a male K-pop fan was that the men's bathroom was usually deserted compared to the huge line out of the women's room.

Just as you suspected, the bathroom was empty. You went to a stall and went about your business. Just as you finished, you heard the door open. Two people came in, a man and a woman, speaking Korean. You didn't know why, but you jumped onto the toilet seat to hide your feet.

No way someone was coming in here to hook up...

There was another bit of conversation before you heard the door shut again. Not a noise...

You stepped down from the toilet and opened the stall to see a figure with long black hair looking at himself in the mirror. He turned around to look at you. His long black hair coiled beautifully around his face. Wonbin was looking directly at you. Just the two of you in that bathroom...

"I'm sorry, I was just in here and..." You started but lost the courage to continue.

Wonbin smiled at you. "It's okay, I thought my manager checked well enough. Please, enjoy the show." He bowed slightly and walked out the door, walking away with his manager.

You washed your hands at the sink, reeling from the experience of having spoken to him. You sprinted back to your seat when you heard the crowd start cheering, signaling the start of the show. You'd have to tell your friends about meeting him later!

The concert itself was amazing. Anton's cello performance with Sohee singing a ballad, and watching Eunseok, Sungchan, and Shotaro have a dance-off made you laugh so hard. Wonbin's stage was a solo performance. He played guitar and sang, silencing the entire venue. He covered, "Attention" by Charlie Puth.

His eyes were trained on the camera in front of him, but every few words he'd glance off in the direction of the audience. One of those glances shot right at you. At first, it felt like it was a coincidence, just a lucky look, but he looked back. Again and again. After finding you in the crowd, he couldn't help himself from looking in your direction. Your face got warm at his expression, the look in his eyes.

"What are you doing to me?" He sang, looking directly at you. It felt like he was speaking to you.

Before you knew it, the song was over... The concert resumed and the audience was cheering loudly again, but you still couldn't get over Wonbin. The concert ended in a flash. Riize was giving their last goodbye, finished an encore stage, and started leaving. The staff directed the VIP section to follow them backstage to get a picture with the members. And you couldn't help but touch up your look, making sure you didn't look a mess before you got to meet them.

The boys came out of their dressing room, still wearing their outfits from the encore stage and wiping some of their sweat from performing. One by one they went through everyone. Sometimes the members chose who was going to take a picture if the fan was too overwhelmed. But when you stepped forward, Wobin immediately stepped forward for your photos, holding you by the waist while taking your phone to take it. That's when staff walked out with Riize's newest album as a surprise gift to the fans. Each member took the time to sign the albums and talk to each fan. The conversations were cut short, as the staff didn't let you speak for long, but Wonbin winked at you when he gave you your album.

"Read my message before you leave! I hope you like it!" He said as he was ushered back into the dressing room.

You followed the staff out the side door and walked to your car. Once inside you took a moment to crack open the album and find Wobin's message he left for you.

Our meeting in the bathroom was fun, let's meet again! Come to this address, my room number is 247, on floor 20. Knock three times so I know it's you. Don't keep me waiting~

-Wonbin

Your jaw was ready to come clean off your face. Wonbin wanted to meet you again!? You could hardly believe getting to meet him, much less him wanting to see you again. Not wanting to wait another moment, you put the address into your GPS and drove off to meet him.

The address led you to a fancy hotel, looking over the downtown area and not too far from the area. You nervously entered the lobby, trying to act natural so no one would stop you. You got past the front desk and got into the elevator right as someone else was getting in.

"Could you push floor 20 for me?" You asked.

The person nodded, mostly absorbed in their phone to fully acknowledge you.

You got to the twentieth floor and wandered before finding the door... Room 247. Holding your hand up to the door was harder than you expected. Your heart was in your throat, terrified that you'd get busted or get the wrong room. Before you got to knock, the door opened, and Wonbin standing in the doorway.

"Come in, quick!"

You hurried into the room and he closed it behind you. "So... Wonbin, it's so–"

Wonbin smashed his lips into yours, trying to make out with you.

Your eyes widened. You couldn't push him away, but you didn't know where to touch him either. And he must've noticed, as he took your hands and placed one on his neck and the other on his waist.

When you separated for a moment, you took your opportunity to speak. "Wait, I thought you just wanted to meet again!"

Wonbin laughed. "We can meet and fuck. Can't we?" He walked toward you slowly as you backed away from him.

"Can you slow down for a minute?" You backed into a chair, falling into the seat.

"What's wrong?" Wonbin frowned. "Am I not hot enough? You looked like you liked me watching you, and you look really about now." Wonbin's eyes pointed out the tent in your pants.

"You're hot! Super hot! I'm just..."

Wonbin tucked his hair behind one ear. "Say it for me to hear. Speak clearly."

"I'm still... a virgin."

Wonbin froze in shock. "You came here, a full-on virgin?"

You nodded, embarrassment starting to color your face. "No one's even seen it before."

"It? You mean your cock?" Wonbin laughed. "You've never taken a dick pic before, or anything?"

You shook your head.

Wonbin's energy changed. It felt less like a sexual panther, ready to pounce, and more like a sensual snake. It was clear that Wonbin was charged, but he could tell you weren't ready to drive over the edge just yet.

Wonbin sat on the bed. "So level with me. Have you had an orgasm? Like have you jerked off?" His tone was curious and playful.

You rubbed your fingers together, not answering him. "Well... I've tried, but it felt weird..."

"How so?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you..." You confessed in a soft whisper.

"That's not a bad thing! People jerk off to hot people all the time, that's what porn is for. I'm honestly flattered, so don't feel embarrassed." Wonbin approached you again, taking your face in your hands. "Let's take it slower then. Can I kiss you, y/n?"

It felt like a dream hearing Wonbin call you by your name. You nodded, closing your eyes and letting your lips connect softer this time.

Wonbin led, moving his lips gently so you could pick on the timing. He stroked your neck and gently pulled you into him, moaning into the kiss. Once you showed you could handle it, he moved your hands to hold his hips and moved to sit in the chair on your lap.

You separated again. His lips were pinkish and cute.

"Can I touch you, y/n?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"Words." He commanded.

"Y–Yes, please touch me, Wonbin." You replied, embarrassed to say it aloud.

Wonbin reinitiated the kiss and let his hands run over your shoulders and down your back, pushing against your muscles as they tensed from his touch. They slowly dragged down into your lap.

Wonbin pulled awake again. "Before we keep going, now's the time to speak. What do you want exactly?"

Your mouth was dry when you opened it to speak. "I–I don't know if I can go all the way, but I also want to make you happy and please you. So I'll do whatever you think is–"

Wonbin placed his finger on your lips. He stood and stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his hands, and slowly stripped off his pants. Leaving him in his underwear.

Somehow your dick got even harder, the strain against your pants almost pleasurable.

Wonbin came back to you and sat down on your lap, laying his back against you and sitting perfectly on your clothed member. He took one of your hands and guided it to his underwear, letting it slide underneath the waistband.

You felt his cock, warm and squishy in your hands but hard at the same time. It was different from yours, it felt pretty. Slender, and about five inches. Wonbin guided you, moving your hand up and down, stroking him. When he let go of your hand, you continued to move earning moans of pleasure from him. His legs shook and he pushed against you, his ass rubbing against your dick in your pants.

Wonbin made a rhythm. Every time to stroked him, he'd push against you. A push and pull, giving you both pleasure. You could see a wet spot at his tip in his underwear. Curiously, you poked it and precum stuck on your finger, using it while you stroked him.

"Oh, improvising is good. I like that!" Wonbin purred.

"C-Can I see it?" You whispered.

Wonbin giggled. He lifted his lips and slid his underwear down enough for his cock to spring out, with your hand wrapped around its base.

Watching your hand work over Wonbin, and his reactions to you touching him were like magic to you. You focused on his tip, making his whole body shake and tense.

"Oh, fuck! If you do that, I'll cum fast..." Wonbin warned. "How about you, how are you feeling?"

You loved every ounce he gave you. It itched and burned in just the right places and feeling Won's body against yours was heaven with his sing-song voice moaning in your ears.

"I'm gonna lose it. It feels really hot like I'm gonna pee. But it's not exactly pee?"

Wonbin smiled. "Oh? You're close, are you? I'm right here, so go ahead and finish. It's gonna be amazing."

You trusted Wonbin, letting your body control everything. Your hips pushed forward to meet Wonbin grinding against you as you felt the pressure get worse. You couldn't help but bury your head into Wonbin's neck, softly biting and letting the feeling wash over you as your body stiffened all over you. You cock twitched again and again, shooting cum inside your pants. You didn't realize you were squeezing Wonbin so tight until you felt his cum leaking down your hand.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath.

"I wasn't exacting the biting," Wonbin moaned.

"I–I'm sorry. It just happened."

"No, it was amazing. You did amazing..." Wonbin stood up. "You may want to take those off before it dries, by the way..."

You got nervous again. "Are you going to watch?"

"Y/n. You're not leaving until we fuck. But we have all night, so we don't have to rush."

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

A lot of people will be spending more time with their families of origin in the next few weeks.

And when you're with people you've spent so much time around in the past, it can be easy to fall into old habits and social role dynamics without really noticing, and without evaluating whether those patterns are reflective of the values we have now.

So with that in mind, I'd like to gently suggest taking a closer look at your family's interactions and see whether there are patterns you're part of that you don't want to be and could potentially do something to disrupt.

For example, is there anyone:

your family routinely treats as faintly ridiculous or hysterical?

or whose ideas, opinions, or interests are automatically dismissed by the group when those same things would be worthy of consideration/discussion from someone else?

or who gets teased and made fun of more than others, or past the point where they seem to be having fun?

or who is expected to do a disproportionately large amount of work that others could be helping with?

or who is consistently left out of group activities and is not asked if they'd like to join this time? (Do they think you'd be happy if they did join in?)

or who is automatically treated like "the problem" in any conflict they're in, regardless of whether they initiated the conflict or were being reasonable or not?

or who makes/has made repeated requests that some reasonable boundary be respected that is habitually ignored, belittled, or argued with?

or who habitually speaks or acts in unkind or unloving ways and gets minimal pushback, and/or minimal concern for the targets of their unkindness, because "that's just how they are"?

Or is there maybe:

a gender, racial, and/or class/income, etc., divide in who in your family does how much cooking/cleaning/kinship work?

a difference in who leads dinnertable conversations and whose input, interests, opinions, etc., are more valued/respected?

a difference in whose job or home life is worthy of being asked about?

automatic assumptions about people's interests, skills, life experiences, etc., that haven't been updated in years? Is anyone trying to build connections and find out more about who each of you are now?

Group social dynamics are always complicated, and perhaps never more so than in families. I'm not in your family, and I don't know the complicated contexts between each of the members. I also don't know how you'd like your family interactions to go, or if you're even spending time together willingly or unwillingly. Maybe this post will be helpful to you, maybe not.

But if you want your family to interact in more loving ways, sometimes as adults or even teenagers there ARE things we can do to interrupt patterns people are participating in without even noticing!

We can start helping with work we're not expected to participate in, and we can ask others who don't participate to take on part of the task. (In many families, a man standing up and starting to clear away the dishes and saying, "Brian, would you mind grabbing the green beans and the mac and cheese?" would be out of the ordinary if the women usually do that, but (in many families) people would go along with it once suggested.)

We can try to bring neglected others into conversation by asking and genuinely listening to their thoughts and opinions.

We can speak up when someone's interrupted and insist that we want to hear the rest of their thought.

We can take seriously the person treated like a joke, and show others that we're taking them seriously.

We can say "I don't think we need to discuss people's bodies here" or "not cool, dude" and redirect the conversation when someone is unkind.

Sometimes we can take people aside and ask them to ease up on a person being teased. Sometimes saying "I think it's actually hurting their feelings" or "it's not funny anymore, let up" is enough to actually make a difference.

We can ask about someone's job, interests, home life, hobbies etc., when they are usually left out of being asked.

We can try to remember that people aren't fixed in stone, and try to get to know who people are now without making too many assumptions.

Sometimes harmful patterns can be interrupted just by pointing them out and making an effort to not participate in them anymore.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Please a OPLA Sanji x fem shyreader magic user? The crew caught them making out ☺️☺️

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hello Anon ! Thank you for your request, I admit it gave me some kind of problem since I'm the exact opposite of shy, but I had fun trying to wonder how it look like and how Sanji would succeed to make himself understand without scaring the reader. I hope you will like it !

The Magic of a Kiss

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering - NSFW The Small Favor - SFW The Mermaid Dream

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

—

From as far as you could remember, you're always been able to make the object around you levited . A power who had created a lot of fun games and yes, a few childish misfits. But, it was your family heritage and you couldn’t be more proud to have inherited it. 

Based in a small village near the water, populated mostly by other magical folks, your family had a small shop you never truly learned to love. Your interest was more in the water and the many ships sailing on it. It's why one day, after a heated argument about your lack of implication in the family business, you decide to leave for the city.  

