#The dilemma comes from a) can they do anything about it or would this just be needless suffering

[vivianblue]

Doesn't the existence of bell hooks along with her compassionate and phenomenal works literally disputes the whole idea that "The Left hates men" though?

bell hooks IS part of The Left, and correct me if I'm wrong but her central thesis in "The Will to Change" and "All About Love" isn't to point out how it's failure on leftists for not coddling men enough, but to point out how the patriarchy hurts men as well. The people who should read bell hooks are not mean leftists, but precisely MEN who feels they can and should deserve better than what this system of oppression has to offer them, and open up their perspective beyond the false dichotomy of "Accept Calvinism & Eternal Punitive Justice from The Oppressed" OR "Be The Oppressor & Enjoy Your Privileges (you earn this by being more Superior than other people)".

Men being drawn to the alt-right pipeline is not due to mean women and leftists. It's because like,... it's good to be a man under the patriarchy, because it benefits men at the expense of other people. This is just basic sociological analysis backed by historical facts that we should agree on. However, in some situations even by stating: "privileges exist and a lot are unearned/built on oppressing other groups", you would already be inviting a lot of hostility, because acknowledging this issue for a lot of people is Emotionally Challenging (and I'm saying that with no attached judgement).

We can examine a similar emotional response to see why this would be challenging - White Fragility. According to Ford, Green & Gross (2022), the psychological process underpinned it goes like this:

1. Generally, people want to be viewed as a Good Person.

2. Acknowledging systemic issues and how integral one's role as the "oppressor" in those issues can feel incongruent to the goal of wanting to be a Good Person (and might lead to guilt or shame).

3. This feeling can worsen when the person feels like they don't have the resources necessary to tackle a particular situation without coming off as a racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. (aka what many people would internalize as a Bad Person).

Many men could start out wanting to do good, but then find out that "doing good" requires more than just extending niceness on an individual basis. It's also about working on yourself and learning more about the world and other people's experiences and actively preventing harms, because anyone has the potential to do harm and the damage caused is in correlation to how much power you have over others. Everyone is capable of being racist/sexist/transphobic/etc. in a society where those actions are so normalized. Doesn't mean everyone is Inherently a Bad Person, but it does mean there are a LOT of choices to navigate and you will make mistakes, and people are going to be understandably cautious around you if you haven't worked on yourself enough since again - you can harm them. It is unjust to force people to love you, especially at the threat of you becoming a violent raging Nazi.

The dilemma of "Why should I help the people I've harmed when I get nothing but feeling of shame in return" are common human issues, and it's not entirely unique to cishet white men. The alt-right denies the questions entirely by saying that "No men, YOU have never done anything wrong. If anything it's those minorities and women who are harming you, and you're in the right for wanting to punish them back." Why takes responsibility when it turns out, you're the Good, Rational and Superior Guy all along?

The real answer is quite direct and Literally lies in bell hooks' writings, specifically "All About Love", and is only made difficult and obscure by the relentless effort to paint feminists and leftists as this homogeneous, hateful group who want to antagonize men. It's not about the unconditional love that women and The Left MUST have for men as a Reward for existing and being such a Good Boy. It's about the Love men should have for themselves and the world. Why must you do good by yourself, by women, by your fellow men, by your sons or daughters or neighbors or community? If you love someone, you want the best for them. The best for who and what you love would be for you do good actions and make good decisions that benefit everyone, and yourself. Love is not earned, it's something you do.

“The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women. Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves. If an individual is not successful in emotionally crippling himself, he can count on patriarchal men to enact rituals of power that will assault his self-esteem.”

At the end of the day, women and leftists aren't the problem. It's the lack of resources re: point (3) and again, not due to leftists not providing them, but due to the patriarchy and people having an interest in not seeking them out or censoring them (e.g. the attack on critical race theory in uni).

