#I never say no to people trying to make meaningful names like

[bonefall]

In the case of cats who have verbs as part of their names, does the tense ever change when they rank up?

For Example (and this is my first translation job, forgive me if I get it wrong): Flutterpaw’s clanmew name is Afafpwyr. When they get their warrior name, they’re named Flutterstorm for coming into their own as a graceful fighter. Would they still be Afaffharrl (Storm Will-Flutter) or could the leader decide Afafafharrl (Storm Is-Fluttering) is more fitting and name them that instead?

Yep! That's something that can absolutely happen!

It's definitely something that some particular leaders would be fond of, changing the tense of prefixes along with awarding suffixes. I'd even chance that some leaders will go as far as to change the prefix itself; like turning Caterpillarpaw into Butterflyclaw.

Leaders have full and total authority over names, even if they decide to be cruel or unfair with that privilege. What holds them back the most is common decency, OR the threat of making their Clanmates so angry they revolt. It's totally up to the characterization of that leader.

[acupoftaewithsomesuga]

"𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏" • 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈

summary• wooyoung and you have been in arranged marriage for almost 3 years. You are tired of the constant lack of physical affection and you start to slowly lose yourself. Who knew that this one misunderstanding would shift your relationship with Wooyoung. 

warnings• ANGST, enemies to lovers, alluding to suicide, signs of depression, arguing, mentioning of harming others, mention of mental disorders, manipulation, mental breakdowns, SMUT, pet names (baby, dear, love, sweetheart, husband, wife), teasing, penetration, unprotected sex, clit play, squirting, rough sex, passionate sex, aftercare.

videos/audios to view before reading

w/c• 13.2k

a/n• this one took me forever to do but it is finally here! I want to thank @itsnotmydejavu and @rems-writing for giving me the strength to continue writing this one. I was genuinely going to scrap the whole thing but here it is to share with everyone! Next up Seonghwa to finish the OT8 saga!

taglist• @rems-writing @st4rhwa @sugarnspice630 @joongiesmoon @no1likevie @woohwababes @hongjoongswife1 @blackb3ll @staytiny23 @ccalyse 

network• @othersideoutlawsnetwork

•masterlist•

After working on some paperwork for the business you decided to go see Wooyoung in his office. Wooyoung was a very established businessman known for working mainly in stocks. But what people didn’t know was that he was also smuggling drugs into the country. You were a businesswoman who worked with your father's established wood company. You have known Wooyoung from a young age but he was always standoffish. You were closer to his brother Hongjoong and connected more with him growing up. So you were really surprised when your parents and their parents decided that Wooyoung and you would be getting married. He didn’t have much of a reaction, he just nodded and bowed. You objected with no hesitation and got into a heated argument with your parents. But they weren’t letting up on their decision and neither were Wooyoung’s parents. 

Wooyoung didn’t react to anything that was happening on the day of the wedding. He had a straight face throughout the whole thing and didn’t say a word to you except “I do.” On your honeymoon, you cried yourself to sleep because he didn’t touch you or even try to talk to you about anything meaningful. You felt so helpless at this point. That was 2 years ago and now you and Wooyoung are coming up to your third year of being married. Your relationship has grown but not as much as you would like. You both talk but it’s never how you want it to be. He talks about business and asks you how you are doing but that is about it. Conversations are kept to a minimum and you were at your limit with this. You figured you would try to win him over just so you weren’t losing your mind. 

You knock on Wooyoung’s door and you can just hear the annoyance in his voice. “What is it?” He said irritated. You opened the door and saw him at his desk looking at the stack of paperwork on his table. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” you smiled but his expression didn’t waver one bit. “I don’t need anything from you. I need to focus on this deal. Don’t you have something to do? Like manage your father's business?” he said in a flat tone, still looking at the papers. “I have finished everything I needed to do. I just wanted to see how my husband is doing,” you say causing him to raise an eyebrow, his expression unyielding. “You're my wife, not my assistant. I don't require checking in on. I'm fine.” There is silence in the room before he speaks again. “Don't you have a hobby or something to occupy your time?” You stare at him, your smile fading at his words. “Yes, but as your wife I should make sure you are doing fine. And I do have a hobby, it's currently drying at the moment,” You explained referring to your painting. 

Silence fills the room again before he speaks. “Painting, huh? I didn't know you were interested in that. It's a hobby, not a career. You don't need to waste your time on it.” You could feel the blood rushing through your veins as he belittles your passion. “You asked if I had a hobby and I told you my hobby. You want me to leave you alone and waste time on my hobby. But when I tell you my hobby you tell me it’s a waste of time and I should stop doing it. You don’t make sense at all sometimes. If you hate me then just say that.” Your voice echoed through the room causing Wooyoung to look up from his paper, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Oh, spare me the drama. I don't hate you, I'm just trying to focus on my work. And I didn't say your hobby was a waste of time, I said it's not a career. There's a difference.” You could feel yourself boiling at his response. “Whatever Wooyoung. I’ll just go back to being your uncaring wife since that is what you want me to be. Ever since our parents arranged this marriage you haven’t even looked at me with loving eyes.” 

His expression darkens, his voice cold “That's enough. You know as well as I do that our marriage was a business arrangement, not a love match. Don't pretend to be hurt or offended. You're getting everything you wanted out of this deal, just like I am.” You roll your eyes and close the door to his office. He returns to his work, but his focus is now scattered. He can't shake off the feeling that he's lost control of the situation and that nagging sense of guilt is starting to creep up on him. 

You place your hands over your eyes, trying not to cry as you walk back to the painting studio. “I just want to be touched lovingly. I don’t care about the money. I fucking hate my parents,” you say to yourself as you enter the studio and close the door behind you. You sit in the studio and cry for up to an hour. Your heart was shattered and you felt like no one cared about my feelings. The idea of not having a husband who loves you made you hold yourself tight and sob. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to love you fully along with your future children. 

He enters the painting studio, his footsteps quiet on the floor. He sees you sitting there, tears streaming down your face, and for a moment, his mask falters. He looks almost human. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, and approaches you slowly. Wooyoung stands before you, his gaze fixed on your tear-stained face. He tries to reach out to you, his hand hovering above her shoulder, but hesitates.“You're…” For a moment, he looks like he's about to say something, but the words die on his lips. You just sat there folding your face, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. “Just leave me alone,” you cry out crunching your body closer to yourself. His eyes narrow, a flash of annoyance crossing his face, but he checks himself. He takes a deep breath, his expression smoothing out into its usual mask of calm control. He turns to leave but pauses at the door, his voice low and detached. “We have a meeting with the investors tomorrow.”

You whence at his words, holding yourself close. His gaze lingers on her for a moment, his eyes flicking over your soaked shirt before he turns away, his strides long and purposeful as he exits the room, leaving you alone with your tears. You get up, close the door to the studio, and take out your paint brushing. You start to paint on a new canvas with your emotions, painting a story of your heartbreak. He stands outside the studio door, his ear pressed against the wood, listening to the sounds of brushstrokes and muffled sobs. His eyes close, his jaw tightening as he absorbs the emotions that seep through the door. For a moment, he remains still, the only sound of his quiet breathing.

You continue covering your canvas with red and black. Painting your emotions onto this canvas. Red with black smudges representing your heart turning cold and helpless. He opens the door, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the canvas and the turmoil that surrounds him. His gaze fixes on the vibrant red and black hues, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes seem to hold a quiet intensity as if he's trying to decipher the code of her emotions.

You painted a base for a heart being held by a hand, crushing it with force causing it to bleed black. The black paint dripped off of the canvas and onto the wooden easel. Your hands were messy from the aggressive painting, your hands shaking. You take a deep breath and try to calm myself down, letting your remaining tears drip off your face.

For a moment, he's frozen, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. He takes a step closer, his shoes silent on the floor, his eyes never leaving the canvas. His voice is low and even, yet laced with an undercurrent of intensity, "Tell me, what is this?" He gestures to the painting, his hand hovering above the crushed heart. 

“It’s art you’re supposed to interpret it yourself,” you say in a flat tone, your tears stilling. You start to grip your paintbrush forcefully, your body filled with rage. His eyes flicker to the side of your face, "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Art is not just about interpretation, it's about understanding the soul of the creator. And I want to understand yours." His words were supposed to be endearing but in the moment it just pissed you off. “My heart is extremely fragile. Love represents red and hopelessness represents black,” you expressed weakening your grasp on your paintbrush to calm yourself down. His gaze lingers on the black paint. He takes another step closer, his proximity making the air feel thick and heavy, "And what do you hope for, when love is crushed and hopelessness reigns?" He asks causing your eyes to swell up again. “I hope to die, that’s what I hope. I’d rather not be here anymore than my heart be crushed by hopelessness,” you utter, the grasp on your paintbrush tightening again. 

His expression remains unreadable, but his voice takes on a hint of softness, a gentle probing, "And what is it about this world that makes you want to escape it so desperately?" He pauses, looking at you with an emotionless gaze. “My lack of love and touch. The lack of loving conversations. Not having someone hold me and adore me. That’s why I want to escape.” He pauses before speaking, "You crave human connection, but are surrounded by emptiness. It's a feeling I'm familiar with," he says, his voice low and filled with regret. “Then why do you force me to go through it alone?” you snap turning around and looking up at him. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. Red and black paint was smugged on your cheek from you wiping away your tears. His eyes widen fractionally at the accusation, but he doesn't back down, "I'm not forcing you to go through anything alone, you're choosing to be here, to surround yourself with the very things that hurt you," he argues back, his stance dominating the space between you. 

“You don’t understand. No matter how much I surround myself with people I still lack physical touch and love.” He looks down at you, his presence looming over you. You see his jaw clench before he speaks, "Perhaps that's because you're looking for the wrong kind of touch, the wrong kind of love. You're so focused on what you're missing, you've forgotten how to appreciate what's right in front of you,” he says his expression getting more irritated. 

“Again you don’t understand and you don’t listen. The point is I need you to love me. I am losing my mind. I sleep in bed with you every night with our backs turned to eachother. When I wake up you are gone. I don’t get morning hugs or even night kisses. It would be one thing if you didn’t want to be affectionate with me but I’d at least want you to talk to me like I’m your wife.” More tears escape your eyes, the paint making visible streams down your face. His expression remains unreadable, but his voice takes on a slightly softer tone, though it's still laced with a hint of detachment, "I do talk to you, y/n. I provide for you, protect you, and give you everything you need. What more do you want from me?" You look at him for a second and try to search for the words to say. “I just told you what I wanted Wooyoung. For you to hold me and be intimate with me.” 

He takes another step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he speaks in a low, measured tone, "Intimacy is a weakness, y/n. It's a vulnerability that can be exploited. I've worked too hard to build my empire to let emotions get in the way.” Your face drops and you look at the ground. You sigh to yourself in defeat. He tilts his head slightly, studying you for a moment before continuing, his voice softer, "Why are you so hung up on this, y/n? I've given you everything you could ever need. Why does it matter if we-,” You instantly cut him off with your words and express your feelings. “I want a traditional husband. I want to be loved by my husband. Don’t you want the same from your wife?” Your eyes swelled with tears again as you looked up at him. You looked so hopeless as you looked at him, your eyes emanating a mixture of fear. 

His expression falters for a brief moment, a flash of something deeper beneath the surface, before he masks it with his usual arrogance, "Love is a fleeting thing, y/n. It's a myth perpetuated by the weak-minded. I don't want love from you.” Your heart drops and his words stab into you like a knife. Your rage gets the best of you and you start to talk out of hatred. “And see that’s your problem now. You are going to die alone and miserable. But me I won’t dragged into your coldness. I will find someone that truly loves me.” You get up from your stool, the scrap running across the ground and echoing through the room. You glare at him before walking out of the studio. 

He watches you go, a flicker of something like regret crossing his face before he shakes his head and turns to the window, his expression once again cold and unreadable. He mutters to himself, "Love is a fool's game." Your emotions were on a high and you felt like you weren't being heard properly. How could someone like Wooyoung be so cold and reserved for you but when he is around other people he smiles? What about you did he resent you so much? 

You get to the room and get clothes out for bed. You walk into the bathroom and turn on the bathtub. You light some candles and turn off the lights, letting all the candles engulf the room. 

He enters the bedroom and hears the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom. The soft glow of the candles drew him in. For a moment, he stands in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the peaceful scene before him. 

Without knowing he was standing in the doorway you undo your robe and let it drop to the ground, your naked body being exposed to the air. You climb into the tub letting the hot water radiate against your skin. You breathe out as you feel your body being covered with hot water. For a moment, he's frozen, his usual composure slipping. His chest rises and falls with a slow, deliberate breath, and his fingers tighten into fists at his sides. You start to wash your body gently, humming to yourself. You throw your leg in the air and wash it thoroughly. 

His eyes follow the movement of your leg, his gaze lingering on the curve of your thigh and the gentle motion of your hands as you wash. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he struggles to maintain his stoic demeanor.

After you clean yourself you decide to destress even more. You move your hand down to your core, rubbing your fingers against your folds. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you, his gaze riveted on the intimate act. His breath hitches, a low, almost imperceptible sound escaping his lips. He takes a step forward, his body seemingly drawn to the scene unfolding before him despite his better judgment.

You rub your fingers against your clit and start to moan softly, the waters around your arm splashing. He can't tear his eyes away, transfixed by the sight of your fingers dancing over your most sensitive flesh. The soft moans that spill from your lips send a jolt of something primal through him, his body responding with a surge of heat that he can't suppress.

“Hmm please, I’ve been a good girl,” you moan, continuing to rub circles against your clit. His control snaps as he hears your talk. With a few quick steps, he's at the edge of the bathtub, his icy façade shattering as he takes in the sight of you pleasuring yourself. His hand shoots out, gripping your wrist and gently guiding your hand away from your core.

Your eyes widen as you see Wooyoung looking at you his hand tight around your wrist. You were in complete shock as you made eye contact with him. His gaze holds yours, the intensity of his stare rendering you breathless. For a moment, the only sound is the soft lapping of the water against the tub. His voice was low as he spoke. "You shouldn't be doing that."

You scoff, “I can’t please myself in peace now? You won’t do it so I have to force myself to.” His eyes narrow, a hint of anger flashing beneath the surface. His grip on your wrist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. "You think I won't do it?" His voice is low and menacing. “Not in the way that I’d want you to, no.” You express holding the same intensity that he was towards you. He takes a deep breath as his grip on your wrist tightens further. His other hand reaches up, cupping your chin and tilting your head back. "What way is that?"

“With love and passion. You only see me now for lust.” You hiss before pushing his hand away forcefully. His eyes flash with anger, his jaw clenched in a tight line. For a moment, it seems like he's about to lash out, but then his expression smooths, his mask of control slipping back into place. "Love and passion are weaknesses, sweetheart. I prefer to keep things transactional."

You roll your eyes at his childish response. “And I’d like to keep things traditional,” you scoff trying to pull your hand away from his grasp. His grip on your wrist doesn't relinquish, his fingers digging deeper into your skin as he pulls you back to him. "You want traditional?" He sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "You want romance and fairy tales? I'm a businessman, not a prince charming.” Seeing him like this broke your heart. “You made that one obvious,” you said looking into his eyes in pain. For a fleeting moment, something in his eyes flickers, a glimmer of uncertainty or perhaps even empathy, but it's quickly snuffed out by his usual cold calculation. "You're not hurt, you're just disappointed,” he said in reaction to your hurt comment. “Just leave so I can fuck myself in peace.” His grip on your wrist tightens for a moment before he releases you with a dismissive shrug. "I'll leave you to your devices." He says, his voice clipped and cold, before turning on his heel and striding away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

The sound of the door opening and closing breaks the silence, signaling Wooyoungs's departure. The room feels empty and still, the only sound being your ragged breathing. As the minutes tick by, the tension and anger seem to seep out of your body, leaving behind a hollow, exhausted feeling. You breathe and exhale, trying to calm yourself down. You sit in silence for a minute to try to keep yourself together. You lay back in the tub and try to forget everything that just happened between you and Wooyoung. You felt like your life was coming apart and you didn’t know how to cope with it. You sat into the stillness of the room remembering that this will soon pass and you will find someone to love you since Wooyoung made it apparent that he wanted to keep your relationship transactional. 

You start to hum to yourself as a distraction. The humming is a weak attempt to drown out the thoughts swirling in your mind, but it's a start. As you lay back in the bathtub, the warm water envelops you, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. “I should get out in a minute.” you sigh to yourself. The water continues to swirl around you as you lay motionless, the remnants of anger and hurt slowly fading. The exhaustion, however, stays, weighing heavy on your limbs. The minutes tick by, each one bringing you closer to the decision of getting out of the tub.

You get out of the tub and start to dry your body off. As you dry off, the cool air of the bathroom hits your skin. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and for a moment, you're taken aback by the reflection staring back. Your eyes look tired, your skin paler than usual, and your expression drawn. “I need to get it together. I have to find someone to love me. I can’t dwindle away like this.” you said before pulling the robe over your body and walking to the bedroom to change into your night clothes. 

You slip into a comfortable pair of pajamas, the soft fabric a gentle solace against your fragile emotions. As you make your way to the bed, your gaze falls upon the scattering of papers and notes on your side table, reminders of the meeting with the investors, and the looming deadline for the investment deal.