Shy by nature, you weren't the kind to show off, even if as a magic user, your power would have opened many doors ordinary people couldn’t even dream of reaching. But, after a few disastrous interactions, when even meeting the gaze of the Captain was above your force. You finally meet Luffy and his straw hat crew. 

Their warm approach toward you and your power made you quickly feel more comfortable. But, as they tried to get to know you more, you could stop yourself from feeling nervous to open up and bore them. You usually end up silently smiling,fidgeting your fingers, listening to their fantastique adventure and executing the heavy duty since gravity isn't a problem for you. As the time passes, they all accept your shyness, still including you in their conversation and other activities. 

Sanji was by far your favorite member of the crew, to not say you had a pretty hard crush on him. Things who’s even more complicated the task to answer him as he asks you the simplest question or tries to make you happy by cooking your favorite dishes. Of course, the blond chef would never make fun of your betterave red cheeks and often stutter, but he couldn’t help himself to flirt with you. He never had seen something more cute than your reaction as you enjoy his food and he had to admit that nothing makes him more proud than the way you look at him when you thought nobody saw you. 

It’s why one evening, as you were helping Usopp to repair the mainmast, effortlessly sending him the multiple parts of wood he needed. Sanji took place at your side, lighting a cigarette nonchalantly.

“ It amazes me each time watching you use your talent Madam“ He confessed, watching absently the plank of wood gaining altitude. “ Isn’t it exhausting to keep control of the object ?” 

“ No…I just think of it and…then they float…” You replied, already feeling the tips of your ears warming.You would for nothing share with anyone, the humiliated time it takes you to learn how to push them in the right direction and stop before reaching your face.  

“ Oh, so you have to think at every separated item to make them fly…But what happens if you aren’t in a situation to think, like say overwhelmed ? “ His tone, serious, but clearly flirting. Even if you could feel a trap, you couldn’t think of a single time when you could become so self absorbed that you couldn’t even think. “ Like let's say we kiss, will all the objects of the room start to levitate or just our heart ? “ 

The loud “ BAM “ of the plank slamming against the lower desk makes you jump, you face bright red. Up in the air, Usopp asked what happened, worried that something had occurred to you. It push as well Zoro and Nami out of the own preoccupation, concern if it was a normal noise of a sign of a near danger.With the warrant on Luffy head, your Captain who’s right now was snoring somewhere, they didn’t take any  chance.  

“ Sanji ! Don’t tease me like that…please ! “ You plead, your gaze fixed on the floor, embarrassment clearly making you want to disappear on the floor.  

“ I’m not teasing, I’m truly curious to know…We should try one day” He proposed, a smile playing on his lips as he finished his smoke before heading back to the kitchen “ I make your favorite breakfast tomorrow don’t miss it please”

That conversation spined in your head for at least a few weeks before you accept the meaning of it. Sanji had in his smooth way, confessed his affection for you and waited for you to be ready to do the same. Meantime, he didn’t push you further more, dosing his usual flirt and neither talked about it in front of the others, knowing clearly how you would be mortified. 

Until that day. 

The crew had stopped the ship alongside an island reminding you of pictures of jungle you often saw in exploration books. Each taking a different path to explore the village and his surrendering, you quickly become bored and decide to come back to the ship, certain that you were alone aboard. 

It was why the sound of metal brushing against what seemed to be the same component took you by surprise. Making your way to the kitchen, you discover Sanji, already busy cracking eggs in a bowl. Lifting his head, he smiled as he discarded the empty shell. 

“ Already back ? Are you hungry? I am planning to make an omelet for dinner, but i’m not sure if the other will be back so I will make small ones. “ 

Nodding slowly, watching nervously around you, you decided that if you had to respond to his previous invitation it was now or never. 

“ Sanji I…I...You remember that…you know that conversation...about...my talent and...Kiss…” You succeed to say, your hand sweating against your pants.

“ Yes, I remember” He replied, careful to not scare you away.

“ I would like to try…” You finally quickly confessed, your whole body burning like if you had a fever.

Washing his hand with the rag hanging on his shoulder, Sanji gently smiles contouring the kitchen island to place himself in front of you. Putting delicately your chin between his thumbs and his index, he lowered his head trying to meet your evasive gaze. 

“ I would like to see your pretty eyes Madam before kissing you “ He demanded, as you nervously turned your gaze to meet him. “ Much better” He smiled. 

His lips meet yours with tenderness, as his other hand makes himself a home on your hip. Slowly, you closed your eyes, making yourself melt in the multiples sensation of his soft mouth against yours, followed after a certain time by the teasing of his teeth nibbling your bottom lips. Your tongue quickly follows his invitation, brushing against each other, as you hand find their way to his broad shoulder. 

Inclining your head slightly higher to accommodate your difference of height, you instantly reach again for his lips, not wanting to let him go yet. 

Lost in the moment, you didn’t hear the rest of the crew come back, dinner being an abstract place in time way ahead of the feeling of Sanji against you. 

“ WOAH Y/N you can make people levitate now, that’s so cool ! “ You heard Luffy exclaim as Nami, knowing how embarrassed you should be, tried to drag him out. 

Feeling the floor meet your feet, as the cacophony of gravity regain his control of every none fixed item in the room, you promptly separated yourself of Sanji, who’s for once, was as much blushing as you do. 

“ I guess that means dinner isn't ready, “ Zoro said, unmoved by what he just saw, already taking his place at the table alongside Luffy. 

“ Guys we should maybe go eat somewhere else “ Nami tried, eyeing you hoping that it wouldn't push you to close up yourself more. 

“ No need Nami,  dinner almost ready just, give me just a minute “ Sanji protest regaining his composure before clearing his throat, whispering gently to you “ Now since we know that you make float everything around you and everyone you kiss…please Darling, let me be the only one to fly with you” 

Blushing even more, you couldn't resist laughing in front of the embarrassing but joyful event.

“ I swear “ You promised, already excited for the next time.

[accio-victuuri]

i’m someone who can’t get enough of (fake) stories from the time of cql shoot. so when i see a “story” that i haven’t before ( or maybe i did but forgot about it ), i get excited. lol. even if it’s not a juicy kind of information— i’m cool with it. 🤍 i like this one cause OP seems closer to wyb, it’s more of a short analysis of him & his relationship with XZ during that time.

the usual disclaimer: these are all fake and treat it as fanfiction. obviously, this content is for cpfs. if you don’t like it then scroll along. if you are somehow offended by stuff like this, it’s your problem. feel free to unfollow or block me.

i got the screenshots over here. enjoy!^^

W often catches up on sleep as soon as he gets on the car because he has a lot of engagements. He doesn’t talk much. Last year, he was not in good health. He had a cough and fever and went to get an IV drip at night. Many fans knew about it, so he talked even less in private. Later, I found that he talked a lot on the set. This is a matter of opinion. He needs to refresh himself when he is so tired.

But he does have a good relationship with X. He is not very outgoing, so he should not have many friends, but he is not the kind of person who really looks down on others and does not talk. Many times he does not know what to say (personal feeling hahaha), so he does not start a conversation. Some people are like this, thinking that it may not be meaningful to say it, so they do not say it. He has changed a lot in recent years, and this drama he has successfully made friends with X.

W didn’t communicate much with me. After all, we had never met before, so I could understand the distance. Once, I was discussing tomorrow’s arrangements with the coordinator. He had just finished shooting a scene and passed by me and suddenly asked me if I had a hemostatic patch (this is a consumable item in the crew, and I had just used it up and didn’t bring a new one). I was shocked. I said no, and he didn’t say anything and seemed to go to the bathroom. Later, I don’t know where he asked, but it was a very girly pattern. I feel that he may have asked around, but I didn’t see him use it. That day, I saw a new hemostatic patch on X’s leg, but it wasn’t the one that was used by the transporter?! When I was chatting with the coordinator, I found out that someone had given it to X first, and W saw it and quietly put away the one with the girly pattern. At that time, he had just joined the crew not long ago. Because we were really not familiar with each other, he might have felt that it was too obvious and a bit embarrassing.

W and X have a lot of scenes together. As the main characters, they interact a lot, much more than what is shown. X is not as talkative as the footage shows. On the contrary, he is a person who cares about other people's feelings. In the footage, we can only say that he was: 1. He fainted from the heat (he almost had a heat stroke), 2. He was too tired, and 3. He didn't expect that everyone would exaggerate it. W was the same. He was just joking and making faces, just like everyone would have some such pranks when they were in school. When he felt something was wrong, he quickly changed the subject.

The main reason was that it was really tiring and hot at that time. Every time I went to the scene, I felt that I could get a heat stroke at any time. They also wore long robes with wide sleeves, which was very hard (W didn't dare to eat too much to maintain the fairy feeling of the character) In short, although this matter fermented a lot, it did not have any substantial impact on the relationship between the two. At that time, the crew also knew that this was their childish behavior and was used to it. After all, they were like this all the time. The two are ordinary people who are more casual in private. If they have a good relationship, they will definitely play around, but they will not be fussy about such trivial matters. W's personality is very interesting. He will suddenly act weird and then return to being calm. When he acts weird, he acts seriously. When he is silent, he is serious. I later thought that this kind of personality may have something to do with his love of street dance, motorcycles, and skateboards. Whether it is physical, emotional, endurance, psychological quality or anything else, he wants to try to touch or even challenge the upper limit in all aspects. He is a true adventurer. Most of these people are quite opinionated. He also said that he is a male chauvinist and has a strong desire to control himself and the outside world.

A double-edged sword, not a weakness. Being serious is good, but it is always difficult for people to grasp the precise degree. If you exceed the limit, you will develop a conditioned reflex of vigilance, which will prevent you from revealing too much of yourself, and on the other hand, you will be wary of outsiders' attempts.

This kind of self-defense is actually related to his experience. One is that he left home very early to work hard, and the other is that he went to Korea for training. You must have heard about the trainee system there, which is fiercely competitive and full of intrigues, and it is easy to fail. Many young trainees don’t have much life experience. No matter how cautious they are at the beginning, they may not be able to play better than the older or Korean people. The habit of not offending others for many years has become one of his personality. I am not so familiar with W, so it is difficult to remind him, but I found that he has improved in his relationship with X. It is very subtle. It is generally a good thing. Hahaha. Maybe it is also due to experience. X’s past is relatively simple. He entered the circle a few years after graduating from college. Before entering the circle, it was relatively smooth. It’s not that he has never experienced setbacks and lows, but it is definitely not as shaky and cautious as W faced during adolescence. It directly changed a person. I believe that W is still a positive and enthusiastic person in his heart, but he doesn’t show it easily. He needs someone to guide him.

What I really found strange was one time when the two of them were standing on a downhill slope. The scene was built in a studio and was a bit high. X walked in front of W and slipped. There was a few steps between the two of them. W rushed forward in two steps and quickly grabbed X's waist. They both almost slipped. He intended to grab his arm with his fingers spread out, but he miscalculated and poked X's lower back. We shot that scene in two or three takes and it was passed. After that, W's hand was a little swollen. I found some ice cubes to apply to him and it stopped swelling, but it looked painful. There were still a few scenes that day, but he didn't tell me because he didn't want to delay the progress. He applied ice when he left the camera. Because he had to go to the hospital for an IV drip after work, I thought I would deal with it together.

The strangest thing about this incident was not his behavior, but that X did not see W come down to apply ice, and came over to ask if his hand was okay. W directly stretched out his hand to show him, twisting it vigorously, shaking his fingers flexibly, trying to prove that he was fine, but X grabbed his wrist and looked at it clearly. X said that it was swollen, and W said it was caused by the intravenous drip. X muttered a few words of doubt, and saw that there were indeed many needle holes on the back of W's hand. He believed it a little. I was about four or five meters away at the time.

The director often asked them to be more ambiguous. At the beginning, it was quite awkward because they were not familiar with each other, but it was fine after they got used to it. X made a lot of small moves, and W would shout his name when he couldn't stand it anymore. W was very smart and could find the door. He didn't lose to X at the beginning. It was forbidden to move. It was common for them to insult and fight each other.

Many people are talking about the drinking scene, so I'll share another one. After the day's shooting, W took off his makeup and walked unsteadily. After walking out of the studio, he was looking for something. I said the car was over there (the exit was narrow and the car was a little further away). He said he knew, and then he turned around and pounced behind me, which scared me. I subconsciously turned around and hid, and found that X also came out, but he hadn't taken off his makeup yet. W stuck to him like an octopus. X was also scared, and his wig was pulled by W, and X screamed in pain. His assistant came out the next second and quickly pulled W away. I reacted and supported W. X was not angry, and told me that W had secretly drunk some more later and might be really drunk, so he asked me to make some honey water for him to sober up. I said okay, thinking where would I find honey water in the middle of the night. W is very thin, but very strong. X's assistant couldn't pull him away completely.

I am a little anxious, but I can’t say anything, I can only worry.

X was in a good mood, and cheerfully patted him and said, "Isn't W laoshi known for not getting drunk even if he drinks a lot?"

