#I have a lot of thoughts if you can't tell

[raichukfm]

It's a fascinating question and the answer doesn't speak to it at all. We're talking about swapping perceptions, you know, the hypothetical thing that could answer those "What if my blue is your red?" ponderings. Were that the case and you were to swap, you would start seeing everything red as blue and vice versa, but you would be able to tell this. That's a controversial point, but we aren't proposing a full qualia inversion here; your internal concepts of red and blue haven't changed, just the way that your brain maps sensory stimuli to your qualia has. You can imagine red, and it's red as you have always imagined it, you just look at a red delicious apple and you see it as blue. (Actually a fascinating question whether people would agree with this assessment, and has me wondering about people with aphantasia specifically about if they think their 'red as they have always imagined it' can be separated from the way things with that color look to them. I'm getting off track.)

But this swap is different. Semiotics refers to the meanings that things have; for instance, the way you are looking at these squiggles or hearing these sound waves and taking them as a message. I am intending a meaning now as I type these words out, and you are taking away a meaning as you perceive them, and though it won't quite be the same meaning it is related. There's a question of where exactly the meaning you perceive is; is it in the message itself? Is it just contained in the context around it? Was it put there by me? Is it only there when you read or hear it?

And now specifically we're talking about abstract objects, things which aren't concrete; for instance, words as words, not images or sounds but the thing that those patterns invoke. Things where it is already an interesting philosophical question about how exactly it is that they exist. (For those with the bent to ponder it and not just go 'Uh, they just do, duh' because yeah that's fair.) And that's just one example of an abstract object. It's not all messages. There are numbers. There are complex mathematical objects, like groups and rings and fields. Are things like "peace" abstract objects?

If we do this swap of perceptions, so you perceive the meaning of an abstract thing to be the meaning that I perceive... What are you perceiving, exactly? Is it the thing anymore? Is this even truly a swap of perceptions or is it rather a swap of thoughts? If you took one piece of my mental model of the world and swapped it out with one of yours, how would it fit in? Would it fit in at all? It's fascinating.

The world isn't shrouded in darkness. There's not some blinding fog that has settled over everything. You can observe the world, make sense of parts of it, peer into its mysteries and try to think of answers. Yeah, it's confusing and a lot of pieces of it are out of reach but that's just because the world is so fucking big and complicated and so many parts we simply lack the faculties to possess. This question is that lovely kind of philosophical pondering that is fundamentally unresolvable and by all rights has no practical purpose... But we can still talk about it, and in talking about it, we can share ideas and work through how it is we think of things. If nothing else, we can enjoy ourselves. And that's as practical a purpose as anything else.

Don't see something you can't think of how to answer and decide that it cannot be answered and that now is a time to shrink away to safe thoughts that can be trusted. Ponder whatever bullshit that strikes your fancy, and try to think about what the answers would be. Even if you can fundamentally never find out if you're right or wrong, the thinking itself is a worthwhile exercise. Encourage other people to do it too, though don't try to force it; different people have their own sorts of funtime questioning. I've got things like this, some people have how much prep time Batman would need to defeat Shrek in a fight.

equally confounded and obsessed by this quora question and response that i just stumbled onto

[ariestrxsh]

.• ° * જ⁀➴ content warning: smut, angst, manipulation, cheating, toxic relationship, crying, oral (f!receiving), rough car sex, hair pulling, toxicbf!chris, gf!reader

.• ° * જ⁀➴ author's note: sorry guys i kind of made chris a cheating asshole in this (but i'd still let him hit bc i'm lowkey a cuck).

.• ° * જ⁀➴ summary: you and chris get into an argument after you find him cheating on you at a party, but you can't stay mad at him for long, especially when he knows just what you like, and he gives it to you in the backseat of his car.

.• ° * જ⁀➴ this fic is very loosely inspired by this post (it started off as a roadrage fic that leads to sex but the fic really took me down a different road, so i took the rough car fuck from it and kind of changed everything else so idk)

(i used two different songs for inspo, but they both have the same name, and i actually like this concept a lot bc the halsey song more fits where the reader's head is, and the current blue song more fits where chris' head is, so keep that in mind if you ever listen to the songs associated with my fics.)

Drive

You set foot out of the bathroom at a New Year's party your boyfriend had dragged you to, your eyes scanning the sea of faces in search of him.

You didn't recognize most of the people here, but they all recognized you. Chris knew almost everyone, and they all knew of you by association. Chris was a bit of a social butterfly, especially at parties, constantly flitting through each room and getting easily distracted, so you weren't sure where to even begin looking for him.

You had a better chance of finding one of his brothers first and hoping that maybe one of them had seen him. You continued to look for either of the three of them through the crowd while music thumped loudly through some shitty speakers.

You found your way through the living room and the kitchen, bumping into a few people who knew your name but failed to tell you theirs and were no help in finding Chris. The smell of marijuana burning floated into your senses as you wandered out back, thinking for sure that you'd stumble upon your boyfriend outside lighting up a joint, but he was nowhere to be found.

You did, however, find Nick who was getting hit on by a group of girls who were all giggling and playing with their hair while they all completely missed the obvious signs that he was totally uninterested and also gay. "Hey, have you seen Chris?" You called to Nick as your heels clicked against the stonework in the backyard.

Nick politely excused himself and started walking towards you. "No, I haven't, but thank God you're here. I thought they were going to eat me alive back there," Nick whispered in your ear, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as the two of you started to walk back inside. You frowned at him. All you wanted was to find Chris.

"You know, I saw a cat earlier. If we can find the cat, I'm sure we'll find Matt close by. Maybe he's seen Chris," Nick suggested, shrugging. You and Nick pushed your way past a bunch of drunk college kids when Matt caught your eye at the top of the second floor.

He was bent down, petting a black cat and scratching the sweet animal under the chin as she purred and brushed up against his leg. You two made your way over to the banister and started climbing the steps. "Hey, have you seen Chris?" You called to him, startling the cat and causing her to run off to one of the dark rooms down the hall.

Matt glared at you. "No, I haven't," he huffed. "I can't find him anywhere. I swear, I left him alone for like ten minutes," you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach and the thoughts creeping into your mind that he might be somewhere entertaining another girl.

"I wouldn't go up there if I were you. I think there might be someone hooking up in one of those rooms," Matt pointed down the hall, smirking. He turned his attention to Nick. "Hey, since Chris can drive himself now and we don't have to wait for him, do you wanna go?" The rest of their conversation was drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat thumping away in your ears as you peered down at the only room you could tell was lit up.

You saw what looked like two pairs of feet stumbling around as their shadows broke through the light shining through the crack in the bottom of the door. Something told you that Chris was in that room, and even though you had nothing to go off besides a gut feeling, you had to be sure.

After Nick and Matt had made their way back down the staircase and out the door to Matt's car, you finally worked up the courage to march towards the door. You pressed your ear up to the wooden barrier. You couldn't make out what the two voices on the other side were saying, but one of them definitely belonged to Chris.

You subtly turned the knob and threw open the door. Sure enough. Your scumbag boyfriend was getting close and friendly with another woman who had her lips latched onto his neck, and he had his hand resting on her hip. He immediately pulled away and backed up as he realized he'd been caught.

"Hey babe," he said, trying to sound casual. You could tell by the sneer on the girl's face and her body language that she wasn't happy to see you. Your glance flickered between the both of them a few times before you felt tears starting to well in your eyes. You turned away and bolted down the stairs and out into the front yard.

It was a shame Nick and Matt had already left because all you wanted to do was go home, and now the reason you were crying was your only ride. Chris followed closely behind, chasing after you. "Babe, what's wrong?" He asked, playing dumb, as if that could really get him out of this one. You pushed him away, but he pulled you close again.

"What the fuck were you doing with that girl!?" You asked through your tears, raising your voice. "We were just talking," he sweetly told you, wiping away a bit of your smeared eyeliner. "Chris, I'm not stupid! She was kissing your neck," you sobbed in response, shoving him again.

"Babe, you're embarrassing me," he shot back, sounding a bit annoyed with you. "You're the one making out with some other girl at a party where everyone knows we're together, and you're the one who's embarrassed?! You're unbelievable!" You yelled.

"You're always jumping to conclusions and accusing me of shit," Chris responded, embracing you once more. "Shhh. Come on, baby. Come home with me, and I'll show you how sorry I am," he cooed in a soft voice, trying to de-escalate the situation.

"You're not fooling me, Chris. I'm not giving into you this time. Just take me home.." you said, your voice trailing off as he started kissing and nibbling on your ear. "Please. Come home with me. I'll make you feel so good," he whispered into the crook of your neck, pressing his body up against yours.

Your knees and your willpower grew weak as you turned your head to expose more of your throat to him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

As angry as you were with him, he could always win you over with sex. It was like a vicious cycle. He'd hit on another girl in front of you, you'd get jealous, the two of you would start fighting, and then he would console you with sex. You hated that it always worked, but you couldn't help the effect he had on you. He was intoxicating, and you were addicted to him.

"Mhmm. Please, Chris.." you hummed back, giving into him. He had you in the palm of his hand. He reached behind you and opened your door for you, leading you into his car and closing it once you'd gotten in.

It still had that new car smell. He climbed into the driver seat, turning the key in the ignition. You listened to the sound of his engine purring as he pulled away from the street, one hand on the steering wheel and his other on your thigh. His pretty blue eyes shifted between the road, his rearview, and his side mirrors.

You watched the way the streetlights overhead illuminated different parts of the car as you drove underneath them, shadows bouncing off the leather interior, creating a strange illusion, kind of like how it felt to be in a relationship with Chris - like a long, late night drive where the lights and shadows played tricks on your eyes to the point where you didn't know what was real and what wasn't.

"Why don't you put on some music, babe?" Chris suggested, breaking you out of your thoughts and attempting to distract you from bringing up the girl from the party again. "My phone's dead. Can I use yours?" You casually asked him, reaching for his phone that was sitting in his cup holder.

"Mine's dead, too," he replied, trying to grab it before you did. You watched his screen light up as an incoming message came through. "Bullshit!" You yelled, snagging his phone out of his hand.

When you opened his lock screen, it was open to a new contact he'd just saved, and you saw a woman's name you didn't recognize, and when you pulled down notification bar to see who the text was from, it was from her.

"Give it back," Chris demanded, trying to wrestle his phone out of your hand while trying to maintain his focus on the road. The text read: I had fun with you tonight. I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble with your girlfriend. Text me the next time you're lonely. ;)

"That's it, Chris. Let me out of the fucking car," you told him, throwing his phone at him and reaching for your door handle. "Jesus Christ," Chris said, rolling his eyes and turning down an empty road that was dark besides one lone streetlight at the corner.

"I'm not kidding. Stop this fucking car or I'll jump out while it's moving," you threatened. "I know you will," he scoffed at you, hence the reason he was pulling off of the main road and bringing his wheels to an abrupt stop.

Chris had pulled over on the side of the street in a residential area, but there was stretch of empty field before you'd hit any houses, and there were no people around because it was around 11 p.m. on New Year's Eve night and everyone was either out at a bar or a house party or nestled comfortably into their beds ready to start off the new year with a good night's rest.

You threw open the car door. "Don't - slam it," Chris started to say, but he was cut off by you slamming the door shut in his face. You grew even more pissed off at the audacity of him to care about his car in a moment like this. You started marching down the street, your heels angrily clicking against the sidewalk as you tried to hold back your tears with arms crossed over your chest.

He rolled down his tinted window. "Get in," he told you, but you ignored him, not even bothering to slow your strides. "Get back in the car," he repeated through gritted teeth. "No, you can leave. I'll find my way home."

"We're 45 minutes from your house, you've been drinking, and your phone is dead. I'm afraid I don't have a choice. I'm not leaving you out here alone like this," Chris told you, slowly driving beside you, his wheels inching forward with your angry stomps. You gave him the silent treatment, continuing down the pavement.

He stopped the car and pulled himself to his feet, coming around to the opposite side where you were and grabbing you by the wrist. "Look, I know you hate me, and you can tell me all about it in the morning, but for now, let's get you back to my place, and I'll do my best to make it up to you," he softly cooed, looking into your eyes as he grabbed both sides of your face and pulled you into a deep kiss.

You kissed him back, your lips moving in unison with his, but you pulled away. "What? You gonna leave me over it?" He asked genuinely. You stared at him blankly. "Because you never do," he pointed out. He was right.

This was a pattern, and there was a part of each one of you that loved the drama of the tumultuous relationship the two of you shared. You both knew it wasn't healthy, but Chris loved the way you'd get jealous over him and cause a scene. It made him feel like you really cared. And you loved the great lengths he'd go to in order to win you back over after a big fight.

And, of course, you were both addicted to the makeup sex. Neither one of you understood the psychology of why neither one of you wanted out of the relationship. After all, you two really did think you loved each other. You just only had really fucked up ways of showing it.

"Come on. You know you want me. You'd get bored with anyone else," he said in a seductive tone as he winked at you. Again, he was right. He pushed you up against the car and started kissing you, wedging his knee between your legs.

"I need you, baby, and I know you need me, too. I'm the only one who can give you exactly what you like, hmm?" He moaned into your mouth in-between sloppy kisses. "Fuck me, Chris," you moaned back.

"Yeah? You wanna go back to my place, and I'll fuck you nice and good," he purred into your ear. "No, Chris. I want you to fuck me right now," you sternly replied. He raised his eyebrows at you. This was out of character for you, but he liked it, and he wasn't going to let the chance go to waste.

"Fuck. You're so hot," he rapsed as he pulled open the back door. "Get on all fours," he ordered you, pushing you into the backseat. He pulled the hem of your black dress up over ass and started taking down your panties.

He eagerly spread you open, and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath radiating onto your core. He leaned in and buried his tongue in between your folds, lapping up your wetness. Your face was pressed against the cold, leather interior as a mewl passed through your lips.

He started to harshly suck on your clit, moaning against your sensitive nerve endings as he brought his hand down and slapped your ass hard. You yelped, leaning back into him. You reached around and entangled your fingers in his soft, brown locks as he continued to eat you like a man starving.

"Like when I eat it from the back?" He seductively asked you. "Mhmm," you whimpered, biting your lip and nodding your head. He wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves, and he began methodically flicking his tongue over it as your whole body started to tremble.

He slurped up all your juices as he roughly kissed your drooling cunt. He created a bit of suction on your clit again, pulling away slowly and stretching your flesh, which made the feeling far more intense. He smirked after he released it from his lips and it snapped back into place. You whimpered at the delightful sensation.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he praised you. You dug your freshly-manicured nails into the seat as he brought you closer to the edge. His tongue explored you in ways that no one else ever could. You felt the knot in your stomach come undone as he devoured you, paying close attention to every part of your vulva, stimulating you with his soft, wet mouth.