“Why was I forced to live like this.” you sigh spreading your body on top of the bed, letting the sheets press against your warm skin. Your phone, abandoned on the bedside table, suddenly buzzes with an incoming message. The screen illuminates, casting an eerie glow on your face. The words "Ever, we need to talk. -H" flash before your eyes, piercing through the haze of your despair. You hesitantly reach for the phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as if unsure of what secrets it might hold. The message from Hongjoong seems to weigh heavier with each passing moment, his words echoing in your mind like an unspoken challenge. The phone rings twice before Hongjoong's resonant voice answers, his tone is husky from what sounds like a late night or lingering exhaustion. "y/n, I've been trying to reach you all day. We need to discuss the Kang account. There are complications."

“What happened,” you ask bluntly, your voice uninterested in the situation. Hongjoong's pause is palpable, the silence between you a heavy, unspoken understanding. "The Kangs are getting cold feet. They're threatening to pull out of the deal if we don't meet their revised demands. I need you to charm them, y/n.” You exhale and roll your eyes, irritation lingering in your voice, “How would I do that?” Hongjoong's voice drops lower, the weight of his words seemingly pulling at your very consciousness. "You've always had a way with people, y/n. You know what they want before they even realize it themselves. Use that to your advantage. And mine." You could hear the desperation in his voice and you started to feel empathetic towards your brother-in-law. 

“Okay, I will see what I can do,” you said in a flat tone, your finger hovering over the end call button. Hongjoong's tone lightens imperceptibly, a low, smooth chuckle rumbling through the phone. "I knew I could count on you, y/n. You always were the one with the silver tongue. Just remember, I'm counting on you to get this deal back on track.” “Yup I got it,” you said before hanging up and squeezing the phone out of irritation. The line goes dead, and for a moment, you're left lying there, the phone still clutched in your hand, the weight of Hongjoong's expectations settling in like a shroud. You can almost feel his eyes on you, even from afar, watching, waiting.

You place your phone back down on the nightstand and engulf yourself in the sheets. As you lay there, trying to escape the suffocating feeling of Hongjoong's demands, your mind begins to wander back to the conversation, replaying his words like a mantra. "Use that to your advantage. And mine." 

“What a fucking pig, why doesn't he get his brother to do it. Why am I always trying to please others? Leave it to me to take care of two men who don't even provide for me emotionally. What a fucking joke.” you scoff to yourself before exhaling deeply. “Everything is going to be fine. All I have to do is get this deal done and we can relax for a moment. Tomorrow is another day, meaning another day to start over again.” You reassure yourself about this whole situation and sit for a minute to calm your lingering frustrations from the day. You let your eyes fall shut, drifting off to bed. 

Your dreams that night are plagued with images of Hongjoong, his piercing gaze and unyielding presence haunting your sleep. You see Wooyoung in your dreams repeating everything he said to you during your arguments. You toss in bed all night your head riddled with the two brothers. 

You wake up the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose, if not a slightly bitter taste in your mouth. You'll do what he asks, but not out of loyalty, only for yourself and your cut of the deal. You get up and look at the way you look in the vanity. You force a smile on your face just to make sure you remember how to. “He doesn't love you y/n. Just keep being you. Don’t change for him and don't shed any more tears.” You make this promise to yourself realizing that Wooyoung will never break his habits and he will forever be distant with you. 

You get dressed and put on your designer black dress. You do your makeup and put on jewelry. You put on your heels and walk to the living room. At this time you assert yourself with confidence. This was an important deal and you had to make sure that you were on top of performing today. As you stride into the living room, you're met with the sight of Wooyoung, already seated on the couch, sipping on a cup of black coffee. He's dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his eyes fixed on you as you enter.

You invert your gaze from Wooyoung to the teapot lying on the coffee table. You grab a glass and pour yourself some tea. You put a cube of sugar in it and started to drink. Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly as you avoid direct eye contact, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your neck. His lips compress into a thin line, his expression unreadable. "So, are you prepared to discuss the terms of our agreement with the Kangs?" You put the cup down and cross your legs before speaking, “I’m always ready.” Your voice is disinterested in having a conversation with him. Wooyoung's gaze flicks to your crossed legs, a fleeting interest sparking in his eyes before he returns to a neutral expression. He sets his cup down, his movements deliberate and controlled. "Very well. I've reviewed the proposal, and I'm willing to make some concessions.” You take another sip of your tea before making a dry response. “Hmm, that’s good. Mr. Kang would like that.”

Wooyoung's eyes flash with a hint of annoyance, but he quickly masks it with a calculating calmness. "Yes, I'm sure he would. However, I think we can both agree that Mr. Kang's interests are not the primary concern here." “Very true but he is the one taking the deal at the end of the day,” you snap back wanting him to simply shut up. Wooyoung's lips curl into a subtle, condescending smile. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Mr. Kang may think he's calling the shots, but I'm the one holding the reins. And I always get what I want, one way or another." I look at Wooyoung in response to his childish comments. 

“Do you think Hongjoong would be pleased with how you’re talking? You know the deal Wooyoung. We sell this deal to Mr. Kang and we get our cut,” you say to get Wooyoung to know his place and to remind him that his older brother is the one calling the shots. Wooyoung's smile widens, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Hongjoong? Ha! He's too busy playing nice with the investors to care about the details. And as for the deal, I'm not worried about getting our cut.” You exhale softly before drinking my tea. You didn’t want to argue with Wooyoung anymore because you knew if he was doing this on his own he would find a way to fuck up the whole deal. 

“When they get here remember that we are a loving married couple. We don’t want the Kangs suspecting us,” you say causing Wooyoung's gaze to drift to you, his expression softening ever so slightly as he raises an eyebrow. "Oh, don't worry, darling," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll make sure to put on a show for the Kangs.”

You roll your eyes and pour yourself some more tea. Wooyoung chuckles, a low, throaty sound, as he watches you roll your eyes. He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers together in a gesture of mock seriousness. "After all, we're a loving married couple, living a life of perfect domestic bliss.” “So that means don’t be a dickhead.” you say sarcastically before getting up and looking out of the window. Wooyoung laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I'll try to contain myself, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wouldn't want to spoil the illusion of our perfect marriage." You look out the window for a while just thinking about the act that you have to put up before you decide to respond to him. You move from the window and walk behind Wooyoung, hovering over him as you speak. “Well, we should get into character.” Wooyoung was more into the contract than he was into you, a typical sight you were used to.

You changed your personality from Wooyoungs arranged wife to his loving and caring soulmate. “Good morning darling,” you cooed before rubbing your hands against his chest. You could feel his body tense up from the sudden feeling of you caressing his chest softly. You slowly pull away from his and walk in front of him. “So nice to see you awake.” you express before grabbing his chin with my fingers and pulling him closer to your lips. You press a passionate kiss on his lips before pulling away and looking down at him. Wooyoung's eyes flicker with surprise at the sudden change in your demeanor, but he quickly recovers, a charming smile spreading across his face. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a deeper kiss, his lips expertly mimicking passion and affection.

“That’s good enough,” you say the smile on your face fading into a neutral expression. You pull back and move back to your spot on the couch, taking a sip of your tea to get the taste of him out of your mouth. Wooyoung's arms fall from your waist, his expression carefully neutral as you return to your seat. He watches you for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the paper in his hand, adjusting his tie with an air of cool indifference. "Took you long enough," he snickered. “We are just pretending.” you expressed reminding Wooyoung that it was all an act. Wooyoung's gaze meets yours, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Of course, darling," he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I forgot we're just pretending to be in love. How convenient." He pauses, his expression turned icy once more. You could tell Wooyoung’s own morals were starting to slip. Just yesterday he was preaching to you how love was pointless but now he suddenly forgets that the love that you give to him is all pretend. You start to scoff to yourself realizing that Wooyoung isn’t as strong as he thinks he is. 

You take a sip of your tea and your eyes wander his body, looking at Wooyoung up and down. You notice the visible tent in his pants and you couldn’t help but piss him off. “You need to control that before the Kangs get here.” His eyes narrow, his face flushing with a subtle hint of embarrassment. He quickly regains his composure, his mask of confidence slipping back into place. "It's none of your concern," he says, his voice low and even. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes knowing that he was flustered by simple one kiss. Wooyoung's eyes flash with annoyance, his jaw clenched in irritation. "What's so funny?" he asks, his tone dripping with disdain. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to subtly adjust himself without drawing attention to the obvious signs of his arousal.

“The only thing funny in this situation is how hard you are from me kissing you. We are described as an overly affectionate couple, so you can’t just get hard like you aren’t used to us kissing.” His eyes flashed with anger and embarrassment at your comment. "Shut up," he says, his voice low and menacing. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his arousal remains evident. "You think you're clever, don't you?" You pause and smile to yourself as you feel Wooyoung’s facade fading at your command. You quickly changed your demeanor from cold to warm. You turned and looked at Wooyoung, a precious smile painted on your face, 

“I do my love.” Wooyoung's expression softens, his eyes warming up as he gazes at you. He clears his throat, attempting to maintain a semblance of dignity despite his still-obvious arousal. "Ah, dear," he says, his voice slightly wavering, "you're not helping the situation." You look at him as if he is a lost puppy before speaking. “Well my love, you better fix it soon before they get here. Imagine their first impression of Mr. Kang is his boner poking out of his trousers.” You chuckle softly seeing a peak of his softer side come out because of his embarrassment.

Wooyoung's face turns bright red as he glances down at his crotch, his embarrassment and frustration palpable. He hastily adjusts himself, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal. "Dammit, y/n," he mutters under his breath, "you're not making this any easier for me."

“I’m not doing anything, your mind is just filled with dirty thoughts and you need to get rid of them.” Your response struck a nerve with him causing him to become defensive. "My mind is not filled with dirty thoughts," he protests, though his voice lacks conviction. He straightens his tie, his motions stiff and awkward. “I'm a respected businessman, not some hormone-driven teenager.” 

“Wooyoung I just kissed you, you are hard as a rock right now. Last night you watched me play with myself in the bathtub. You aren’t a saint.” His face reddening further as he struggles to maintain his composure. "That's not the point," he snaps back, trying to ignore the fact that you were right. You could see him struggling in the moment so you decided to make him struggle even more. “Oh my beloved husband, then what is the point?” He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I-I don't know what you're trying to do, but it won't work," He stutters before looking back at the contract. 

“My love I’m not doing anything I’m just practicing for when they come,” you say softly before smirking at him with amusement. You can see the anger emanating from Wooyoung as he looks you in the eyes. "So you think you can just play me like a fool?" He sets down the paperwork on the coffee table, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you can use your charms to manipulate me, to get what you want?" You could sense that Wooyoung’s anger was getting the best of him. He didn’t like being controlled so this whole situation fueled his rage even more. The idea of you manipulating him and you being in control made him feel inferior to you. This caused his reactions to be radioactive and his emotions to be erratic and almost seem bipolar. 

“I’m practicing on you so I can get what we want from the Kangs. All we need is for them to take the deal that’s it. Then we can go back to being ourselves.” You said, your expression is a bit more serious. You were trying to reassure Wooyoung of why you were doing the things that you were doing to him. But in reality, you wanted to see a glimpse of the softer side you never got to experience. Wooyoung's expression subsides, his anger giving way to a calculating curiosity. "I see," he pauses before speaking again. "You're using me as a test subject, to refine your skills before the real negotiation. And what makes you think this will work?" A sly smirk danced across your lips. “It always works. Why do you think Hongjoong speaks so highly of me?” you allude before taking a sip of your tea. His gaze lingers on the smirk, "Hongjoong," he repeats, his tone neutral, but laced with a hint of warning. "You think you're that good, huh?” You rolled your eyes knowing that Wooyoung didn’t know half. He didn’t know that before you were both in an arranged marriage you had eyes on Hongjoong. You had Hongjoong around your finger until both of your parents decided to arrange the both of you together. 

“Trust me darling I know I am.” You scoff followed by a chuckle. Wooyoung’s expression remains impassive, but his eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Save it for the Kangs, sweetheart," he says, his voice dry. "I'm not impressed." He glances at his watch, his gaze lingering on the time. “That’s because you know my secret.” Wooyoung's eyes narrow, his interest piqued despite himself. "And what secret would that be?" he asks, his voice low and even, but with a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface. 

You get up once again and hover yourself over him again. “That I can change my character swiftly to get whatever I want,” you whisper in his ear. “Just like how you got hard from me acting as your loving wife that fucks you right,” you said trailing my hands down his chest. Wooyoung's eyes flash with anger, but his body betrays him, his chest rising and falling with a sudden intake of breath. He tries to maintain his composure. "You think your little manipulative games are going to work on me?"

“Absolutely my love” you whisper, followed by kissing him on his neck. Wooyoung's eyes drift closed, his jaw clenched as he struggles to resist the sensations coursing through his body. His hands, however, involuntarily flex, as if craving to grasp and hold onto you. “Darling if this deal is successful with the Kangs I’ll let you take me,” you whispered your lips touching his ear. His breathing grows heavier, his control wavering as his gaze snaps back to yours. For a moment, his eyes burn with a fierce intensity, and his voice drops to a low, husky tone. "You're pushing it, sweetheart." You ignore his threat and continue to tease him further. “Just imagine how desperate I sound as you ram into me.” You then proceed to moan in his ear, “Mmmm Wooyoung,” you playfully moaned before giggling. 

Wooyoung’s face darkens, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desire. His hands shoot out and grasp your arms. He pulls you infront of him and tails his hands down to your hips as he pulls you onto his lap. "You want to play dirty, huh?" His voice is low and menacing, his breathing hot against your ear. You chuckle as he sits you on his lap. “Absolutely.”

"Then let's be nasty," he whispers, trailing his fingers along your jaw to turn your face towards his. He then leaned in to claim your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands roam freely over your body as he whispers wicked things in your ear. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." You smirk against the kiss mischievously “Just how you like it, my love.” 

"You're a fucking danger," he mutters, his lips quirking into a smirk as he pulls back to look at you. "But I fucking love it." You chuckle getting off his lap and moving your way back to your side of the couch. His gaze follows your every move as you saunter back to your seat. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate slowness. "Tease." You take another sip of your tea before saying, “Trust me I know how to do that the best baby,” His gaze never leaves yours, his eyes flashing with a hint of warning as he raises an eyebrow. "Don't think you've gotten out of this that easily, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and silky, a promise of retribution lurking beneath the surface. You chuckle in amusement. He was so easy to turn on even when we were just “pretending”.

Wooyoung seems to gleam with a knowing intensity as if he's aware of the game you're playing and is more than willing to play along. He leans back on the couch, steepling his fingers together as he regards you with an air of quiet confidence.

The doorbell rings and you both get up and walk to the door. “Remember we are a loving husband and wife.” Wooyoung shoots you a dry look, but a hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture of affection. He opens the door, his smile widening into a charming, effortless grin as he greets whoever is on the other side.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kang please come in.” you give a pleasant smile before moving to the side. Wooyoung's grip on your hand tightens slightly as he steps aside, allowing the Kangs to enter. He nods cordially, his smile never faltering, as he ushers them into the living room. "Please, make yourselves at home. Can I offer you something to drink?" The Kangs say they would simply want water and this signals Wooyoung to go to the kitchen. “It’s such a nice day outside. Amazing weather for golf. Me and my husband were just discussing that not long before you both came in.” you smiled flashing your charm. Wooyoung returns with a tray holding four glasses of water, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he hands them out with a courteous smile. "Ah, yes, the weather is perfect for golf, isn't it? We were thinking of squeezing in a round later this week.” 

You smile at Wooyoung, grab the glasses from the tray and place them down on the coffee table. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you for a moment, appreciating the grace with which you handle the glasses. He sets the tray down on the nearby sideboard, his eyes twinkling as he turns back to the conversation. "You both play golf?" Mr. Kang nods and goes on a tangent about how he goes frequently. He talks about how he loves going early in the morning and you and Wooyoung listen intensively, smiling and nodding. Mrs. Kang makes a joke about his obsession causing everyone to laugh. “Trust me my husband is the same way.” You chuckle. 

Wooyoung's laughter is a low, smooth sound, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he joins in the amusement. He inclines his head towards you, his gaze warm with shared understanding, before turning back to the Kangs. “I heard that you both will be going on vacation soon isn’t that exciting? A month's vacation is a treat.” You smile looking at them. Mr. Kang nods and talks about the planned trip to the Virgin Islands and how he wants to treat his wife to something special. “Oooh a romantic I see.” you giggle flashing Mrs. Kang a smile. Mr. Kang smiles back and kisses his wife on the cheek. 

“I just know you both will have an amazing time. Should we go over the business deal?” You smile reaching out of your briefcase to pull out a contract. Wooyoung's attention snaps back to you, his eyes locking onto the contract in your hand. His expression transforms the geniality of moments before giving way to a sharp, calculating intensity. He nods curtly, his voice taking on a clipped tone. "Yes, let's get down to business.” You go over the paperwork with the Kangs for a good 2 hours. There was a lot of negotiation involved but it seemed like they were pleased with the offer. “Okay then it’s settled, just sign here for me.” Mr. and Mrs. Kang signed the contract and everyone got up and shook each other's hand. Everyone continued to make small talk and laugh just before they left. You and Wooyoung waved as they left and Wooyoung shut the door.  As the door closes behind the Kangs, Wooyoung's demeanor shifts once again, his expression becoming more relaxed, though still guarded. He turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he surveys you. "Well done," he says, his tone firm. "You handled that meeting like a pro.” 

“Of course I did. I told you I was good at charming people. We needed the deal so I had to do what was best. I’m just happy that the Kangs took the bait.” I said exhaling my body relaxing. 

Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes seem to be searching for something beneath the surface. Then, he nods, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, charming people is indeed one of your talents." You chuckle at his comment and pick up the cups off the table. “Yeah, I had you pretty worked up earlier.” Wooyoung's expression remains impassive, but a hint of dry humor creeps into his voice. "Worked up? I was merely intrigued by your audacity." He glances at the cups in your hand, his attention snapping back to the task at hand. “Right.” you chuckle gathering up the glasses and taking them to the kitchen. Wooyoung follows you to the kitchen, his footsteps quiet on the floor. He leans against the counter, watching you with an air of casual interest as you put the cups in the dishwasher. "So, what do you think the Kangs will do next?" 

“Well first go on their vacation then continue with their regular business,” you say closing the dishwasher. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly, his gaze turning introspective. "I have a meeting with a potential investor later today. And then, I have some personal matters to attend to." You look down at your watch before saying, “Got it, well I will be here working on my work once you get busy. Is there anything you would like to do for the time being?” Wooyoung's gaze flicks to your watch, then back to your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Actually, I think I'll join you in the living room. I have some documents to review, and your company is tolerable." You roll your eyes at his sly comment. 

“Okay sounds good,” You say before getting out a charcuterie board and a glass of wine. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter beside you, his eyes fixed on the charcuterie board and wine. "You're trying to impress me, aren't you?" His tone is laced with dry humor, but a hint of curiosity creeps into his voice. “Absolutely not, I’m trying to enjoy myself after a job well done. I know you are a whisky guy, not a wine man.” you chuckle pouring yourself a glass.

Wooyoung's expression remains unreadable, but a faint glint of approval sparks in his eyes. "You're learning. Most people wouldn't dare assume my preferences, let alone correct themselves." “I’m your wife, even though we don’t spend that much time together I know what you like.” You say before grabbing the board and wine and making your way to the living room. Wooyoung follows you, his long strides eating up the distance as he hovers behind you. "I suppose that's true," he says, his voice low and measured. "Though I've often wondered if our arrangement is more convenient for you than I previously thought."

“Convenient how?” you chuckle placing the wine and board on the coffee table. Wooyoung's gaze narrows, his eyes piercing as he regards you. "Don't play coy, darling. Our marriage is a mutually beneficial arrangement, isn't it? I receive the respectability of being married to someone of your standing, and you gain access to my resources and influence." 

“This is true,” you say before walking down the long hallway to your shared bedroom to change into something comfortable. You strip away your dress leaving only your panties and bra on and wrap your body in my silk-green robe. You could feel Wooyoung’s eyes tracking your movements from the doorway. You turn to look at him, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression unreadable. “You didn’t have to follow me. You could have just stayed in the living room. Unless you need something.” you teased undoing the strap on your robe and flashing your body to him, your lace set looking at him. Wooyoung's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes locked onto the tantalizing glimpse of your body. A slight raise of his eyebrow is the only indication of his interest, but his voice remains smooth and controlled. "I think I do need something, darling. Your attention, perhaps?" 

“How could I give you my attention my darling husband?” you say sarcastically closing your robe and leaving the room. Wooyoung's eyes narrow, a faint spark of amusement dancing in their depths. He strides after you, his legs easily keeping pace with yours. "You know exactly how my dear wife. You're not as innocent as you're pretending to be." You chuckle, loving this game of him following me around like you're his prey. “How would you know? You never dabbled in peeking at my arousal. You have no idea if I’m innocent or not.” Wooyoung's smile grows, a calculated glint in his eye as he corners you in the hallway. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my love. I've been watching you, studying you. I know exactly when to make my move, and exactly how to get what I want."

“Mmm, I’m sorry my dear” you smirk wrapping your fingers around his tie and pulling him closer to you, your lips lining up with his ear. “I hate to break it to you but I won’t easily crumble under your touch. No matter how much I want you to fuck me you will have to chase me,” you say before letting go of his tie and walking back to the living room. Wooyoung's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and intrigue, his pupils dilating slightly as he processes your bold move. "Is that a challenge, my love?"

“In ways yes. It’s more of a challenge for you and not for me. I have self-control. You on the other hand do not. See how long you can last before you pounce on me.” you tease, sitting down on the couch, drinking my wine. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your lips as you smile. He takes a step closer, his movements deliberate and calculated, his voice low and husky. "I'll have you know, I've built my empire on self-control.” You put a piece of meat and cheese into your mouth, looking up at him. “Is that right?” you chuckle. He takes another step closer, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow. "Yes, that's right," he says, his voice dripping with confidence. 

You take a piece of meat and cheese and get up from the couch. You walk over to Wooyoung and guide it to his mouth. “We will see how much self-control you have my dear husband.” Wooyoung's eyes flash with surprise, his gaze fixed on the offering. For a moment, he seems to hesitate, his mouth opening slightly as if to accept the snack. Then, his expression darkens, and he reaches out to grasp your wrist, his grip like a vice. “What is it, my love? You can’t eat from my fingers?” you chuckle looking up at him. Wooyoung's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he glares down at you. His eyes flash with fury, and for a moment, it seems as if he might lose control. "I am not your plaything," he growls, his voice barely controlled.

“If you say so my love.” you smile removing your wrist from his grasp and eating the snack. “I just wanted to please you that’s all,” you say caressing his arm with your hand before you sit back on the couch. Wooyoung's gaze follows your every move, his eyes burning with intensity. For a moment, he seems to be collecting himself, his expression a mask of calmness. "You think you can manipulate me with such childish games?" You roll your eyes and look down. “Tell your dick that,” you say referring to the visible tent in his pants. You then take a sip of your wine. Wooyoung's face darkens, his eyes flashing with anger. He takes a step closer to you, his voice low and menacing. "You think you're clever, don't you?" he sneers, his eyes fixed on yours. "But you're just playing with fire, darling.” You scoff, “From the looks of it baby, you are the one playing with fire. You’re the one all worked up and hot.” You say eating a grape and laying back on the couch. 

Wooyoung's eyes narrow, his jaw clenched in frustration. He takes another step closer, his presence looming over you as he speaks. "You're pushing your luck, sweetheart. You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?" “Absolutely because you have self-control. remember?” you grab another grape and eat it. He reaches out, his hand grasping the armrest of the couch beside you, his fingers digging into the leather as he leans in closer. "Self-control is a myth when it comes to you, darling." You giggle at his words finally seeing that he has broken his cold facade. You place your hand on his cheek and caress it softly. “Are you losing control, my love?” Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, his breathing quickening as he succumbs to your touch. He presses his cheek into your hand, his skin warm against your palm. For a moment, his guard drops, and his mask of control slips, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability beneath. "Maybe." 

You look at him softly seeing his demeanor change. “Then come here, baby,” you breathe before pulling him closer by his tie and placing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's eyes snap open, his lips parting in surprise as you pull him in for a kiss. “You look so good today Wooyoung,” you said between the kiss.  For a moment, he's frozen, his body tense with anticipation. Then he yields, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. Wooyoung's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you off the couch and into his arms as he deepens the kiss. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you in place as he devours your lips. The air around you seems to be charged with electricity, your desire and passion coursing through every nerve in your body. You pull away for a moment and look at his face, seeing the need in his expression. “Don’t you have some paperwork to do my love?” You tease him watching the frustration sweep across his face. He exhales heavily, his chest heaving with restrained passion. "Paperwork?" he repeats, his voice low and rough, heavy with disappointment. "You think I care about paperwork right now?"

“That’s what I like to hear baby.” You then press my lips back onto his. Wooyoung's scowl disappears, replaced by pleasure as he claims your lips once more. He devours you, his tongue tangling with yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. His hands slide up your back, pulling you even closer, his body molding against yours. “Fuck...” you gasp against the kiss as you reach down to his suit jacket and start to unbutton it, causing his breath to hitch. His hands suddenly grip onto your wrist and squeeze tightly as if he was trying to hold back. He breaks the kiss, a low moan escaping his lips as he watches your fingers work on his buttons. "You're forcing my hand, love,"

You remove his jacket and breath in his ear, “To be honest darling, I couldn’t give a fuck.” you say before pressing your lips back together. Wooyoung's eyes roll back, his body shuddering against yours. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in with fierce possessiveness. His lips devour yours, his tongue stroking yours with a slow, deliberate intensity.

You start to unbutton his button-down as you kiss passionately. “Ever since I saw you shirtless at our honeymoon I have wanted you since. I can’t believe you didn’t fuck me that night. You're such a tease.” you said against his lips. He moans, his lips faltering for a moment as he pulls back, his eyes blazing with intensity. "You think I didn't want to?" 

“Why didn’t you? I was waiting. I touched myself that night because of you.” You pulled his button down completely off, running your hands down his chest to his stomach. Wooyoung's face darkens, his jaw clenched in restraint. His hands slide up your back, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. "I was trying to be a gentleman," he growls, his voice low. “It was our honeymoon, we were married at that point. I wanted you to ruin me,” you say before starting to unbuckle his pants. He hisses, his body tensing as he tries to maintain control. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to restrain myself that night," he breathed trying to keep it together. 

“Well, baby you can make up for it right now.” You say unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them. You then unravel my robe and expose my lace underwear set to him. Wooyoung's gaze devours your body, his eyes lingering on the lace underwear before snapping back to yours. You pull him in closer and whisper. “Where do you want me? In the living room? In the bedroom?” You pause and smirk against his ear. “In your office?” His chest heaves with a ragged breath as he struggles to maintain his composure. "My office," *he demands, his voice barely above a whisper.

You chuckle before getting up and grabbing his hand, guiding him to his office in just your lingerie. Wooyoung's eyes never leave yours as he follows you, his grip on your hand tightening. He slams the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the room. He spins you around, his hands grasping your waist as he pushes you against the desk. You moan wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wooyoung's lips crash down on yours, his kiss fierce and demanding. His hands roam your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before grasping your thighs and lifting you onto the desk. "I've wanted this for so long," he confesses between the kiss. “So have I,” you say before reaching behind your back and unhooking your bra, tossing it across the room. Wooyoung's eyes widen as your bra flies across the room, his gaze immediately snapping back to your now-exposed breasts. He takes a step closer, his breathing heavy, as he cups your boobs in his hands. His thumbs tease your nipples, sending a chill to your core.

“Fuck,” you breathe before reaching down and rubbing your hand along his still-clothe shaft. Wooyoung groans as he thrusts into your palm, his hips moving on their own accord. "You have no idea how many nights I've jerked off to thoughts of this," he confesses, his eyes burning into yours. “Then I plan to make it more than you ever imagined.” You pull down his pants slightly and rub him through his boxers. “So thick.” you breathe, pressing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's hips buck into your hand, a low moan escaping his lips as you rub him through his boxers. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Get rid of these," *he commands, nodding towards your panties.

You reached for your panties and slid them off, a trail of my juices connecting from your panties to your core. Wooyoung's eyes flicker down to the glistening wet trail leading from your discarded panties to your slick core causing his pupils to dilate. "Spread your legs," he orders, his voice low and commanding. You spread your legs and look him into his eyes. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on your exposed core for a moment, his breath hitching as he drinks at the sight of you. With a swift movement, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down, freeing his member. His dick slaps against your thigh and your eyes grow wide at his size. Wooyoung's lips curl into a smug smirk as he notices your reaction to the size of his dick. He grips his shaft, giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. "You're going to take all of me," he promises, his voice dripping with confidence. "Every inch."

You look at him and your demeanor turns from confident to sheepish. You take a deep breath and nod your head letting him know that you agree to take him. Wooyoung's smirk grows wider at your submissive nod, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He steps closer, his tip brushing against your soaked folds. "Good girl," he purrs, his voice low and approving. "Now, spread your legs wider for me." You do as you are told and spread your legs, looking at him as you do so. Wooyoung's eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of your spread thighs, your pussy glistening with arousal. He positions the head of his cock at your entrance.. "Look at me," he commands, his voice rough with desire. You look at him shyly and bite your lip in anticipation. Wooyoung's nostrils flare as he notices your nervous gesture. With one slow, careful thrust, he begins to push himself inside you, his hard length stretching you wide. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice filled with approval. You couldn’t help but roll my eyes back, your walls clenching around him, your walls near your cervix finally being touched.

Wooyoung's gaze locks onto your face, his eyes intense as he watches you react to him thrusting inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before pulling almost out, only the head of his cock remaining inside you. You feel your walls clench around nothing making your heart race in desperation. Wooyoung's lips quirk at the corners as he sees your desperate need. Taking pity on you, he pushes back inside, filling you once more. This time, he sets a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you with deep, powerful strokes. "Breathe, baby," he insists as he watches you hold your breath. “Holy fuck,” you moan trying to keep your composure. "Keep moaning for me," he demands watching you come undone in front of him.

“Wooyoung, augh-” you moan out gibberish your mind completely spiraling with each thrust. You lay your back flat on the desk not being able to hold yourself up anymore. Your body feels weak as you focus all of your energy on clenching around him. Wooyoung's eyes flash with excitement as he sees you surrender to his touch. He leans forward, "Give in, baby. Give into me," he whispers, his words pulling you over the edge. “I- aaaugh,” you moan in desperation gripping his arm and clawing slightly. Wooyoung's grip on your hips tightens as he senses your impending orgasm. He thrusts harder, faster, his cock pounding into you recklessly. "You look so sexy like this baby," he growls, his voice laced with urgency, his pleasure building with each passing second.

“Fuck-” you breathe as he goes faster, you trail your fingers down to your clit and start to rub. Your walls twitch as you get closer. Wooyoung watches you with intense focus, his climax rapidly approaching as he feels your walls begin to flutter around his cock. He reaches down, capturing your hand in his and forcing it away from your clit, his voice a low, dominant command. "No, baby. I'll decide when you come," You whimper looking up at him with pleading eyes, “Please-” Wooyoung's gaze is unwavering as he pins you beneath him, his thumb finding your clit and applying firm pressure. His hips ram into you, his cock driving deeper with each stroke. "When I say so, baby. Not a moment before,"

“Shit shit shit shit shit-” you moan trying your best to hold back from exploding around him. Wooyoung's eyes darken with lust as he sees how close you are. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I can feel you teetering, baby. Hold on just a bit longer." You reach for his head, gripping his hair tightly as you feel your walls quiver around him. Wooyoung's head jerks back slightly as you grasp his hair, his eyes flashing with a spark of pleasure. He hisses, his cock surging forward in response to your tightening walls. "Good girl," he breathes. "Now, come for me."

“Mmmmm Wooyoung!” you yell as you feel the knot in your core pop. You feel myself squirt all over his dick and stomach causing it to trail down onto his desk. Wooyoung's eyes roll back as he feels your pussy clench and pulse around him, your juices soaking his cock and belly. With a guttural groan, he buries himself into your soaked core and lets go, his orgasm washing over him in intense waves. "FUCK!" He drops down and nuzzles his face into the crock of your neck. Wooyoung's arms wrap around you, holding you close as your orgasm continues. His own breathing is heavy and labored, his muscles tense with aftershocks. You continue to shake involuntarily, holding onto him for support. "Easy now," he murmurs gently, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispers soothing words.

“Mmmm holy shit.” you gasp, trying to calm yourself down from your intense orgasm. "Did you enjoy that?" Wooyoung asks, his voice still shaky from exertion. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead before slowly pulling out of you, his softened cock slipping free with a wet, slick sound. “Yes… a lot,” you said shyly as his cum starts to leak out of your core. A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of Wooyoung's lips as he sees the result of his hard work. "Good girl," he praises, causing your cheeks to flush a light shade of red. He then reached down to gently wipe away the excess with his fingers before sucking them clean. "I'll take care of you now." Your eyes then open wide as you see him lick up a combination of my juices and his cum off his fingers. Wooyoung's gaze locks onto yours, his eyes burning with a sensual intensity as he savors the taste. A hint of amusement plays on his lips as if he knows exactly how his actions are affecting you. "Mm, you taste amazing," he whispers.

Your pussy twitches at his words causing more of his cum to leak out of your core. Wooyoung's eyes darken with renewed interest at the sight of his release dripping from your still-sensitive core. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick the trail of his cum from your inner thigh to your glistening pussy lips. "Delicious," he murmurs approvingly. You whimper and bite your lip in desperation. “Can we please… go another round?” Hearing your desperate plea, Wooyoung's eyes glint with desire. He moves between your legs, his cock twitching as he teases your entrance. "You want more, hm?" he teases, slowly pushing inside you. "Y-yes.” you moan, looking into his eyes and biting your lip.

Wooyoung's expression softens slightly at your eager response. He grips your hips possessively as he thrusts the rest of the way in, his thick length stretching you once again. "Wrap your legs around me, baby," he instructs gently, his voice belaying the dominance of his actions. “Fuck-” you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him deeper inside you. "I'm going to take you nice and slow this time, so I can watch you fall apart." His fingers dig into your soft skin, holding you close as he begins to move. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one causing you to moan in pleasure as he fills you completely. "That's right," he moans as you both look each other in the eyes. “Oh my god, that feels so good baby,” you moan rubbing your hand against his forearm. He leans down, his forehead pressed against yours as he continues his slow, deep thrusts. "You like that, don't you?" he murmurs against your lips. "You like feeling me inside you, stretching you, claiming you?"

“Yes, oh god yes,” you breathe, looking into his eyes. He leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as he increases the pace of his thrusts. His tongue tangles with yours, the movement mirroring the deep, claiming strokes of his cock inside you. You run your hand along his back gently clawing as he thrust into you. Wooyoung groans into the kiss, his body tensing as your nails dig into his skin. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks down at you with a fierce, possessive gaze. "Mine," he growls, his hips snapping forward in a harder, more demanding thrust. “Yours,” you breathed looking at him with half-lidded eyes. His face flashes with satisfaction at your surrender, and he thrust deeper, his cock stroking a spot that makes you spiral. "Always mine," he repeats, his voice low and menacing, as if daring anyone to try and take you from him, "Forever." 