W didn't refute, and hugged him so tightly that I felt X was about to suffocate, and then X said: "It's late, see you tomorrow." W let go as if he had suddenly lost his temper, reluctant to let go, wanting to look at X but not daring to. I don't know why, but I felt that he was a little sad.

X joked with him: "Go back after you graduate from kindergarten.

W said sullenly: "I will definitely beat you next time."

X changed his tone of voice and complained: "W wants laoshi to win everything. save me from losing a few times, okay?"

I went back to the hotel and asked X's assistant who the winner was. She said that the two of them competed to see who could talk in the other's ear without blushing, and the loser would drink a small sip. I was speechless. No wonder he rarely played mobile games last night, and went to sleep after chatting on WeChat (he got off work earlier yesterday). It turned out that he was saving his energy to play this today (wrong). I asked again, "No one took the photo (mainly referring to the fans who were waiting there.)" She said that it should not be possible, because the place where the two people were standing was difficult to take a photo.

-END.

[awkward-walking-potato]

hi i saw you were open for gambit requests! maybe a gender-neutral reader who is insecure about their appearance and doesnt expect people to be nice to them, only for Gambit to fall head-over-heels immediately upon seeing them and try to rizz them up, much to reader's surprise

Extraordinarily ordinary

The X-Mansion was as lively as ever, with the team gathering in the common room after a long day of missions and training. You had joined them recently, still adjusting to the new environment and feeling somewhat out of place. You had always been a bit insecure about your appearance, not used to being the center of attention and struggling to believe that anyone would notice you, let alone show any interest.

You kept to the edges of the room, observing the interactions and trying to blend in. You were used to being overlooked, to feeling like you didn’t quite fit in with the crowd. So when Remy LeBeau, one of the most charming and confident members of the team, walked in, you didn’t think much of it. You admired him from afar, but you never imagined he’d take any notice of you.

Remy was the picture of effortless charisma. He greeted everyone with that trademark smile of his, his presence immediately commanding attention. When his eyes landed on you, however, there was a spark of something different—something that caught him off guard. He paused, his gaze lingering as if he had just discovered something truly fascinating.

For a moment, you felt self-conscious under his scrutiny, but before you could retreat further into the background, Remy made his way over to you with a confidence that bordered on magnetic.

“Evenin’, chérie,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I gotta say, I’ve been lookin’ for a reason to come over here, and it looks like the universe has finally delivered.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden approach and the directness of his compliment. “Um, hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect you to... notice me.”

Remy’s smile widened, and he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Notice you? How could I not? You’ve got this quiet, unique charm that just draws a person in. Plus, it’s rare to see someone so genuine amidst all the chaos.”

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. You had never been one to attract attention, especially not from someone as striking as Remy. “I’m just... trying to fit in, really.”

Remy’s expression softened, and he reached out, gently touching your arm. “Well, you’re doin’ more than just fit in. You’re standin’ out, and that’s somethin’ special. How about we get to know each other a little better?”

His touch was warm and reassuring, making you feel a mix of surprise and intrigue. You hadn’t expected anyone, let alone someone like Remy, to show such genuine interest. “I don’t usually get this kind of attention,” you admitted, trying to keep your composure.

“Then let me be the first to change that,” Remy said, his tone light and flirtatious. “I’ve got a knack for findin’ the extraordinary in the ordinary, and you’re lookin’ pretty extraordinary to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a bit nervous but genuine. “You’re not really what I expected.”

Remy’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, that’s a good thing, ain’t it? I’m full of surprises, and I’ve got a feelin’ you are too.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself opening up more, his effortless charm and kind words easing your nerves. Remy’s attention was unwavering, his compliments sincere, and his interest genuine. It was clear that he was head-over-heels for you, despite your own doubts and insecurities.

By the end of the evening, you felt a newfound sense of confidence, thanks to Remy’s unexpected and heartfelt approach. As you both said your goodbyes, he took your hand gently, his touch lingering just a moment longer.

“If you ever need someone to remind you how special you are,” he said softly, “I’m your guy.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with your usual insecurities. “Thank you, Remy. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone like you.”

Remy’s grin was infectious. “Well, looks like fate decided to surprise us both.”

As you walked away, you felt a new sense of possibility, knowing that someone as charming and sincere as Remy saw something in you that you had trouble seeing in yourself. And for the first time, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were worth noticing after all.

[st4rhwa]

𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗧 k. hj

김홍중 | playboy!kim hongjoong x afab!reader smut, light angst, fluff

synopsis: much like recycled stardust, no matter how far you drift from hongjoong, you'll always find your way back into his arms.

cw: university!au, deliberate lower case, smut, angst, fluffy ending, reader has feminine attributes, ex boyfie joong, push-and-pull kind of relationship, it's not toxicity i promise, hongjoong's a little bit ooc, brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, making out, pet names (baby, princess, joong(ie)), empty threats

wc: 5.7k

𝗮/𝗻: first tumblr fic ! this might be kind of messy ?? i'm still in the learning process of everything lol inspired by: i'm yours (isabel larosa)

sw: unprotected sex, switch!joong, switch! reader, desperate make up sex/kind of hate sex?, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, i really did try to start this blog off with a soft fic but i couldn't help myself

"-you'll come, right?"

just a normal interaction, is what you kept telling yourself. it's nothing special, nowhere near the sort. just a conversation. nothing out of the ordinary.

that's what it would have been if kim hongjoong, your ex boyfriend, hadn't been the one to stop you in the middle of the road to convince you it'd be a good idea to attend his party next saturday. because i mean come on. sex? alcohol? ket? shrooms? please. that's child's play.

but how he's so relaxed around you cognisant of the long history the two of you share, you'll never know.

"i would but.." your witless muttering isn't doing anything for you other than digging your grave. his keen gaze makes your palms sweat; is it the comical height difference or the general attention he seems to be adamant to give you?

"come on," he whines. "i could convince anyone else in the world other than you to go. why do you always make it so difficult?" "not my thing," you should know that, is what you would have liked to add. "sorry." making tracks however, obviously wasn't justifiable in his books. immediately reaching for your wrist, you don't make it much further than two steps before he locks you back in his gaze.

"come on, y/n," "i don't-" "please? i'd really like you to be there." your eyes snap up to his, and the way he looks at you so enticingly makes you want to crawl up into a ball and die.

you hate the fact that he has you in the palm of his hand. especially because he knows it too.

"my ass." you mumble, shoving past another group of people. you're sweating, trying to weave yourself through the crowds of intoxicated young adults mingling, drinking and swaying to the music. you hate it. you hate it so much it's unbearable.

your friends squeeze you into a mini dress and cake you in makeup, just to leave you five minutes into the party to fuck some junkie they'll never talk to ever again. and kim hongjoong? he's nowhere to be found.

your entire being reverberates in time with the heavy bass line of whatever fusion afro beats were playing in the living room. in times like these, the kitchen becomes your safe haven; surrounded by countless bottles of alcohol for you to mix and match as you wish, only seeing the occasional person enter who'd greet you and refill their cup.

you wince when you begin to find the music has become much more bass accelerated, and you decide you need a breather. you would have guessed hongjoong would have retreated upstairs with a girl by now. you guess wrong, however, when your eyes briefly meet his in the midst of the sea of bodies.

his eyes are wide, puppy like, vivid colours reflecting in his pupils. he looks at you expectantly, ignoring the people trying to catch his recognition left and right. he opens his mouth, as if about to say something, before a girl tugs on his arm, sidetracking his attention again.

you keep your head low, shaking it as you run a hand through your hair. you make it through the living room, the foyer through to the dining room, and make a quick move to lock yourself in the bathroom noticing it's vacancy.

the door acts as a soundproof wall, concealing you from all the commotion, the chaos. what was the point of showing up anyway? you had false hope - nothing was going to happen between the two of you even if you got down on your hands and knees and begged.

in truth, kim hongjoong is a coward. it doesn't matter how hard he tries to deny it, it's simply his thing. he makes a move, poised and mighty. but once the conviction begins to fade he shrivels into nothing more than a drop in the ocean, and hides his uneasiness by picking up another side chick. one moment he loves you, the next, he doesn't.

you shake your head, hands resting on either side of the sink. your heart is racing rapidly, and you feel pathetic. you feel pathetic because you know that your cheeks are red because of him. your palpitating heart is because of him. your thighs pressing together is all because of him.

you hate him, is what you keep telling yourself. you hate him and his reckless actions, his arrogance, his popularity, his likeability, his devilish smile, his handsome face, his perfect body- fuck. that's not it. you don't hate him. you hate how much you love him, how deeply you fell for his charms.

your index finger drags along your aegyo sal, wiping away smudged mascara and eyeliner. your eyes settle in the mirror dragging over your worn expression, and you sigh. it'd probably be best if you left before it got too late.

you jump slightly when there are a few desperate bangs at the door. "c'mon! gotta fuckin' piss-" you snatch your phone from the shelf, frantically unlocking the door and pushing it open, running off before you could face any confrontation.

maybe you were just a coward too.

you immediately approach the adjacent door which leads to the garden. reaching for the handle, you swing it open and slam it closed behind you before anyone else could follow. your back rests against the cool glass, and you exhale softly, finally being able to find some peace and quiet in the midst of the clamour.

you catch your breath, pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening it to call an uber.

"i was almost convinced you weren't gonna show."

your eyes clamp shut. make it a nightmare. make it some sort of weird twisted dream. maybe someone spiked your drink - perhaps you were just hallucinating.

you blink once, twice, before hongjoong's index finger catches your chin. "hey. look at me." you can barely pick out his features, the dim lights emitting from the inside of his dining room just barely illuminating his cheekbones. "stop-.. running, from me.." he sighs out at the sight of your uncomfortable facial expression, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. he continues, before you can stop to think, "i try to talk to you, we give it a go, you regret ever giving it a go and run off, and this whole cycle repeats itself." his hands drift to your shoulders, down your sides before finding welfare on your hips. "and i don't think that's fair.."

his soft and rich tone makes your shoulders relax, and your head leans back, gently bumping against the door. "talk to me." you pull yourself together and shake your head, pushing him off you. "you talk like it's just me doing all the running. that's pretty ballsy coming from you," the way he looks at you tells you he knows that. better than anyone else. "and why does it matter anyway. go back inside, it's your party. bet your side chick's already waiting for you."

to your dismay, his hands reach for you again. he ignores your snarky comments, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, forehead bumping against yours. his eyes are large; doe-like. they're nothing short of innocent, but you're not blind to the small flames kindling within his pupils.

"i want to know why you're ignoring me. why you've stopped loving me so abruptly." his eyes fall shut and his eyelashes tickle your forehead. "otherwise i might have to make you tell me.." he tilts his head ever so slightly, soft, pillowy lips brushing against yours. "hongjoong.." your voice only comes out in the form of a whisper, and it makes hongjoong nod softly. "shh baby.. i've got you, it's okay."

"i don't-" "what happened, y/n? just abruptly telling me you're breaking up with me and then avoiding me for weeks on end isn't you. you're better than this!" "you're not right for me, hongjoong!" shit. that came out wrong. like that, the flames in his pupils douse. hongjoong's shoulders droop and his hands fall, but his eyes stay glued to yours. "no," you shake your head, rephrasing. "i'm not right for you."

"what makes- what makes you say that?" "listen to me closely, hongjoong." he wished you'd use his name in a brighter light. "i'm not right for you." "you're repeating the same shit but you're not telling me what it fucking means!" he rips away from you, a hand tugging through his hair. "what the fuck happened?! i thought we were doing well i-, i made sure you knew i loved you and i tried to make time for you-" "that's my problem! you're too busy- you've got no time for me! you've got dance, singing, producing, all these fucking parties! where does that leave me? does it make me love you any less? no! but i can't afford to be neglected by you!"

hongjoong's mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to wrack his brain for something- anything! but deep down he knows you're right. he's busy, he can barely catch a break. and then off he goes throwing parties when he should be spending time with you. but somehow, 90% of what you say goes through one ear and out the other-

"you still, love.. me?" you scoff. "of course i do. but i just.. think it's better if you move on an-" "why do i have to move on when i haven't lost anything?" a smile grows on his face, and he grips your wrists excitedly. "i- i thought you hated me! and-" "are you not grasping anything i'm saying right now!" you yell over his excited yapping. "i'm saying!-" he quiets down to a soft pause. "-..you need to find someone who suits your needs better."

you barely register his sudden movements as he bursts forward, taking your cheeks in his hands as he slams his lips against yours. his eyes roll back as he sighs into your mouth. god how he's missed the feeling. he presses his body flush against yours, revelling in the feeling of, well, you. your addictive lips, your sleek hair, your compelling curves, he basks in you.

you try to break away, but your body seems to have other plans, arching into him. "hongjoong-" it's not longer than a second before he once again encapsulates your lips with his. you try to make out a sentence between desperate kisses. "we- .. we- shouldn't-" his front teeth graze your bottom lip, and he pulls you nice and tight against him, just the way you like it.

you would have made more of an effort to flee if it didn't feel so fucking good. his hands never cease to wander your body like it's an uncharted island in the pacific ocean. if they're not massaging your waist, they're sliding up and down your exposed back. if they're not sliding up and down your exposed back, they're groping your ass. he just can't get enough of you- of how intoxicating you are.