You started to shake as you finished onto his tongue, strangled moans pouring into the car. Chris chuckled against your heat, licking you clean. He released his mouth from you, and you heard the sound of him fiddling with his belt. Then his zipper.

You felt him draw a line up your slit with his tip, dragging it through your wetness. He slapped it against your entrance, laughing at the way you sent your hips back trying to coax it in. "You forgive me, baby? You forgive me for getting mixed up with that girl?" He cooed, teasing you with the head of his cock.

"Of course, Chris. I could never stay mad at you," you whimpered, eager for him to put it in. He smirked, snapping his hips forward and burying himself deep inside you. "So big," you whined as you generously accepted him, your pussy stretching around him and accommodating his thickness.

"Take it," he groaned, starting to buck his hips back and forth. He admired the arch of your back and all your perfect curves as he had you in his favorite position. His eyes wandered towards your ass and the way it jiggled every time he jerked his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your hole.

He grabbed ahold of your hair and used it to steady himself as he pounded away. "You take my cock so well," he growled, rutting into your gspot with every jagged thrust. Your eyes rolled back, and you let out a deep, guttural sound that you almost didn't even recognize coming from yourself.

He started to break a sweat, a few drops of perspiration forming on his forehead, his thick hair sticking to it. The car windows started to fog up with the moisture from your combined breath as the two of your bodies moved as one unit in an escalating exchange of energies.

He relished in the way you squelched around him and the sound of skin slapping against skin. "Harder," you practically sobbed as you felt the pressure building in your abdomen again. He fucked you ravenously, picking up his strides and giving it to as hard as he could, sending satisfaction through every inch of you.

His eyes were slammed shut, his eye brows knitted together, and his jaw dropped, pleasured sounds unfurling from his lips. They were deep, sensual, and almost frustrated - almost animalistic. His car rocked back and forth as he took you in the back seat, your fingers grasping for anything to hold onto as you felt your stomach flutter.

"So close," you managed to whine as you reached the point of no return. With Chris still gripping your hair tightly, he kept his pace as steady and strong as he could while on the brink himself. "Cum on my cock, babe," he demanded, his voice textured with lust. He gripped your hair even harder, tugging with even more force than before as your orgasm rippled through you, fully surrendering to him.

Your bodies reacted to one other in a language of unspoken desire as he pumped you full of his warm, sticky load and your walls throbbed around him, creating a positive feedback loop in which each of you triggered a more intense climax in one another.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped, his dick twitching inside of you as he filled you with every last drop. He relaxed his hold on your hair, and you collpased into the back seat of his car. He pulled out of you, admiring the way his cum glistened on your skin in the faint moonlight as it peeked out from behind the clouds.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up, go back to my place, and I'll do that as many times as it takes me to make up for what a jerk I was to you tonight."

taglist: @sturnioloslut1 @trevorsgodmother @aaliyahsturniolo @larallott @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweets @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 2

Part 1

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 1608

If anyone were to ask how he reacted when Damian jumped from the bed to attack him, Dick would say that he reacted exactly as a vigilante who’s been on the job for years now would. Ask anyone else who was there to witness it though and you’d get a much different story of events. 

"Aaaahhh!" Both Dick and Damian slam onto the ground. Damian hits don't pack as much of a punch as they normally would, but that doesn't mean they're not precise when hitting a body's weak spots. "Dam- oof, Damian! It’s okay, you're safe! I'm your brother!" 

That did not have the desired effect he wished it did on the smaller boy; if anything Damian seemed to grow angrier at the mention of them being brothers. "Liar!"  

The others must have heard the commotion because the next moment the med bay door is being thrown open with everyone rushing in. Jason is the first one to get to them, and when he does he's quick to grab Damian. He holds the furiously kicking child to his chest while pinning Damian's arms to his side. 

"Dick, you alright?" Duke is kneeling by his side with a comforting hand on his shoulder as he helps Dick sit up. "Baby Damian really caught you off guard, huh?"

Somewhere in the midst of all the chaos happening Dick hears the sound of a camera click, and he can't help but smile. Another photo down!

"Damian," Bruce's voice is firm as he says, "You need to calm down; no one here is going to hurt you."

That of course does nothing to calm the child who just woke up with strangers surrounding him. "Since when has telling someone to calm down ever worked?" Tim questions as he watches everything from the doorway. 

Bruce sends a slight glare Tim's way before directing his attention back to his youngest child, "Chum, my name is Bruce Wayne, do you know who I am?"

"No, but I know that you've somehow managed to take me hostage," Damian growls out. He's stopped struggling in Jason's arms, and seems to be analyzing them all with a hard gaze. "Who are you working for?"

"Do you know about Batman?" Bruce counter questions instead of giving any kind of answer. 

"I might; is he the one behind this?" Damian for the first time looks unsure about what's happening,

Jason gives a little amused huff, "That is Batman, demon brat."

"Surely not!" Damian judgmentally looks Bruce up and down, "Batman is definitely taller than him." 

That of course got a laugh from everyone, and even Bruce had an amused smile on his face as he thought about how Damian said something similar when meeting him for the first time. 

"And do you know who Batman is when it comes to you?" Dick asks after a few seconds. It's clear at this point that Bruce is trying to see if Damian has been told who his father is. If they can establish that relationship now it might save them all from anymore attacks; at least for the rest of the night.

Instead of answering Damian tucks his chin to his chest and glares at the ground. What's really shocking though is how his body goes almost limp. It seems to shock Jason as well because his tight grip even loosen, and changes to a more gentle hold.

Asking questions probably isn't going to get the baby assassin to trust Dick thinks to himself; not with how his youngest brother was raised. They're going to have to try something else, "Hey Dami, how about we-" 

Before he can continue though Dick is cut off by a loud smacking sound. Damian had very suddenly thrown his head back so that it would hit Jason square in the face. He wouldn't be surprised if it even broke Jason's nose from the sound.

With Jason's grip already loose it doesn't take a lot of effort for Damian to escape his grasp, and make a run for the door. Tim, who was far more focused on his camera, didn’t even have a second to properly react before he was being knocked out of the way. Allowing the young child access to the whole cave.  

"Motherfu-" Jason cuts himself off with a groan before running towards the door as well, "You really let him run right past you, Timbo?"

"You're the one who let him go!"

"He broke my nose!" 

"Guys!" Duke shouts as he runs past the two of them, "let's focus on finding Damian before fighting with each other!" 

That kicked everyone into gear as soon all of them were now trying to find the escapee who had seemingly disappeared. The only thing they can hope for right now is that he doesn't find a weapon of any kind. 

Everyone has split off in different areas to search, and taking the situation more seriously knowing that the kid could pop out of anywhere and attack them. It's not until after 20 mins of searching that Dick decides to just start speaking, hoping that he can somehow convince him to come out of hiding at the very least. 

"Damian, I know that you know Batman is your father, and now you know that Bruce," He gestures to where the older man is standing, "is Batman; your father! I swear you are safe here."

The cave is covered in silence as everyone waits for a response to come. Just as it looks like nothing will happen a slight but deliberate sound comes from the side of where he is.

"Damia-" 

"Silence." Damian speaks forward enough to be seen, but making sure to stand out of reach, "Did Mother set this test up? Grandfather? Either way I'm not falling for it. If you wanted to make this more convincing you should have included my brother."

Dick felt a pain in his chest at that word. Brother? Did Damian really have a brother while at the league? Is he talking about a sort of battle brother, or did Talia have another kid? Is it Bruce's kid? Taking a glance to where Bruce is he sees that the man must be having the same thoughts as his face sits somewhere between anger and grief. 

"You have a brother!?" Tim is the one that finally asks the question on everyone's mind. 

"There is no need to continue this act; I've already figured out that this isn't real."

"Like the same mom, same dad type of brother?" Duke even looks aghast at the revelation of a second possible child of Bruce. 

Damian only looks more annoyed at each question, but answers anyway in a tone that makes it clear that he thinks the answer is obvious, "Tt of course. That tends to be the case with twins after all." 

Damian has a twin?

The de-aged child in front of him could lie about a lot of things right now to get an advantage in this situation, but what advantage does lying about a twin get him? Damian seems so sure that all of this is a test from the league. There is no way he could lie about something like this. 

Damian is a twin. 

As much as Dick wished it wasn’t true he couldn’t lie to himself about this. Between the ages of 6 and 10 something must have happened to the other boy. He’d bet money that whatever it was made Talia bring Damian to the manor. Why did she or Damian never say anything? Was his brother even given the chance to mourn the loss of his brother?

Damian had a twin. 

"Jason, you were with the league for a while, did Damian really have a twin?" Tim whispers quietly to the man standing next to him.

"I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind when I was there, and even then I never saw the brat or brats I suppose." 

"Enough!" Damian suddenly slams a foot onto the ground clearly done with everyone around him whispering, "the test is done, and I'm ready to return back to the compound." 

Tim now turns to Bruce with nothing but shock still on his face, "I think it'd be easier to just explain the truth to him. Otherwise this is what the next couple days are going to be like.”

"The baby assassin is just going to keep attacking us and trying to escape otherwise." Jason adds on as well as he takes a seat at the center table. “I for one would like to keep the demon spawn close by because I’ve got some questions he’s going to need to answer ASAP when he’s normal again.”

Bruce seems to finally snap out of his trance and slowly starts to make his way to Damian. Once he's just out of reach of his son he kneels down so that he's much closer to Damian's current height. "Son, this isn't a test, and I am your father.”

"You are a liar; my father wouldn't leave Danyal behind!" 

No one was surprised this time when Damian sprung forward to attack Bruce. In the end Alfred had to give him a light sedative to calm him down enough to be laid back down on the med bay bed. Duke even went upstairs, and brought Alfred the cat down to sleep in the boy's lap. Unsurprisingly, that cat still loves him when he's this small. 

For now they can only hope that things will be calmer when Damian wakes up again. 

The cave after that was met with suffocating silence as there was only one thought in everyone's head.

"What happened to Danyal?"

[hanniebaeee]

Code Love

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!!

Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff

Summary: Hyunjin is a brilliant post doc at the lab where you're perusing your PhD. He is such a sweet and sexy genius, and you are completely in love.

a/n : For all my science/research girlies 🤭

It was another late night at the lab. You were squinting at the test tubes in front of you trying to make sense of the results. But you were struggling to concentrate with the way your heart was pounding.

He was just sitting there, at his workstation, effortlessly spinning a pipette between his long, elegant fingers. Nothing for your dramatic heart to pound like that.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut through your thoughts.

“Huh?” you blinked, attempting to act like you hadn’t just been imagining how those fingers would feel on your - never mind.

“I said,” Hyunjin grinned, “you’re incubating that reaction too long.”

“Oh, um, I knew that” you fumbled with the timer, cheeks heating up. “Totally knew that. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said, eyes sparkling like he enjoyed watching you unravel.

God, why was he like this?

That face? Those lips? And that brain? This was unfair. He had to have some flaw - how can a man be this perfect?

“Are you staying late tonight?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

“I have to,” you mumbled. “This experiment is dragging on, and I have to submit the report by the end of the week.”

Hyunjin hummed, and said, “Oh good, I'll have some company then.”

You could literally see him doodling flowers into his book - he had nothing to do here. But yet every time you had to stay in late, he'd be hanging around too. Just the two of you.

Your brain immediately betrayed you, fueling your wild fantasy where he wasn’t staying late for work but because he secretly wanted to spend time alone with you. You were fighting so hard to maintain a shred of professionalism, but it was so hard when he was looking at you like that.

Hyunjin hummed softly under his breath as he continued to doodle, the sound sending tingles down your spine. Of course he was a good singer too. You just didn't understand what the universe even wanted from you anymore.

---

“I swear to God, Ji, if he twirls that pipette one more time, I’m going to launch myself across the lab bench, and just -” You were sprawled on the sofa in Jisung's apartment, sighing dramatically.

Jisung was your work bestie, working in the lab next door to yours. And he was the only one in the world who knew about your extreme devotion to Hyunjin.

Jisung burst out laughing, as he said, “This is bad, babe,”

“Bad? Jisung, I seriously can't even think when he's around.” you said. “Oh my God!!”

“Have you considered just telling him you like him?” Jisung smirked.

“Right, and ruin the perfectly good thing we have going where I pine silently while he ruins me with his brilliance? No, thank you.”

“You’re hopeless.”

---

The next late-night session happened way too soon, where Hyunjin wandered over to your bench, peering at your data from over your shoulder. He leaned in close, the scent of cologne (or whatever pheromones that he's sending your way) invading your senses - it's simply intoxicating.

“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, “You've been spending way too much time on it.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, trying not to stutter. “It’s just...a lot of noise in the data.”

“Let me see,” he said, pulling a stool next to you. He reached for the keyboard, and your heart fluttered as his fingers brushed yours.

You wanted to cry. Please don't be so sweet and sexy at the same time, you begged internally. You cursed your body for betraying you with every glance while he explained what he was doing. You could feel the tension in your shoulders as you tried to focus on what he was saying.

Get a grip, Y/N, you reminded yourself. This is professional. Stop fantasizing about this ridiculously hot man who’s inexplicably obsessed with helping you.

When he finally looked up, you realized you’d been staring at him the whole time.

“What?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing... thanks. You’re really good at this,” you stammered.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re good at this too, Y/N. We all have our bad days. Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, patting your shoulder gently before standing up.

You felt your heart squeeze at the sincerity in his tone, and you watched as he went back to his own seat.

Stop it. He’s being nice. Don’t read into it. Just focus on the work.

But it was so hard not to read into it. The way he leaned closer when he spoke, the way his fingersa brushed against yours when he passed you something, and the way he was always so soft with you.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

“Y/N, I’m begging you. BEGGING. Tell him. I'm sure he's dying to hear it.” Jisung said, smiling at the girl who handed over our coffees at the cafe.

“You don’t get it! I can't risk it, if he's just being nice, then -”

“Babe,” Jisung drawled, “what world do you live in?!”

“Don’t give me hope, Ji.” you sighed as you walked towards your lab, the early morning breeze cool against your skin.

“Hope? The man stays late every time you do, flirts with you nonstop, and compliments you after he does your work for you. At this point, I’m falling for him,” Jisung said, throwing his hands up. “Seriously, babe, if you don’t jump him soon, I might.”

---

The cold room was your least favorite part of the lab. You hated everything about it - the freezing temperature, its claustrophobic size and the damn protein extraction procedure that drained the life out of you.

But here you were, miserably clutching your samples and praying for the nightmare to end soon.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed through the door as it opened, and you turned to see him stepping in.

Great. Now you were cold and flustered.

“How's the extraction going?” he asked, his tone light as he slipped on his gloves.

“Going wonderfully,” you muttered, shivering despite your layers.