“Forever” you repeat, your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure. Wooyoung's thrusts become erratic as the promise of forever sends him spiraling toward release. His cock swells inside you, and he groans deeply as he empties himself, filling you with his seed. "Forever," he repeats again and again, like a mantra. You start to rub his back as he comes down from his high. “Together forever,” you whispered in his ear. Wooyoung shivers at your whispered words, his body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. He turns his head, nuzzling his face into your neck as he wraps his arms around you protectively. "Always," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "Together, always." A tear starts to fall from your face knowing that Wooyoung finally sees me as his wife..

Wooyoung feels the tear come down on his cheek and he removes himself from your neck to look at you. His eyes soften as he notices the tear, and his gaze follows it as it rolls down your cheek. He gently wipes it away with his thumb, his touch tender. "My wife," he whispers, his voice filled with a deep affection, "my love." You pout as more tears start to stream down your cheeks, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to cry.” Wooyoung shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips. "Don’t apologize," he murmurs, kissing your forehead softly. "Your tears are precious to me." His thumb continues to gently stroke your cheek as he holds you close, offering comfort and reassurance. You press your head closer to his hand, wanting his touch to be closer to you.

Wooyoung's smile widens, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he gazes at you with warmth. He leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, tender kiss. "You are precious to me," he whispers. "You’re all I’ve ever wanted Wooyoung” you respond, caressing his shoulder. Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, and he takes a deep breath as if savoring the words. His fingers tighten around you, pulling you closer as he buries his face in the curve of your neck. "And you, my love," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “I’m so happy right now,” you smile. Wooyoung's face relaxes, and he exhales a contented sigh, his body melting into yours as he lets go of all reserve. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you close as he nuzzles his head deeper into the curve of your neck. "I am happy too." 

“I- I love you Wooyoung.” you express another tear falling down your face. Wooyoung's eyes snap open, and he lifts his head to gaze at you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. His face is etched with vulnerability, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you too," he says, his words dripping with sincerity. 

You giggle and move his hair out of his face. “We should get cleaned up. We made a huge mess on your desk.” Wooyoung's gaze lingers on yours, his eyes softening with affection before he nods and stands up, pulling you with him. He looks down at the mess on his desk and lets out a low chuckle. "I suppose we did," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. He carries you to the bathroom, turns on the shower, and you both get in together. As the warm water cascades down on you, Wooyoung wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he gently washes away the remnants of the passionate encounter. His hands move with a tender touch, his fingers tracing the curves of your body as he cleans you. "You know," he says suddenly. “Hmm?” you ask opening your eyes. Wooyoung's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intimate as he continues. "I think I'm falling for you." He pauses, his chest rising with a deep breath as he searches your face for a reaction. "Hard." 

“Now you see how I feel my love.” you giggle turning around and pressing your head against his chest. Wooyoung's arms tighten around you, holding you close as he rests his head on top of yours, inhaling deeply. He lets out a soft sigh, his body relaxing into the embrace as he whispers "My love," He kisses the top of your head, his lips gentle and adoring. Wooyoung's lips curve into a soft smile as he speaks, his voice filled with a warmth that's rarely seen. "I never thought I'd find someone like you. You're different. You make me feel" He pauses, his words trailing off as he searches for the right phrase. His gaze drifts downward, his eyes locking onto yours as he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "Human." He says the word as if it's a revelation, a subtle tremble in his hand as he strokes your hair.

Your eyes soften as you look at him with adoration. “Of course baby.” You get on your tippy toes and lay a soft kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed as your lips touch his, a soft sigh escaping him as he savors the gentle kiss. He deepens the kiss, his lips moving slowly and sweetly against yours, his arms tightening around you to pull you closer. “You’re my special human,” you cooed between the kiss. Wooyoung chuckles, his lips still moving against yours as he responds. "You're my everything," he whispers, his words muffled by the kiss. 

“No, you’re my everything.” you giggle and smile into the kiss. Wooyoung's smile mirrors yours, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender motion. "I think we can agree on that," he says, smiling warmly. You giggle and press your forehead on top of his, looking into his eyes. Wooyoung's gaze holds yours, his eyes darkening with emotion as he searches for words to express the depth of his feelings. "You're the only one who's ever seen me, truly seen me," he whispers, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “Oh Wooyoung.” you coo, rubbing his body to soothe his emotions. 

Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, his face tilting into the gentle touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he relaxes into your embrace. "You're my safe haven," he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the words are being torn from the depths of his soul. “You’re mine as well baby.” you express continuing to rub him. Wooyoung's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, "I don't deserve you."

“Trust me baby you deserve me. The most stubborn individuals always need their small adoring fairy.” You kiss his cheek and rub his head. A soft, husky laugh escapes Wooyoung's lips as he nuzzles his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you. "You're the only one who can tame me, little fairy," he whispers, his voice laced with affection and gratitude. You giggle, “And now I have a stubborn man that I have to take care of. But I don’t mind at all.” Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with amusement, a small smile playing on his lips as he pulls back to gaze at you, his face soft and affectionate. "You're stuck with me, little one,"

“I know, forever.” you chuckle, pressing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's lips curve upwards, meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss, as if savoring the promise of forever. "Forever," he whispers, his voice filled with conviction, his eyes locking onto yours, shining with a deep, abiding love.

[barrel-crow-n]

I was just thinking about how Kaz built this heartless persona for himself and how everyone falls for it to varying degrees: He's widely regarded as a monster and as "not made right"; Inej thought he wouldn't come for her and that once she was useless to him that he would discard her; Jesper never knows where exactly he stands with him; Nina "doesn't want to know what dark hole he crawled out of"; Wylan calls him "the most vengeful creature he had ever met"; Matthias believes he's a demon. But in reality his true motives for most things are love and grief and loss of family.

Kaz only wanted money for revenge, he didn't want to try and build a meaningful connection with Imogen because she would distract him from pursuing his vengeance, he only mentions how Pekka conned them out of money to explain how they ended up on the streets, how it was never about the money but about Jordie.

Kaz says that he and Jordie were such easy marks because they missed their dad. Kaz's biggest gripe was not just the loss of Jordie but the illusion of a home and family that Pekka had snatched away before the plague snatched Jordie away too.

It all always leads back to Jordie and his loss and avenging him and about never wanting to be that vulnerable again. Kaz created Kaz Brekker to protect himself, to hide his vulnerabilities. His grief is hidden behind a fake name, his naivety is hidden behind violence, his touch aversion is hidden behind the gloves.

Kaz pushes people away because he fears what will happen if he lets them in. He gets mean when he's vulnerable to hide said vulnerability. He did it in the clocktower, he did it in the bathroom. After he accidently calls Jesper Jordie he lashes out verbally and physically, when Inej asks about Jordie and Pekka's involvement in what happened he recounts how he tortured someone. In both incidents it's again Jordie that he's hiding, that is causing him to be vulnerable. It always leads back to Jordie. Even with Van Eck! He's again angry that he fell for what he fell for before, the thing that made him lose Jordie making him temporarily lose Inej.

In both the Jesper and Inej examples he hides behind violence - by brawling with Jesper and recounting a time when he tortured a young boy. He does this because he loves Inej and Jesper, and it scares him, and he doesn't know what to do with it. Because everyone he's ever loved has died in horrible ways (his father was torn apart by a plough, his brother died from a horrible sickness) and he doesn't want to go through it again - especially since he still hasn't let go of Jordie, although it has been eight years.

Kaz is a person who loves so deeply. Who is mainly motivated by love. Who, when Pekka asks him what he wants, replies "Bring my brother back from the dead." because he never cared about money, nor power, nor anything else. He just wants his brother. All he wanted this whole time is his brother, and since he no longer has him he lashes out, all hurt and grieving. He's hurting so badly that he destroys everyone even mildly involved in what took Jordie away from him. But he only did that because he loved Jordie. It wasn't revenge for the sake of money it was for the sake of love. It was for the sake of Jordie.

Kaz loved Jordie so much that he became the most feared person in Ketterdam, that he took down the King of the Barrel and a merchant from one of the oldest families in Ketterdam (because even if his gripe with Van Eck was unrelated, it's because of Jordie's loss that life snowballed into their interactions and the consequent betrayal and destruction of everything Van Eck held dear). Kaz loved Jordie so much that it changed the entire course of the narrative.

If not for Jordie's loss the heist wouldn't of happened, all of the Crows lives would've been different, some of the Crows would even most likely be dead, and this extends even further to much more major things. The King of Ravka managed to steal the titanium because of his help which will aid Ravka in wars, the path to jurda parem is no longer in the hands of the Fjerdans and a cure is being safely developed in Ravka because Kaz rescued Kuwei, Wylan took over the Van Eck empire because Kaz tampered with Van Eck's will and papers, Inej is working on taking down the slave trade which is only possible because Kaz freed her from her indenture, Nina became the queen of Fjerda because of things that Kaz started (her joining the Dregs instead of being indebted to the Dime Lions, him freeing Matthias, him organising the heist, Matthias dying in the aftermath, her going to Fjerda to bury Matthias and the results which ended up being her and her new lover on the Fjerdan throne trying to fix prejudice against grisha, and women, in the most conservative country).

All of it leads back to Kaz. And he did all of it for Jordie. It all always leads back to Jordie. Jordie and Kaz's love for his big brother and his grief over having him snatched away from him.

[vivwritesfics]

Handheld Camera

Tyler's best friend and camera person screwing a member of Storm Par? More likely than you think

Warnings: smut, p in v, hate fucking I guess, sex tape, unprotected sex, possible pregnancy

2.7K

"What're you doing?"

The handheld camera was pointed at Tyler as he walked towards her. When he stepped forward, she stepped back, keeping all of him in frame.

It had been a good ride, and she had videoed all of it. Both rounds were on her camera, ready for to be edited and gifted to Tyler. He reached for it, trying to snatch it out of her hands, but she stepped back.

"Come on, Ty!" She said as she stopped filming and put the camera down. "These are gonna be gold when you're a famous bull rider."

That had him grinning as he wrapped his arms around her and led her back to his truck. He wasn't going to tell her that he was rethinking a career as a bull rider, that he was thinking of going to school.

She spent the night clipping up the videos, perfecting the audio and piecing them together. She could have posted it online, drawn more people to Tyler's name.

But she held back. That was a conversation for later.

A conversation that would never come. Before she knew it, Tyler was off to study meteorology and she was, well, left behind.

Left in Oklahoma, working in her parents cafe. She watched the sky as she wiped down tables, thinking of him. Did he miss her as much as she was missing him?

Of course, he came home in the holidays. But he wasn't riding, anymore. He just watched storms, chased them.

At first, she was reluctant to go with him. Why would she throw herself into danger like that? But it had never been easy, saying no to Tyler Owens. Not when he gave her that look that guaranteed fun.

On the first chase, she'd been too scared to do anything other than hold onto her seat. On the second chase, she'd had her camera out the entire time, filming the storm and Tyler.

He was so natural in front of the camera, his personality shining. An idea sparked in her head, one that wouldn't come to fruition just yet.

That came after college, when Tyler was home for good. He was a little lost in what to do next, wanted to do something meaningful with his life. A terrible time to bring up storm chasing on YouTube.

But then they drove through a town, so full of devastation. They stopped, helped where they could, but there wasn't much. Finding people and lost pets.

That was when the idea came to life.

"We start a storm chasing YouTube Channel. We live stream, take the footage for the streams, and clip them up into videos. Ty, we could make so much money." He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him to it. "And that money could go towards helping people. People who have been ruined by tornadoes."

Tyler went to shake his head, but then he thought about it. "You'd handle the filming and the editing, and I get to just chase storms?"

A grin split across her face. "Exactly, Ty."

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, looking like some fucked up rabbit. "I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled and shook his head. "I have a condition."

"Lay it on me."

He stared at her, green eyes sparkling as he let his grin match her own. "I get to put my face on a tee-shirt."

***

Storm Par.

They weren't exactly trouble, more a nuisance. Always getting in the way of a good chase. It made for entertaining videos, if they were allowed to upload them.

They couldn't help what they captured on livestream. But that email she had received from a member of the Storm Par legal team had her editing the white trucks out of any clips she had before she uploaded them onto YouTube.

She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him.

Her camera was in front of her face, capturing footage of the storm to later use in the video. It was beautiful, something she didn't understand as well as Tyler.

But then she zoomed out, captured the storm with the wheat field beneath it. And the man in the hat and sunglasses. The tall man, who she could tell was scowling. He didn't even need to remove his glasses.

Ending the recording, she lowered the camera and looked at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, voice a little snippier than she meant for it to be.

He pulled his glasses off of his nose and let his expression soften as he looked at her. What was he thinking? What thoughts were turning over in his mind.

"You like storms?" He asked. For just a second, it sounded like a pickup line.

She looked down at her camera? "Like storms?" A grin crossed her face. "Oh, no. I record them because I hate them."

The sarcasm wasn't missed. It wasn't unappreciated, either. He stepped closer and tucked his glasses into the breast pocket of his white shirt. "I actually chase storms," he said. "As my job."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. This was before Storm Par and Tyler's little gang of chasers were really aware of each other. They knew one another was out there, getting in each others way, but not more than that. "Must be exciting."

"It is," he answered. "You get right up close to the danger."

"Is that all you do? Just chase them?"

He shook his head. "My team and I study them. We collect data on them to... help people." The way he said it, the way he paused. He knew he was spouting shit.

Before she could say anything more to the man from Storm Par (their hottest member, if you held a gun to her head and asked her), Tyler called her name. "We gotta go!" He shouted.

The man's eyes widened. "See ya, Storm Par," she said and saluted to him with just two fingers. She left him standing there as she ran over to Tyler's truck and climbed into the passenger seat.

They encountered each other on the chase, him staring at her through the window. Every time she pointed her camera at him, he looked back at the road.

Storm Par turned left at the fork in the road, and they turned right. Storm Par's tornado died, but theirs stayed strong. She buckled herself in and held the camera up as they drove into the tornado.

Storm Par parked up at the same motel they did. She locked eyes with him as she climbed out of the truck.

It was almost like he couldn't stop himself as he strode towards her. "You work with a bunch of cowboys," he said and chewed the gum in his mouth.

She released a flirtatious giggle. "Thank you," she said and blinked at him. His sunglasses no longer sat on his face and she could finally see his pretty eyes. They really were pretty. "You work with a bunch of stuck up assholes." She looked him up and down. "And you're the biggest stuck up asshole of them all."

Suddenly she was against the wall and his lips were against hers. The way she ran her fingers through his hair was almost feverish, knocking his hat from his head as he pressed his hips against hers.

"I can't fucking stand you," he growled out between kisses.

"I hate you too."

But he pulled her away from the wall and up to his room. It was nothing fancy, just a bed, a television, and a dingy bathroom. It was an exact copy of her own room, but that wasn't what she cared about at he threw her onto the bed.

That night was the first time they hooked up. He pulled down her jeans and discarded them on the floor, along with her shirt. She didn't even know his name as she rolled onto her stomach.

He grabbed her hips and held her up, thumb stroking over her skin as he entered her. That was sweet. The kisses he dropped onto her back were sweet.

But that was where the sweetness stopped. He snapped his hips against hers, setting a brutal pace. The bed beneath them squeaked, but it was drowned out by her whines and moans, her cries for more.

He grunted, tipping his head back. Sweat dripped down his face and his grip on her was bruising. She was loving every second of it.

Her legs spasmed, giving out ad she came. She clenched around him, the only thing holding her up being his strong grip. But he kept coming, kept burning the tip of his cock between her spongy walls.

But he was getting sloppy, his thrusts deeper, holding himself inside of her for longer. His breaths came out in short pants, spilling himself inside of her.

Breathless, he let go of her, let her collapse onto the bed. He fell down beside her, neither of them touching.

Her mouth was dry, throat somewhat sore as she looked at him. This wasn't how things were supposed to be post sex. She shivered as she shuffled closer, not close enough to touch.

"What's your name?" She asked, the question barely audible.

"Scott," he answered and shuffled back against the headboard.

The way he was staring down at her, she couldn't tell what he wanted. If he wanted her to get up and leave, or stay for a moment longer and tell him her name.

She was thinking too hard and too much, Scott decided as he scooted down the bed. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against his chest. "This can't happen again," he said as she let her hand settle against his beating heart.

"No," she agreed, voice croaking. "It can't."

Spoiler alert, it happened again.

They weren't always after the same tornado, weren't always on the same chase. But every time that red truck pulled in where they were, Scott couldn't help the way his heartbeat quickened.

If they were chasing the same storm, they ended up in each others bed.

At first, it was just sex. Sex with cuddling after (because Scott knew she needed it). But it turned into something more when he sat there reading while she edited their videos.

"I've had an idea," she said one evening as she let Scott into her hotel room. Her camera was in her hand, held down by her side.

Scott's stomach dropped. "We're not making a sex tape," he immediately said as he sat on the bed and toed off his shoes.

Sinking into his lap, she wrapped her arms around him. "C'mon, Scott. I just want to get a quick video of how hot you look while I'm riding you. Just for the Scott files."

The Scott files. A collection of every time she had edited him out of their videos. The collection of angry faces had turned into him unable to hide his smile.

Grinning, she pushed him down onto the bed. Scott held her hips as he looked up at her, the camera already in front of her face. The red light flashed as she began moving her hips.