"hongjoong for fucks sak-" "shh." he smirks softly against your lips. he knows that bit by bit, little by little, you're giving in to him. or more, the idea of him. you melt into his hold, whining a little at an attempt to show your frustration. but he just coos mockingly, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. your right leg naturally hikes up against his hip, and he holds it in place with his vacant hand. "so good for me," his lips part and he kisses your nose. "such a good girl."

you can't believe this is happening. you're internally sour, trying to search for any reason left in this bottomless pit of lust you're drowning in. you can feel it rising inside of you, and it'll swallow you up eventually.

you don't think you've ever wanted him so bad. in fact, you don't think you've ever wanted anyone as badly as you do right now. you have to have him. otherwise it might just eat you alive.

"do you want-.." he's breathless, making sure your eyes never leave his. he's stuttering over his words, suddenly finding himself shrink under your gaze; it almost makes you smile. "uh- no pressure, by the way i-" your finger gently drags along the surface of his lip, deep red nail getting caught in the dip between them. you whisper softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "let's go."

sneaking away could have definitely been easier if hongjoong didn't always blatantly stick out like a neon highlighter in a tub of black markers. man of the hour or not, he can't help being stopped and pinched into conversations left and right and your patience is thinning. "hongjoong.." you mumble, and he nods profusely towards you in apology, excusing himself to his mates and bidding them a good night.

"aye! hongjoong, over here!" "hey guys!-" you pinch his elbow, pressing your lips to his ear. "go over to one more person and you'll get it." he feels himself twitch in his pants, but he just rolls his eyes and smiles at you with a satirising tone. "c'mon babe!~ it's 3RACHA! i can't just ignore 3RACHA!" he tries to shake away the thoughts nagging him to turn back in his head, releasing his arm from your wrist and jogging towards them. so much for not neglecting me. your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, and you swing back around, making a beeline for the stairwell.

you're aware of hongjoong's strict rule of the second floor being prohibited during parties, but regardless of it you sneak past the numerous couples humping one another in the hallway, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom.

you exhale softly with your forehead pressed to the door, hand resting on the golden handle. you shouldn't be this nervous. it's only been a few months, you used to spend more time here than you did in your own apartment. but once you step into the room and shut the door, the overwhelming scent of him leaves you dumbfounded. your shaky hand drifts to the handle in a moment of diffidence, but you shake your head, and do nothing more than wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your dress.

you kick off your heels, feet dragging along the the off-grey carpet flooring as you trail over to his king sized bed. the satin sheets are cold against your lower thighs, and your hands gently grip the lush material. your eyes drift over his walls as you slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress: his desk, his wardrobe, nothing had changed. however, what does catch your eye is a bottle of your signature perfume on his shelf, nearing its last millilitres.

you have your suspicions, bringing his pillow up to your nose. you sigh softly at the faint smell of your perfume lingering all over it. you haven't used that brand since you were last here all those months ago. you shimmy off the rest of your dress leaving you in your red lace lingerie, and you stride over to the shelf and pick up the small glass bottle. you flick the cap off with your thumb, and spritz the scented spray all over your body and the sheets.

laying back into the duvet, you feel your core throb with wanting and need as the aged memories invade your mind. your hands wander, just like his. they trace your curves the way he would, almost like it's muscle memory. "mh, joong.." you whisper to yourself as your back arches off of the mattress, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side.

your hands fondle your breasts, and you let out the softest moan as your thumbs brush over your perky nipples. "hongjoong.." you whine the tiniest bit louder, hands hooking into your underwear and sliding them down your spread legs. sighing, your index and middle finger slip themselves between your folds, pushing them apart and lathering your wetness all over the digits. they slowly trace around your clit as you snatch your phone from the bedside table.

you would have never thought you'd be doing this again, but you open his archived chat left inactive for 5 months and click the camera in the bottom left corner. this was risky, and you'd be most likely to regret it. but nonetheless you begin recording, and whine softly into the phone. you feign innocence, pinching your clit softly between your fingers before you insert them both inside you. you gasp as you release an over exaggerated moan before hitting the send button.

you wait with a satisfied look on your face, watching one tick turn into two, from grey to blue. at that, your phone is forgotten, and your eyes flutter closed as you give your undivided attention to yourself.

hongjoong is becoming desperate. having to act like he didn't almost cream his pants at the sight of your wet pussy through his phone screen was tougher than he had originally imagined. he tucks his phone into his back pocket, trying to subtly adjust the baggy jeans hanging on his hips. while jisung and changbin eagerly talk to him, his eyes daintily drift to the side, catching seonghwa's gaze from the pool table.

seonghwa tilts his head, and hongjoong pats the side of his leg before tucking his index, middle and ring finger into his palm to form a phone sign. he holds it for two seconds before focusing back on the conversation he's having.

he thanks seonghwa indebtedly when it doesn't take much more than a blink of an eye before his phone vibrates in his back pocket. "sorry, i have to take this," he's apologetic, gesturing towards his phone. "have a good night guys!" he gives seonghwa a pat on the shoulder as he passes by, and seonghwa returns the gesture with a wink.

he can't resist himself as he walks through the hallway, opening the video again and feeling his cock throb violently in the confines of his jeans. he practically sprints up the stairs when you send another text: "you better hurry up or i'm leaving." it was a lie, obviously. hongjoong knew it too. but that didn't stop him from becoming overly eager.

he bursts through the door, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets at the sight of three fingers plunging in and out of your pussy, presented proudly out in the open for only his eyes to see, the erotic squelching sounds become apparent when he closes the door: "what took you so long," you sigh out accompanied by a breathy moan. "i'm sorry baby." he mumbles, already reaching for his belt as he kneels at the bed, unbuckling it and tossing it to the side.

"you should be," you pull your fingers out, using your clean hand to pull him into a sloppy, open mouthed, all teeth and saliva, kiss. "i'm expecting compensations." he pulls back with a grin, tugging his black tank top over his head. "of course, princess."

his knees straddle your hips, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. with his jeans already hanging so low on his hips, your feet make a move to slide them off to his ankles, he finishes the job off, discarding them on the floor. the beautiful, overbearing scent of your perfume makes him shiver, and he grips the sheets on either side of you, striving ever so hard as not to completely lose control of himself. he wants to take this slowly with you, enjoy the moment of finally having you back in his arms again.

or at least that's what he would have liked, but it seems you had other plans. "so, you gonna fuck me or what?" you exhale, arching up into him when his lips find your pebbled nipple, suckling gently as his hand gropes your unattended tit. he supposes he could wait to take it slow another time.

"patience," he grins, drifting down to your pelvis, deciding this is where he wanted to leave his mark. "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he nips, sucks, kisses, littering red, lip sized marks all over your pubic bone, making sure they would last at least a few days. your hand reaches down to grip his gelled back hair, and he groans softly as you tug on the strands. your legs spread as he makes himself comfortable between them, and he swears he almost cums in his boxers when your ankle moves to the back of his head, violently shoving him into your wet pussy.

he moans out, arms wrapping around your thighs as his lips make contact with your clit. you taste better than he ever remembers. sweet yet salty, flavourful, delicious. "mmh, that's good.." you whisper softly, and the praise makes hongjoong ever the more motivated to pleasure you. "am i good for you baby?" you grin and nod softly. "so good." he smirks and coats his index and middle finger in your slick before pushing them into your already stretched out hole.

and you know the second that his fingers, longer than yours, push and curl into you combined with his tongue lapping away at your clit, that you won't last long. more of your slick drips out and onto hongjoong's hand; you can't remember the last time you were so desperate. "missed you so much baby." he whines out, unable to resist rolling his hips once, twice, into the mattress, trying to alleviate the aching in his boxers. "so- so good hongjoong- shit," you stutter out in between gasps and whines, feeling that familiar pit in your pelvis when his fingers drill themselves against your g-spot.

the long suck to your nub that follows straight after is what throws you over the edge. you're just tinkering on the edge of an orgasm, and you know it when your legs begin to shake. "hongjoong! hongjoong- please! oh god- oh fuck i'm cumming," you thrash around, legs wrapping themselves around his head and suffocating him in your pussy.

hongjoong feels his hard cock positively twitch and leak like a broken faucet as translucent, salty liquid leaks out of you and onto his stuck out tongue. he hums appreciatively, chest puffing up with pride when he realises he made you cum with just his fingers and tongue. faster than ever before, too. he makes the lewdest slurping sounds with his tongue, drinking you up as if he were a feral, famished man. at this point, he might as well be one.

"good?" he asks with a toothy smile, his sharp canines peaking out through his swollen lips. "so good. so good for me, joongie.." you whisper to him, running a hand through his hair before tightening it, curling and tugging him towards you. his lips meet yours in a kiss much gentler than any of the ones exchanged earlier, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. your hands reach down to feel around the wet patch of his pre-cum on the front of his boxers, and you make a fast move to tug them down his legs, tossing them to the side before pulling him into your arms. "think you deserve a reward, baby?"

he nods so eagerly, you swear you see a tail wagging behind him as he hums keenly. "yeah?" you croon, enjoying watching him become desperate to please you and himself too. he doesn't even make an effort to hide how eager he is to slip into you and fall into a deep abyss of euphoria, brain filled with nothing other than praise and pleasure - and maybe a little white noise too. "what does my baby want?"

"to cum.." he mumbles, leaning down to nibble at your neck while his cold fingers drift down to where he had left his bruises on you, tracing them lovingly. it was almost primal, to him. to see you marked up. it reminded him that you truly did belong to him. "wan' make you cum too- wanna cum inside.." he twitches when your hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock. "i'm so fuckin' hard.. i wanna fuck you so fuckin' bad, baby." he begs breathlessly, thrusting up into your hand for more friction.

"you're so lucky i love you," you mutter under your breath, and his breath hitches as his dick simultaneously twitches in response. his stomach erupts into butterflies, but he tries to suppress the mushy feelings for the post-orgasm conversation he knows he'll end up having with you whether you like it or not.

"you really are just leaking aren't you? so messy." you tease, thumb swiping over his slit and he curls into you with a hiss, eyes falling shut. "sensitive today, are we?" you mumble, twisting your fist around his cock head again to draw another reaction from him. "been hard all day," he admits, head falling into the crook of your neck. "wanted to wait so i could fuck you." you shake your head with a chuckle. "so bold to automatically assume i'd let you fuck me."

hongjoong honestly believes he sees the gates of the afterlife appear in front of him when he finally feels your wet heat press against his cock. you drag your folds up and down the base of him, using a mixture of your cum, slick and his leftover saliva to lubricate him. "w-well i'm here now, aren't- aren't i?" you sigh, guiding his tip to your sopping hole. "eh, i guess so." your palms rest against his back when you slam his hips down onto you in one harsh movement. hongjoong's breath is knocked out of him at the unexpected movement, and his fingers grip your hips as he whines loud. "oh fuck-!"

you've missed him so badly. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart, you have him fully. you hum, head dropping back into the satin pillows. "that's it.. i've missed you, joong. missed this big cock so much." you don't think your cunt could ever get used to the delicious stretch his cock provides you with, with or without fingers beforehand. he just reaches that particular spot inside you that nobody else ever could, and it drives you absolutely mad with adoration.

but what snaps you out of your bliss is that you realise hongjoong has no plans of moving. his head just stays dipped into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your waist so hard the skin will positively bruise, panting hard. "hello?" you mumble, poking the side of his head. he grumbles out something unintelligible, and it makes you sigh, propping yourself up onto your elbows. "this pussy's not gonna fuck itself, is it?" your question is more rhetorical, but it makes hongjoong wince. "c-can't." his voice is strained, and you have an idea of why, yet you still choose to prod further. "what do you mean, 'you can't'?"

"feels too good.." he whispers, and you grin. admittedly, hongjoong is indeed, a very busy man. jobs, producing, lectures, dance classes, clubs, parties, he's everywhere doing everything all at once. but the most critical aspect of it all, was that he was loyal to you. he hadn't kissed, touched, or fucked a single other person since he last had you, holding onto that small slither of hope that he could win you back when the time was right.

that, however, now leaves him in a sticky - no pun intended - situation where he knows that if he doesn't pull himself together, he'll drain his balls within minutes of fucking you. "oh? poor baby.." you feign innocence, just for a few seconds before your legs wrap around his hips, beginning to grind up onto him in search of your own friction. "that's too bad."

hongjoong yelps, trying to ground himself by fisting his duvet into a death grip, little whimpers making it past his sealed lips. your hands take a hold of his hips, aiding you in your movements. "you gonna help me now, or what?" you grit out, and all he can do is shake his head frantically, bottom lip jutted out into a pout. "i- i'll cum baby- i can't!-" "so what? cum or not, we're not stopping until i do." he exhales shakily.