He grinned, coming closer and watching you work.

“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, making you sigh.

“And miss out on the joy of freezing to death? Never,” you joked weakly, and Hyunjin laughed. “You're too nice, Hyunjin. But I've got this.”

“Nice?” he repeated, leaning back slightly but still watching you intently. “You sure about that?”

You froze, suddenly way too aware of how close he was standing. Was he teasing you? Was this flirting?

“I- I mean, yeah,” you stammered, breaking eye contact. “You’re always helping me...”

“Maybe I have my reasons.” Hyunjin tilted his head, his smile softening.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you asked, “Reasons?”

Before he could answer, the door swung open.

“How's your favorite experiment going?” Jisung's loud voice floated in. “Oh, hi Hyunjin!”

You didn't know if you wanted to strangle Jisung for ruining the moment or hug him for saving you from it.

Hyunjin, ever the sweetheart, just laughed and said, “Hi Jisung, I think she's doing just fine,”

“Of course she is,” Jisung said, moving aside for Hyunjin to step out.

“What was that?” He asked as soon as Hyunjin left.

“What are you doing here?!” you hissed. “We were getting somewhere, but also, if you hadn't come I would've fainted. Like I feel so dizzy, my gloves are all wet from sweating-”

“Y/N,” Jisung said, gripping your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “You like him. He obviously likes you. The universe is literally freezing you together in this cold room to force you to act. Next time, please -”

It was barely 5 am, and you groaned as you shuffled into the lab, your hair in a messy bun and sleep still stinging your eyes. But the bacterial cultures didn’t care about your sleep schedule - or lack thereof.

Throwing on your lab coat and gloves with the grace of a zombie, you started checking the growth plates with bleary eyes.

You’d barely managed to finish when Jisung strolled in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, setting a cup in front of you.

“I love you, Ji,” you muttered, taking the first sip and feeling a spark of life return to your body. “I don't know why I wanted to be a scientist.”

Jisung plopped down next to you, snickering, and started scrolling through his phone while you leaned your head against his shoulder. And he rested his head against yours, before placing a quick peck on your temple.

You were starting to fall asleep, when the lab door creaked open.

You both glanced up to see Hyunjin walk in. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he stopped at the door for a second, his eyes fixed on you.

“Morning,” he greeted, and you gave him a small wave, still too sleepy to form words. Jisung returned the greeting, and then left quickly.

You noticed Hyunjin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That's new. He moved to his workstation, setting down his bag and pulling out his laptop.

You sat up straighter, something about Hyunjin’s silence gnawing at you. He didn’t even glance your way, which was unusual.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, was battling a whirlwind of emotions. He knew you and Jisung were close friends - you’d mentioned it so many times. But seeing the way your head rested against his shoulder and Jisung had kissed your temple - it just looked way too intimate. Too cosy.

He hated feeling this way, especially when you weren’t his to begin with. Still, the disappointment twisted in his chest and he didn't know what to do about it. So he focused on his work.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to you.

---

You let it go on till about noon. But it was killing you - you weren't used to this kind of behavior from Hyunjin and it was starting to stress you out. So summoning your courage, you walked over to Hyunjin and said, “Hey,”

He glanced up, his expression neutral as he said, “Hey.”

“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. “You're so...quiet.”

“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Hyunjin said, giving you a small smile.

“You sure?” you pressed, feeling a strange pang of hurt.

He nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was being so distant, and it left a strange, hollow ache in your chest. Finally, you gave him a small nod and walked back to your seat, feeling totally crushed by his uncharacteristic coolness.

Hyunjin’s silence stretched into the next day. And the day after that. In fact he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to you in the past two days. And it hurt so much, considering the fact that you don't even know why he was doing this all of a sudden.

You tried to brush it off at first. Maybe he was just busy, or stressed. But the space he was putting between you felt deliberate, like he was doing this on purpose.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was crumbling inside. He adored you. And that too for long enough that the thought of losing you was nearly unbearable.

You and Jisung were so close. And you looked so comfortable. He couldn't take it. He wasn't going to let his heart shatter like that.

So, he’d made a decision: if he couldn’t have you, he’d rather step back than risk the heartbreak of watching you fall for someone else. Even if it meant burying his feelings.

---

The next morning, you were back in the cold room. You’d been trying to salvage your protein extraction for hours, but nothing was going right. Your hands were trembling as you loaded yet another sample, and your vision blurred with tears of frustration.

“This is so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking. “Why can’t anything just go right for once?”

You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, as you continued your monologue.

“I just want my Jinnie back. Why does he hate me now? What did I do wrong?” your voice wavered as you spoke through your tears.

What you didn't see was that the cold room door had opened quietly, and Hyunjin had stepped inside. He froze at the sound of your voice, his chest tightening at the sadness in your words.

Your Jinnie?

Your name slipped from his lips, soft and hesitant, “Y/N?”

You stiffened, your body freezing and your heart racing as you heard his voice.

“What?” you croaked, refusing to turn around, too mortified to meet his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asked, taking a step closer.

You shook your head, refusing to face him.

“Why do you care?” You asked, and it broke his heart to see you wipe your tears.

“Please don't say that, of course I care-”

“It’s nothing. Just this stupid experiment. And... everything else.”

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice firmer now. “Please. Talk to me.”

You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

“I can’t do this anymore, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You won't even talk to me, and it’s killing me. I just... I just want my Hyunjinnie back. Just stop hurting me like this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt the tears spill over again, your shoulders trembling as you waited for him to say something. Anything.

And then you felt it.

Warmth. His strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

You gasped softly, frozen for a moment before leaning into him, your tears falling freely now.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Why are you mad at me?” you asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said quickly, his hold on you tightening. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought... I thought you and Jisung -”

“Jisung?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. “You know he’s my best friend, Hyunjin. He's like a brother to me.”

“I thought I was protecting myself,” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. “I thought I’d lose you to Jisung, and I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.”

“I can't believe you never saw me thirsting over you, Hyunjin” you said, your voice incredulous. “What are you even saying?!”

Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh, burying his face into your neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” you sniffled, though your tone was softer now.

He pulled back just enough to turn you around, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long. And I was so scared- ” he stopped short as he saw the look on your face.

“You... you love me?”

“I adore you,” he said, giving you a shy smile.

You let out a breathless laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in days.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. So damn much.”

His smile widened, and before you could say another word, he asked, “Can I... can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, and when his lips met yours, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you so softly (even though you just wanted to eat him up.)

You both stepped out of the cold room together, the door clicking shut behind you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen from the kiss, and as you glanced at Hyunjin, you saw he was in no better shape.

You didn't get to take another step forward as the door to your lab opened and Jisung's head popped in.

His eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin and you could hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. And then he smirked.

You glared at him, because you know that look on his face, and Hyunjin just stood there, his arms crossed and a smile that said “I got what I wanted".

“Congratulations,” Jisung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so happy for you both. But oh my god, you two idiots…”

The grin on his face was priceless. He was enjoying this way too much.

“I swear, if you don’t shut up -” You swatted him on the arm.

Jisung winced dramatically but couldn’t hide his laughter.

“What? You guys make an adorable couple... but honestly, you both are just so dumb.”

Well, you couldn't agree more.

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

[featureenvyproductions]

This post touched on physical media for drawing which is good but I want to add my ramblings about physical drawings as well because these days there's a lot of emphasis on drawing digitally, to the point where I think it's been an actual decade since I've come across a tutorial where someone has drawn things physically on paper....Like, don't underestimate the power of drawing on paper and learning to use physical media. Yeah it's not going to do anything in terms of your popularity 👀👀💧 but at the moment, you've also got an extra layer of protection between you and AI since the best physical art AI could probably do with current technology is something akin to "printing" out a picture with a writing utensil of some sort since mimicking real physical technique from photos of paintings or drawings is quite a bit harder than weighting pixels and outputting them into a file.

I'm also telling you this for corporate reasons. The way the world is going, there's going to come a day when there are no free programs for drawing, and certainly tablets and computers won't be free or cheap, and they're going to demand all your personal information to even boot up. You'll be locked into selling all your data and locking yourself into subscriptions just to have some artistic expression. Do you want that? Adobe and apple can do a lot but they can't fucking take away your paper and pencil. You should learn to use them if only to take back power from corporations. It's why even though I do use digital tools a lot for comic color because it's faster and I'm just one person, I still do almost everything else physically (ink/pencil/layouts/etc). I have a box the size of a large coffin with all the comic book pages I've drawn in my adult life, and the only way Adobe is getting their hands on them or removing my access to them is by banging down my front door or burning my house down.

Sure, technology makes our lives easier, but if you learn to use physical mediums, no one can ever take art away from you or keep you from creating it (at least not EASILY without some seriously oppressive changes) and it's going to be a very long time (maybe not even in our lifetimes) that the corporate ability to do so is finally nerfed.

And yeah you don't need fancy shit. I do all my rough sketching on printer paper with a mechanical pencil, or with a cheap ass sketch book I carry around. Especially if it's just for you practicing and no one is going to see it, you do not need fancy things. Your ancestors ground stuff up and dipped their hands in it and smacked a cave wall. This is your RIGHT to make shit by whatever means necessary whether you think it's instagram worthy or not. (I even outlined what you can use for animation from dollar tree if you're broke in a series of posts if that's a thing you want to do https://www.tumblr.com/featureenvyproductions/752966738522619904/my-thoughts-on-how-to-do-basically-kinda-cel?source=share)

And that's another thing too, don't worry if it sucks. I promise it doesn't, because you made something. And also even if you think it does because you're not meeting your goal or whatever, you have to shake the 10000 bad drawings out of your wrist before you get to the good stuff. Even someone like me who's been drawing [seriously anyway] for 25+ years has to warm up a bit before churning out something serious. Just do it I promise it's fine. (And also if you have the ability to take a figure drawing and/or life drawing class do that because in my experience it helps)

(Also not that I'm that great at art still compared to a lot of artists, I have been at it for a long long time, so if anyone who sees my stuff ever wants to know how I did something, please ask me, I will tell you free tips, I love info dumping, there is no such thing as a stupid question,,,,the greatest compliment is being asked how I did something,,,you do not understand,,,,to me democratizing art means ensuring YOU no matter who you are, can make some of it)

Can't afford art school?

After seeing post like this 👇

And this gem 👇

As well as countless of others from the AI generator community. Just talking about how "inaccessible art" is, I decided why not show how wrong these guys are while also helping anyone who actually wants to learn.

Here is the first one ART TEACHERS! There are plenty online and in places like youtube.

📺Here is my list:

Proko (Free)

Marc Brunet (Free but he does have other classes for a cheap price. Use to work for Blizzard)

Aaron Rutten (free)

BoroCG (free)

Jesse J. Jones (free, talks about animating)

Jesus Conde (free)

Mohammed Agbadi (free, he gives some advice in some videos and talks about art)

Ross Draws (free, he does have other classes for a good price)

SamDoesArts (free, gives good advice and critiques)

Drawfee Show (free, they do give some good advice and great inspiration)

The Art of Aaron Blaise ( useful tips for digital art and animation. Was an animator for Disney)

Bobby Chiu ( useful tips and interviews with artist who are in the industry or making a living as artist)

Second part BOOKS, I have collected some books that have helped me and might help others.

📚Here is my list:

The "how to draw manga" series produced by Graphic-sha. These are for manga artist but they give great advice and information.

"Creating characters with personality" by Tom Bancroft. A great book that can help not just people who draw cartoons but also realistic ones. As it helps you with facial ques and how to make a character interesting.

"Albinus on anatomy" by Robert Beverly Hale and Terence Coyle. Great book to help someone learn basic anatomy.

"Artistic Anatomy" by Dr. Paul Richer and Robert Beverly Hale. A good book if you want to go further in-depth with anatomy.

"Directing the story" by Francis Glebas. A good book if you want to Story board or make comics.

"Animal Anatomy for Artists" by Eliot Goldfinger. A good book for if you want to draw animals or creatures.

"Constructive Anatomy: with almost 500 illustrations" by George B. Bridgman. A great book to help you block out shadows in your figures and see them in a more 3 diamantine way.

"Dynamic Anatomy: Revised and expand" by Burne Hogarth. A book that shows how to block out shapes and easily understand what you are looking out. When it comes to human subjects.

"An Atlas of animal anatomy for artist" by W. Ellenberger and H. Dittrich and H. Baum. This is another good one for people who want to draw animals or creatures.

Etherington Brothers, they make books and have a free blog with art tips.

As for Supplies, I recommend starting out cheap, buying Pencils and art paper at dollar tree or 5 below. For digital art, I recommend not starting with a screen art drawing tablet as they are more expensive.

For the Best art Tablet I recommend either Xp-pen, Bamboo or Huion. Some can range from about 40$ to the thousands.

💻As for art programs here is a list of Free to pay.

Clip Studio paint ( you can choose to pay once or sub and get updates)

Procreate ( pay once for $9.99)

Blender (for 3D modules/sculpting, ect Free)

PaintTool SAI (pay but has a 31 day free trail)

Krita (Free)

mypaint (free)

FireAlpaca (free)

Libresprite (free, for pixel art)

Those are the ones I can recall.

So do with this information as you will but as you can tell there are ways to learn how to become an artist, without breaking the bank. The only thing that might be stopping YOU from using any of these things, is YOU.

I have made time to learn to draw and many artist have too. Either in-between working two jobs or taking care of your family and a job or regular school and chores. YOU just have to take the time or use some time management, it really doesn't take long to practice for like an hour or less. YOU also don't have to do it every day, just once or three times a week is fine.

Hope this was helpful and have a great day.

[sungbeams]

WIP DUMP

okay so this is lowkey inspired by @jayparked posting about her wips a bit ago (check them out here she's crazy talented and i can't wait to read them all) and since i've been struggling with writing recently i thought maybe sharing some of my wips could help. also biggest thanks to snail for helping me with the synopses for some of these and listening to me stress over the banners and everything

if you want to talk to me about any of them or wanna get tagged pls don't hesitate to send asks or comment on this post, i'd love to talk about them some more🥺❤️

MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)

⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 6k

they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?

(i'm well aware the hype around tipsy heeseung has already died down but i started writing this immediately after the pics dropped and then got hit by writers block so i'm dedicated to finish this)

!! more under the cut !!

HE HATES ME, HE HATES ME NOT — psh

⟡ ┆ featuring. sunghoon x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, enemies to lovers, coworker AU, miscommunication (ikik), lowkey past fuckboi sunghoon

⟡ ┆ warnings. hate sex, semi-public sex (in an archive room?), protected and unprotected sex (there's several smut scenes), choking, spanking, degradation, praise kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjob, fingering, manhandling, overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 20k

park sunghoon hates you, and you hate him. it hadn't always been like that, when you first joined the company he works at he was friendly, a real gentleman, but over time of working together he turns cold, sometimes even downright mean, and you cannot for the life of you figure out what caused the sudden change in his behavior. however, things between you change yet again when you 'accidentally' get locked in your offices archive room.

HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college!au, friends to lovers

⟡ ┆ warnings. there's some talks of depression as well as unhealthy coping mechanism so be aware of that pls, protected sex (be proud of me okay), oral (f. and m. receiving), vanilla af, neither of them are virgins or inexperienced but they just having sex for the first time together after realizing they've been in love with each other for years :')

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 14k

"distance makes the heart grow fonder." is no longer just a cliche saying. heeseung decided to follow his dreams, but doing so lead him to a different city, leaving you behind. no other friends, no hobbies to keep yourself busy, and no motivation to keep going, the only thing keeping you on some sort of routine is attending your college classes that your parents force you to go to. just when you're about to officially quit and give up, heeseung shows up out of nowhere and manages to pull you out of your slump, upturning your whole friendship in the process.

NATURAL REMEDY — pjs

⟡ ┆ featuring. jay x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, physical therapist!reader, patient!jay, probably hipaa violations idk just don't do this irl basically

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), body worship (jay receiving bc he deserves someone to tell him or handsome he is), handjob, lots of oil, lowkey massage kink idek what to call this??

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 5k

when jay hurts his knee while goofing around with his friends, his doctor recommends rest and physical therapy. lucky for him, your office is just around the corner, just that neither of you can make good on the ordered rest by doctor.

HEALTHY COMPETITION — lhs + sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader x jake

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college au, non-idol au, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), no romance just fucking

⟡ ┆ warnings. basically no plot, threesome (duh), protected and unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, spanking, oral (m. and f. receiving), multiple rounds, manhandling, they make it a competition to see who can make her moan the loudest...

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 9k

your roommates bickering should be nothing but white noise to you at this point, but when they both rope you into their little argument of who fucks better things take an interesting turn and a welcomed distraction from studying is provided.

SNEAKY LINK — sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. jake x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, uni AU, frat boy jake (i'm sorry), friends with benefits but no one knows, alcohol consumption (they're not drunk and both consenting !!)

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex (it's a theme for me atp, don't do this irl pls), dry humping, fingering (it's jake come on now), kinda rushed sex ig, does it count as exhibitionism when they fuck in a spare bedroom idk, oral (f. receiving), breast play

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 4k

frat parties usually weren't your thing, but when your best friend invites you (with the intention to be her wingwoman) you're not one to let her down. that is until you run into jake, whom you've been fooling around with without anyone knowing ...

© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[liiixsturniolos]

" m'sorry officer. "

dealer!chris sturniolo x cop!reader

(Readers name: Auriella/ Auri Robbins.)

warnings!: smut, (p into v), dom!chris, sex in a car, mentions of drugs. Car speeding (illegal do not imitate!!)

wc: 1.8k

◇ Your first day at your new job as a cop is quite eventful. You stop a reckless driver until you realise who it is, an old friend from high school, Chris Sturniolo. Reminders of your teengage years, lead to something that could definitely get you fired.

You gather your neatly folded pile of uniform, setting it down on your bed before you carefully button it up onto yourself, clicking your belt together. You walk over to your bathroom mirror and stare at the shiny new badge you have pinned to your royal blue shirt.

You feel proud. You made it. First day on the job, you're ecstatic.

Your boots click against the floor loudly, their shiny and new, not broken in yet. The tough leather is rubbing against the heel of your foot, but you ignore it and continue to walk toward the car your boss is sitting in.

"Good to see you again, Robbins." He tells you the same as every other morning at 7am sharp. Your day flies by fast. You don't do much, mostly just lounge around in the police car and nosy into minor drug cases, and hand out a few tickets, nothing that matters.

Dissatisfied with your uneventful day, you stroll back to the car, waiting patiently for your colleague to return from the store he was in. You bite your nails out of boredom, play with strands of your hair.

Anything that could satisfy your mind for even a minute would be nice.

You wanted to solve real cases. To stop someone dangerous or take down a big crime, something that would promote you and make your bosses proud. You didn't want to be sitting in an old dusty police car with stained leather seats and only arresting fourteen year old boys who thought they were cool for selling class B drugs from their school backpack.

It bored you quite frankly, and you wanted something real.

A car zooms past, and it had to have been over going over 90.

The echoing screech of the tires woke you up from your thoughts. "Fuck!" You shout, starting up the car.

You disregard your colleague in the store, push your foot down, and set off on a chase. It was a stupid idea in reality.

You should've gotten on your radio and called for someone else to intercept them. It's unlikely you'll catch up with the speeding car on your own.

Your lights are now blaring, the loud warning and red and blue lights flash rapidly as you speed down the road towards the car. Switching lanes and forcing him to pull over, you stop the car as he accepts his fate.

Feeling proud of your first real catch, you exit the car with pure euphoria flowing through your veins, your legs feel tingly, and you can't help but smile slightly as you walk up to the window.

The dark, tinted window rolls down slowly, "m'sorry officer." A familiar voice apologises from inside.

"You were speeding a lot." You emphasise the 'a lot' of your phrase hinting at the severity and wondering if you'd be getting a bonus for this or something.

The man's face is revealed as he turns his head to pass you his licence. "Chris?" You question, holding his licence closer to your face to check you weren't mistaken. "Oh shit! Auri, that you?" He realises.

"Damn, so you're a cop now?" He laughs, taking in the look of your full uniform and pinned up hair.

"Yeah, I am." You respond with a hint of an ego, proud of your achievement.

"That's crazy, I remember when you couldn't pass math." He chuckles.

"I might just give you two tickets for bringing that up." You tell him in a sarcastic tone.

"You wouldn't give me a ticket, would you Auri?" He tilts his head like a puppy.

"Well, you were speeding, fast- like really fucking fast." You say.

"Yeah, I know, m'sorry, let me off this time kay?" He asks, his hand placed on the wheel firmly and his eyes locked in on yours.

You wouldn't break. This was a serious offence. He could've crashed into someone. You have to take him in, or atleast give him a ticket.

He notices you thinking, your body turning stiffer and your arms more firmly crossed, he worries he won't get away with this.

"C'mon Auri, remember all the good times we had."

He says good differently, you knew why.

Just because you fucked once or twice when you were teens doesn't mean you owe him anything, you know that. But when he tilts his head at you, when he pleads a little, seeing his hand gripping the wheel...

The pressure broke you. You tell him you'll let him off this once, but if you ever see him do this again, he's not getting away with it.

"What are you doing driving out here alone anyway?" You question him.

"I just wanted to go for a drive alone, clear my thoughts n' stuff you know." He lies through his teeth.

You could tell he was making up an excuse on the spot, but you'd kind of stopped caring, distracted by him, his eyes, hands, you hadn't seen him in so long.

"You know, I've missed you, Auriella." He whispers.

You couldn't tell if this one was a lie or not.

You smile. "Let me take you for a drive, hm?" He asks.

"Is that one of your jokes?" You respond with a straight face.

"No. Seriously, c'mon Auri, like we used to. You used to let me drive you around fast, even before I had my licence." He smirks.

He was a terrible influence on you in your teenage years. He distracted you from your studies. Got you into a little weed every now and again and would drive you around in his dad's car that he'd steal.

In reality, he hadn't done that to you. Maybe you had. But you like to blame him, you'll never admit you were a little rebellious, you'll never admit you did illegal things, or that you'd fuck in the backseat of his car, it would be the opposite of your pristine, princess reputation.

"No, I gotta go. Let's just forget about this." You tell him sharply, turning away.

He grips onto your bare arm. You turn back your head, "Auri, one last time?" He asks of you.

Shit. Okay, now you had to go. He was looking all begging and cute like he used to. One last time right? Couldn't hurt hm?

You get into the passenger seat of his car and clip on your seat belt. He laughs hearing the click of it. You've become 'uptight' to him, not like you used to be. You've grown up, matured, he hasn't, he's still racing around.

The car speeds off, your head jolts backwards at the impact, and the car soon becomes steady but speeds up quickly.

You'd forgotten about the rush.

The euphoria, the butterflies you'd get, the feeling like you were floating as the car went 100 miles an hour. I was watching intently as the numbers went up higher on the screen. 60. 70. 80. 90...100 mph.

You were obsessed with it. It was an awful and dangerous thing, but that added to the excitement of it all, the wondering if that night was the night you were going to die. It was exhilarating. It made you so anxious. You loved it. You felt 17 again.

The car slows down, eventually coming to a stop as your smile fades and Chris' giggles stop. He looks at you, a dirty look. Something you faintly recognised as you'd tried to scrub it from your mind many times.

His hand lifts from the wheel to your face, he grabs it impulsively and rough like he used to, pushing his lips onto yours.

Your hands roam through his hair. He kisses you harder, rougher, and it reminds you of the way he used to. He pulls away, his lips now latched onto your neck, and he leaves kisses, as he whispers in your ear about how much he's missed you.

He's unbuckling his belt. You give in and do the same, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much too." He whispers.

Fuck. That was all you needed. He might as well have hypnotised you into jumping into the backseat with your pants off.

The next thing you know, that's exactly where you are. He's on top of you, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing his tip against you, sliding himself in slowly.

You moan out quietly, your eyes shut. "Open your eyes, Auri. I wanna you to look at me like you used to." He asks.

You lock eyes with him as he pumps himself deep into you, hitting the right spot repeatedly, untying a knot in your stomach you only just realised was there.

His sweating, bare chest is hitting yours. He bottoms out inside of you, the entirety of his dick, pushing as far in as he could go.

He gets rougher, something you won't admit you like too. He's practically ramming in and out of you, which was the dirty secret you loved.

Your eyes well up with tears. It's a weirdly nostalgic feeling as you come to your high, as euphoric as the drive earlier.

You feel your legs shake around him, the grunts he utters become quiet, as you're blinded by white spots clouding your vision, your eyebrows turning up, and your mouth hanging open wide.

His throbbing cock twitches inside of you, he coats you with warm, wet release as your back arches up at the feel of it, you join him.

You suddenly become aware of what you've done and where you are.

"This was bad." You say worriedly.

"The sex?" Chris scoffs, his eyes wide open.

"No-no, not that.. this. I'm gonna get fired, Chris!" You yelp out.

"I'm sure you won't. I'll help you come up with a lie for why you were gone, trust me." He insists.

You can barely hear him talking over your fast beating heart and your raspy breath as you pull up your underwear. All you can think about is what you'll tell your boss. That you ran off to go on a fast drive and fuck an old friend?

Chris grabs onto your shoulders with his hands, "Listen, I'm good at lying. I'll get you out of this kay?" He reassures you.

Your eyes are darting around until they fixate on something, something you hadn't noticed before, being too busy to see, bags in the trunk of the car.

You lift your head up to see what's in the trunk. You let out a gasp.

"Chris are you fucking kidding me!" You scream.

"Shush, shush-fuck Auri, chill." He shushes you and turns you away from the drugs which are resting in his cars trunk.

"Drug dealer? Chris for real?" You mumble, his hand over your mouth.

"Yes, quit freaking out about it, God." He begs.

"You're a drug dealer and you thought it would be appropriate to fuck a police officer!" You yell.

"Oh my god, Auri! Quit screaming it to everyone!" He pleads.

"This is insane." You tell him, your eyes wide open, staring at him.

"Listen, maybe we can hatch a little agreement, okay?" He starts...

That's it for today! Please comment/tell me if you want a part two to this! Please also interact if you liked this. Thank you for reading cutiesss!!

Taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava @certifiedstarrr @chrissweetheart

[menagerofmischief]

hi!! i absolutely adore your blurbs so i have a question?

thoughts on vibrators/toys with oscar? or like free use with him?

oscar loves toys. he's got quiet a collection, stashed away in a box under the bed. and it all started with a flashlight he got as a gag gift when he was a teenager. the collection evolved over time but most of it happened when the two of you started dating and he started getting them to use them on you.

now next to toys for him, such as cock rings and flashlights, are also a wide variety of toys for you. he's got a lot - and I mean a lot! everything from vibrators and dildos to clamps and gags.

but he's got a bit of a soft spot for vibrators. especially the remote controlled ones, those are his favorite.

one day you're getting ready for dinner, putting on finishing touches to your make up and leaning your body forward over the bathroom sink as you chase the reflection in the mirror. oscar comes in, doesn't say as much as a word before pressing your body down onto the counter and lifting up your dress, hooking his fingers into your panties and moving them to the side and then next thing you know he's pushing something inside of you.

it takes you a moment to realize what it was, a small vibrator. oscar's eyes lock with your in the mirror and he smirks, his open palm tapping against your cunt. "don't even think about taking it out," he says in a dark tone. and then he's gone, exiting the room and the apartment as he makes his way to the garage to get his car.

oscar doesn't do anything in the car, doesn't do anything as you enter the restaurant and doesn't do anything when you sit down. you start to fall into a false sense of the security. and then the waiter comes over, asking what you'd like to order and you feel the device come to life, vibrating inside of you and sending sparks of pleasure. your fingers grip onto the menu as you stutter out your order while oscar watches with an amused smirk.

the waiter leaves and you're oh so close when everything stops and oscar grins at you when you glare at him. he keeps you on edge the whole night, teasing and bringing you close only to turn it off. he finally let's you cum once desert is served and you're gripping the table, knuckles turning white.

he watches the expression on your face with great interest, pushing his fork down into the cake and bringing it to your lips, telling you to open up. "come on baby, eat up. it's sweet, but I think I'll be having my dessert when we get home", and then he laughs at the way you silently whimper, the vibrator turned up to it's maximum, and your cheeks flushed. you wrap your lips around the fork, taking the food he's offering, chewing fastly because you can't wait to go home.

[auroraapple22]

They do trans the gay away. If you love trans people, you should talk to some detrans people, especially ones who transitioned as children and then changed their minds as an adult. I love to hear their stories and listen to their struggle. Anyone who is considering transitioning should also speak to some people who changed their mind. It's great to widen your point of view. Also, I have many lesbian friends. They literally talk about this exact thing happening in their community.

I stated that I wasn't gay in the above post to be honest about my opinion coming from an outsider. I said I'm not gay so people would know I was speaking from an outsider perspective. I'm sure you have plenty of opinions on womanhood despite being an outsider, I'm not the one going around saying you can't have or state those opinions. Only you are doing that.

And why do you come onto posts and call people out just to tell them to fuck off? That's not a take, I thought you had some trans takes you wanted to put out there.

I'm not trying to evade anything, you said I made it all up and I admitted that yes, personal opinions are made up. Yes I did write my own opinion and never presented it as a fact. Yes I do believe they are transing the gay away and I have reason to believe that.