Scott squeezed her hips but gave nothing away on his face. So, she put the camera down and unbuttoned his shirt.

He laid there, let her work. She unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall open. Grabbing the camera, she held it in front of her face once again, filming herself dragging her nails down his chest.

Throwing his head back, Scott let out a throaty moan. She caught it all on camera.

She opened his trousers and freed him. Scott sucked in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around him. The camera stayed focused on his face as she pumped her hand once, twice and then released him.

His eyes flew open and he glared down at her. But it was short lived. She put down the camera and began stripping off. The moment she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, Scott reached for the camera and held it up, capturing her as she stripped.

She was gorgeous. Scott already knew that, but this he wanted to keep forever.

Dropping her underwear, she reached for the camera once again. "Give it," she said and snatched it away from him.

Sitting on his lap, she concentrated the camera back on his face and ground against him. "Fuck," he breathed and reached for her hips. "Please, cowgirl."

Cowgirl. When had he started calling her that? It had started as an insult, she knew that much. But she loved it. Lifting her hips, Scott positioned himself beneath her and she sank herself down onto him.

Scott sucked in a breath. The camera was trained on him as she began to move. He gripped her hips, helping her to keep a steady rhythm.

She tried to keep the camera trained on Scott as she rode him. But it kept dropping, and it took her a moment to get it focused back on his face. But Scott took the camera from her hands. He put it down on the bed, pulled her to lay against him, and took charge.

The camera kept recording on the bed. It didn't capture much, and the audio wasn't as clear as she wanted it to be. When Scott came, throwing his head back, the camera just about caught it.

***

"Have you got yesterdays footage?" Tyler asked as he walked into her motel room.

Folding her arms over her chest, she grinned as she looked at her best friend. "Yesterdays footage, huh?" She asked and cocked her eyebrow. "What do you want with that?"

Tyler held his hands up in defence, but he was grinning. "Just science, I swear," he said quickly.

Just science and Kate was how she read it. Ever since they'd met Kate, Tyler had requested more footage than he usually wanted to see. But she didn't mind. Tyler was a lonely guy; she was going to do anything she could to help him get some.

"Yeah, it's on my laptop," she said and pointed to her desk.

Tyler walked over to the laptop. He opened the lid and typed in her password (of course he knew it, it was the same password as their YouTube Channel).

The laptop took a moment to load up. It was old, and she was putting a small fund together to get a new one, a better one for video editing. Her editing software opened, the screen blank for a moment.

But then the last thing she was working on, the last video she was editing, came up on her laptop.

"What the hell is this?"

She turned on her heel. There it was on her laptop screen, the video she had taken all those weeks ago. The editing process had been slow, since Scott would watch over her shoulder, start kissing her neck and pull her onto the bed.

Tyler looked back at her. He knew the face on the screen, the man that was staring at the camera as he moaned. "Is that Storm Par?" He asked. "Are you sleeping with Storm Par?"

She swallowed. But then she steadied herself, holding her head up high. "So what if I am?"

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. "Sleep with whoever," he said and clicked out of the editing software, minimising the screen. He didn't need to be seeing that. "As long as he's good to you and you're not getting hurt, you can sleep with who you want."

She released a deep, relieved breath. Hiding all of this from Tyler had been no easy task. She'd almost slipped up, almost mentioned something 'she and Scott' had seen the night before.

Tyler opened his arms and she fell into them, holding her best friend close. "He's not hurting you, is he?"

She shook her head. "He's good to me, Ty," she mumbled and shut her eyes. It felt so good to be in Tyler's arms again.

Neither of them were aware of how late her period was.

[thoughtsonkm]

Goodbye, for now

BABY? HONEY? BOYFRIEND SHOT? Jikook you're too much!

This episode was truly the best way to end the show, maybe even the best episode of the series. (Neck in neck with episode 2 of course) The way they enjoyed it so much but were also so sad it was over. The hot tension all around, the soft boyfriends mood who can't stop flirting and name calling each other with the most low-key couple-like sweet names. They could not stop laughing, they could not stop touching and they couldn't stop being hilarious without even trying.

~

SK Spotify daily chart end of November 2023 :

Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jimin

~

It would be such a full circle moment if Jimin posted the boyfriend photo (which won't happen). Would almost be like a soft launch of some sort.

Not the underwear too?? Gosh I love my little gay freaks!! (didn't understand why Jimin would quote their 'yet another inner joke meme' right at that moment but I've learned to not question their inner workings)

~

Sorry but i have to be pretty one last time and say that I kinda had enough of seeing so much from the crew around or even in Jikook's shots and angles. It breaks the fourth wall a little too much and ruins the whole bubble idea. Ok I'm done lol

~

Returning to the issue at hand, the "seeing the beds for the first time" scene keeps getting funnier and funnier. As if they don't already have designated sides of the bed 😏

~

Ah the never ending bickering gives me life. Peep the half korean half english talk when they playfully get on each others nerves 👀😂

I better not speak on the scuzzi jacuzzi shenanigans cause otherwise.. Let's just say the photo speaks for itself..

NO YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA SPEAK. We all know that jacuzzi time is always intimate, relaxing and personal for people that's why I wish Jikook had enjoyed it fully without cameras. Yes I'm pissed on their behalf, that they had to film the whole thing with 382929 different angles. lol

His face is literally saying "oh so you're really gonna make me do it huh? if I was in your place I would've folded immediately and would've never let you go through with it!!" 😂

~

No one ever:

Jikook every 2sec : HONEY OH HONEY

(I was actually listening to the song while writing this and idk why it's so funny to me even tho it's a sad love ballad)

~

They must've loved getting the chance to at least see one episode of the show, plus the idea of watching it together..

Jungkook being so entertained by it meanwhile Jimin being mortified about half of the things that happened. HILARIOUS

HAHAHHAHAHA all parties were concerned if they'd be able to pull it off, I can't

BEST BELIEVE they're always gonna find a way to touch. Consciously or unconsciously.

~

This show made me realize that my favourite thing ever is Jk making food for Jimin, then making him hysterically laugh and therefore getting to hear Jimin's adorable giggles.

~

"Hello it is I the one and only, the only one who can touch Jimin's head ble ble ble ble" - JK

Jk was like: How can you imagine Jimin without me in your dream? Are you crazy? What is this delusional dream world you live in Jin hyung??

~

Tbh it's so meaningful and a huge thing saying that these trips were literally the best trips of your life. I think the statement almost went over people's heads.

I can't get enough of Jimin looking pretty and cuddly and Jungkook's immediate thought being: I HAVE TO FILM YOU

Them saying they can do a reboot when they come back gave me some hope that maybe just maybe this is not the end of AYS 😭

The ending bonus clip left me fulfilled but also sad and with goosebumps all over.

Thank you Jimin & Jungkook for letting us peek into this trip and getting to witness some of your precious moments.

Signing off, J&J 🥹

Ps. So I'm guessing the 52 minute video that comes with the photobook is probably the 3 bts videos combined that they've been reviewing for 48392 months right?

[andy-wm]

i'm wondering how your thesis of "idols will come out when they want" fits into your insane shadow analysis attempting to prove jimin and jungkook fucked in the middle of their travel show (amongst other things)? like do you get joy out or trying to drag someone out of a closet they might not be in? or is it something else? just curious! 😀

Hey wdcmaxy

Since you have the guts to use your name I'll respond :)

So, you read my thesis?

*Sips whisky*

Cool. And you read my insane shadow analysis too?

Hmmm... do you come here often?

Let me answer your question then.

I think we both know the shadows analysis isn't really insane - it's based on very basic earth science. Shadows grow longer as the day progresses because of the rotation of the earth on its axis. You sound reasonably literate so i assume you know this already.

I guess your description of my shadow analysis ( I think I'll name my next racehorse 'Shadow Analysis') as insane is an attempt to discredit the idea that a fair bit of time passed while Tae was out of the house? But that was kinda silly on your part. Even children know that shadows change as the day passes.

Nothing insane about it.

He was gone for hours, no debate.

Now let's move on to the fucking part, and when and how idols choose to come out.

This is actually worth discussing.

As flattered as i am that you think my tiny insignificant blog could be a game changer for anyone, let's be real.

How many people, besides yourself, do you think read my blog?

Serious question.

I'm estimating maybe 100. Double that on a good day. Maybe 300 if i write something REALLY profound which doesn't happen often.

I am way less excited about my impact on the world than you are, because I'm a realist.

BUT if by some strange twist of fate my blog came to the attention of someone whose opinion mattered (I'm not counting you, don't worry) do you think they would take it seriously? Do you REALLY imagine a random tumblr post about shadows could make someone believe that an idol was gay if they didn't already believe it?

Here's a great example of how that wouldn't happen:

You, dear reader.

You're my example.

You came here to tell me I'm speaking shit and that I should pull my head in, correct? My insane shadow analysis hasn't changed your beliefs at all. You're here, throwing a tantrum on my page, because you don't agree with what I'm saying, not because you suddenly believe it.

Or ...

Perhaps you suspect it's true and that scares you. Maybe you can't be absolutely sure I'm wrong and that's why you need to yell at me? Could that be it? Time for a bit of self reflection?

Either way, it's not going to make an iota of difference in the grand scheme of things.

We are all just dust motes floating through time and space, my friend. You dont need to worry so much. The universe is unfolding exactly as intended.

However... There are a couple of things we should agree on:

The fact is that the shadows grew long and therefore, time passed. And Tae was out for several hours. Maybe he went out for a bit of afternoon delight himself? Maybe Jimin and Jungkook played Pokemon Go all afternoon, or prayed, or practiced their English, or braided each other's hair.

Regardless of whether they did or didn't fuck, or how many times, or on what surfaces, the time still passed.

And whether I write my blog or not, people will believe what they believe. And they will be gay or they won't be gay.

And even though I never mentioned anything about them fucking in that post, whether you like it or not Jimin and Jungkook might be fucking right now, as you read this.

One last thing...

Please bear in mind, through all of this, that fucking is not the be all and end all of life. Sure its a lot of fun if you do it right but the notion that it's more meaningful than sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, or giving someone your time and energy, is bullshit.

You can have a roots-deep love for someone and never even think of fucking them. Or you can meet someone in a public toilet and have at it, and leave without even knowing their name.

Sex does not equal love. Fucking is not that big of a big deal.

Unless...

Unless you're fucking someone the patriarchy doesn't want you to fuck. Then its a major issue.

Hear me out.

The need to control who we fuck is based a patriarchal need to control material wealth.

To control material wealth, the patriarchy needs to control reproduction (so they can be sure their wealth stays with their bloodline, because wealth is built over many generations) and to do THAT they need to control womens' bodies.... and to do that, of course they need to control who women fuck. And who men fuck too!

Do you know what the ACTUAL issue is with men who like dick? They don't automatically buy into the patriarchal way of life. (where's the solidarity, lads?)

Why don't they?

Because lifelong monogamy and marriage and nuclear families don't matter as much when you're not equating love with sex, and sex with reproduction. When your goal isn't to accumulate wealth and pass it down to your children.

Same thing applies to women who love women. They aren't focused on being demure and pleasing the men in power. They aren't focused on making themselves wife material. They will challenge the status quo and maybe even (shock! horror!) decide not to have children. How the heck do you make sure your money and power stays in the family, how do you build an empire, when the women are perfectly happy having sex with each other and don't want to love, honour and obey??

And whose fault is all this?

Its got to be the damned queers, right? They're making people think there might be other ways to share your life with those you care about! That's why its important to squash down gayness whenever you can, right, wdcmaxy?

Look at them destroying the fabric of society!

If Jimin and Jungkook ARE fucking every chance they get, good for them. I hope they're balls deep and breathless, hitting all those sweet spots for each other having a really good time.

And if they're not fucking, it actually doesn't matter to me because the way they support each other and share their hearts is beautiful. (I do think they are fucking though)

Truthfully, whatever they're doing, as long as they're happy I'm happy.

Can you say the same, wdcmaxy?

Peace.

[linkspooky]

Love your JJK metas - apologies if I missed it, but any thoughts on Gojo feeling that he was "left behind" and has to "catch up" to Geto before slaughtering the higher ups?

I don't think the impact Shibuya had on him was really explicitly explored, except for that one panel where he said it was his responsibility, but him internally seeing it as following Geto's path in a way surprised me - it makes sense to me, but it doesn't at the same time.

This is a question I really wanted to answer, but delayed for a long time because I wanted to think it over. When the exhibition changed and Gege released his original draft for this scene, it helped clarify a lot of my thoughts on this scene.

"If you want to kill me, kill me. I wouldn’t mind if it were by your hand. But make sure mine is the only life you take.”

These lines become more meaningful if you think of them in the context of earlier events in Hidden Inventory. It sheds light on a lot of scenes from the flashback arc.

In particular this scene.

In his post-enlightenment high Gojo could kill the entirety of the Star Plasma Cult and feel nothing about it to punish them for Riko's death, but he lives the ultimate decision up to Geto.

In that moment Geto convinces him that killing these bystanders would be pointless, because society has other methods for punishing the members of this cult. Specifically he tells Gojo that it's not their job as Jujutsu Sorcerers to punish these people. He basically confines Gojo to the morality of a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Sorcerers kill curse users yes, but they never use their curse techniques on other people like the members in the crowd who don't fight back. Jujutusu Sorcerers aren't a part of the japanese justice system, they exist for one job and that is to deal with curses and curse users in order to prevent them from hurting normal people.

So Geto's lpong explanation to Gojo to talk him down from slaughtering the crowd that's applauding for Riko's death amounts to "That's not our job." He also emphasizes how killing these people wouldn't accomplish anything, because the group was going to disband anyway, and these are just rank and file believers the leaders of the cult are already gone. So in total two reasons, 1) it's not our job, 2) this murder wouldn't accomplish anything.

In the KFC breakup, Gojo parrots Geto's own arguments about killing right back at him. Notice that when they're having their argument Gojo never brings up the fact that killing is wrong, but that killing non-sorcerers is pointless because the sheer amount of number of people you would have to kill is so enormous it's impossible.

Geto's methods are wrong not because they're immoral but because they're impractical. It's not whether or not killing is right or wrong. It's meaningles killing vs. killing with a purpose. Geto's goal is completely impossible for him to accomplish, so all the people he killed in name of that goal died for no reason.

Gojo and Geto are specifically arguing about methods, not morality. Gojo is especially troubled because he's trying to appeal to Geto using the morality that Geto taught him, obligation as a sorcerer, justice, killing with purpose, but now it's all falling on Geto's deaf ears. I think it's poignant Gojo at this stage in his life can't really form a moral argument of his own just repeat Geto's words back at him, it shows how much Gojo was using Geto as a guidepoint.

Gege even says in the databook the reason Gojo stopped himself from killing the cult is that he was using Geto's moral reasoning and not his own.

So in a way, it's Geto's words that prevented Gojo from being a monster all the way back in Hidden Iventnory. Yet, we see in premature death Gojo's completely unable to talk Geto down from the ledge he was standing on.

Even though the words he's using are Geto's words. Perhaps, because the words he's using are Geto's words. Gojo's faith in Geto as a partner and a moral guidepost was so unshakable he's not capable of reconciling with the fact that the person standing in front of him right now slaughtered a whole village.

Geto leaves, and Gojo lacks the words to make him stay. However, in spite of the fact that this scene is called the KFC breakup this, Geto and Gojo aren't ending their relationship. In Jujutsu Kaisen Zero, Geto is surprised by the fact that Gojo still trusts him and feels the same way years later. In Gojo's dying dream, he states that he would have been satisfied losing to Sukuna if Geto was there to wish him good luck before he left. The Geto he pictures is the one in his Gojo-Gesa, the corrupted adult Geto, and not the one he used in childhood.

This is also after Geto expresses jealousy that Gojo wanted to provide a challenge to Sukuna and force him to go all out, because Gojo understood Sukuna's isolation from being the strongest. Because Geto and Gojo's relationship began from the fact that Geto was the only other special grade in their year and therefore the only one able to understand Gojo by being just as strong as he was. Only for Gojo to immediately say that he wasn't satisfied going all out against Sukuna, because Geto wasn't there. It wasn't Geto's power he needed, but his presence.

Geto wasn't leaving Gojo. He was leaving Jujutsu Society. However, since Gojo is such an integral part of Jujutsu Society, it's essentially the same thing. They're not breaking apart because their no longer friends, but because their morals are so different. Even if his attempts at reform wasn't so radical as killing all human beings, Gojo still wouldn't be able to leave with Geto because without Jujutsu Society there is no Gojo Satoru.

Gojo doesn't believe that massacring half the world is possible, but in a way he probably wouldn't believe even a less extreme reform is impossible as long as it was accomplished from the outside. Gojo has always been an internal reformist while at the same time being a radical. Gojo stated this early on he can just kill the people on top but that would make him a monster.

Remember what I emphasized above, Geto convinced Gojo not to slaughter the members of the Star Cult because it's not a Jujutsu Sorcerer's job to punish people like that. If he crossed that line he'd no longer be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Gojo not only lives to be a sorcerer, but the time in his youth when he was with Geto was the only time he ever felt understood and that there was someone he could rely on.

Geto crossed that line and when he killed the people of Nanako and Mimiko's village (the way that Geto wanted to kill Riko's murderers that day), he was no longer acting as a sorcerer. Geto stopped being a sorcerer, but Gojo couldn't follow him because Gojo lives to be a sorcerer.

Gojo's plan is therefore create sorcerers strong enough that they can support each other the way that him and Geto should have. Create strong allies so that in the next generation no-one will be left behind.