"so are you gonna be a good? or will i have to go find someone else who can fuck me right?" hongjoong grits his teeth, shaking his head and putting all of his body weight on you until you come to a stop, he experiments, thrusting up once, twice, before mumbling a soft: "okay.". you rub his back gently, whispering in return: "come on.."

the sudden snap of his hips catches you off guard. you squeak, hands frantically reaching for his biceps to ground yourself. "shit! th- that's it hongjoong! ngh-" he nods frantically, yanking your knees up to your chest to thrust even deeper. he groans, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to focus on how gorgeous you look beneath him, or how slick the sounds between you are, or how good your pussy feels, or how badly he wants to fucking cum.

he sets a brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass with every deep, meaningful thrust into you. "atta boy.. ohh baby i-" you gasp out, feeling the pad of hongjoong's thumb press down on your clit, rubbing up and down in synchronisation with his thrusts.

he pants hard and desperately it's almost concerning, lips parted and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he buries his head deep into the crook of your neck. you arch up into him, breasts pressing flush against his bare chest. your rhythmic clenching, the borderline salacious amount of wetness inside of you, the raking of your nails on his back, it's almost too much for him.

the longer he pursues you, the more he realises that he in fact, cannot wait, and will cum. he had tried not to too early, truly! but he had been close the second he walked into the damn room, and the amount of different versatile sensations he has no choice but to feel drive him over the edge. "baby- i can't- i can't i-" your legs wrap themselves around his hips, locking him in. "it's okay baby. go on. cum for me. fill me up."

with that, he's gone. you don't think you've ever seen him behave this way in the years you've known him. "oh godd yes- yes yes yes-" he's lewd, and he puts professional pornography to shame. the way he presents himself is obscene, head thrown back, eyes rolled into them. a staggered groan escapes him as he comes undone, his seed flowing inside of you as he gently rocks his hips, knuckles whiter than white with the pressure he's putting on the pillows either side of your head. you guide him through his orgasm, petting his hair softly.

his back glistens with beads of sweat among the moles and freckles dotted along his shoulder blades, and they flex as his arms slowly yet surely move to wrap around your torso. he exhales, nuzzling into you as he catches his forfeited breaths back.

you supposed that if he were unable to continue, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. it was even between the two of you now, and you were both correspondingly satisfied. you reach down and grip the base of him that isn't enveloped inside of you, and can't even begin to attempt to suppress the grin on your face when you realise he's still hard. "not satisfied yet, are you?"

he's about to defend himself, promise you he's not as filthy as he presents himself to be. but there's no need for it, seeing as you give him no time to rest before you climb on top of him, and start rocking your hips. and honest to god, hongjoong has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

he's being used like a toy, and he loves it. but at the same time he isn't sure if you want him to help you or if he should take it, so many thoughts rushing through his mind but in reality he's just trying to stall so he doesn't cum again. he's a ragdoll in your arms, the pleasure he had been feeling a few seconds ago returning in an instant with a new found sensitivity, your pussy even wetter with his cum. he ever so desperately wanted to take back the dominance between the two of you, he knew he could do it. but the most he could do to even voice a reaction was curse loudly, cry out and throw his head back.

he takes it back. completely. there was no way he could do anything other than accept it without any objections. it was everything he had ever wanted and more, there was nothing going on in his mind other than perpetual euphoria.

"fuck i'm close," you whisper, cursing in approval when hongjoong's index and middle finger work at your clit in time with your bounces. "c-cum for me? cum for me baby?" hongjoong's eyes brim with tears, a mix of sentimentality and overstimulation. you nod frantically, finally letting the knot in your gut come loose, letting out a wail as your orgasm washes over you.

he whines softly at the feeling of you gushing around him, and he cums a second time. he fills you up again with a groan through gritted teeth, in smaller spurts with less amount than the first. you pant, falling limp on top of him with a grunt. "that was good," you hum, hand moving to trace his collarbone.

hongjoong's arms come to encircle around your waist, pressing you close to his chest as he begins to soften inside of you, making no move to pull out. he kisses your temple, one of his hands moving to the back of your head, caressing your dishevelled head of hair. hongjoong has never felt such relief as he does holding you, your body feeling just right with his, and he can't help but think to himself..

"i love you." he blurts out. the confession is rushed, panicked and hesitant. you feel his body tense up the moment he registers he's said it, but you just smile against his chest, poking him in the rib. "you're okay i guess." not getting the answer he wants, he groans. "princess.." his tone is whiny, and you giggle, sitting up to plant a passionate kiss to his lips.

"i'm joking, joong. i love you too."

© st4rcig4r 2024 i do not give permission for my writing to be copied, translated or posted anywhere but tumblr.

[bvidzsoo]

Slow it down

⊂Biker!Seonghwa⊃

TW: nothing

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: A short drabble while I'm away on vacation, because for some reason biker Hwa's been occupying my mind lately, not letting me rest. I can't wait to continue my pirate!au mini-series with Ateez, I miss writing it so much lol. Being at the sea is definitely not helping at all at suppressing my creativity lol. Hope you enjoy this one!

You couldn’t tell when it started, your infatuation with Seonghwa. Infatuation, perhaps, was a strong word, but you didn’t know how else to define it at the moment; maybe crush would’ve been a more fitting term, you thought, but you weren’t too sure about it. Park Seonghwa. You had known him for years, although never truly paying much attention to him, he still managed to become the center of your friends conversations, stealing the spotlight at any given chance without even being around. Seonghwa was quite famous at your school, and in your town, let’s be real, for constantly doing bad things and breaking girl’s hearts left and right. He was your typical bad boy and you wanted nothing to do with him. He was edgy and sometimes quite dramatic; he dressed in all black and wore quite cheap looking jewelry, painting his nails black after he realized girls went crazy for it. He knew he was good looking and he used that to his advantage. He could persuade anyone into doing whatever he wanted and it came in quite handy when he was behind on his schoolwork, his teachers excusing him for whatever dumb story he managed to come up with. Girls ate up his sob stories about his fake pets and evil parents; he came from a very loving family, so you never understood why he was lying about it. And, oh God, when he got his license for his motorbike did his popularity skyrocket even more. You were pretty sure you caught him once making out with one of the teaching assistant’s behind the school, but one side glance from his sharp eyes and you knew never to mention it to anyone. And to be honest, that was probably your first and last interaction with the boy, not that it bothered you. You liked your peaceful life as it was, serene, and void of worries correlated to boys. You didn’t feel like dating at your age yet, seventeen wasn’t too young nor too old, but you felt like you weren’t ready for a relationship. And that was fine, your father was happy too, not quite ready to lose his ‘little’ girl which he was aware you weren’t anymore, but it brought closure to him to know that you didn’t crave male attention just yet. His ‘little’ girl’s heart would remain unscathed for a little longer.

And all of that sounded really good, really, you would’ve never complained about your ordinary life. Oh, well, that is until Seonghwa started showing up to your father’s car service frequently. For some reason, the two of them seemed to be getting on well, and your father allowed him to come in from time to time to fix his motorbikes. Seonghwa owned at least three by now. He was two years older than you and while all of his friends went to college, he stayed behind, telling people he wasn’t ready to choose just one thing he was interested in to study for the rest of his life. However, this confirmed your theory for you that he just didn’t know what he was good at and that he wasn’t smart enough to go to a good college. It might’ve been a little harsh to view him like that, but he never ranked too high in your high school, too busy chasing girls and starting fights. And so, one day, as you made your way home you decided to stop by your father’s car service before heading upstairs as you lived just above it.

The rock music blasted throughout the car service; a few cars scattered around as your father had quite a lot of work for the week. Him and his colleagues were nowhere to be seen and you figured you stopped by during their lunch break, everyone was back in the dressing room. But you wanted to greet your father still, show him the grade you got on your thesis, unable to keep the smile off your face. You scored the highest in your year, it made you ecstatic. Your father would always order your favorite food whenever you brought home an outstanding grade, celebrating your achievement. With a skip in your steps, you waltzed down the spacious room, appreciating the white Mercedes your father was currently fixing. You failed to notice the clanking of tools, so when you turned to your right, your heart almost jumped out of its place as you yelped loudly. The older guy just cast you an unimpressed glance before he bent down again, unscrewing something around the front spring of his motorbike. You placed a hand over your hammering heart, frozen in your place as you watched his long black hair fall over his face. His hair had gotten longer since the last time you saw him, which was probably around a year ago, at the closing ceremony of his graduation.

“Did you become a statue or what?” His low, monotone voice snapped you out of your initial shock and your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head, remaining silent. Seonghwa cast you a quick glance before he continued working, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to take off the nut screw. He had been sweating prior and he lightly tapped his forehead before twisting the screw again, nothing happening. You didn’t consider your next actions for long as you let your backpack fall onto the floor before walking up to Seonghwa, kneeling down beside him. He turned his head to look at you, his sharp eyes watching you closely as you inspected his work, chuckling. Of course the nut screw wouldn’t come off if it was stuck, almost fried onto the tube it was holding together. So, you looked around for a little oil and found it on your father’s stand, so, you stood and walked over to it, getting it, then walked back to Seonghwa’s motorbike. You kneeled down again and sprinkled a little oil around the nut screw, failing to notice Seonghwa’s curious gaze on you. Because it was slightly fried against the tube, you struggled to get the nut screw off at first, but after tugging at it and forcing it, it finally loosened up enough to come off, clattering onto the ground. You grinned in victory and grabbed the nut screw, turning your body towards Seonghwa to show him your success but you, instead, froze at the proximity. Your noses were almost touching and your wide eyes took in his face, taken by his mesmerizing features. He seemed tanner than the last time you saw him and his plump lips were redder too, dark eyes gazing into yours intently. Sweat rolled down the side of his temples, stray strands of hair sticking to his damp forehead. You had never seen him from so close before, and suddenly you understood all those girls who gave in to him. He was breathtaking. His sharp gaze held a glint of curiosity in it and that made you self-conscious as you quickly stood, clearing your throat, as you extended your hand to Seonghwa.

“Uh, sorry—” You started, avoiding eye contact, “I should’ve asked before helping—”

“I’ve been struggling to get that off for half an hour now,” Seonghwa chuckled as he stood, taking the nut screw from your hand; you didn’t fail to notice the way his pointer finger ran over the back of your palm, making you gulp nervously at the unnecessary action, “and you did it in like…five minutes.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just picked up your backpack and looked away as Seonghwa took a step towards you, your body tensing, “You’re Mr. Han’s daughter, right?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Y/N, I know who you are.” Did he really? You smiled a little, nodding your head as you heard laughter coming from behind you, it was your father’s. And as Seonghwa watched you, he noticed how tense you seemed to be around him yet as soon as your father approached the two of you, you had long forgotten about him. It was weird to him; he was used to girls throwing themselves at him constantly.

“Y/N!” Your father hugged you, excited to see you, “What brings you around here?”

Suddenly, a big grin appeared on your lips as you unzipped your backpack, digging around, looking for your thesis. Seonghwa watched intrigued as you pulled the paper out and shoved it in your father’s hands, who’s eyes had the same glint as yours in them. It was quite an endearing sight, how much the two of you resembled each other.

“I got the highest grade, dad!” You exclaimed with excitement and your father chuckled as his eyes ran over the papers, a proud look on his face as he handed it back to you.

“Very well, honey,” He handed you the thesis back, “You know what’s for dinner tonight then.”

Seonghwa watched as the biggest smile he’s ever seen on you spread onto your lips, snatching the thesis away from your father who just chuckled and winked at you. He’s seen you around your high school, but never had the chance to talk to you. It seemed as if you always ran away from him, almost as if you were avoiding him. He knew of his reputation, it was hard not to when everyone kept reminding him of it, yet you never seemed to care as you wouldn’t even cast a second glance his way. You weren’t fascinated nor scared of him, it was peculiar, but he never thought about you for too long. He usually didn’t like challenges when it came to girls and those who played hard to get never had his attention for too long. He wasn’t there for the long run, therefore he found it useless to invest so much energy into one girl only. But you seemed like you didn’t want his attention at all as you kissed your father’s cheek goodbye before you ran out of the service, forgetting about his presence altogether. It didn’t sit right with Seonghwa, and as he gazed after your bouncing form, your father chuckled and looked at him amused.

“Didn’t you two go to the same high school?” He asked and Seonghwa nodded his head.

“We did, but our circle of people were too different for us to know each other.” Seonghwa’s answer made your father chuckle to himself, nodding his head in understanding. He knew what type of boy Seonghwa was, he never truly expected his daughter meddling with him.

“Yes, that makes sense—” Your father said more to himself before his eyes fell on Seonghwa’s motorbike, “How’s the spring, son? Any progress?”

“Oh, I got the nut screw off finally—well, your daughter did, actually.” Seonghwa admitted with a shameful chuckle and your father nodded, not looking surprised in the slightest.

“Yeah, she’s quite the mechanic, my little one.” Your father gloated proudly before he walked off, headed towards the white Mercedes he was supposed to fix by Friday.