What are your reasons for doing anything? You have a whole Tumblr blog dedicated to dishing out some trans takes but your only take is that opinions are made up and not factual (good job) and your other take is? That I wrote a fanfiction and should fuck off?

Ooo hot take, girl. I can tell you're a man by the way you argue without depth. A woman would be able to form a real opinion.

Also you're really hung up on the first paragraph of my argument but you don't want to address the second, interesting. If you're so confident that you are right, then go ahead and prove to me right here that they aren't transing the gay away and that it has never happened to anyone ever.

You know how you can't? It's because it's a matter of opinion, not fact.

The whole fanfic I wrote about transing the gay away was made up, it was my opinion. So I still am not quite getting your point? I answered immediately that what I said was an opinion and yet I never addressed it.

You must struggle a lot with reading comprehension. It must be difficult to read my essay style rants and ravings. Maybe you should stick to pictures and videos? Like maybe you should stick to tiktok? Blog websites tend to have a lot of fanfics about the bloggers opinions.

Lesbians don’t like dick.

[himluv]

I'm having a lot of thoughts and feelings about Lucanis's quest line. This all started when I was talking myself through what I consider critiques of the game - things I didn't like (which is a whole other post tbd). And I sort of stumbled into how I felt in the initial moment when I realized Illario really had betrayed Lucanis.

My immediate reaction was... Disappointment. And I thought I was disappointed because it felt too easy and out of character, but as I talked myself through it (verbal processing ftw) I think I stumbled onto the truth of the matter. Or at least, it feels true to me.

I read The Wigmaker Job and The Wake multiple times before VG released. Lucanis was my #1 hope for a companion before they were announced. I know and love these idiot Dellamortes.

So when the game took every opportunity to tell me Illario betrayed Lucanis, I didn't believe it. It was TOO obvious, too heavy-handed. And Illario loves his cousin, so surely there must be a twist.

I kept waiting, kept denying, until Bloodbath when it became pretty fucking clear that Illario was, if not directly responsible, definitely involved in Lucanis's imprisonment in the Ossuary. The betrayal was real. And I screamed at my TV and threw a pillow and had to take a break.

Now, here's why I think this is actually an example of brilliant writing:

The game told me over and over and over again that Illario betrayed Lucanis. And, because I did my homework and read the tie-in media, I liked Illario too much to believe it was him. Because I am trained by a lifetime of consuming narratives to believe that the obvious culprit is NEVER the actual culprit, I denied the reality the game kept presenting.

I said, "nope. No way. Not Illario."

Just.

Like.

Lucanis.

The game manipulated me into a similar (if not identical) viewpoint as Lucanis, until we were both forced to accept and face the truth. The terrible thing is not only possible, it's true. It happened. And no amount of lying to yourself will change that.

Which is also the entire theme about Spite. About acknowledging the trauma you've experienced and then finding a way to live with and through it. You can't keep hiding from it. It won't go away.

Lucanis's whole story is: the terrible thing happened. You can't undo it, can't unsee it. If you do nothing, then you will never be free of it. So, what do you do now?

And that's what Illario's betrayal is - an external version of the inner struggle Lucanis is battling.

Basically, once I realized how beautifully the writing maneuvered me through this narrative, I stopped thinking about any potential "bad" writing. This game is brilliant and I will not be taking questions at this time.

[kurogane2512]

Head empty just thoughts of Cabernet kissing your neck.....in a hot manner

You were merely changing clothes when you felt your lover's presence behind you, her hands roaming over your curves. She begins by parting your hair to place a gentle, electrifying kiss on your nape. The action makes you arch into her and she sensually drags her arms around to hug your body. She feels your head tilt forward as she presses her lips deeper into your nape, her tongue lapping up your skin before pulling away. She moans at your taste, praising how sweet you are and how she just wants to devour you.

"Ahhh, my love....Mmm, your taste is simply divine~"

She then turns you around and pushes you down the nearest surface— even if it's the floor, and immediately straddles you. You can feel her lustful gaze staring at you, her tongue dripping over her lips as her hands caress your neck. She feels the bend and curve of your neck, the bulge in your throat as you swallow in nervousness, the softness of your skin and the delicious taste she's addicted to. She wants to be patient and feel you up more, but she can't hold back from diving forward and placing her mouth on your neck. You gasp when she places a wet and open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone, but you know there's a lot more she plans to do.

"Aaah.... More.... I want you, love~" Cabernet pants, clearly becoming more desperate as time passed.

"Mmm, you are so sweet...." She moans against your skin as her tongue laps up your neck in a long strip reaching up to your jaw.

She places extra emphasis when she licks over your throat, dragging her tongue extremely slowly and deeply to savour it. The bulge of your throat runs over the tip of her tongue, and she playfully teases it by circling over it for a moment. You moan from inside, your suppressed voice sending vibrations to her which makes her sigh in ecstasy. She can't hold back from making another wet, open-mouthed kiss on your neck, this time practically engulfing your throat in her mouth and biting it. You groan at the sensation of her teeth grazing your skin, her eyes becoming hooded as pleasure surged through her looking at your state. She needs you more, and she needs you now.

Her previous slow pace is no more as she proceeds to kiss, lick, bite and ravage your neck in a lustful daze. Her crimson lipstick is smeared all over your neck, the shape of her lips barely visible as she smudged everything with her licking and biting. You were surprised she even stayed at just your neck so far, but you could tell she was more than ready to mark the rest of your body with the way her hands clenched your shirt and almost ripped it. She smirks when she meets your gaze and licks her lips before licking yours too and biting your lower lip.

"You have no idea how much I waited for you to come back the whole day..... Aaah, I need to taste you more. I can never have enough of you, my love~"

[shamelessexplosions]

I'm about 8 years late with this but one thing in the Civil War dispute I have never seen anyone from either side point out (and I could just be completely wrong on this):

There is no indication Steve actually knew Bucky killed Tony's Parents

Steve knew it was Hydra because, and as far as I am aware ONLY because of Zola's little exposition scene in Winter Soldier where he shows a bunch of newspapers clippings of things Hydra is responsible for, including Howard and Maria Stark's death.

I repeat: things HYDRA is responsible for. So, yes, Cap knew Hydra killed the Starks, and knew Bucky was working for Hydra. That does not mean, because of that little exposition scene, Cap decided, 'oh yes, in the last 70 years Hydra has only had one man doing all their assassinations, so that must mean Bucky killed Howard and Maria.'

The thought it might have been him could have occurred to Steve, but either way, that would be a theory, and not something Steve has any reason to tell Tony.

For further proof, this exchange from Civil War straight after Tony & Steve watched the security footage:

Tony: "Did you know?"

Steve: "I didn't know it was him."

Tony: "Don't give me that shit, Rogers. Did you know?"

Steve: "...Yes."

To me at least, that 'yes' means Steve knew Hydra, as an organisation, killed Stark's parents, and he elected not to tell Tony, which he is shown to have found out in Winter Soldier so we know that. But his initial statement, "I didn't know it was him", we have no evidence wasn't entirely truthful.

(Whether Tony hears that 'yes' as 'yes I knew Bucky killed your parents' or 'yes I knew your parents death wasn't an accident/orchestrated by Hydra' is ...debatable, but either way I can't see any reason to believe Steve meant the latter, especially since he has already said he knew it wasn't Bucky specifically.)

Why didn't Steve tell Tony Hydra killed his parents?

I can think of a few reasons, whatever side of the Civil War divide you are you can probably come up with more:

1. Steve knew Zola was trying to distract Steve and Nat when he showed those newspapers, so was just trying to keep them engaged, and hinting there might be more to the death of an old friend and get Steve emotional would be a great way to do that. Steve might have suspected it was true, but with no actual evidence he didn't want to open Tony's old wounds.

2. The avengers were going after Hydra post-Winter Soldier, and Steve was worried about what Tony might do/how reckless he might be/didn't trust him enough to risk telling him the people they were targeting killed his parents.

3. It was more than 30 years in the past. If Steve didn't know it was Bucky, it would be likely the person who did it (or at least authorised it) was long dead or unfindable (again, 30 years cold case, no evidence except in a bunker in nowhere siberia that Zemo spent a year searching for when he knew exactly what he was trying to find), so there would be no justice to get, so it would be only hurting Tony for no reason.

But the point is there are a lot of reasons Steve wouldn't tell Tony (admittedly a lot aren't very good or wishful thinking, and Steve probably should have said something, but it is a common theme across the MCU that Steve doesn't always have as much faith in Tony as he should (and then sometimes Tony builds Ultron because he got scared and you can understand why Steve might not trust him when emotional), I'm not here to idolise either of them or say either were completely right in this movie, just point out one thing I see a lot of people complain about). A lot of those reasons don't hold if Steve knew that it was Bucky, and we will never know if Steve might have told him if he did, but you can't blame Steve for not telling Tony something he didn't know himself.

[obey-me-hoe]

Yes!!! I feel like most of the brothers don't want to be experiencing their sins but they don't have a choice. I'm sure at one point or another they've each had thoughts of "I don't want to feel like this or I don't want to do this" but it's so hard/near impossible to control so they just give in. Honestly it's gotta be exhausting.

I've always hated how badly they treat Mammon for something he can't control!!! It's no different from any of the other brothers acting on their sins but for some reason they don't see it like that. I've seen people say that it's because his actions affect/hurt the other brothers but they fail to see that that's also the case with several of the brothers. Levi reflexively summoning Lotan because he's jealous destroys their home and resources and has the potential to physically hurt everyone. Beel eating all the food in the house so there is none left for the others and also driving up their grocery bill so high that it could lead to financial ruin (not to mention he's destroyed whole walls and shit because someone ate his food). Satan has destroyed various parts of HOL in a fit of rage and has the potential to seriously injure anyone near him while he's like that. They seem to forgive all these things but when Mammon steals something they suddenly act like he's the worst demon in the world. Obviously what he's doing isn't good but it should be treated the same as when one of the others act on their sin.

As for the "Mammon feels like if he doesn't have everything, he has nothing" part, that shit hit me deep but I totally agree. His greed makes him want more but I feel like he'll never be able to get enough so he'll always feel like he has nothing and the cycle will keep repeating itself.

I also feel like he's trying to fill this hole he has inside him by getting as much material things as he can. It's like something is missing within him but he doesn't know what so he uses material possessions to distract him from it. Sure it helps fill the void for a bit but it never makes that terrible empty feeling go away so he keeps on buying and stealing and selling in hopes that something will eventually fill that hole. I feel like he puts on his "Great Mammon" act as a way to protect himself and hide the fact that he's hurting inside.

You mentioned Mammon and my brain just locked in ready to ramble on and on about him. I have a lot of feelings about Mammon if you couldn't tell 😂

If you think about it, the twins are the ones who suffer the most with their sins. The other brothers know how to control their sins well, especially Satan, he can keep his wrath at bay, or calm himself: because they can control their emotions, since their sins are mostly related/correlated to one or to a feeling, not to a physical need, like the twins. Beel is hungry all the time, and Belphie is tired most of it. It’s not like Beel can supress his hunger, he can try, but it wouldn’t work. He will eventually have to eat; same thing happens with Belphie, he can’t help but feel sleepy, and the only solution to it is to sleep. For example, Mammon isn’t greedy all the time, his sin is “activated” when something triggers it - opportunity makes the thief - but we cannot say the same for the twins. Thoughts? :c

[ariestrxsh]

🍕 content warning: smut, praise, jealousy, masturbation, oral (f! & m!receiving), edging, begging, unprotected sex, light choking, sub!pizzaboy!chris, dom!boss!reader

🍕 author's note: this series follows sub!pizzaboy!chris and his tendency to mix business and pleasure. in part one, he sleeps with a customer after delivering pizza to her. in part two, he sleeps with a cop that pulls him over for speeding. now he must use his magnetic charm to seduce his boss to avoid getting in trouble for coming back late from a delivery.

🍕 summary: you can't help but get a little jealous when you find out your favorite employee, chris, has been sharing his meat with everyone but you.

pizza guy part three

"That delivery should have only taken twenty minutes. Why did it take you an hour and a half?" You inquired, peering up from the nightly paperwork at Chris, who had just walked through the front door of the otherwise empty pizza shop.

He could immediately feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you.

Chris was your best employee when he wanted to be, but he was constantly pushing the boundaries with you and taking advantage of how much you let him get away with. You could never fire him, though, and he knew that.

He had too many redeeming qualities. He was always covering shifts, bringing in good reviews, and working without complaining. He was also extremely polite and had a lot of respect for authority, always calling you ma'am and asking what you needed from him.

Chris' only downfall was that he couldn't help but mix business and pleasure - always getting high on the job and entertaining the women who were metaphorically lined up for him in between deliveries and sometimes on deliveries.

He always had a good excuse, though. And when he didn't have an excuse, he'd turn on the charm. He saw the way you looked at him, your hungry gaze that would linger for a few seconds too long, and he recognized the need in your voice, every word coated with lust. He knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he wasn't above using that to his benefit.

"Chris. Where the hell have you been?" You repeated, interrogating him. "Sorry, ma'am.." he apologized, forcing a pout. "I got pulled over," which wasn't technically a lie. "Oh, Chris. You poor thing," you responded, your tone immediately changing as you walked over to him, giving the sweet boy a hug.

"Did you get a ticket?" You wondered, cradling his flushed face. "No, ma'am. Almost. I think the police officer has a little bit of a crush on me," Chris said, his blue eyes flickering back up at yours as he tried to hold back a smirk. Can't blame her, you thought, studying his handsome features as his seemingly innocent smile stared back at you.

You detected a scent on Chris, one you could recognize anywhere and one you'd already addressed with him. "Chris. Are you stoned right now?" You glared at him, looking at the redness in the whites of his eyes, dropping your hand from his face. "What?! No!" He objected defensively, avoiding eye contact.

"There's no way you just got pulled over. If a cop looked at you for longer than two seconds, you'd be in the back of the cop car in cuffs right now. I bet you were at your dealer's house," you accused him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm not lying, ma'am. She did put me in cuffs," Chris responded, his cock stirring in his jeans as he recounted the events that took place earlier in the night. "You mean to tell me, you went from being cuffed to walking away without even getting a ticket?" You shot him a skeptical look.

He showed you his wrists, pointing out the red marks left behind from the metal that dug into them under the weight of himself and the cop while she riding him. "Don't worry about how I got off, ma'am. All's that matters is that I did," Chris responded, his gaze locked on yours.

You bit down on your lip, imagining Chris in restraints, offering to do anything to keep a clean driving record. You knew it was wrong. After all, he was your subordinate, but that was another reason you could never fire him.

He was so hot, and he knew it. He had this way of looking at you and talking to you when he knew he was about to get into trouble that immediately made you melt. You couldn't stay mad at him. Not even if you wanted to.