Gojo's belief is that what he needed was stronger allies, not a systemic issue. When his attempts at reform fail, and he wakes up to see that all of his students have had execution orders placed on them by the higher ups he finally gives up on the notion of internal reform.

Gojo eventually ended up committing a mass slaughter for his perceived greater good. The same kind of mass slaughter that Geto prevented him from doing that day he avenged Riko's death. By doing that, he stopped being a sorcerer.

Now that we've finally come full circle I'm going to explain what I think Gojo means by "I can't do that. That day I was left behind, so I have to catch up."

The most direct interpretation is that Gojo is echoing Yuta's sentiment. Geto became a monster all on his own and left Gojo behind. Now, years after the fact Gojo is realizing that Geto's violent action was necessary and he's essentially leaving his role as a sorcerer to become more like Gojo. He's finally understood why Geto did what he did, years after the fact, and far too late.

In one sense Gojo is becoming Geto in this scene. In another sense, he's recalling how he felt years before when he watched Geto walk away. Geto is the one who kept Gojo from being a monster and kept him on the path of being a sorcerer, only for Geto to go off that path himself. Not only that though, but in their final conversation, Geto made sure to still try to keep Gojo on that path.

Remember this line from the original draft:

"If you want to kill me, kill me. I wouldn’t mind if it were by your hand. But make sure mine is the only life you take.”

This line is essentially the same as this, but look at the paneling.

Gojo is about to unleash a hollow purple on Geto, but when Geto disappears into the crowd of people he stops. In order to kill Geto, he would have had to kill several innocent people in the crowd so Gojo hesitates.

The original draft lines indicate that Geto did this on purpose. He told Gojo to be sure only to kill him and not kill anyone else because he still wants Gojo to remain a sorcerer. Geto was resolved to become a monster on his own and didn't want to drag Gojo down with him.

Geto is leaving and he doesn't want Gojo to become with, because Gojo is the happiest when he's a sorcerer.

In the Hidden Inventory Gojo is playing the role of Yuta, begging Geto not to become a monster alone only to be left behind. In the future Gojo resolves to become a monster like Geto. Even though he's finally trying to understand his friend, he's a year too late. Geto is dead and he can't catch up now.

[papillon-stories]

Go Eunhyuk x reader ꕥ General bf headcanons ꕥ

This wasn't a request, just an idea that crossed my mind. As I do it, I realize that we all need Eunhyuk. So if you're not Eunhyuk, there's no need to introduce yourself to me.

No warning, just a lot of fluff and broken English

Happy reading !

He was very confused when he realized his feelings for you. Despite his cold attitude, Eunhyuk is someone who thinks a lot.

He ended up confessing his feelings without really doing so. He showed clear signs that he had fallen in love - apparently obvious to everyone except you.

Eventually, he told you directly in an unexpected moment. You were studying, and he couldn't help but watch all the little quirky things you did without realizing it, which he loves, and then he blurted out "I love you".

It was spontaneous, and he didn't even realize it. He became a blushing mess, hiding his face with the back of his hand and looking away.

On your side, it wasn't any better. It took a few good seconds for you to realize what he had just said to you.

You were even more red than him, and you had been waiting for this moment for so long (you didn't think his feelings were mutual, so you at least wanted to stay friends).

After the confession, your relationship didn't change much because without realizing it, you were already in a pre-couple stage.

The only thing that was new for both of you was the more intimate part of your relationship.

In public, he's not a fan of PDA, but he will always touch you in one way or another, by brushing against you when you pass by, holding hands under the table, stealing a kiss when no one is looking - these are small gestures that mean a lot to him.

He loves to see you blush or be flustered when this happens and you try to act like you can handle it - he sees through you like an open book.

But in private, it's a different story. He always has his arms around you.

He's definitely he big spoon, even though he secretly loves it when his s/o takes care of him in their arms.

He loves to kiss you unexpectedly, even in private, but the difference is that he takes his time. He loves to feel close to you, and this poor boy is hungry for your love.

If you stroke his hair while his head rests on your lap, he'll melt on the spot and might even fall asleep.

Another thing he'll never admit is that he loves feeling intimate and connected with you. In those moments, he clears his mind, and nothing else matters.

One of his love languages, in addition to the small meaningful gestures and touches, is spending quality time together.

He'll always take you on spontaneous or planned dates, as long as you're together, he's winning.

He's not a big fan of pet names, but in private, he likes to call you "Babe". Overly sweet names are not really his thing.

However, he doesn't mind if you call him by cute nicknames in private. In fact, he loves it.

He's very protective of you, and he'll always keep an eye on you in situations where you're around a group of people.

He's a huge moral support and always on your side.

But if he thinks there's a situation where you acted wrongly, he'll tell you, but only in private. (capable man u.u)

He always makes you feel special and doesn't hesitate to show you that you're his priority.

Eunhyuk doesn't make a big deal out of his personal feelings, even though they are important to him, but with you, he lets his guard down.

He has told you about his childhood and stories about his father and mother.

He confides in you because he trusts you, and you should never break that trust because it's hard to earn.

He appreciates that you are a great support for him, even though he acts like everything is fine. But you know him as well as he knows you, and you know that he downplays his situation, so you'll be there for him no matter what he says because you can read it in his eyes.

You didn't really need words to understand each other.

Your ability to read each other's emotions and thoughts without having to express them explicitly is an indication of the deep bond and connection you share.

It's a testament to the trust and understanding you have built over time, and it's one of the things that makes your relationship special and strong

He always has small gestures for you, but he'll act like they're not a big deal.

For example, if you fell asleep in class due to lack of sleep, he'll go buy you an energy drink during the break and place it on your desk because "you look pitiful".

Or if they serve your favorite dessert in the cafeteria, he'll give you his portion because he "isn't hungry anymore".

Or if you forgot to do your homework, he'll never copy it as quickly as he does for you.

And if you mentioned a pair of shoes the other day, it'll be your next gift.

He'll always wait for you to finish what you're doing, and he'll never leave you alone or hanging.

These are all small things that he does for you, but they show how much he cares and how attentive he is to your needs.

He likes to walk you home after class or every date, you'll never have to walk alone.

He's very observant and listens to everything you say, but he acts like he's not really interested - you know he's actively listening.

HE'S JEALOUS! He has a hard time with his own character trait, he hates being jealous.

If he sees you talking to another guy, he won't make a big deal out of it and will let it go, even though he'll feel - against his will - a twinge of jealousy.

However, if he sees you uncomfortable or if the other guy is too insistent, he'll simply come from behind and wrap his arms around you as if nothing is wrong. "Everything okay here?" he won't wait for an answer, and he'll simply wait for the guy to get the message and leave - especially with the deadly glare he gives him.

He cherishes every little thing you give him, even if it's a ridiculous trinket or a simple lollipop.

You have matching keychains, and sometimes you like to match your shoes or clothes.

You have a piece of jewelry in common, a necklace with the first letter of each other's name.

He spoils you a lot, so if you want to invite him or pay for one of your dates, you'll have to be cunning because he's always the quickest to pay.

He loves to make his s/o happy.

He's grateful to be in a healthy relationship with you, and he hopes it will last a very long time (until death do you part...?).

In essence, Eunhyuk is a caring boyfriend who knows how to listen to you, protect you, and be a moral support.

He always encourages you in your projects (yes, he's perfect).

With time, you've learned to read between the lines in his seemingly cold attitude. He loves you, but sometimes he just doesn't know how to express it - but you know it.

You probably fell in love first, but he definitely fell harder.

Thank you for reading ღ Do you want more ?

[absolutelymarshmallow]

This is my favourite scene in the show

I never noticed how complex Crowley’s outfit is in this scene. There’s red embroidery, a black sash. The rob itself is supposed to be rough, heavy, grey.

However, in the first scene in the show, Aziraphale’s robes are light, white, cotton, gold embroidered, and two-pieced. A poncho, and a skirt. His outfit is supposed to look generic, like an angel uniform. Heaven adopted this odd, manufactured, cold neatness after the fall. 

Crowley’s outfit after the fall is more like a dress. It’s being held together by the black sash. It also looks more fitted to his body, and this makes me suspect that he made this himself. The Color scheme is also fitting to his hair.

Crowley had always been naturally dramatic, everyone knows that. However, I think this is his first minor ‘fuck you’ to hell. The heaven Color scheme is grey, white, tan, gold, and primarily purple. However, before, it was primarily gold and white. Aziraphale has ways opted for golds and whites as well, but he also has a love for browns and blues. This is how you know it’s a heaven uniform.

Hell’s color scheme in the beginning is yet to be observed but it’s probably not grey, black, and red. Those are all Crowley’s colors.

He’s been separating himself from hell since the very beginning. I say *first* ‘fuck-you’ because he had been wearing these robes before he gave humans the apple: an accidental good deed, the original good-natured rebellion.

Aziraphale has been accidentally doing ‘bad’ (or minorly negative) things since the beginning as well. He got caught up trying to save an angel, he gave away a sword, and most importantly he the concept invented war and weaponry in the human history.

I think this scene’s importance gets lost on a lot of people.

Aziraphale shielding Crowley is also very, very important, no matter how adorable. He, at this point, remembers Crowley. He looks guilty, nervous even, when he sees him slither up to him. Not just because he’s a snake, but you can see there’s something small and personal that he’s trying his best to hide. I think he knows.

Then, he learns his name for the first time, it just happens to be his demonic one. He never mentions his angel name, *never*, because he doesn’t know it. But more importantly, he doesn’t want to offend Crowley.

And yet they have a meaningful conversation, which is !also! very important. The first time he meets him as an angel,  Aziraphale looks like he’s flustered and smitten. He fell first, literally and figuratively. However,  Crowley isn’t at all interested in making conversation with this angel. He’s just excitedly talking about stars. Which, I admit, is adorable, but it wasn’t in any way of meaning other than that’s when they met.

Aziraphale realises how this *new* first, important conversation is utterly vital, in their relationship. Crowley is interested in Aziraphale, and he *does not remember him* at *all*. To Crowley, he’s lost all his memories now, which he regains later over a few millennia. I suspect, he’s regained all his memories by the book of Job, which is why he acts how he does.

Crowley falls in love immediately. Angels, fallen or otherwise, have shown him nothing but disrespect since he fell. And here’s this Angel trying to help him. Aziraphale indeed has guilt, but seeing someone he knew like this, wiped clean and ‘disfigured’ (or, beautiful), makes him realise what the fall actually *was*.

Just think.

An innocent star maker. And now he sees Crowley, the *real* Crowley. He’s witty, and fun, and outward. He’s making conversation, he’s comforting, he’s sarcastic.

He’s a real being.

And how neat.

So, he holds on. He shields him. Like he was shielded before, equally innocent and new to the universe, as Crowley’s now new to earth.

He sees himself.

Aziraphale is a lot more mature with how he treats Crowley in the beginning than people realise, but he loses that later once they start forming their own side, also in the book of Job.

Emotions are complicated. I know I’ve been talking for a long time, but I think it’s neat is all.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

👑🩰MOVIE THERAPY👑🩰

-In this post, I want to mention the lessons I learnt from two beautiful movies - Queen and English Vinglish. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND these movies!!! YOU WILL NOT REGRET WATCHING THESE MOVIES !!! Both the movies start with women who are timid , stuck in their past , trying to please others , lack self love , dependent on others but in the end they become independent, confident and develop self love. Isn't that wonderful ?

Let's start from Queen movie starring Kangana Ranaut, Rajkumar Rao and Lisa Haydon. It's about a girl named Rani who was dumped by her fiance and she decides to go on honeymoon, all by herself

1) IF THEY LEAVE YOU , IT IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD

Rani's fiance dumped her just before the wedding, ofc she was heartbroken and locked herself in room . After that she decided to go to honeymoon, all by herself! She went to the same place where she was supposed to go after her marriage - Amsterdam , Paris . I know it hurts , when a close one , whether it's your fiance , boyfriend, girlfriend , best friend etc leaves your side with or without any reason. As once a wise women said , you lose people who aren't meant for the best version of you . Even if they leave, you have to enjoy your own company and continue with your own life . Vijay aka Rani's fiance cancelling the wedding was a blessing in disguise . Also if they left without any reason or if they were just embarrassed by you , they didn't deserve you at all .

2) YOU ARE COMPLETE ON YOUR OWN

Yes , here is a spoiler from the movie , Rani doesn't end up with any new guy or gets married to her ex-fiance. Infact , she becomes independent and free. You are whole on your own. You are complete on your own , you don't need anyone to complete you , you need someone to accept you . You are a queen or king and will always remain one ! You can be happy on your own. You don't need anyone or their approval.

3) HAVE FUN WITH FRIENDS , DON'T JUDGE EACH OTHER

Rani met VijayLaxmi , Olexander or ( Sikander🐵) , Taka and Tim . Their friendship was perfect example of "opposites attract " . However , despite the differences, she never judged them because she knew they were good human beings , deep inside .

4) A MAKE-OVER IS NEVER A BAD IDEA !

A makeover can make you feel confident in yourself. The way you present and take care of yourself also shows how much you love and respect yourself. So wear a pretty pink dress and straight your hair or maybe curl them , whatever you like ! Also REMEMBER YOU ARE DOING IT FOR YOUUU!!!!!!!🧁💖

5) STEP OUTSIDE OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE

Why?? You don't grow in your comfort zone. Rani stepped out of her native country and tralleveled all alone to a country where she was supposed to go with her ex fiance. Remember Great things never come from comfort zone.

6) FREE YOURSELF

Be independent. Love yourself. Respect yourself. There is a scene in the movie where Rani rejects her fiance when he comes back while they play a beautiful and meaningful song in background . That scene represents Rani's walk of liberation. Rani finally became independent, learnt to love herself and be her own person !!

7)" THANK YOU " - RANI, QUEEN 2013

Rani thanks her fiance when he comes back to her. No, she doesn't take him back . She finally realized that if he didn't cancel the marriage, she would have never become her highest self which was confident , full of self love and independent. It was truly a blessing in disguise. Say thank you to all those hurtful past experiences, those experiences made you wiser. Say thank you to all the people who left you at your worst because they made you realize that you only need one person and that's YOU !

Lessons learnt from English vinglish , starring Sridevi . It's about a woman named Shashi who didn't receive any respect from her family peers for not knowing English. She was also timid and often mistreated by her daughter and not appreciated enough by her own husband.

1) STEP OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE

Shashi went to New York inorder to attend her sister's wedding but she couldn't speak or understand English. She went to a country where she didn't know how to communicate with anyone. You must get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

2) TURN YOUR WEAKNESS INTO STRENGTH

Shashi was mocked by her own family for not knowing English. She took English classes and learnt English. She was committed and determined to learn English so she succeeded . She gave a meaningful speech in English too which shocked her daughter and her husband whereas some people were proud of her - her little son , her other cousin Radha , her English teacher and class peers. Later , her family also felt bad for mistreating like and they developed respect for her . Also please respect your parents , don't humiliate them for not knowing something or anything. The scene where Shashi cried because her daughter disrespected her were so painful to watch .

3) DON'T ALLOW OTHERS TO DEGRADE YOUR JOB OR HOBBY

Shashi was never appreciated for her being good at making sweets and her buisness was going pretty well but she never got the appreciation she deserved and was degraded by her own husband for being called " entrepreneur ". If you like something and if it is beneficial to you too , then don't care what others are saying , even if it's someone from your family.

4) IT IS NEVER LATE TO START OR LEARN SOMETHING NEW

Shashi learnt English when she was in her ripe age , age is just a number when it comes to learning. You are never too old to learn , Instead of crying over the time lost and undermining oneself, it’s better to value-add by learning something new-something that you had always wanted to do but couldn’t because of time, money or other constraints.

5) DON'T GIVE UP

Shashi faced alot of troubles when she was learning English , however she did not give up. Was it worth it ? YES! Finish what you have started.

5) SELF-LOVE

Shashi summarized it in few words which hit hard so I will just end this post with her quote

" When you don't like yourself, you tend to dislike everything associated with you . New things seem to be more attractive , but once you start loving yourself , the same old life begins to feel new and good "

-Shashi , English Vinglish , 2012

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

[defnotririi]

Han Jisung idol boyfriend - Headcanons

1. Casual Fan to Loyal Follower

Han would probably notice you as a loyal fan early on. Maybe you’d post thoughtful messages or genuinely insightful comments on his performances. He'd appreciate how you notice small details that most fans overlook and would start looking for your comments and reactions online.

2. Shout-Outs on Stage

If he spots you in the crowd, he’d make sure to acknowledge you in some way, like a quick wink, a wave, or even saying something casual but meaningful like, “There’s someone here who really gets us!” Fans would swoon, but only you would know it was for you.

3. Social Media Secret Codes

Over time, Han would develop a special way of communicating with you through his social media posts. Maybe it’s an inside joke you two share or a unique emoji combination he only uses when talking to you. It becomes your little secret that others try to decode.

4. Song Lyrics with a Message

Han’s lyrics are known to be heartfelt, and he’d start writing lines that seem to speak directly to you. He'd never say it out loud, but you'd notice hints of your interactions or specific phrases only you two know in his songs, and it'd make you feel even closer to him.

5. Personalized Fan Gifts

During a fan meet or a special concert, he’d give you a personalized gift, like a letter with a few encouraging words or a small token that’s specific to your conversations or shared interests. He'd say something like, “This is for my No. 1 fan,” and leave everyone in awe.