            And after that first encounter with Seonghwa, you considered it your first real encounter, you seemed to run into him everywhere. It started being creepy after a while and it made you feel weird as you told your best friend, who didn’t think much of it, unsurprisingly, and suggested that perhaps you were just randomly running into each other, your city wasn’t too big, after all. Despite that making sense, you couldn’t help but still think Seonghwa was doing it on purpose as he’d always strike up a conversation with you when you crossed paths. Sometimes it was about something really dumb and it would make you look at him with a questioning gaze, nevertheless, you still seemed to entertain him, curious of his motives. He never made obvious advances towards you, so you really didn’t understand what was the purpose of all of his actions. Perhaps he was looking for a friend now that his other friends were in a different city at college? But that didn’t make much sense as he stopped showing up to your father’s car service since he had fixed his motorbike, yet trailed you around the city whenever you were out. And one evening, as you were headed home from the library, you had been doing research on a fish type for you biology class, Seonghwa was there. Across from the library in the parking lot, sitting on his motorbike as his eyes fell on you. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked around, trying to find the person Seonghwa could be waiting for it. But it seemed like just the two of you were on the street and you sighed as you took off, but not towards him. The sun was long gone and you had to walk quite a lot to get home, so you didn’t want to waste any more time, not a fan of walking around alone at night. But you barely made it a few steps before you heard rapid ones approaching you from behind. By now, you knew it was Seonghwa. You had memorized his walking pattern and the force of his steps.

“Headed home?” And you were right as his head popped up next to yours. You cast him an unimpressed glance before nodding wordlessly. Seonghwa hummed and continued walking next to you, grinning as he realized you were trying not to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice the gear he was wearing, his thick jacket undone and his light sweater showing underneath. He has never touched you before, so when you felt his warm grip around your wrist, halting you from taking another step, your eyes widened. He pulled you lightly forward, towards himself, and you almost tumbled into him. His cologne was strong and you caught the whiff of something strawberry scented, his hair looked like it wasn’t completely dry.

“Let me take you home,” Seonghwa’s low voice was soft and quiet as he looked in your eyes, making you flustered, “It’s not safe for you to walk alone.”

This was it, then, the moment Seonghwa’s been probably waiting for to finally try and woo you. He didn’t seem like the patient type, you had to give him some credit for holding out for so long. And despite every fiber in your body asking you to accept his offer, heart thumping loudly at the proximity and wrist burning from his warm hold, you smiled and softly pulled away from him.

“Thank you, but I did this walk many times before,” Seonghwa wasn’t pleased with your answer at all, and he let you know as his eyebrows furrowed, “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

But Seonghwa didn’t let you leave, stepping in front of you, making your body collide against his, you hoped he didn’t hear your quiet gasp, “There’s plenty to be worried about, actually, so just let me take you home.”

You took a step back, trying to put some distance between your bodies, hoping he wouldn’t see your red cheeks. You didn’t think he’d be this persistent and as you looked up at him, he seemed very determined, “I’ve never ridden a motorbike before and I don’t have the proper gear either.”

That made Seonghwa chuckle and you watched as he quickly took his jacket off, closing the distance between your bodies once again, making you avoid eye contact as he draped his jacket around your shoulders. He held the collar together around your neck and you gulped nervously, his fingers lightly grazing against your neck. His jacket was heavy and a lot bigger than your frame, “I brought two helmets, don’t worry.”

You went to still try and deny his offer nicely, but Seonghwa was already pulling you after him, interlacing your fingers, making you blush again. You couldn’t deny his attractiveness anymore, and despite staying away from him for so long, you seemed to be unable to do so lately. Yes, he was everywhere, but you seemed to want him to be everywhere you were, his sharp gaze always following you, making you stay alert. When he wasn’t looking, you’d sneak peeks at him, admiring his features from afar, imagining as you ran your finger down his tall nose, his plump lips, his sharp jaw, and then all over his dark eyebrows. Park Seonghwa was gorgeous and you now understood those girls trying to get his attention, hoping he was the love of their lives. You entertained that thought sometimes, before falling asleep mostly, wondering if you could fall in love with Park Seonghwa. Wondering if he could genuinely love someone. Wondering if he could fall in love with you and not play you like all those other girls before you, But now, as you stood by his bike, allowing him to place the spare helmet around your head, securing it, it all felt so real and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was ever going to change. Seonghwa suddenly grinned, his smile making your heart melt, as he tapped the helmet where your cheeks were supposed to be, and you found yourself suddenly holding his hands, pressing them down, holding them in place

“Were you waiting for me?” You finally asked what’s been on your mind ever since you spotted him and now a charming smile appeared on Seonghwa’s lips, gaze locking with yours. He suddenly gripped your hands and brought them down to your sides, interlacing your fingers on both hands. You were glad the helmet somewhat concealed your currently red cheeks.

“Yes, I was,” Seonghwa admitted truthfully, “there are no coincidences when it comes to me, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you tried not to grin as Seonghwa watched your face closely for a reaction, grinning himself. You didn’t want strands of hair getting into his pretty eyes, so you found yourself pushing them behind his ear, hand lightly grazing against his skin, making Seonghwa gulp. He tried to remember a time when his heart was racing this much because of a girl, but he couldn’t. He watched you as you fixed his hair for him before placing the helmet around his head, securing it and tapping the top like he had done for you. It made him chuckle and you looked down, embarrassed, but excited by his reaction. Despite his bad boy reputation, he was being rather soft and almost shy as he released your hands and got on the bike, beckoning you over too. You got on too, excited and lightly scared by the new experience as Seonghwa brought the engine to life, reeving it a little and making you giggle. You allowed your arms to rest around his middle, holding him tightly as he took off, headed towards your house. You knew explaining this to your father would be a bit troublesome, but you hoped his liking for Seonghwa would help you out a little bit.

Masterlist (divider)

[mangoshorthand]

If we're insisting on a romantic plotline for Five set up in Season 3

Right. I've heard people saying that Five/Lila was set up from season 3. That all their banter was deliberate foreshadowing or something. Now, I'm not sure if that's something the writers said or if that's just people seeing banter and affection and then attributing it to romance with the benefit of foresight. (If it's the former, then it was set up extremely poorly and frankly I refuse to believe that was the plan).

So, if Five had to have a romance plot in s4, (as Blackman decreed) here's how I would have set it up from season 3 in a way that would hopefully not have seemed too weird/forced.

One of the main gripes people had about that season is that most of the Sparrows were introduced and then discarded quickly, so the introduction of a plotline in which Five has a dynamic with one of them might have gone some way towards helping with this.

Now, I know that pairing Five with a Sparrow is an overused fanfic trope that rarely plays well and it's kinda weird for TWO Hargreeves boys to pair up with their multiverese sisters, BUT we are living under Blackman-law and thus Aidan Gallagher must swap spit with someone as soon as possible after turning 18 so this is the best I have:

I would change/develop (and potentially recast) Jayme. Be prepared...this is long:

Personality/Background

She feels out of place in her family.

She hates the limelight and doesn't cooperate in their branding activities.

Even with Reggie drugged up, life feels just as shitty (maybe shittier) to her being under Marcus' regime.

She's been done with the whole sparrow academy thing since she was a kid and is fascinated by the somethings and nothings of ordinary life.

She has a tendency to 'run away' and do her own thing. The Sparrows see her as unreliable and selfish.

She's cynical and feels no loyalty to the Sparrows as a whole, but she does have personal loyalty to Sloane and Alphonso.

You could put her in the wrong/younger body like Five, which could also be leveraged to put distance between herself and the other sparrows, but I also think that would be too convenient a plot contrivance to play well on screen.

I would keep Season 3's plot largely similar, just with the addition of a friendship between Five and Jayme:

S3 E1+2

Initial fight

Five and Jayme have the same initial fight scene with a little more prominence. It goes roughly the same way but perhaps add a bit more interaction/smack talk between them.

Bar Room conversion

At the point Five is first wearing his retirement outfit, a situation occurs that sees he and Jayme sitting at the bar of the hotel obsidian. There are few hard feelings about the fight. They grouse a little and rub along well even though Five clearly thinks she's a spy.

They get onto the kiss with hallucinatory Delores and Five's whole story comes out.

Jayme thinks the peace and quiet of the apocalypse sounds kind of nice (a notion he thoroughly disabuses her of).

She finds herself oddly touched by Five's devotion to getting home to his family, although she can't really fathom doing the same and finds it hilarious that he continues to insist that she must be a spy because they're her family.

Jayme tells a story of being a child and hiding in the mansion and playing house in a little den where nobody could find her. It was her escape. When she got older, she used to escape the mansion and hitchhike around the country for weeks at a time, enjoying a slice of ordinary life.

Five asks her why she came back every time instead of staying away. She can't answer him, but the answer is obvious to him: she too loves her family and doesn't really know how to live in the real world beyond her childhood 'playing house' in her den.

She strikes back that it takes one to know one, and Five concedes this.

But her story chimes with Five, and this is what catalyses his retirement/roadtrip arc with Klaus.

S3 E3-6

Five is pretty busy so they don't interact again until E7. BUT...

The bar room conversation with Five pricks Jayme's conscience and she throws herself into trying to find Marcus and protecting her family.

The confrontation with Harlan goes similarly except Jayme doesn't die and she is instead devastated about Alphonso's death, making her one of the fiercest advocates for killing Harlan. She's angry that Allison did it and she couldn't.

S3 E7

Before trapping the Kugelblitz in Christoper

Jayme lashes out at Five/all of them. Five correctly intuits that she's still upset about Alphoso and angry she didn't get to kill Harlan.

He comforts her in his uptight way and tells her from experience that killing for revenge/out of anger doesn't do any good, but resonates with her that not being able to save the people you love is a terrible, powerless feeling. He ends in saying that, for what it's worth, she shouldn't feel bad for wanting a normal life.

She hugs him tightly, surprising him. He hugs back stiffly but not unhappily.

Post-Kugel-trapping

Lila encourages Five onto the dancefloor, and Five in turn encourages Jayme onto the dancefloor.

They dance and laugh, and it's clear that they enjoy being dance partners. There are a few cross shots that show them liking one another's company. The last we see them together is somewhere around Lila telling Diego she's pregnant and Luther and Sloane's engagement:

Five and her are slumped on a couch. She said she's glad it's over and she's going to put all this behind her.

He asks what she's going to do. She says she wants to try to be a family without being a Sparrow and find her own way in the world. She's going to open a little coffee shop, grow her own food, find a simple life. What about him?

He tells her that his road trip with Klaus didn't go as planned, so he's planning to get nice convertible and go travelling for a while. She says that he'd better put her coffee shop on his route. He replies that he'd like that, and then leaves to find Viktor.

Right before the Kugel-splosion

She is in the conversation with Ben, Christopher and Fei and states her intent to leave and have nothing to do with their plans, but still wants to stay on good terms.

They reject her pretty roundly, and she leaves to go and find Sloane thinking she'll have more luck with her.

And then Christopher blows.

Halfway up the stairs, Jayme is unconscious as a result of some falling rubble, and the expanding Kugelblitz puts her and Ben in equal danger. Five instinctively saves Ben (because he will always choose his family) and Jayme dies in the mansion.

S3 E8-10 (After Jayme's Death)

Five feels guilty and more than a little resentful of Sparrow Ben's assholery given what happened.

His decision to give up the fight and accept the end of the world is somewhat influenced by his bitterness over this.

Otherwise, S3 continues unchanged.

S4 (nearly there)

I would have to rewrite the entire series, but here are the basics:

Jayme crops up again, unable to remember anything until marigold is reintroduced.

She and Five are the ones who get stuck in the subway (or similar plot device that allows years to pass for them while no time passes for Five's siblings). They get together relatively quickly, maybe within a year or so. They have a peaceful few years together growing their own food and trying to coax an old barista station back to life so they can make their own coffee. They're both genuinely happy, Jayme absolutely thrives there, and there would be lots of scenes of Aidan Gallagher kissing someone for Steve to enjoy. (Sorry Steve. Your writing decisions might suck but I'm really giving you a hard time here.)

When Five finds the journal, he hides it from her, although he clearly struggles with himself over it, and becomes unhappy. After a few months of him not being himself, Jayme finally gets it out of him.

When she asks why, Five's all: "Because I choose you. I didn't choose you last time so I'm choosing you this time. I love you blah blah kissy kissy for Steve"

And Jayme's like "Yeah, I appreciate it but I love you too. You wouldn't be the man I love if you didn't leave this behind and go back to your family. I want you to be happy and you can't be happy knowing that you can get back to them."

Five accepts this sadly and thanks her for the little slice of normality and peace they shared together. For a moment it looks like she's going to stay and he's going to leave, but at the last second she joins him. Five is her family now, and so are all the Umbrellas too. She can't keep 'playing house' alone. Wherever they are, she will be happy.

And then the series ends totally differently and they all get their happy endings.