"Chris, you gotta be careful. I don't care you if you smoke weed, but you can't keep doing it on the job! You could have gotten yourself into big trouble tonight!" You jabbed your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look.

The truth was, you'd bail him out of jail if you could, but as much as you wanted to protect Chris from the consequences of his actions, you could only do so much when it came to the law. "I'm only hard on you because I care about you," you whispered, caressing his cheek.

"I know, but it makes me feel so good. Don't you like things that make you feel good, ma'am?" Chris asked, a bit of seduction seeping into his tone. You stood in silence for a moment, studying his pretty blue eyes and his pouty lips as he looked you up and down. You avoided his question.

"You know, Chris. I read a really interesting review someone left a while back about you while you were gone," you smirked, sauntering back over to your desk and pulling up the review on the computer. "Was it a good one?" He wondered, his facial features softening as he hoped you were about to start praising him.

"I don't know, you tell me. 'Their driver, Chris, has the best Italian sausage in town. He always goes the extra mile to please the customer,'" you read it word-for-word. "What could she have meant by that, huh?" You wondered with a bit of jealousy lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"I think she just really liked my meat, ma'am. I mean, the shop's meat," he corrected himself, giving you another sultry smile. "Is it the shop's meat? Because I certainly haven't been getting any," you remarked, glancing down at the outline of his half-hard cock in his jeans.

"Oh, ma'am. It would be so wrong," Chris purred, secretly enticed by the moral complexity of the idea of sleeping with his boss. His eyes dropped to your figure as his imagination took over, picturing how certain parts of your body would jiggle while riding him.

"Makes it even hotter, doesn't it? How wrong it is? What do I have to do to get a taste of your meat, huh?" You asked, getting up from your desk and slowly making your way towards him again. "All's you have to do is ask, ma'am," Chris responded with allure in his tone, taking a step closer to you.

"Well, I finished everything while you were getting pulled over," you smirked. "Why don't you come home with me, sweetie? It's the least you could do. I'll take really good care of you," you flirtatiously responded, leaning in and kissing his neck. You took both his hands and placed them on your waist.

"Oh, yes, ma'am. Please take me home with you. Take good care of me," he whimpered as he tilted his head to the side to give you better access, immediately giving into your advances.

Your lips were so soft, and Chris couldn't get enough of the way they felt on the sensitive nerve endings on his neck, sending blood rushing to the tip of his cock as a few luscious moans escaped.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You cooed, running your fingers along the bulge in his pants as your kisses grew slower, deeper, and more passionate. "Yes, ma'am," Chris mewled, grinding against your palm.

"Down, boy," you said, smiling and petting his package through his jeans as you retreated from kissing his neck. He nearly sobbed when you pulled away. "Oh, ma'am. You're so cruel. Getting me all riled up when we still have a long drive ahead of us," he whispered, already feeling lightheaded from the way you handled him.

"You were cruel first. Leaving me here all alone while you entertain other women. Don't you know how bad I need you here with me, Chris?" You wondered, your words drenched in envy as you delicately ran your hand across his chest.

Of course, you meant it in a professional sense, needing him at the store to help you close up, but you also meant it in a much more primal sense, and he did know. He'd known for a while now, but Chris wasn't the type to make the first move. He'd been waiting for you to finally say it. He nodded.

"Show me how bad you need me," he seductively whispered, tempting you. "Let's lock up, shall we?" You said, taking Chris by the hand, leading him towards the front door, and shutting off all the lights on your way out.

The two of you stepped out into the dark, chilly night, the breeze biting at your nose and stinging your lungs as you inhaled. You slipped the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked, and you tugged on the freezing cold handle for good measure.

Chris followed you to your nice, shiny, black SUV and climbed into your passenger seat. You started the ignition, your engine roaring as it turned over. You turned on the heat, placing your palm in front of the fan, waiting for the air to warm up.

Chris was still rock hard, his eager cock straining against the denim fabric he wore and his mind swirling with the possibilities of what you were going to do with him once the two of you made it back to your place.

"So, what really happened with that cop?" You deviously wondered, glaring at him before looking back at the road you started down. Chris blushed. "She handcuffed me and put me in the back of her car. Then whatever you think happened is probably what happened next," Chris smugly suggested.

You bit your lip, letting your imagination run wild. "And the customer, Chris? You naughty boy," you clicked your tongue at him, shaking your head. His head fell lazily against the headrest as he peered over at you with a submissive expression.

"Ma'am. I promise I'm a good boy. I don't have a naughty bone in my body," Chris lustfully responded, his cock beginning to twitch in his pants as his eyes danced over your lips, imagining how they'd feel wrapped around him. "Well, maybe one," he quietly admitted, shifting around, trying to adjust his aching erection.

"Take it out for me, Chris," you demanded. "Right now?" He asked, an upward inflection in his voice as his brows flew up. "Yes. Show me that pretty cock that the girls can't get enough of, hmm?" You hissed, placing your hand on his thigh and making it jump again. "Yes, ma'am," he nodded, unclasping his belt, undoing his button, and lowering his zipper.

Your eyes shifted between the road and his dick, favoring one more than the other as he started to pull it out. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slightly open at the sight. "You like what you see, ma'am?"

You couldn't find the words to describe just how much you did, so you settled for a subtle nod. Its size was intimidating and intriguing all at the same time. He went to wrap his long fingers around his veiny shaft, but you swatted his hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you could play with it," you teased him. He gave you a pout, his brows turning up in a look of anguish. "But I need it," Chris whined.

"I thought you said you were a good boy, hmm? Don't good boys listen and do what they're told?" You purred, playing upon Chris' praise kink and his need for your approval. He hesitantly nodded. "Then behave, Chris." You lightly patted his thigh again, driving him mad with your touch. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Why don't we play a game? And if you're a good boy and play the game correctly, then I'll let you touch with it," You suggested, running your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "What kind of game?" Chris wondered, eager to let his hands wander below his waist.

"The kind of game where you tell me what happened with that customer who left that review while you stroke yourself, but you have to do exactly as I say. And you better listen and tell me exactly what happened or else you're in big trouble," you told him.

"But ma'am, I'm gonna get in trouble with you anyway," Chris quietly pouted, worried you were going to fire him for lying about his slashed tires that night.

"Oh, Chris. You could never be in trouble with me as long as you tell the truth," you cooed, softly running the back of your hand along his cheek. "You promise?" He timidly asked. "I promise," you replied, and you meant it.

"Go ahead, Chris. Start touching it," you voiced, giving him permission. His hand moved towards his cock, firmly gripping it, and he let out a relieved sigh as he started slowly stroking.

"So, tell me, Chris. Who instigated the interaction? You or her?" You interrogated him, glancing between the road and his swollen head, a wet patch forming on the front of your panties. "She did, ma'am," Chris told you.

"Did you go inside her house?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know I'm not supposed to, but.." Chris started to say. "But what? Answer me, Chris."

"Yes, ma'am. I did go into her house," Chris whimpered, his gaze meeting yours. "How'd she get you to stay, hmm?" You purred, watching Chris' facial features soften as he relaxed into his pleasure.

"She made me a cup of hot cocoa and started kissing my neck. She told me to call you and give you an excuse as to why I couldn't come back to work. Told me she'd make it worth it," Chris admitted, looking nervously at you with his blue eyes.

You gasped. "You naughty boy," you narrowed your gaze at him, a little annoyed that he had faked an excuse to get out of work but a little turned on by the fact that he'd done it to get his dick wet. "She made me call you while she was sucking me off," Chris replied, a smirk forming in the corner of his pink lips.

"You called me while she sucked you off?" You repeated what he just told you to make sure you heard him correctly. You squeezed your thighs together as you pictured him on the phone with you while he had his cock in another woman's mouth. "Mhmm," Chris nodded, pumping his length faster as it quivered against his palm.

"Slow down, Chris. You're gonna have to make yourself last a long time, so don't get too carried away," you smirked at him, thinking about how long you were gonna make him wait to finish. He took a deep breath and slowed the pace. "That's very naughty of you, sweetie," you responded in a voice just above a whisper.

The rest of the drive to your destination, you teased Chris, trying to extract information from him about his most recent sexual encounters, and he spilled the details to you relunctantly. Despite his hesitancy, his cock gave him away, jerking at every word you spoke that jogged his memory.

"Did she ride you, Chris?" You provocatively asked, and you watched it twitch again, listening closely as a soft whine passed through his lips. "I think she did.." you answered your own question, giving him a playful smile.

"You like it when the girl's in charge, don't you? You love to be bossed around in bed," you insinuated, and you watched Chris blush and nod in response as he ran the tip of his thumb through his precum, spreading it around on his sensitive head.

The banter between you and Chris was enticing to say the least, and the whole time you were soaking wet, buzzing with excitement about what Chris would be like in bed and how good his pretty dick would feel lodged inside of you while you bounce up and down on it.

You saw how close he was getting as you turned onto your street, and before he could finish, you stopped him. "Be a good boy, Chris. Put it away for a second. His eyes were filled with hurt and desperation, but he nodded and did as he was told.

Once you pulled into your garage, you turned to Chris, gently grabbing onto his hair and pulling his face just a few inches from yours as you locked your hungry gaze onto his.

"Look. Normally, I'd invite you in, give you something to drink, offer you something to eat, show you around. I don't have the fucking patience for that right now, Chris. What we're gonna do is go straight to my room, and you're gonna be a good boy for me and let me use you however I want for as long as I want. Got it?" You demanded.

Chris obediently nodded, his face conveying desire. You took Chris' hand, leading him in through your warm and cozy house that smelled like apple cinammon. You guided him up your stairs and into your bedroom.

You pulled him into a passionate kiss, your mouth crashing into his as the sexual tension between the two of you built to an all-time high. His pretty moans vibrated against your lips as you reached under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against his hip bones as you hooked them onto the hem of the material.

You pulled away long enough to pull his uniform off over his head, and you quickly dropped to your knees. Chris looked down at you, wetting his lips as he silently begged you with his eyes to do what he thought you were going to do. You unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, and pulled down his pants and his underwear.

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as if you were getting ready to please his cock, but you couldn't let him finish without a little more teasing. Instead, you retreated, standing to your feet as a look of disappointment seeped into Chris' expression.

It was just as hard for you as it was for him. You'd imagined this scenario a hundred times, and you couldn't wait to hear the pretty sounds he'd make while you suck on it, but the fact that you'd been waiting so long for it, made you want to savor every moment, every kiss, every touch..

You gently pushed him back onto your bed, and his eyes danced over you while he propped himself up on his elbows as you shed off your own layers, letting them fall to your feet. You climbed on top of him, pulling him into another passionate kiss as the two of you rolled around on your silky soft sheets.

"Be a good boy for me, Chris. Let me sit on your pretty face," you demanded from him, but it didn't take much persuasion. "Oh, yes, ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice," Chris eagerly replied as you gently pushed him down, guiding him to lie flat on his back.

You straddled his face, placing your knees on either side of his head and lowering your pussy onto his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you as close to him as possible as his tongue explored your folds, flickering back and forth over your sensitive clit.

You entangled your fingers in his messy hair, and you gently tugged on it, causing him to moan against you while his eyes rolled back in his head. The vibration that passed through his lips reverberated against your vulva, pleasure rushing through you.

You gently rocked your hips back and forth, riding Chris' face and grinding against his silky, wet tongue. You peered down into his gorgeous blue eyes as you combed through his brown locks. "You're such a good boy, Chris," you whispered, enjoying the feeling of his lips as he wrapped them around your bundle of nerves and started tenderly sucking on it.

"Yes, sweetheart. Just like that," you encouraged him. He nuzzled into your heat, relishing in the lovely sounds that left your lips and the way you rutted against his face, all testaments to how good he was making you feel. He could eat you for hours.

He reached up and grabbed your breasts, gently rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. He moaned against your clit a few more times as he delicately sucked on it, rapidly flicking his tongue against it. You felt pressure building in your lower stomach as you tightened the grip of your thighs around Chris' head.

"Good boy," you whimpered again, your body beginning to shiver as your pleasure reached a crescendo. His cock twitched at your praises, and his hands moved to your waist, stabilizing you as he admired the way you looked from this angle.

He took your clit between his lips and gently tugged on it until you were coming undone. You threw your head back and started fervently grinding against his face, losing yourself in your orgasm as you released onto his tongue.

He lapped up every last bit of your wetness, savoring the sweetness that filled his senses. Once you were completely satisfied, he removed his mouth from your pussy. "Did I do a good job, ma'am?" Chris asked, his big, blue eyes staring back at yours with his chin covered in your juices.

"Oh, sweetheart. You always do. You were perfect. Such a good boy," you purred breathlessly as you ruffled his hair once more, starting to lift yourself off of him. "Get comfortable, sweetie. Let me take care of you," you cooed.

"Yes, please," he politely answered, nestling among your mess of pillows and propping himself up against your headboard. He loved it when you took charge. He kept his eyes locked on yours as you placed yourself between his legs.

He'd been hard for the past hour, desperate for you to take it into your mouth, but you were still savoring every moment, and he secretly adored all the teasing. You drew a line from the base of his dick all the way up his length with your soft tongue, and it twitched in response.

You gently kissed his tip, slurping up the shiny, clear fluid that was slowly leaking out as you slowly stroked his dick. He let out a soft, pleasured sound as your tongue made contact with all his sensitive nerve endings, and you started delicately flicking it across his swollen, pink head.

"How's that?" You asked in a soft voice. "So good," he whined as you started combining the two techniques, sucking on it while your tongue got to work, fluttering around in the best-feeling places. Pretty noises poured from his lips as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly on his length and learning every vein with your tongue.

He smiled down at you and tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head, silently asking you to take more of him. You listened by sliding your lips all the way down his shaft until he was hitting the back of your throat. He gasped as you took it all so effortlessly. "How'd you learn to do that, ma'am?" He whimpered, peering down at you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as you chuckled, humming around the base.

You sped up your movements, sloppily drooling and making a mess all over his cock. "Please let me cum. Please," Chris moaned, his luscious voice spilling into the air. Despite how politely he asked, you took him out of your mouth long enough to give him a smirk and shake your head no.

"Please, please, please," his jagged breaths becoming whiny and needy. You ignored his begging and continued your pace, bringing him dangerously close to the edge before withdrawing all stimulation. He let out a few strangled moans as his cock twitched some more, begging to be sucked on again.

You loved how responsive he was and how his body language reacted to every subtle touch. You wrapped your lips around him again, and a stream of lustful noises flowed from him. You looked into his blue eyes that were silently pleading with you. You could see how desperate he was, which made you want to edge him even more.

"Please," he whispered again as if you didn't hear him the first half a dozen times he asked for you to let him finish. "You're going to have to be a good boy and wait," you teased him, removing your mouth again and shifting around on the bed. He responded with a subtle nod.