6. Behind-the-Scenes Mentions

Han would talk about you in interviews sometimes, though he’d be vague. “There’s this fan who always knows just what I mean with my music,” he’d say, and people would speculate, but you’d know it’s about you. He might even tell stories about you without revealing your name.

7. Mutual Motivations

Just as you’re inspired by Han, he finds motivation in you as well. On tough days, he might think about how you support him through every high and low, which gives him the strength to keep going. He’d see you as part of his support system, even if he doesn’t know you personally.

8. A Special Song

Han would eventually create a song dedicated to you and his other most loyal fans. In the lyrics, he’d allude to the warmth and encouragement you bring, making it clear to anyone who has been there since the beginning that he appreciates every bit of support. The song would be filled with hidden messages, and you'd know each line has a piece of you in it.

9. End of Concert Moments

At the end of his concerts, he’d always linger a bit longer if he knows you’re there, looking in your direction with a big smile, as if to say, Thank you for being here. It’d be an unspoken promise that he recognizes and appreciates you just as much as you love him.

[dragonstailbutch]

Hey sorry i am trying to like. find examples of what you mean when you talk about mra stuff and (trans)misogyny in forcemasc content and tumblr search has betrayed me once again, can you explain?

(sorry I normally wouldn't ask but I wanna make sure I'm not perpetuating anything!! Also fucking tumblr search!!! it is ridiculous!)

so ive been sitting on this ask for months since ive got it. i want to do it justice and try to take it at face value that its being honest in asking.

The thing is, theres this trend and a weird amount of effort to be like force femme, to be forceful and like its something to fearful of and give in to. But we cant do that, cause all that does is reinforce the idea that being a man is a toxic thing. I saw this post the other day where a transman talked about like, the whole "raised as a weapon" thing, the violence and horror of being a man and raised that way versus how they felt growng into it as a transman. How they wanted to reclaim that phrase or something? i could be misremembering.

But that was never the intent of forcemasc. It wasnt actually about being a dude, literally *forcing* someone who was unwilling into masculinity, none of the posts that i made that started the community (and yes i, a transfem butch woman, started and made this community and some of yall need to get over yourselves) were ever about that, it was intended to be a soft mimic or even a call to forcefemme.

i was all about making it soft and tender for a reason, cause if i didnt i was only reinforcing the toxic masculinity narrative, "men fighting in the mud" "men are dominant and cool" " to be a man is to be forced into masculinity and to be disgusted with the feminine" or whatever. When masculinity isnt about just men, and being butch isnt just being masculine. masculinity should also be sensitivity, not domination. i wanted it to be better, show a better side of what masculinity could be, what being butch is.

Ive spoken before a bit too, about the tags people used and added to forcemasc, and really maybe i was wrong in ever naming it forcemasc. people used and still use tags like autoandrophilia, autoandrophile, androphile, autogynephilia, androphilia, and autogynephile. Ive seen so many people with urls and tags and posts calling themselves transandrobros, literally calling themselves MRAs, as if that was something to be proud of, as if they dont understand that they arent fighting for their and our rights, they're fighting for cis-mens rights by using those names and terms, not transmascs/transmens rights. I can understand ignorance, but weve talked about how the words you use have history, especially those like the tags i mentioned and androphilia and androphobia and others, all of them have roots in deeeeeeeply misogynistic and transphobic people and history.

Literally all of these are awful and are phrases that arent and wont be reclaimed because theyre history is one of pain and hurting trans people, one of coercive 'help', literal forced detransitioning and reinforcement of MRA and terf narrative that men are both good and the worst creature alive and that to be a woman is to be disgusting and the purest thing all at once. That to be a transwoman is sick and we shouldnt be trusted.

Im trying to be very kind, not scream and rage, not because i dont desperately want to, but because if i do, as a butch transwoman, ESPECIALLY cause i claim being butch, people wont listen to me no matter how much of what i say is meaningful. one of the reasons why im doing this NO, instead of in anothr day or two, is that im coming to terms with the fact that the situation will just get qorse, not better without words.

Part of why im still sane is that ive gotten a couple asks here and there about how my posts and creation of the community has helped them and its so wonderful to see that, genuinely so amazing to see people recontextualize and love themselves. its wonderful and im so fucking happy about it.

i personally made this space so i could love myself, who i am as a trans person and my body, and i knew that other people needed and wanted that for themselves too and i wanted to help, share this love with more people. That to be hairy and chubby and masculine and butch was a nice thing. But to me it feels like it was coerced into being a thing for Men. A thing no longer for me or people like me who share the butch culture and name to no longer enjoy cause people unfamiliar with kink and tran history have decided that masculinity and butchness are the exact same thing. Id say people should go be a bear, but you wont learn their culture either and thats cruel and insulting to bears.

We deserve better You deserve better. Stop falling for the lies and hate. We beg you

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

New to town

Prologue | Part 1

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary- the darkest days of your life could lead to something new. Prologue for a series

Warnings- death, breakups, plane crashes, lonely reader

A/n - hii!!! :3 I'm so srry for not writing anything in like 4 months I swear I'm gonna get back into the habit of it as soon as <33

You always hated being new. Since your were a little kid your parents would move up and down the country at least twice a year which in turn caused you to never have any kind of concrete friendships and to eventually stop trying to make them. When you'd turned eighteen and moved out and were sure you'd stay where you'd picked to be forever.

City living however didn't agree with you one bit. The tiny flat, that could barely fit a fanily if mice, you resided in, cost about an arm a month despite the electrics barely working and the terrible drafts keeping you cold all night. When you'd arrived you were sure you'd make it your own and decorate to make it look less depressing but you mever had the time. You were sure you'd adjust to the noisy neighbours next door and whatever your upstairs neighbours were doing at four in the morning. That hope and optimism for the bleak city had since left and now you lay in the cramped flat at night trying to get comfy on your cheap second hand mattress which creaked awfully whenever you moved as you tried to drown out next doors noise.

Outside tour flat was no better either. You'd struggled to make a single meaningful connection since being here and now some people could say it was the fact you didn't really know how to keep things going in relationships since you'd never had to have a friend longer than six months but you wanted to believe it was the people in the city. Yeah, that sounds better, people from the city were just that bit less extroverted and already had their own groups.

The meaningless office job you worked only made things worse. 45 hours a week slogging away for a meager paycheck and little recognition for any of your time. You'd been there a handful of years since moving into the city and still coworkers regularly got your name wrong or forgot about you completely. Your boss clearly didn't like you, not that he had it out for you by any means but you always had an unfair workload compared to others at the company.

At night you'd lie awake listening to the sounds of the city wondering how many more months you could make it in this bleak existence before an improvement came. How much longer could you hang onto the wagon of life. You weren't much of a betting man but if you were you would of said you'd only make it couple of months.

That's when things took a much worse turn.

The next week your boyfriend of eight months broke up with you over text. You'd known things were over for a while since he'd stopped coming over so much and being going around town with this other girl you'd never cared for. Infact you were more upset about the loss of a warm body, the comfort and stability of a relationship than you were losing him. He wasn't a bad man just.. immature, shown clearly by his breakup message he couldn't even be bothered to call or try to be grammatically correct in his small message. He'd never treated you bad but he wasn't great either, he'd cancel dates to go out with friends, spend the night at yours when there was sports on just because he knew you had the TV channels. You could do better than him. You knew that.

Still, you were desperate to persevere throught these tough times. Yeah it looked poor now but good things were sure to happen when you least expect it... or not.

A few weeks after your breakup as you lay across the old leather couch that took up most the living room space in your apartment. As you meagerly picked at your dinner. That was when it happened.

Your phone ringing suddenly was confusing enough, you hardly had any contacts other than your parents and well they were on a flight to Barbados so definitely couldn't be ringing at this hour. You check the phone and the illuminating letters read out no caller id. Assuming it could be important you decided to answer it, slowly putting the phone to your ear.

"Hello?.."

"Is this y/n/l/n?" A middle aged woman asks, her voice sounded glum and her signal not so good.

"Yeah. Yes, yeah it is. Why?" You responded with a string of awkward yeses mentally facepalming yourself for the stupid response.

"I'm speaking on behalf of United Airlines and we regret to inform you but your parents plane has crashed. They.. they..." Her voice faltered slightly or perhaps the signal cut but you knew what was coming as you felt you could throw up at any moment. A cold sweat plaguing you. "They didn't survive. Sorry." There it was; the news that would change your life. Both of them gone in one swoop. Even if you hadn't been talking so much with your family since your big move you certainly weren't ready for something as catastrophic as this to happen.

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

Hi! Can I request a Mitsuya Takashi angst where Mitsuya likes yn but reader is too dense or already in love with someone else?

Thanks!

No Chance {Mitsuya Takashi}

A/n: I need to find a final layout for my posts ugh. Anyways, thank you for requesting, I hope you like it.

Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x gn!reader

Trigger Warnings: none

Falling in love at first sight wasn't really something that had happened to Mitsuya before. All of his previous crushes, from his early school years, all the way to his second year in university when he met you, were something that had been developed over time.

When he met you, leaning over your books in the library, Mitsuya knew. He took his sketching notebook out and sat down next to you. He tried his best to spark a conversation and when he finally did, he was the happiest he had ever been.

You were everything he was looking for: fun, beautiful, talkative, polite, kind... everything. And you were so interesting with such interesting views, he could sit there and talk to you for hours and not get bored. You even complimented his tattoo which was slightly peaking out of his hoodie.

Naturally, he asked for your number and one thing brought another and you stayed up till the morning texting each other. You would constantly go out for coffee, you would take him with you whenever you went to the shops and he loved it because there was nothing better than clothes for him and being with you while he voiced his opinion on that dress you liked? It felt amazing.

Surreal.

Because it quickly turned out that it was a little too good to be true.

It wasn't until one day that you went out with him and Yuzuha that she tried to play matchmaker by asking you if you had a crush. Mitsuya's heart broke when he heard the economic's major heartthrob's name leaving your mouth.

At first, denial kicked in. He had watched Yuzuha lying to her crush a million times by mentioning another guy's name just so she can make him jealous and it always worked. But the way your eyes lit up and the shy tone in your voice once you started talking about them was way different from the tone Yuzuha would use.

He tried to play it cool because hey! How many times had he told his sisters stories about people who thought they were in love with someone and then realised that they actually loved their childhood friend? Mitsuya wasn't your childhood friend but... he was sure that the story could apply to him as well.

Therefore, he continued trying to win you over with subtle yet meaningful acts. It pained him to see you looking over at your crush whenever you would see them around the campus but Mitsuya had a huge advantage: you and your crush had never talked and as mean as it sounded in his mind, you would never talk because they were famous and you were normal.

Six months later, Mitsuya felt finally ready. There had been a few signs that could be taken as positive omens and Mitsuya had thought everything out. He would meet you at the university's cafeteria, hand you over the shirt he had spent days making just for you and he would confess.

Needless to say whatever was left from his heart from the first time he realised he wasn't the one in your heart, broke once more when he saw you and your crush talking.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Best Gift He Can Give." Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Reader.

Okay, so the amazing and fantastic @mrsaltieri-real had a birthday a while ago, and I wrote this as a gift. I edited it to make it reader insert friendly and now I am sharing it with all of you! I hope you all enjoy it.

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.4K. Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Your Boyfriend David Fucking Sucks. Your Boyfriend Cheats On You. Apologies To Dudes Named David Who Don't Suck. Stalking. Breaking And Entering. Murder. Blood. Gore. Violence. Making Out. Grinding. Vaginal Fingering. Eating Out. Eating Ass. Hair Pulling. Spanking. Praise. Degredation. Rimming. Vaginal Sex. Cream Pie. Confessions Of Feelings.

---

There are people in this world who do not deserve anything. They don’t deserve kindness, or understanding, they don’t deserve friends, they don’t even deserve to breathe. One such asshole was your boyfriend, David. You don’t even know why he is your boyfriend, honestly you’ve had friends ask, and you are never sure much what to say. He treats you terribly, he is mean to you, rude, constantly picks fights, and it isn’t like you can say, “Well at least the sex is good-”

Because it is very much not. You’d been together for four years, and it had never been good.

Mickey didn’t know about that, though. All he knew to start is that you were cute, and he liked how you looked, the rest started to become revealed to him through watching you over time. He remembers the first afternoon he started to pick up on that very clearly. He was in the library, one table over, trying to do some actual work, sure he wasn’t paying for his degree, but he couldn’t exactly flunk out either, and he overheard an interaction, “Do you have to turn your pages so loud?”

Your head snaps up, looking over to him, Mickey’s own eyes flick up, but his head doesn’t raise, brows furrow in question mirroring yours as you ask, “Excuse me?”

“You are turning the pages of your book really loudly-” He drew out your name, focused on it, and that made your expression turn from somewhat annoyed confusion to outright disgust, a roll of your eyes. “Fuck off David.” 

His tone made Mickey’s skin crawl, “Sooo mature, this is a library, can’t you keep it down and show some class?” 

Mickey had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping, who the fuck was this guy, and why was he so comfortable talking to you like that? He thought boyfriends were supposed to be fucking nice to their girlfriends, and here he was treating you like he hated you, as if you were shit on the bottom of his shoe.

That was not the only time he saw you being treated so shamefully by David, either. Seems whenever he overheard, walked by, you were being talked down to by him or already mid-fight. 

Worse still he would complain about what you wore deriding any skin you wanted to show, and what you were into, he’d overheard him belittling your love of movies too. “How the fuck can you do that shit?”

“Do what shit, David?” You sighed, and he asked, “What the same fucking movies over and over, don’t you ever get bored?”

Your reply comes out almost bored, edging on annoyed, “Those same movies over and over are definitely more interesting than talking to you so-” 

“Woooow, is that any way to talk to me?” He’d ask, and Mickey would think to himself that you should treat him a Hell of a lot worse for how he acts.

You and Mickey had been friends in secret for a while, it had been a very quiet affair, mostly because David would be threatened and jealous, something that bugged Mickey, but he was just glad for the time spent with you and to get to know you. Small moments carved out whenever that prick wasn’t around became absurdly meaningful. 

One day he found you alone on a park bench on campus and seemingly very upset, he couldn’t leave you like that, your boyfriend isn’t around and so he comes forward until he is close enough to ask, “Hey uh, you good?”

Head raises, and you sniff, hands rushing to wipe at your nose and mouth, you nod shakily, mouth dry as you say, “Yeah, totally, so, so good.” 

He lets himself smile this kind of sad smile as he sits down beside you, humming out, “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Leave it alone.” You sigh, and he presses, “No way, there has to be a reason you’re this upset and I wanna know.” 

You slump back further into the bench, averting your gaze as you confess, “You caught me, M’ not good at all. I just found out that my boyfriend fucking cheated on me.” 

Immediate anger flares as does genuine concern for you, both emotions taking hold makes his eyebrows raise and his hand reach out to touch your elbow, your attention snaps back to him. Your eyes meet, and he says, “You can talk to me.”

“What is there to talk about?” It’s said very quietly, and his grip on you tightens by a fraction as he encourages, “Plenty. It isn’t healthy to keep this shit bottled up, what he did was fucked, talk to me about it.” 

You haven’t opened up in such a long time but right now, something in his eyes beckons you and the urge overtakes, you feel safe and think, maybe you should open up. Your stomach is churning, and you think, what harm could it do? You start to tell him, a verbal torrent that once it began it was impossible to stop, as you vent about David and the series of horrible things he had put you through in your relationship. He listens, and only when you stop for breath does he say, “You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you could do so much better than an asshole like him.”

A small shrug as you brush him off, “It’s easier to stay in this relationship because it’s all I’ve ever known. Even if I broke things off with him, he’d never really let me go.”

“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you go?” His question isn’t entirely unexpected, but you still struggle for a moment to respond, “I dunno, I just…I know he would put up a massive fight, and I couldn’t ever just make a clean break. He wouldn’t let that happen.” 

He licks his lips tentatively, an almost nervous action, “He…He doesn’t own you. Hon, you know that, right?”

You looked over at Mickey and said quietly, unconvincingly, “I know that.” 

He wasn’t sold. He hated the look in your eyes right now. Not only that, but he tried to break the tension and asked, “Is the sex that good or-?”

You laughed, head tipping back, genuine smile crossing your face, you shake your head as you catch your breath and tell him, “God no, it’s terrible! So vanilla, nothing but missionary, he never even eats me out.” You exhale and expound further, “He expects me to blow him too.” 

“Fuck off no way.” His reaction pulled another laugh out of you, and he insists, “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” You sighed. He speaks with conviction, anger but not at you, never at you, more frustration at your situation and how you seemingly have just accepted it. “Why the fuck do you put up with this asshole? Seems like you are doing all the giving with no take.” 

A shrug as you tell him, refusing to look at him any longer, “I’ve grown used to it, it’s been just so long of the same thing, you know?” 

That was fucking bullshit. Sunk cost fallacy much? Clearly you were never going to get out from under this jerk’s thumb on your own, so he was going to do something about this. It would take some work, but you were more than worth it. He started to stalk him, determined to get real dirt on him, he learns his routine and becomes far too acquainted with even the most basic and mundane things about your boyfriend. 

It doesn’t take him long, around a month in is when Mickey catches David in the act of cheating, he was fucking some girl from his film class. 

It was infuriating! Here he has you, a total fucking catch, and he doesn’t appreciate you, mistreats you, and cheats on you on top of all that. What a complete piece of fucking trash. 

He has every intention of telling you when he has the adequate proof-

Wait.

What if he tells you and you still stay? You seemed so downtrodden, what if not even this is enough to convince you to leave? Fuck, that would be terrible, but he couldn’t let that hold him back. 