[everythingmp3]

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕 ✧｡

teen!Van x fem!reader

during the aftermath of the hunt, tensions rise in the cabin and one unlucky person ends up in the middle of it: Van. a heated argument ends with her storming off, and for the first time since you two drifted apart after years and years of being childhood best friends, you feel the need to protect her. when you go after her to try and offer some support, you reconnect more deeply than you expected.

warnings: slight infidelity (sorry Tai)

author´s note: thanks to the anon that sent me the request, here´s my first attempt at writing for younger Van! I like thinking about alternative realities for her, for example what if an ex best friend was out there in the woods with her? so here’s my version of that, hope you enjoy!

it was nothing out of the ordinary in a small town like yours: to go to elementary, middle, and high school with the exact same group of people. but there was only one person in that group who you cared about during the early days of your adolescence: Van Palmer. 

both you and Van had been rather shy kids, sensing that you were different to the others in some way, so the moment you two met in first grade and recognized that feeling in each other, you became inseparable. from that point on you spent all your time together: school, afternoons at the mall, sleepovers, whole weekends running around outside from dusk til dawn, always finding trouble to get into.

in high school you slowly became friends with other girls too, mainly due to soccer, and at first you remained a close duo, but once you were around 15 and both of you had serious issues of your own to cope with, Van´s including her on and off relationship with Tai, you drifted apart. there were no hard feelings, you were still friends, but only from a distance: no one-on-one hangouts, no phone calls, just short friendly chats during practice or lunch breaks, nothing intimate or deep about it anymore. 

even after the crash, stuck in the woods together, you two only interacted with each other in the group setting. sure, here and there you engaged in small talk, but you never sat down to have a real conversation, just the two of you, in private.

of course being stranded in the wilderness would wear anyone down, but for you it was especially hard to watch Van´s light fade more and more over time, knowing there was nothing you could do to help. sometimes you wondered if you should try to talk to her, but you knew it might have been uncalled for, especially considering all the other complex dynamics with Tai and Lottie and a few others that she already had to deal with. so you left her alone, worrying from afar, keeping it to yourself until the day of the first hunt. 

naturally, the aftermath that was not pretty. the irony of the situation was that once you had all finally gotten some sustenance into your malnourished bodies, everyone suddenly seemed to have regained enough strength to get angry and riled up again. it was like everyone collectively woke up from the permanent daze that the hunger had left you in.

the guilt and shame about what had gone down settled in and nobody was dealing with it in a healthy manner, so eventually the tension reached a tipping point and a fight broke out. Tai and Shauna were already upstairs and Lottie was just quiet in the corner but all the others were standing around the room hurling insults and accusations at each other, with one person getting the worst of it: Van. 

she was the easy target, the obvious choice for a scape-goat, since she had initiated the card pulling. at first she managed, but the thing that pushed her over the edge was a comment from Mari along the lines of : “well, you were pretty quick to push that fucked up game, maybe we would have found a better way”. nobody defended her, everyone just murmured, a few people even nodding in approval. before that, Van had pushed back, but by that point she was done, you could tell, so instead of justifying herself any longer she grabbed her scarf, wrapped herself up in it, and ran out, banging the cabin door so hard that a few things on the table fell over.

for a moment you all just stood there, a charged silence, and for the very first time since the crash, you lost your composure. you´d been a quiet presence out there, never demanding much, never complaining excessively, never refusing to do the work you were assigned. but in that moment your peaceful nature crumbled. 

you looked around the room in disbelief. “you are fucking unbelievable” you uttered, your voice harsh and unforgiving. everyone turned to look at you, surprised that you of all people were chiming in,“you guys are being so fucking childish, really, it´s pathetic! Van was the only one who had the guts to do something, to just push through so we wouldn´t fucking starve to death! she took that on and you should be thanking her instead of unloading your guilt on her, we all did it, that´s our shared weight to carry! grow the fuck up!” your face was hot, all the rage from the weeks before about your situation was coming out at once.

“yes, we´re doing fucked up horrible shit, this is how it is now, deal with it or go ahead and get on your high horse and starve! but leave her the fuck alone with that guilt-trip bullshit!” you had gotten so loud that everyone was just staring at you as you wildly gestured around, almost shouting by then, remembering Van´s look from a few minutes earlier, the pain and weakness in her voice. even Lottie had perked up after being lost in thought for the past hour.

you shook your head, not waiting for a response, “honestly just take a fucking nap or something and get a grip before she comes back in and you can apologize for whatever the fuck that was”. somehow, they knew you were righteous in your anger, so nobody dared to say a thing as you also took your scarf and followed Van outside. it was in that moment that everyone remembered that you and Van had been best friends once. it wasn´t on anyone´s radar at all, but your passionate defense was a clear reminder.

in front of the cabin you just stood there breathing out for a moment, collecting yourself, giving Van a few more moments of solitude before looking for her. snow was still falling but only lightly, it was sunset, the light was disappearing quickly but it was not freezing enough yet for it to be unbearable outside. the stinging from the weather in your cheeks was actually a welcome change from the thick air inside.

at first you thought Van might be sitting by the fire pit but when you saw that she wasn’t, your next best guess was the large tree that had crashed to the floor behind the cabin and served as a kind of bench, and you were right. once you turned the corner and made your way over, you could see Van sitting there, her back turned to you, so you approached carefully, tapping her on the shoulder. “enjoying the cool breeze?”, she looked up at you, clearly expecting someone else because her hostile expression softened a little when she realized it was you. still, she didn´t smile, the joke not enough to get her out of her gloomy state of mind. 

you got it and saved the humor, “can I?” pointing to the space next to her, wiping off some of the snow and sitting down after she said “sure”. you waited a second before speaking again, “don´t listen to their nonsense okay? you did what had to be done and they don´t get to make you feel bad for that”.

that was not what Van had expected to hear, at all. she turned to look at you then, “thank you. I mean fuck, it´s not like I am this heartless monster who just did it without feeling anything, I just..” you put your hand on her shoulder then, squeezing reassuringly. “I know. you don´t have to justify it, really. I for one am just glad that it´s over with and that we´re gonna see another day.” she was struck by how much she needed to hear that, how uplifting it was, to hear someone not just tolerate her actions, but thank her for them. it had been hard to seem fearless, determined, to take on the role of the leader for such a horrific thing, so the moment you said those words it felt like a weight was lifted off her chest, like she could take a proper breath again. it was a good thing, to realize that at least someone in the group shared the ability to look at things more pragmatically. 

she relaxed a little, exhaling deeply. “god they piss me off sometimes” she admitted, shaking her head, you laughed then, “yeah. I´d say that was pretty high up on the list of horrible moments out here”, she nodded, staring up at the sky, “an endless fucking list if you ask me”.

you also looked up then, the snowflakes falling directly onto your face, “well, we do have our lovely reconnection with mother nature to add to the positives, so there´s that” you joked, she cracked a genuine smile then, “right. and our glorious  exploration of a different cuisine”, you nodded, “exactly, we´re really expanding our palette out here”. it felt good, natural, to return to a place of banter with her, after having spent countless hours laughing together for years, so much so that you regularly got kicked out of classes for it, stomachs cramping from saying the exact right things to get each other to break. you´d been a nightmare for teachers back then.

there was a comfortable silence for a moment, faint smiles on both of your faces as the memories came flooding back into your minds, neither of you said it out loud but something shifted in that moment and you could feel it, it was like your bodies were telling you “why did we ever stop doing this? this feels right”. 

you cleared your throat, “you know, I sometimes think about that summer”, Van looked at you from the side, you didn´t have to specify, she knew exactly which one: the summer three years before. 

during that time things had been at their worst with Van´s mom. she rarely had a single moment of peace at home, so you convinced your parents to let her sleep over for days, weeks at a time, because there was no school to keep up with and enough sympathy from them for her situation to basically let her become your roommate for a few weeks. 

you were the only one who knew all the details about her home life, who had been there for all of it: the panicked calls to your house asking if she could come over, the late night talks that ended with her crying and you soothing her and getting her spirits up by putting on a film and getting her to explain it to you, the few times you were at her house and helped her clean up and carry her mom from the couch to the bed. you’d always been there and never judged or told anyone.

at times Van had looked at you out there in the wilderness, with the feeling of “she´s the only one here who really knows me”, yearning for your understanding nature at times. you´d looked at her a few times with the feeling of “at least her mom can´t terrorize her out here” , a hint of pain in there too, knowing that Tai involuntarily also kept her from sleeping through the night.

“yeah I think about that summer too sometimes.” Van said, a clear sense of nostalgia in her voice, “remember how we climbed onto your roof one night and tried to smoke weed for the first time?” she laughed, you´d forgotten but the second she said it the images of you two laying there came back to you. “oh my god, yes! I think we coughed so loud that the neighbors yelled at us to shut the fuck up right?” she nodded, “yeah, and I think we hardly even smoked any of it”, a grin on her face, yours too “it was fun though. we could use some of that stuff right now actually”, she agreed, “oh absolutely. god what I wouldn´t give to just get high out of my mind and forget all this shit” her head in her hands for a moment, hunched over, you patted her back, “yeah me too”.

you hesitated a second before asking, “so… what´s going on with you and Tai?”,  sensing that her exhaustion was also partially due to their situation. a groan from Van as you brought the topic up “oh okay that bad, huh?”, she sat upright again then, looking back at you. “honestly, save yourself the headache of being talked through that mess” you eyed her, her scars that you were seeing up close for the first time, since you were barely a few inches apart.

“well, at least you´re getting some kind of action. I might just die out here without ever really having gotten with a girl so. I think I deserve some pity too actually” a look of surprise on her face then, she looked at you with her eyebrows raised, “huh? what do you mean?”, you shrugged, “exactly what I said”. 

“you don´t have some secret girlfriend out there who is mourning you right now?” she asked, a teasing tone, you shook your head, “not at all. what would make you think that?” she was still looking at you, a subtle smirk “I don´t know. I always thought you´d do really well in that department. have some hot older chick who picks you up in her car after school or something. you were always better than me at keeping secrets, so I figured you might have something going on” you laughed, considering it, “well if that´s the vibe I give off I´m glad, I really wish I had a juicy story like that to tell but no, sorry to disappoint”

it kind of shocked Van. you had always been close to perfect in her head, she´d admired you all throughout your friendship, so maybe she was projecting a little when she thought of you as being irresistible to other girls. 

it made her remember something, “funny thing actually, when Tai and I first got together, she asked me if she should worry about you. people were apparently convinced that we´d secretly been a couple before”, that took you off guard, “what? really?” she nodded, “hmm yeah”. it made you think, the funny thing was that during all those nights you´d spent sharing a bed, nothing had ever happened, not even a peck and you knew the reason. it was you two against the world during that time, so switching the vibe from best friends in the world to lovers would have required taking a big risk.

but of course, you weren’t oblivious, growing up you both knew that you were attractive to each other, it was always there in the back of your mind. a question hit Van in that moment: what if I had gone after her instead? what would that have looked like? what kind of relationship would we have had? she felt fucked up for thinking about it, but part of her liked the idea, regardless of her love for Tai, she couldn´t deny that you´d always been someone that had made her feel safe, cared for, that your love had been a calm and steady kind, a contrast to the push and pull with Tai. 

it was messing with her in that moment, how much she´d missed you, your solid presence, reminded of it by the fact that you were the one to come out and look for her, who found the exact right things to say. it didn’t help that your pretty face was illuminated by the last few sunrays spilling over the horizon, your eyes almost sparkling from it.

you were thinking of slightly fucked up things too, the jealousy you´d sometimes felt watching Tai and Van being affectionate with each other, knowing you might die without ever having that, knowing you might have experienced it with Van if you´d have had the guts before.

she broke the silence first, “so, when you say you never got with a girl back home, what do you mean exactly? like not at all or?” you thought about it, “well. nothing worth bragging about. the last time I kissed anyone was last winter during Lotties big party and that wasn´t great because I think she was straight and just treating it like a silly little thing to do while drunk” she shook her head, pissed on your behalf, “man that sucks. you deserve more than that” she couldn´t help it, part of her felt challenged by that, a voice inside was telling her: come on. do it. show her what a real kiss feels like. she also felt somewhat possessive out of nowhere, hating the idea of some random girl getting a chance with you who couldn´t even treat you right. 

you were both looking at each other, her gaze changing all of a sudden, something more intense creeping into it, and for a moment you tried to tell yourself you were imagining it but she kept looking and looking at you, not saying a thing, her blue eyes not moving away one inch, you didn´t look away either, breathing a little heavier then, hard to tell if the cold was the only reason your hands were shaking. there was hardly any distance between you to begin with, so as you both instinctively leaned closer you could immediately feel her breath on your lips, your whole body reacting to it.