You began to straddle him, guiding his rod towards your entrance, and you let out a delighted hum as you lowered yourself down onto him. Chris' head gently fell back and tapped the headboard as you squelched around him.

"Oh, Chris. You're so big," you moaned. "So I've been told," Chris chuckled. He couldn't help how much that compliment stroked his ego. You started to ride him, your breasts bouncing in his face as he latched onto your nipples, tenderly sucking on each one. His hands wandered towards your ass, and he squeezed your soft flesh, whimpering against your chest.

"Good boy," you praised him as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his head. You leaned down and started sucking on a sensitive place on his neck, and he whined into your ear as he tried to hold on while you were actively working against him. "Please let me cum," he asked again patiently and politely with desire in his expression.

"Not yet, pretty boy," you cooed into the crook of his neck as you continued lightly sucking on it. Whimpers escaped his mouth as you picked up the pace, your strides becoming faster and rougher. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he tried to hold on to please you.

He was always able to hold the different perspectives of you in his mind, both the professional view he had of you and the sexual desire he felt toward you. He couldn't help but delight in the way the two versions of you merged in front of him. He'd always loved how bossy you were, but the way you were ordering him around in bed gave your bossy nature a whole new meaning to him, and he adored it.

He loved the way you bounced on him, your moans becoming louder and more urgent. He could feel you clenching around his cock, which made it even harder for him to fend off his long-awaited orgasm.

"Please, please, please," he begged some more, losing his composure. "Please let me cum, ma'am," he sweetly requested, his dick already beginning to throb inside of you. He wasn't exactly asking for your permission but more or less warning you that he couldn't hold off anymore.

"Yeah? You wanna cum?" You asked, peering into his bedroom eyes and examining his flushed, pink cheeks and the way he kept licking his lips. "More than anything, ma'am," he whimpered, his eyelids growing heavy and his mouth falling open.

"Only because you've been such a good boy," you commented, caressing his jawline with your thumb and moving your hand to his throat. You gripped his neck, lightly choking him which sent him over the edge.

A few strangled moans passed through his lips as his eyes rolled back and his head gently thumped against the headboard again. His climax hit him like a freight train, barreling through him and sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.

He shot his load up into you as you finished onto him, the room filling with both of your satisfied sounds. You involuntarily dug your nails into the flesh of his neck, intensifying how good it felt for him. You slumped forward, pulling him into a warm embrace as you throbbed around him.

"Chris, I've been wanting to do that forever," you breathlessly whispered into his ear. "Maybe I should make you jealous more often, huh? It really seems to get your attention," Chris smugly remarked, smirking at you. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have to try to get my attention. You just always have it."

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[decentwritings]

Chapter 4

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <--> next part

The diner gives off the same energy you get from the beach—warm, familiar, and buzzing with the chatter of regulars and clinking dishes. You feel a sense of relief wash over you as the door closes behind you, the chaos of the outside world fading for a moment. The smell of your uncle's cooking greets you like an old friend, grounding you.

Rudy waves you over from behind the counter, his grin wide and welcoming. "If it isn't my favorite niece! And Mabel! Come sit!"

You smile at Rudy's loud enthusiasm, but your mind still lingers on the distant pops you heard before. Mabel tugs on your sleeve, guiding you to a booth by the window. She's already chatting away, but you glance outside for a split second, keeping a watchful eye on the street.

"Hey," she says, her tone soft but insistent, pulling your attention back to her. "You with me?"

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just... keeping an eye out."

Jodie comes over with some water, smiling at how close you two are. You can already tell she has a few things to say just by the look on her face.

"I see you finally got her to let her guard down," Jodie says as she sets some utensils on the napkins she sets out. You purse your lips into a thin line, exhausted by this conversation already. "She's like her mother in that way."

You sit back, rubbing your temples when you hear Mabel chuckle.

She senses your discomfort so she shrugs. "I get the whole having your guard up," she bumps your shoulder with her gently. "But I showed her it's okay to relax around me."

You wish that were true, but right now, you're more on guard than ever—just not towards her. Your eyes keep scanning the diner, examining every person, every potential threat. You hate it. You hate not being able to fully relax around her, not showing her the side of you that she deserves—the dorky, carefree version that you know is buried somewhere under all the layers of vigilance.

Jodie hums, happily and almost dreamily. You raise a brow at her and she gets the hint. She raises her hands up in mock surrender then excuses herself. She tells you Rudy is whipping up a special specifically for you two, leaving you two alone.

Mabel pulls a journal out of her bag, something you've seen her do twice since you've met her. The first time at the beach after you avoided her for a couple days and now. The journal looks worn out, crinkled at the edges and you wonder if the journal was in the bag that fell in the water.

Mabel glances at you, noticing your gaze lingering on the worn-out journal. She flashes a small, almost sheepish smile as she flips it open. "You curious?"

You shrug, but you can't help the slight raise of your eyebrows. "I mean, yeah..." you admit, shrugging again. "I suck at writing. I was always envious of people who were able to transfer their thoughts onto paper easily. And handwriting wise–I mean, I have chicken scratch for handwriting," you tell her, scoffing at yourself.

She chuckles softly, thumbing through the pages before stopping at a blank one. "It's nothing deep. Just a place for me to jot down thoughts, random ideas—sometimes things I want to say but can't."

You nod, trying to imagine her sitting down to write after the beach or in moments when you're not around. "It looks like it's been through a lot."

She glances at the worn edges, smiling. "It has. It was in my bag when it fell in the water. Got lucky though, most of it survived." Her fingers trace the cover as if she's remembering something.

You're tempted to ask more, but instead, you lean back and offer her a genuine smile. "It suits you. Mysterious, a little beat up, but still standing strong."

Mabel laughs, shaking her head as she looks down at the journal. "I'll take that as a compliment." She pauses, then adds, "Maybe one day I'll let you read some of it... if you're lucky."

Your smile widens, and a warm feeling stirs in your chest as you realize just how much Mabel trusts you. She's offering you a glimpse into her inner world, a place where her most personal thoughts and ideas live.

Then it hits you; the trust she has shown you. Yet you haven't shown her not even half of the trust she's shown you.

"You know I trust you, right?" you say, voice suddenly quiet, glancing at her. Mabel raises an eyebrow, her expression curious but kind. "I trust you, really, I do." You're not sure if you're trying to convince her or yourself.

"Of course. Why wouldn't you?"

You shrug, forcing a smile. "I just hate that I can't turn it off sometimes." Her head tilts, confused by your words. "I feel like...like I'm not here. I want to be present, really be here with you."

Mabel tilts her head, her eyes searching yours. "You are here with me," she says softly, her hand finding yours under the table. "Even if you're keeping an eye out, I know you're still with me."

Her words bring you a sense of calm you weren't expecting, a reminder that even if you're cautious, she sees through the armor.

You feel relief wash over you, her words sinking in. They say the transition to civilian life is difficult and you wanted to prove that wrong but you find yourself proving it right more times than not. To know that Mabel has some sort of understanding about it settles your nerves a little. You can protect her, be on guard, while not having to worry you're making her feel unwanted.

It's hard to let go of the instinct to always be on alert, but with Mabel, it feels like there's a part of you that can start to relax. She's patient with you, understanding in ways you didn't expect, and that makes you want to give her more of yourself—more of the version you want to be around her.

"Thank you," you say, your voice low but filled with sincerity. "I promise you, I'm trying. I want to be here. With you."

Her hand squeezes yours, twice and you glance down at your intertwined fingers. You nod in understanding, no words shared anymore, and allow her to write in her journal.

Just as the moment settles between you, Rudy appears from the kitchen with plates in hand, breaking the tension. He gives a knowing look as he places your food on the table. "Special order for two."

You both dig in, with Rudy taking a seat to join you. He starts to talk and takes advantage of times you have your mouth full to tell Mabel embarrassing stories. You can only glare, defending yourself after you've swallowed what's in your mouth.

In the end, you both have a great time. You enjoy hearing Mabel's laugh, seeing her smile and feeling the lightness of the moment. It's a simple thing, sharing a meal and listening to stories, but it feels like a step forward—a step towards the peace you've been chasing.

As the meal winds down, Rudy excuses himself, leaving you and Mabel alone once more. She's still smiling, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass absentmindedly, and you take a moment to just watch her. You realize that in this moment, surrounded by the sounds of the diner, with her laughter still echoing in your ears, you feel more present than you've felt in a long time.

You lean back in your chair, feeling something shift inside of you, a sense of gratitude for her patience and the ease she brings to your life. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just be—right here, with her, and nowhere else.

\\\\\\

Days pass, and you and Mabel are practically inseparable. She joins you at your nephew's field day, laughing as she cheers him on louder than anyone else. You watch her out of the corner of your eye, her enthusiasm infectious, making you smile more than usual. She fits into your world so seamlessly, like she was always meant to be here. She cheers you and Devin on in the three-legged race and cheers him up when you guys wind up in third place.

Then comes the last day of school. The two of you stand outside the building, waiting for your nephew. When the bell rings, he runs straight to Mabel, throwing his arms around her in excitement before even greeting you. You roll your eyes, pretending to be jealous, but deep down, you're glad they've bonded so easily. He hops into her car and practically begs her to go fast; because she's infamous for her driving.

Mabel laughs, ruffling your nephew's hair as she buckles him in. "I'm not getting in trouble with your aunt today," she teases, glancing at you with a playful smirk.

You cross your arms, shaking your head. Your nephew looks at you, arms crossing in a way that reminded you of your sister.

You look between them. "I'm not liking this duo...I feel outranked." You frown, earning a laugh from Mabel.

Devin pouts, slumping in his seat. "You're no fun," he mutters, but it's clear he's just teasing. He can't help but grin when Mabel cranks up the music, and soon enough, he's singing along, his earlier disappointment forgotten.

As you drive back home, you find yourself watching them interact in the rearview mirror, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

When you pull into your sister's driveway, Devin hops out of the car and races inside, yelling something about showing Mabel his latest toy car. He claims it can go as fast as Mabel's car. You chuckle, shaking your head at his excitement, but then your heart skips a beat when you notice a familiar car parked in front of the house.

Your mom.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, suddenly remembering she had planned to stop by today.

Mabel glances over, noticing your tension. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just... forgot my mom was coming over," you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. "She doesn't know you're here."

Before you can say anything else, your mom steps out of her car, already waving as she approaches. There's no backing out now.

"Faro!" she calls, then her eyes immediately land on Mabel. Curiosity flickers in her expression, but she smiles warmly. "And who's this?"

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling like a teenager caught sneaking someone into the house. "Mom, this is Mabel."

Your mom's smile widens, and she looks between the two of you knowingly. "Mabel." She says it like she's testing the name. Mabel nods, smiling at your mother shyly. "Well, it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you." She raises an eyebrow at you as she says this, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

It's a lie. You've never mentioned Mabel to anyone except your aunt and uncle. They only know because they've butt into your personal life.

Mabel, to her credit, handles the situation smoothly, shaking your mom's hand with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you too. Faro, here, has told me some great stories," she laughs, glancing at you.

You sigh quietly, hearing Mabel use your nickname making you... feel different. You've never minded the nickname, but Mabel had always called you by your name until now. You like hearing her say it. Now, you only think of the nickname as something you once were—a version of yourself from before everything changed, before you met Mabel, before life started feeling more complicated. It doesn't bother you, but it belongs to that past self, one that doesn't quite fit anymore.

You want to be that person again.

Mabel's use of the nickname stirs something inside you that's hard to explain, even to yourself. Mabel notices the subtle shift in your expression. Her brow furrows, like she's tempted to ask, but instead, she offers you a small, reassuring smile—one you're starting to understand more and more.

Your mom gives you that look—you know the one—the one that says she'll be grilling you about this later, but for now, she's on her best behavior. "Well, had I known you were coming, I would have brought more stuff to cook," She waves toward the bag of groceries she brought, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

You clear your throat, realizing you hadn't planned to stay for dinner. You only meant to hang with Devin until your sister got home.

"Umm, ma," you start but she cuts you off, like she knows what you have to say.

"Nope," she shakes her head and grins. "I'll go in and get set up after I check on that little monster," she laughs, leaving no room for you to argue.

Mabel attempts to follow your mother but you grab her hand gently, halting her movements. She looks back at you, curiosity filling her eyes. Your mother, with that extra mother sense, glances back at you both.

"There a problem?" She raises a brow.

You clear your throat awkwardly. "You need more ingredients, she needs more ingredients," you say to Mabel, and she laughs at your flustering mess of a speech. "We're gonna go get some more ingredients for you. We'll be–"

"Ahh," your mother wiggles a finger at you, shutting your idea down. "You can go. Mabel, come with me, I want to show you how to make the most popular Peruvian dish," your mom finishes, already pulling Mabel toward the house with a wink thrown in your direction.

You blink, left standing there as Mabel gives you a playful, helpless shrug before following your mom inside. You know exactly what's happening here—your mom is trying to get to know Mabel in her own way, and by the looks of it, Mabel's more than willing to humor her.

As you stand there, it hits you how quickly things have escalated. If the kiss is the start of a relationship, then technically, you and Mabel have only been together for a week. And she's meeting your mom already?

Mabel meeting your mom wasn't on the agenda today, or even for the next month and half she's here. But here they are now, bonding over dinner prep. You feel a strange mix of pride and nervousness. Part of you wants to storm in there and interrupt, but another part knows this is good. Maybe it's time to let your worlds mesh a little more, even if it feels like it's happening too fast.

You rub the back of your neck, chuckling to yourself as you glance toward the door. You can already hear your mom's laughter inside, and Mabel's responding with something you can't quite make out.

It's strange, hearing those two get along so naturally, but it also fills you with warmth. With Erin, it took your mother some time to even acknowledge her as your girlfriend. Your sister claimed she was being protective of her baby but you knew it was because your mom didn't think Erin was a good fit for you. She had been polite, sure, but it was clear your mom kept her distance. Things felt different with Mabel already. Your mom's openness, her immediate warmth toward Mabel, caught you off guard, and maybe that's why it feels like it's happening so fast.

Maybe, just maybe, you've found something real with Mabel, something that fits into your life in ways you hadn't expected.

A couple minutes pass and Mabel sneaks out of your sister's house for a second. You assume she managed to convince your mom to let her go but she tosses you her keys, and you catch it with your jaw dropped.

"Drive safe," she calls out then returns back into the house. You blow out a huff, shaking your head at her actions. Seconds later, her head pops out again and your hopes are up again. "Your mom said to buy limes–okay, bye!"

You stand there, keys in hand, still processing what just happened. Mabel's playful energy and the ease with which she's won over your mom leaves you stunned. You can't help but laugh, a mix of disbelief and affection bubbling up inside you.