He just needed to stay on task, stay focused, and this could work out. He clung closer, tried to be around you more and provide more support, but that, as it turns out, only made it harder. Having to be confronted so frequently with the damage he was doing to you, how sad you were, it made him hurt in kind. He really fucking cared about you.

On top of all of this, his presence is apparently putting more pressure on your relationship. He comes across you and David having a loud and public altercation a few days later, as he gets closer he realizes it is about him. 

“You can’t tell me what to do!” You insist, and David bites back, “Oh, can’t I?”

“No! You can’t! What is the problem anyway?” You try to implore, and he isn’t having it, “I don’t like him! No, scratch that, I fucking hate him. You shouldn’t be talking to any guy, I don’t want you to even look in his direction-”

“You are so ridiculous-” 

He can’t stay. He can’t listen to this. Furthermore, he can’t stand idly by any longer. He is going to do something about this. 

Breaking into David’s place was easy, taking his time is what was difficult. He eases into his bedroom, costume on, knife already in his hand, and comes up to the bed. You were back at your own place, far away and hopefully peacefully sleeping, blissfully unaware of just what he was about to do for you, of the devotion he has and was about to display. 

He wanted to spit in the fucker’s face for what he did to you, more than that he wanted to main and mutilate him, wanted to inflict as much physical pain onto him as he inflicted mental pain onto you. He reached down, he ripped the blanket back, and with one smooth motion he stabbed the sharp blade into David’s stomach. 

The reaction was immediate, his eyes snapping open, mouth open in a soundless scream as it seems all the air leaves him, hands flying to his stomach trying to clutch at the blade but stopping short, afraid to touch the intrusion. He ripped the knife out and then stabbed it back in, immediately. He twists, David inhaled as much as he could but then breathed out, hiccuping on the air, it becomes a complete bloodbath. Mickey cuts, he stabs, he hurts him as he can’t hold back, and David chokes out, “Why?”

Mickey laughs, this cold and calculating kind of laugh before he takes the mask off, and then he starts to talk, “You are a pathetic excuse for a man, a worthless piece of trash-” 

The knife is ripped out and brought back down harder than before, the steel scrapes bone, and he sobs, “-you don’t deserve someone like her, you know that, right? You’ve been mistreating her for way too long.”

The metal wrenched free and then drove deeply inward again, the next sound of pain is a short gasp, Mickey tells him further, “That is why I am doing this, I am going to step in and take over.” 

David looked so pitiful, tears down his cheek, bloodstained and movements slowing, weakening. Mickey leaned down and told him lowly,“I’m going to make her feel so, SO much better than you ever did.” 

He is unrecognizable. Organs are laying all around him, cuts on his face making it, so his identity is basically gone, partially skinned in places. He wished he could have taken the time to skin him alive, fillet him like a fucking fish, but even that would be too good for him. He is sure that he has drained him of about half of his blood, the mattress is soaked, heavy and thick, there is a squelching sound when Mickey gets off the bed. The blood has soaked through the robe, it is staining his shirt and jeans he is positive of it, the handle of the knife is slick, he can feel coagulated blood that has gathered between his fingers, the clots are slippery and almost black.

There is one place he wants to be and it’s with you.

He goes to your place. 

It is obscenely late when you open the door, you are in your pyjamas, you look fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Mickey?” You rub over your eyes, suppressing a yawn, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

He pushes past you, comes inside as he starts to talk, “I had to come see you, I just did something amazing tonight-”

You close the door, he is talking quickly, a mile a minute, excited, manic. “I was thinking about what told me about David and I just got so fucking inspired, you know? So I decided I just had to do it, so I did but, darling, you need to tell me, what else didn’t he do for you?”

“What he didn’t do?” You repeat, softer, confused, and he nods, brows raised and eyes alight, mischievous, “Yes, tell me all the things he doesn’t do for you.”

It is then that you take him in awake enough to register, and notice what he is wearing. A black robe, almost plastered to his body, your eyes flit downwards, and you see that it’s shiny in a particular way that tattles on it being wet, but wet with what? Eyes catch red droplets on the ground coming off of the frayed edged of the black fabric, your gaze shoots back up. You smell the iron, and you see the small flecks of red on his face, and so the question tumbles out, “What is with the robe and is that fucking blood?”

This half smile on his face and a cock of his head as he tells you as if it couldn’t be more obvious, “I just killed David. For you sweetheart.”

You don’t feel angry or upset, to your complete surprise, you feel an insane and immense sense of relief that David is gone. You no longer have to put up with him. 

A sharp inhale as the feeling sinks in, you let it wash over you, not fighting it, letting it soak into your bones. Another question spills out as you ask, “What did you do to him?”

His grin is so wide you worry it hurts his face. 

“I snuck into his apartment, broke in with no issue, I crept into his bedroom and I stabbed a knife-” He brought one foot up, boot rested on the chair at your desk, hauling up the robe, careful not to get blood on more than he had already his hand grasps the hand of the knife. He unsheathes it from the holster that was strapped to his leg, his foot comes back down, he is holding the knife up, you can see the dried blood all over the blade and his hand, he continues to expound, “-this knife, into his stomach.”

He mimics the motion, smile still pulling his features tight, “He gasped and struggled, it was pathetic. I ran him through over and over, the sound was wet, the blood gushed.” 

A sigh crosses his lips, he is looking down at the blade, turning it over in his hands. You, too, are fixated on the glinting metal as it moves from one hand to the next. He keeps talking. “You’d think sound would be a concern. That he’d be screaming his fucking head off, right?”

You look up, he is staring at your face, expectant, you respond to the question, a shaky nod. He continues on, a point of his knife, “Wrong. When you stab someone right, it sucks all the air out of their lungs.” The images his is giving fills your head, of David lying there, bleeding and as Mickey put it, pathetic. He is still expounding. “I was relentless, kept stabbing him, he had no chance to catch his breath. You can’t scream if you can’t breathe.”

You listen enthralled as he describes how he cut flesh from bone, how chunks fell away, digging fingers into open wounds, manually separating cartilage and skin and muscle apart just because he could. He speaks of how much blood he drained and by the end of it you were breathing much harder as was he. Almost no space between the pair of you.

He is looking in your eyes, and he speaks, “I ask again, what did he never do for you?” 

You can’t help it, inquiring, “Why do you want to know so bad?” 

“Because sweetheart-” He sets the knife down on your desk, his hand reaches out to take yours, tacky with partially dried crimson, and he says, “-baby, darling, I want to make you feel all the things you’ve missed out on the past few years.” 

You are as explicit in describing what you’d been missing as he was when describing the violence he did to David. 

“He never made me cum with his mouth, his dick, not even his fingers. I haven’t felt a hot tongue on my clit in fucking years.” You start, a deep inhale before you force it out, speak in hushed tones, “He only ever fucked me in missionary, he never put a hand on my throat and choked me, never pulled my hair, he never praised me, fuck, Mick, he never even degraded me.”

You sigh now, “Never spanked me, never ate my ass, God do I want someone to eat my ass and above all else, he never overstimulated me-”

He cut you off. His mouth crashing into yours after far too long, he kisses you deeply, and you fall into it, into him. A moan into his mouth, hands reach out, fingers tangle in the sleeves, they feel damp, you flex your fingers, you squeeze, beads of blood squeeze through your fingers. Your tongue runs over his bottom lip, and you revel in the taste of him. Christ it was never like this with David, a simple kiss with Mickey was serving to do you in, the graze of his lips against yours, of his tongue brushing yours was sending sparks throughout you. 

Feet stumble back, you pull him with you, keep him near, unwilling to break the connection you’ve made and yet you do, a quiet mumbling of, “Get this fucking robe off-”, pulling on his sleeves for further emphasis. The contact is broken for him to listen and obey, he pulls the robe off and drops it onto the floor, the blood has soaked through to his t-shirt he was wearing, and again you are confronted with what he did. He killed David for you, the evidence of his care for you, of his total devotion is splattered all over him, plastering his shirt to him, soaked into thin fabric. 

This time, you are pulling him back to you, greedy and needy as you do so. Mouths meet again as you are moving backward, the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, and you let yourself fall, tugging him down with you. 

His leg slots between yours as his lips descend on yours again, you sink further into the mattress as he, in turn, sinks into you, melting into the contact, his leg presses closer, knee is tighter to you and that makes you inhale sharply. That sets something off in him. 

One of his hands moves, threads in your hair, and he tugs, it forcefully breaks the kiss and pulls a moan from you at the delicious rush of pain. His mouth moves, presses over your jaw, down your throat, and he makes your hips move on their own, grinding against him, desperate for more already. A squirm of your hips as you drag your clothed slit against his solid thigh, and the wash of pleasure makes you have to suppress a shudder, a whining moan held back as well as you bite your bottom lip. 

He notices immediately, pulling back from your neck, another tug of your hair, and he makes you look at him, “None of that shit, I don’t fucking care how late it is, I don’t care if every son of a bitch on this entire floor files a noise complaint, I want to hear you, no holding back.”

You are stunned, speechless, your hips shift, and you are drenched, underwear plastered to you and one of his hands locks onto your throat, he squeezes and says, “I’m not hearing you say yes.” 

You just cannot believe everything you’ve ever wanted has fallen into your lap, you choke out, “Yes, yes, please, fucking yes-”

He shuts you up with another kiss and that is how things seriously escalate, both of you rushing to undress each other. You hadn’t been wearing much to sleep, the tank top and shorts were removed, his shirt and shoes are off now, and he stops. You are looking up at him, admiring him the same way he is you, even with almost all his clothing removed there is still the mark of the crime he committed, blood left on his torso after leaking through his shirt, splatters on his arms, the small flecks on his face. He is looking at you like you are a full meal with nothing more in his way than damp lace, “Fucking Christ-”

He sighs, his fingers trace the curve of your breast before he fully takes it in his hand, he looks helpless in regard to what he wants to do, he follows the impulse, he leans down, and his mouth latches onto one of your nipples. His tongue circles and you sigh, arching up into him. 

His teeth graze as one of his hands slips between your thighs, he only gets one pass of his fingers over the wet material before he decides that isn’t good enough. Fingers hook in the thin garment, and he pulls, he hopes you didn’t give a shit about them because he cannot be bothered to remove them properly, he pulls until it rips and throws it aside. No chance of you complaining because his fingers are on you, strong digits press to you bare for the first time. 

Your eyes roll back with a soft, “Oh my fucking God-” which Mickey absolutely eats up as he starts to move, fingers trace slowly, dipping low, catching some mess and dragging it up, using it as lube to rub your clit. 

The increase in pleasure was immediate, your body slowly starts to tense as the feeling digs into your bones, you fully give in to what he is doing to you. 

“Do you know how much I’ve poured over this?” He asks, and you say quietly, “No.” 

“So many nights.” He confesses, his fingers pick up the pace, tight circles rubbed, and he tells you more, “I’d think about this, about having you under me, about doing-” Two fingers ease inside of you, and he moans like it’s his pleasure, breathing out, “-this.” 

“You feel better than I ever thought you could, so fucking wet, so soft.” He groans, and you arch closer, his palm presses nearer, he moves and works with you, fingers curling into that sweet spot and hand grinding over your clit. You listen, and you feel, minutes later, very quickly between his hushed words and expert touch you are shivering and telling him, “M’ close Mickey-” 

“Fuck yes, do it.” The firm command makes it impossible to stop, you tip over and cum. It feels phenomenal, it’s been ages since anyone has done this, showed this level of care and investment in your enjoyment. He doesn’t relent, keeps his pace steady and consistent, and draws out every bit of feeling he can from your high. 

He doesn’t let you rest, your body sinks back into the mattress, you are panting, and he slides his fingers out of you and right into his mouth. Not only that, but he tastes you for the first time and moans from the salt and tang of you coating his tongue. 

“You taste better than anything I’ve ever put in my mouth.” He slips down your body, drags of his lips lighting further fire in you until he settles between your thighs, his mouth latches onto your still very sensitive clit and your thighs clamp around his head immediately. Your hand shoots down, fingers in his stupidly attractive hair, and you moan loudly, just as he wants you to. 

He was ravenously hungry but still taking his time with this, he forces himself to slow down just a touch, he knows you haven’t had this in years thanks to that douchebag of an ex-boyfriend. He laps at your leaking slit, from hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, he swirls his tongue around the boarders once, twice, three times before passing over it again, making you gasp out his name. 

Mickey luxuriates in the act and does his best to ensure that you do as well, sucks with purpose and is quickly rocketing you to another orgasm, you can barely string together a sentence to warn him of that, but he knows, fingers twist further in his hair, and you pull with a cry of his name, in another two short minutes you are cumming again, it’s stronger than the first, you are louder than you were last time, but he continues. He doesn’t stop on your come down, he just slows, goes lighter, his licks are running up the length of you, between your lips and on top of your twitching bud, over and over, methodical, and you can’t stop shaking. 

Somehow through the haze of pleasure you manage to speak, calling out to him, “Mi-Mickey, oh my fucking God-”

He lifts his mouth, you expect him to give you a breather or to give some pithy response that will turn you on further and make you leak more, but instead his hands are on your hips, he tilts them up and his tongue dives lower. His tongue circles over your asshole, and you actually sob, shocked and broken from the sudden stab of ecstasy that hits your gut, your hand leaving his hair, instead gripping at the sheets. You can’t stop from squirming, which makes his job harder, you hear something that sounds akin to a mildly annoyed growl. 

One of his hands lifts off your hip, and he lands a firm smack on your ass as he grits out, “Stop squirming so much babe, let me make you feel good.” 

He gets back to it and your head is thrown back against the pillows, you try, you really do, but his tongue flicks just so and your body bucks. He instead flips you over onto your stomach roughly manhandling you, one hand pulling your hips up, and he dives back in tongue first. He eats your ass with passionate fervour, whenever you buck too much he reminds you to behave with another hit to your ass cheek. His hand that wasn’t on your hip slides under, and he circles your clit with fast and clever fingers. 

The sharp slaps of pain and combined with him being tongue deep in your ass and rubbing your clit makes you cum embarrassingly fast yet again and harder still, legs trembling so much you almost fall on your face, with an ample gush onto his chin while sobbing his name into the pillow.  

When you stopped shaking he came up, another smack to your ass, his chest to your back as he leans down and praises right in your ear, “Oh good fucking girl.”

You start to babble out into the damp pillowcase, “Mi-Mickey, ‘lease, fuck me, need you-”

He hums, and you hear his belt open, finally getting his pants open, he inhales sharply in relief, the pressure easing from him opening his pants. The rest of his clothes are discarded, and he pauses. His hand on your sore ass, right on the spot he kept hitting over and over, his thumb traces down, spreading your lips, over your hole, and he sighs, “I have been dying to get inside this cunt.”

He lines up, he pushes his hips forward and sinks deep inside you, in one swift and smooth motion. The moan you share is like music, beautiful, melodic, passionate collaboration. His hand goes into your hair, he fucks you like that, face down ass up, he starts a quick pace initially, rough, needy and you love it. His body is covering yours as he breathes into your ear, “You feel incredible, oh my God-” His head tips back with a loud moan, he drives into you over and over, “-fucking stunning too, you are so gorgeous.” 

It has been entirely too long since you’ve been fucked in any position other than missionary. The sensation, his weight on your back, the sound of skin on skin, his breath in your ear, it’s fucking perfection. You rock back with him, meet him in the middle, you were giving back, showing just how desperately you want him in kind makes Mickey let out this sound, caught between a groan and something more possessive, not explicitly words, but it hits you low in your gut. 

He starts to slow down, takes a little more time, and you are moaning louder and louder, you are so worked up, so sensitive, you feel alive and electric. On one level it feels like you can feel every ridge and vein of him and on another like you can’t determine up from down, completely drunk on feeling. 

You completely lose track of how many times you get off that night, the pace will switch on a whim, from hard pounding and him calling you every name in the book to more easy and sensual, a writhing joint movement instead of an aggressive pounding. 

You ride him, grind one out on top of him while he cradles your breasts, thumbs passing over your nipples as he calls you a beautiful fucked out angel. 

He fucks you spooning, hand around you and between your thighs, strumming your clit with one hand, the other locked on your throat as he is fucking in and out.

The only thing that seems to make it stop is you literally sobbing for it to. Your cheeks are wet, you are babbling his name and the word stop, you have one leg over his shoulder and the other is pinned down near your knee by him. His stamina was impressive, he’d already cum once when you were riding him, had filled you up, but instead of that stopping it, he just flipped you over, still hard, and kept fucking going, his own cum providing even more lube.

That was a while ago, you could tell that he was near again, sweat down the side of his face, movements of his hips sloppy, panting your name over and over. You know you can’t again, you are too fried, too overstimulated and finally, just as the soreness is starting to teeter on the other side of being more unpleasant and painful than pleasurable he holds deep and cums again. 

You feel totally boneless, your arms feel heavy as you wrap them around him loosely, his head dips down and rests on your shoulder, you are just trying to catch your breath.

He gets his back faster than you. 

He is still inside of you when he comes back up, fingers push some of your hair aside as he looks down into your eyes. Your chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he confesses, for what must be the third time tonight, telling you, “I fucking care about you.”

A strong belief that is nothing but the truth hits, “You deserve way better than him, I wish I could have met you sooner so you could have had those years back of someone who actually gives a shit about you instead of that asshole.” 

You want this, want him, damned what that says about you or your morals, you don’t care as you tell him, “Fuck that selfish cunt, forget about him, let’s just make up for lost time.” 

He has every intention of doing just that.