Van´s hand moved to your cheek and before you could react she leaned in to kiss you, her hand wandering to the back of your head to pull you closer, yours grabbing her neck as you adjusted your position to face her more directly, both of you holding onto each other, at first it was just her pressing her lips against yours, her soft warm skin a thrilling sensation in the freezing cold, at first it was tender and sweet, but then you kissed her back with a force and eagerness that stunned her, but she matched it immediately, you were starved for intimacy and it was clear from the way you kept feverishly kissing her, no plan of stopping, your hand in her hair, her tongue in your mouth, a soft moan as you felt her getting more desperate, her grip you on you tightening, it felt like you were making up for something, like it was long overdue, so it turned sloppy and intense very quickly, the initial hesitation completely gone, one could have called it shameless, the way you were feeling each other up, hands roaming as you made out like you were trying to eat each other, not a single care who might walk out and see, who might catch you, it simply felt too good, having each other like that for once, after all that time, and somehow your bodies knew each other so well that it didn´t feel like a first kiss at all, it felt like a kiss between lovers who´d spent a long time apart, reuniting. in a sense it wasn´t that far off.

after a while your lips were burning and slightly swollen, your faces hot and glowing despite the darkness that had turned your surroundings even colder, so you finally pulled away, panting, hands still on each other, the air before you turning to smoke as you breathed out hard, trying to regain your composure.

Van shook her head, whispering to herself “jesus…” , you just sat there, your whole body burning, neither of you able to suppress your satisfied grins, “that was…” you didn´t really have any words, she looked at you, completing the sentence, “hot?”, getting a genuine laugh out of you, “yeah”.

“god I knew I was right about you being the type to make girls lose their fucking minds” she said, pointing towards you, you just nudged her arm in response, the shared giddiness almost inappropriate considering the circumstances but for a moment you were those same girls you were back then, sharing a secret, giving into your less noble impulses together. it felt too good to act like you felt bad about it.

after a moment of collecting your thoughts, you got up from where you were sitting, wiping the snow off your legs, “so, I´ll go in first and you´ll try and wipe that smile off your face before you follow, because otherwise they´ll ask what the fuck I did to you out here” she nodded, taking the order, smiling at you from where she was still sitting “got it. I´ll channel some of the energy from earlier”, “exactly, yes. see you in a minute then” you said, turning to leave, but before you could walk off, she pulled you back by your hand again for a second, “hey by the way, I heard you shouting in there earlier, what was that about?”. Van had a good guess, but she wanted to hear it from you. you cocked your head, eyeing her, “oh you know. just sticking up for an old friend”, she squeezed your hand then, “well I’m sure that friend is really grateful” , an undeniably soft look shared between you two then, before she watched you head inside. 

Van wouldn´t have admitted this to anyone, but as she sat there waiting for a second, coming down from the high of kissing you, she thought: how the fuck am I gonna spend all my days around this girl and not drag her off to do that again and again.

[bluetomorrows]

Clone High: It's About the Contrast

Something I've seen a lot of is Clone High S2 redesigns. People taking the new characters of S2 of Clone High and changing the designs, usually cause they don't like what we did get. Some of these are neat. I saw one that tries to combine their new designs with their S1 designs from when these characters were incidentals. A lot of them seem to take the personality out of the design. Most of them look hard to animate, but that isn't the point I'm trying to make.

People seem to really dislike these new designs. There are valid design reasons (some are a bit overdesigned, and they definitely clash with the S1 designs) but it just seems people are mad at them in concept. Especially Harriet Tubman. How could they turn Harriet Tubman into... this?

It's outrageous! And yeah, it is. It's supposed to be. That's the joke. In the 20 years since Season 1, the Clone High Fandom has grown and shipped and gossiped and a lot of people have forgotten that the incongruity of the characters is part of the joke. Joan of Arc was not in fact a goth girl who constantly thirsts over tall men. The same goes for several other characters.

Harriet Tubman isn't Harriet Tubman. She shares her DNA but she is decidedly a different person. That's the point of Clone High, the show is less about historical figures interacting in a high school setting and more about how these people might be if they were raised under different circumstances. Ideologically, Clone High is an argument against great man theory.

Gandhi changed the world. But when he isn't born and raised in British controlled India under very specific circumstances, he's just some guy. The same goes for Cleopatra, JFK, Joan of Arc,, Jesus Christ, and yes, even Confucius, Frida Kahlo, and Harriet Tubman. It's circumstances that create people, not people making the circumstances.

Imagine if you had the chance to have a conversation with the real Harriet Tubman. What do you think she would say? How would she act? I'm sure she'd probably be an interesting and nice person, but she wouldn't be a character fit for a wacky animated sitcom. You don't really expect former slaves to be bubbly like that.

It both literally and metaphorically takes the basic DNA of these figures and subverts and modifies their existence through modern society, or rather the tropes of teen dramas. Not just asking what would happen if these people were in high school but if they were ordinary people. Instead of being a hero whose life is in danger, Harriet Tubman is a girl who gossips and whose biggest worry is becoming a basic bitch.

Look at the S2 finale. The board of shadowy figures have assembled their great men and put them in competition. They'll weed out the best of the best to become the great men of the future. And out of about 100 clones, only one actually makes it to the end. Everyone else fails. The one clone who does make it, Joan, is born again into extreme circumstances. Being left for dead by her friends and suffering a psychic break. There is no such thing as great men, just extraordinary situations.

I think this theme of subverting these legendary figures is something that should be kept in mind when talking about the show. It isn't really a show about historical figures, just historically-themed characters. And that's okay. It's very funny when done well! It's a cartoon and it really acts like it. It was never asking to be taken as a serious drama and definitely wasn't asking to be a commentary on historical figures. It simply parodied its contemporary teen dramas a little too well and we got invested in joke characters and everything changed. The S2 writers were in a very unenviable place, and I applaud them for taking things in bold new directions. If you haven't watched S2 or even just watched a few episodes, I'd recommend giving it another chance. It's not perfect but it gets better as it continues. It has its own distinct feel and style while still understanding what "the point" of the original was.

Also Kahlopatra for life ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

[thomawifey]

dreaming

characters: dazai osamu, oda sakunosuke, ango sakaguchi, you

contains: fluff totally

wc: 390

a/n: im currently sick but hey it's holiday:3 ALSOO inspo from a scara+ei tt i saw where nahida controlled his dream~ (by that means nahida = reader)

An ordinary night where Dazai, Odasaku and Ango hang out together at the Lupin Bar. Talking about their work activities that they done today while drinking together. Dazai always look more ‘alive’ when he’s with them. Life never felt much alive when they are together, chattering, drinking together. Dazai smiled looking at Odasaku and Ango talking about work, suddenly he joins in the conversation.

“Wanna know what I did today?!” he asked to them, his amber eyes beaming full of excitement to tell.

Seeing this, Odasaku and Ango looked at eachother then nodded their head as an answer. Dazai’s smile widen seeing at their answer, starting to ramble about it.

“I got a partner for now and he's Chuuya Nakahara from-” he explained to them, which Odasaku and Ango is interested in hearing. Dazai has never been this happier seeing someone, no, people willingly to listen him ramble about his day. He wishes the night could continue and never stop, he doesn't want this moment to stop. After he rambles about his day, Ango talks about his, so did Odasaku. It was the best night ever.

Dazai sighed, which got the attention of both of them, they looked at him slightly concerned. Dazai smiled at them,

“I wish the night continues. I never had anyone listen to me talk..” he sighed, suddenly Odasaku’s hand on his shoulder, patting it.

“I’m glad I listened to you.” Odasaku replied, softly smiling at Dazai. Ango seeing them having a ‘father-son’ interaction, a smile formed on his lips. Why couldn't the night just last forever?

Odasaku looked at Dazai, his hand still resting on Dazai’s shoulder.

“But it's time for you to wake up.”

Dazai hearing those words, his eyes slightly widen, his face giving a confused look.

Before Dazai asked what Odasaku meant, his eyes opened, his body waking up from his sleeping position which is on top of his desk. He looked around, he was in the office, it was all a just dream. You were sitting beside his desk, a smile on your lips.

“Ah, you’re finally awake!”

“Did you do that..?”

He asked, looking down, tears forming in his eyes. You could only smile at his question, shooking your head.

“Who knows?” you replied, seeing his tears finally flowing out of his eyes.

He could only cry knowing it was just a dream. Happiness doesn't stay forever, huh?

[emmtropywrites]

"Flowers", a Baldur's Gate 3 fanfiction. Chapter 1: Seeds

Part 2

Also on AO3

Summary: You're working as a florist in Baldur's Gate when you meet one of the heroes who saved the city. After the first conversation with her, you can't get her off your mind.

Tags: Selunite Shadowheart x Reader, fluff, cottagecore, wholesome, post-game, gender neutral reader, flowers, florists, reader is not Tav!

The bell on the door jingles as another customer enters your shop. Wiping the plant matter from your hands, you set down your knife on your worktable and turn to greet the lovely woman. Taking in her long, silver hair, her short, pointed ears, and her sweet face that is marked with freckles and one, long scar across her nose, you feel a flush come to your cheeks.

“Hi there, welcome to Feisty’s Flowers,” you say, hoping your smile doesn’t come off as too intense. You always tend to overthink your interactions with pretty people.

She tilts her head slightly, her lips smirking playfully. “I don’t suppose you would be Feisty?”

You laugh and shake your head. “Feisty is unfortunately no longer with us. He’s not dead, mind you, just retired in the countryside somewhere.”

“Lucky him,” says the woman. “One day, I hope to do something similar. City life is nice enough, but I need some peace and quiet.” You can’t help but think of how silvery her voice is, how pleasant she is to listen to.

“Maybe I’ll join you,” you say jokingly, but, realizing how that might come off, add, “in leaving the city, I mean. There’s no room for proper gardens here.”

“Oh, and that brings me to my visit here,” she responds. “See, my favorite flowers are night orchids, but I live in a flat and so I can’t grow them. I was wondering if you could make me a bouquet with similar flowers? It’s a rather specific request, I know.”

You nod, having seen a few paintings of night orchids. “If I remember correctly, they’re a darker purple color? Almost blue? Or were you wanting a variety of ordinary orchids? In which case I have a few types you can choose from…”

You set to work, showing the woman the different buckets of flowers you have available, and as you do, you see a cautious smile grow over her face. She asks occasional questions about lifespan and proper cut flower care, but mostly listens intently as you explain what you can do.

“How long have you been a florist?” She asks after you explain the differences between dendrobiums (a genus) and mokaras (a hybrid).

“For a few years now. My dad was an artificer, so I grew up tinkering and using my hands to make things, but I always had an eye for more colorful pursuits.” Memories of your time putting scraps of metal together to make artistic collages make you smile fondly.

“Well, you’re definitely well-versed,” she praises. “Do you have a favorite flower to use? Or does it change day by day?”

“More like mood by mood,” you say with a hint of cynicism. “For instance, if I were to deal with a particularly rude customer, my go-to would be limonium, as it smells like feet when it gets old.”

She laughs lightly, hiding her mouth behind her hand. You notice a small, dark spot on the back, and wonder if it’s a birthmark. However, you’re more taken with the sound of her giggle- airy, but with a sharpness behind it.

“For average customers, I’ll try to use carnations,” you continue, enjoying the conversation.

“That’s… interesting,” she remarks. “I thought carnations were associated with funerals?”

“They can definitely be useful for funerals, but that’s due to their longevity and resilience,” you explain. “Carnations come in a wide variety of colors, and they’re very sturdy and long-lasting. They’re…” You pause, searching for the right word. “Reliable.”

The woman is quiet for a moment, and you hurriedly ask, “Why are night orchids your favorite?”

A look of quiet sadness passes across her face for a moment- a look that you are very familiar with, as customers often come in for flowers to place on graves. “They remind me that beauty can exist in even the darkest of places.”

Now it’s you who is quiet, and she shakes her head. “My apologies, that got a little morose there.”

You shrug. “I’ve dealt with all sorts of things in the flower business. People think it’s all bright and cheerful, but there’s a grounding factor of sorrow, of reality.”

“And of rude customers?” She teases, quirking an eyebrow.

You laugh. “Yes, exactly. So, back to your arrangement.”

The woman finishes choosing her flowers- purple lisianthus, dark blue delphinium, green cymbidium orchids, and various greens- and you arrange them in a clear glass vase for her. When it comes time to pay, she hands over the few silver pieces, and says, “Thank you for your help and expertise. And for the conversation. It’s hard to connect with people in a city where everyone is going about their business so quickly.”

“I agree, it was lovely to meet you, um…” You trail off, realizing you never got her name.

“Shadowheart,” she introduces herself.

You give her your name, and she says it once, before saying, “May Selune light your evening,” and leaving with her flowers.

Once she’s gone, you begin cleaning up the loose stems and petals left behind from the arrangement. But you can’t help but feel like you’ve heard the name Shadowheart before. Eventually, it dawns on you: she was one of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, who fought and defeated the illithid attack. You shudder as you remember how you and as many people as could fit inside your store had barricaded your doors and hoped for help to arrive. You had never been sure how much time had passed before the streets had been declared safe again, but your anxiety had made it feel like ages.

Regretting that you hadn’t had a proper chance to thank Shadowheart for everything she’d done, you decide to pay a visit to Stormshore Tabernacle tomorrow, to leave an offering for Selune.