Shaking your head, you hop into Mabel's car and start the engine. As you drive toward the store, your mind races, replaying the day's events. It's like everything is happening faster than you ever planned. But, at the same time, it doesn't feel wrong. It feels... right.

There's a comfort with Mabel that you can't quite put into words. Like all the pieces are finally falling into place.

When you arrive at the store and park, your thoughts are filled with Mabel, as they have been since you first met her. In the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar black van with some faded lettering on it. A chill runs down your spine, but you quickly shake it off, dismissing it as a coincidence. You don't want anything to ruin the warmth you feel today, so you rush to grab the items on your list, your mind focused on getting back to Mabel and your mom. You head inside, scanning the aisles with a distracted smile. Everything feels light, but a flicker of unease brushes against your subconscious.

You dart through the produce section, tossing a few limes into your basket, and then head toward the checkout. As you wait in line, your thoughts drift back to Mabel, imagining her laughter and the way her eyes light up when she's excited.

"Glad I caught you in person."

You furrow your brows and turn to see Nick standing there, appearing out of nowhere. You hadn't even noticed him before—lost in your thoughts, you hadn't scouted the store before going about your shopping.

"Nick," you say, forcing a smile. "Doing some shopping?"

Nick chuckles, but it sounds humorless. "Sure," he replies, clicking his tongue as he gestures toward the line that's moved up. You take a step forward, and he isn't far behind. "I got tired of your one-worded messages. And you've managed to dodge my calls pretty well. I got patience, but... to a limit." He grits out the last part, the tension in his voice rising.

You grip the basket's handle tightly, searching for more self-control, trying to ignore the unease twisting in your stomach.

"There's a tradeoff going on tonight at the usual place," he continues, lingering close behind you as the line shifts again. "One of the guys from the docks can't make it, and the other... well, he's a shitty liar, so he's out of commission until his hand heals."

You whip your head back, your heart racing as you try to hide your worry. You hope to God it's Charlie's hand that's broken and not Costa's. Not that Charlie deserves it but Costa is the least deserving of the two.

"Be there at eleven, or if rumors are true..." he lowers his voice, stepping closer to you, his breath brushing against your ear, "Mabel's face will be covered in bruises again."

A chill runs down your spine at his threat, and you take a shaky breath, forcing your expression to remain neutral. How does he know her name?

His lips quirk into a smirk. "Yeah," he drags out, almost giddily. "Mabel isn't a stranger to this world. She knows how things work. As do you. You know how things work in our world. You owe me, and I expect you to fulfill your end of the deal."

Your jaw clenches. You don't care how well Mabel may know of this world. She isn't part of this and you're not going to let them force her back in it.

"I'll be there," you say, narrowing your eyes as you fully turn to face him. "But if you go anywhere near her, I swear–"

"Swear what?" Nick interrupts, leaning in with a condescending grin. His eyes trace your face and his smiles widens. "You're cute when you're mad. But you have no leverage. Pay your idiot of a father's debt by doing what we ask, and if you do it right; no one gets hurt. Cool?"

A mix of anger and dread bubbles inside you. He nods, taking your lack of response as an answer of agreement. You turn back around and move up the line, noticing you're up next to checkout.

"Be happy it's just your girlfriend," Nick says still right behind you. "Had Mabel not showed up, it would've been your mom, sister or that little rugrat of a nephew–man, that kid is adorable." He laughs gently.

Your experience with the military is unknown to him. You're unsure if threats would be less if he knew. What you do know for sure is if he knew you were military, he would use that as an advantage. Oliver is military and they clearly use him to their advantage, so you can only imagine how Nick would spin your past to manipulate you further. The thought sends a cold wave of anger through you. You tighten your grip on the basket, fighting the urge to turn around and confront him again.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't test my patience if I were you," you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

Nick chuckles softly, as if he finds your bravado amusing.

You step up to the cashier, scanning your items quickly and trying to focus on the mundane task at hand instead of the threat looming over you.

"I'll see you at eleven," he pats your back, harsher than any man should push any average person. Lucky for you, you're not average. He earns stares with his actions but he doesn't pay any mind to it. "Don't be late." He winks, taking an apple you had on the conveyor belt.

Your heart races as you finish checking out, your mind racing with possibilities. You can't let Mabel or your family become collateral damage in Nick's twisted games.

As you leave the store, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in your head. You need a plan. Knowing your mother, she plans on talking Mabel's ear off until the late hours of the night. You hope you can get out by ten, have Mabel home by ten-thirty and be at the place by eleven.

You hop into Mabel's car, your heart still racing from the encounter with Nick. The thought of that apple in his hand irks you—an innocent gesture that feels loaded with intimidation. You shake your head, trying to focus on the road ahead.

As you drive back home, you mentally rehearse your plan. Your mother can talk for hours, but if you time it right, you can slip out before Mabel gets too comfortable. You glance at the clock on the dashboard—only a few minutes have passed since you left the store, but it feels like an eternity.

When you arrive home, you find your mother in the kitchen, excitedly chatting with Mabel about the dish they're preparing. The aroma of spices fills the air, mixing with the sound of laughter, and for a moment, the warmth of the moment makes you forget about Nick.

"You got the limes?" Your mother breaks you out of your stupor. Mabel's eyes are on you and you can tell she sees something is off about you. Either you're easy to read or she's just caught on to how you try to pretend everything is okay when it really isn't. You realize you left the groceries in the car so you excuse yourself to get them.

You're grabbing the stuff from the backseat when you see Mabel join you outside. She walks over to you, quiet and tentative, treading carefully as to not trigger your fight instinct.

Mabel stands in front of you, her eyes scanning your face for answers. She's always had this ability to see through the walls you put up, and today is no different. You can tell she's waiting for you to say something, but you're not sure where to start. You close the car door, trying to mask the tension you're feeling, but it's no use.

"What's going on?" she asks softly, taking a step closer. "You've been off since you got back."

You exhale, looking down at the bags in your hand as if they'll give you an excuse to avoid the conversation. But Mabel isn't going to let it go, not this time. Her voice is gentle but firm, and you know she won't let you keep avoiding the truth.

But you don't want her in this. Not after what Nick said. The less she knows, the better it is for her.

"Just saw an old friend," you lie with a shrug, forcing a smile.

Mabel narrows her eyes, clearly not convinced. She knows you too well to fall for a half-hearted answer like that. You have to be easy to read; which is shameful. You were trained to hide any sort of emotion. But it's like Mabel sees right past that. Her lips press into a thin line as she studies your face, searching for the truth you're holding back.

"An old friend?" she repeats, her voice calm but with an edge of skepticism. "And that's why you've been acting weird ever since you came home?"

You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure, but it's difficult under her gaze. She steps closer, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Weird? I just forgot the bags in the car," you shoot back, furrowing your brows.

Mabel nods, still not convinced. "Who was this friend?"

You still, fumbling with the bags in your hands. "Umm," you fumble with a lie. "A guy from an old job," your words comes out like a question, which doesn't help you.

"Old job?" Mabel arches a brow, stepping closer. "What old job?"

Your heart skips a beat as the lie begins to unravel. You can't tell her about Nick or the threat he made. Not when she's already too close to the fire. You avert your gaze, trying to focus on anything but her piercing eyes.

"Just a guy from a side job I did before," you mutter, shifting the bags in your hands to avoid her scrutiny. "Nothing important."

Mabel's expression hardens. She knows you're deflecting, and her patience is running thin. "Why do I feel like you're not telling me everything? You're acting like there's more to it than that."

You clench your jaw, frustration boiling inside. She's right—there's so much more, but you can't risk dragging her into this. Not with Nick's threat still hanging over your head. "Mabel, just drop it, okay? It was an old friend; he's a dick, and I don't like the guy."

Mabel's eyes narrow, clearly not satisfied with your answer. Her frustration is starting to show, but she takes a deep breath, trying to keep calm. "A guy you don't like, from a job you barely remember. And that's why you're acting so weird? That doesn't add up."

You're better off starting a fight than telling her the truth. Nick called her your girlfriend, and technically, she isn't.

"Why are you bombarding me with questions? It's not like you're my girlfriend," you scoff, walking past her, not missing the stunned expression on her face.

Mabel's face hardens, the hurt flashing in her eyes before she quickly masks it. She's not one to let emotions show easily, but you can tell your words stung.

"Right," she says, her voice cold. You turn to look at her, guilt troubling your stomach at the hurt expression on her face. "I'm not your girlfriend. So I guess I don't have the right to care about you, or to ask questions when you're clearly upset."

You pause, guilt creeping in as you realize what you just said, but before you can respond, Mabel steps back, distancing herself from you.

"Give me my keys."

Her words hang in the air, and you feel the weight of them pressing down on your chest. You didn't mean to hurt her, just shut her down, but now you've made things worse.

"Wait, Mabel, I'm sorry–"

"Look, I get being guarded, but have I not shown you that I'm here for you?" Mabel interrupts, her voice steady but tinged with frustration.

She's better at controlling her emotions than you are. Maybe you should have stayed in college. Maybe you have been more emotionally mature if you had.

She's staring at you, her arms crossed tightly, waiting for an explanation you're not sure you can give. "I've been patient, giving you space, but this—this is different."

You run a hand through your hair, the guilt and frustration mixing with the growing pressure of Nick's threats. "It's not like that," you say, your voice quieter now. "I just... I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Mabel repeats, her tone incredulous. "By pushing me away and lying to me? How does that protect me?"

You don't have a good answer. Not one that will fix the way she's looking at you right now, as if you're slipping further away from her.

"I don't want you involved in something you don't deserve to be a part of," you admit, voice low.

Mabel's eyes soften, but only slightly. "I can take care of myself. You don't have to shut me out. But I'm not going to stick around if this is how you're going to deal with things."

Her words sting more than you expected. You've been trying to keep her safe, trying to keep her at a distance from all of this, but in doing so, you're pushing her away—maybe for good.

"Now," she ignores the pained look in your eyes, "my keys." She holds her hand out.

You ignore a voice in the back of your head shouting at you to stop, to not give her her keys. To not let her walk away. But you're an idiot, who gives her her keys.

"Tell your mom I'm sorry," she snatches keys from your hand then walks to the driver's side. She pauses and looks at you.

The silence between you stretches painfully as Mabel pauses by the driver's side, her hand resting on the door handle. You can feel the weight of the moment, the finality in her movement, and it gnaws at you.

"You're not going to say anything?" she asks, her voice quieter now, almost fragile. She looks at you, waiting, hoping maybe you'll give her a reason to stay.

But you don't know what to say. Everything you've been holding back, all the fear, the threats, it's locked inside, and you can't bring yourself to drag her into that mess. You are your father's daughter. He never said anything either.

Then be different, you hear your grandfather's voice in the back of your head.

"I—" you start, but the words die in your throat. You see the disappointment flicker across her face as she turns away.

"Take care of yourself," she says, the sadness in her voice unmistakable before she climbs into her car.

You watch as she drives away, the tail lights fading into the distance, leaving you standing there in the cold emptiness of your driveway, feeling like you've just made the biggest mistake of your life.

Seven days. It's fitting, considering it's your favorite number.

You had seven perfect days with Mabel. It was bound to end someday. Whether with her leaving at the end of the summer or by your stupidity. How your father managed to keep your mother is beyond you. Your father was worse than you.

How did he do it?

You don't bother to even think of it, returning back into your sister's home with your head down. Your mother asks for Mabel and you come up with a better lie to her than you did Mabel. She makes you swear to invite Mabel over again, to treat her well because she loves her.

And you hate yourself for already disobeying your mother. You hate yourself even more because you do, too.

Three weeks since you met her. Seven days since you kissed her. And already, you love her.

[hersiisi]

pretty girl with her head held down (jk)

in which... you're insecure about your small breasts, but your boyfriend just adores them ♡ suggestive, pet names, kisses, short fic, no caps intended ~ 정국 x femreader.

genre is fluff with a dash of angst + spice :3

𐙚 my note ~ struggling rn. I hope I can bring some comfort to my girlies!

song rec - pretty girl by 4ever falling

you look in the mirror after your shower and feel pretty confident. you love yourself, but looking more and more makes things worse.

you put your breasts in your hands and gulp at the feeling - they're small - that's okay! you think to yourself for a moment before having your brain cloud with other thoughts.

you look lower and lose the small smile on your face when you see your chest peeking through between your breasts and your ribs outlining themselves by your stomach.

you sigh, "why?" the question lingers in the air, just for a moment before jungkook knocked on the bathroom door.

"baby, you okay?" he leans against the door and waits for an answer. he hears the faint sound of you slipping on some clothes, just before you open the door.

once you did, he saw you wearing his shirt - it was baggy on you, and he thought you looked breathtaking. especially with your hair damp, your makeup off, and your small image in front of him - he smiled softly, "what's the matter my love. you look a little upset."

you had your arms crossed over your chest, "nothing. just finishing up." jungkook heard the quickness in your voice and tilted his head at your body language.

his brows furrowed before realizing what was happening. this wasn't the first time he's seen you do this, but this is the first time he'll say something about it.

jungkook grabs you and puts you in his arms as he carries you back to the bathroom, placing you on the counter by the mirror.

"can you tell me the truth, sweetie?" jungkook's hands rested on your warm thighs and he lends a kiss to your cheek, kissing a little more, more on your neck and clavicle. he did this a lot to ease you when you were stressed.

you sigh, "I just- I don't...like my body."

when those words left your lips, jungkook was shocked, he pulled back and looked you in your eyes, feeling a little guilt and sadness take over his other emotions.

"why, yn. you're beautiful." jungkook grabbed your hands and put them in his. the way he looked at you was so genuine, you knew he was being honest.

"my boobs are small, my ribs show, I can't gain weight, just admit that maybe I'm not that perfect." you look at jungkook, your tears are being held back by your anxiousness but you could feel them coming through.

jungkook gives you a soft look; not upset, but something more relaxed. it was almost like he was proud of you for admitting this to him.

he looks in your eyes before slowly moving his eyes down to your lips, feeling a sense of protection over you. his hands roam your body, respectfully but tenderly.

jungkook licks his lower lip before speaking, "where do I start?"

those words made your belly erupt with butterflies. his hands squeezed your thighs gently, one hand traveled up to your waist and teasing the curve with his middle finger.

he brought his face closer to yours and kissed your forehead, "your body is beautiful. your body is yours. but most of all, I am blessed to hold it every night."

jungkook breathed softly against your neck skin, pushing his lips into the crook of your neck as his hands cup your clothed breasts gently.

you giggle, "jungkook-"

"there she is," he pulls away to see your small smile and your pinkish cheeks. "there's my girl."

jungkook practically praised you, loving every inch of you with his eyes and hands. he was so gentle, but rough enough for his touch to linger on your skin.

taglist: @dewnights

© hersiisi, 2024