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[virginiaistyping]

"I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you."

inspired by Chappell Roan

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bakugo x f. reader

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warnings: mentions of having a family

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As you laid in your bed, you thought about Katsuki. For days, you had fallen asleep to ideas that you knew would never come true. You thought about an older him coming home from a long day of work, sitting at the edge of your bed, grumbling about how his muscles ached. Or maybe when you’d come home after getting your hair done and you’d be greeted by a mini Katsuki at the door, ready to show you a new drawing that he had made while you were gone. And you’d walk into the kitchen to see Katsuki, hovering over the stove while making dinner. You’d walk over to him and he’d kiss you, and your toddler would break the moment with an “ewww!”, and you’d giggle into Katsuki’s chest. Or when you had a dream where he had taken you to the mall because you had been telling him about this new pair of shoes you wanted. After spending the day shopping, you’d somehow convinced him to take pictures at the nearby photobooth, and you loved the pictures even though he had glared at the camera in every single photo. 

And the next day you’d walk to your class and sit right next to Katsuki, pretending that he doesn’t live in your mind, you can’t escape him even in your dreams. He didn’t even know that you had lived an entire life with him in your head. You knew that you’d probably never kiss him or date him, let alone get married and have kids with him. Or maybe you were just in you head about all of this, one day this will all dissolve and you’d split paths, you’d watch him climb the charts as you worked hard underneath him, only seeing him sometimes during meetings or bumping into him while on patrol. 

Little did you know, Katsuki did think about you. He thought about you while you sat next to him. He thought about you while training. He thought about you as he laid in bed, unable to sleep. He thought about being able to run his fingers through your hair. He thought about being able to lay in bed with you, watching movies that he’d never remember the plot of because he was too busy looking at you. It made him mad. He’s never felt this way about someone before. For his entire life, he’s focused solely on what has been most important to him, hero work. Now, he has you, but he doesn’t at the same time.  Katsuki only has two solutions to his dilemma. He can get to know you, take you on a couple dates, and maybe even work out his feelings for you, or he could just completely ignore you at all costs and wait for his feelings to subside. 

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this is my first time writing literally anything ever. I hope you like it :)

[violent138]

Clark Kent faces about a hundred ethical dilemmas a day, but the one he'll never get used to is accidentally finding out that someone-- sometimes random strangers, sometimes his close friends-- has a serious health condition with x-ray vision, smell, or his hearing and having to figure if he should tell them, and how.

[starryjake]

teddy bear pajamas | l.h

in which heeseung is supposed to be sleeping over with his best friend, jay, but spends the night with jay’s younger sister instead.

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: throat fucking, fingering, making out, nipple play, spitting, cum swallowing. (lmk if i missed anything).

how you were supposed to fall asleep when your brother and his friends were screaming in the other room was beyond you. video games, of course. that was the culprit as to why they were screaming and you were about a minute away from walking into the living room and exploding.

how badly you wanted to go to them and yell at them to shut up.

instead, you chose the mature option. you took a deep breath and decided to yell at your brother over text instead.

you: if you guys don’t shut the fuck up

jay: do i need to remind you that i pay your rent

you sighed. he was right. you felt bad complaining when jay already did so much for you. not only did he pay your rent, but he cooked for you, lended you money when you needed it, and always let you have friends over without complaint.

you: nvm 😁

you turned your phone back off, laying on your side. you pressed a pillow over your ear in hopes to muffle the sounds of the boys yelling, and while it didn’t do much, you were able to fall asleep after a few minutes.

-

you managed to fall asleep for a good two hours before you were awoken again. you expected it to be the boys again, but the apartment you shared with your brother was silent.

suddenly, your phone buzzed. with squinted eyes, you grabbed your phone to check the notification.

it was heeseung, one of jay’s best friends. you knew all of jay’s friends. you practically grew up with them, and some of them you even considered to be your brothers as well.

heeseung: are you awake?

his text woke you up a bit more. you sat up in your bed, wracking your brain as to why he was texting you this late.

you: yeah, why?

heeseung: jay is snoring and i can’t sleep 😣

you: yeah sounds about right

you chuckled to yourself at his dilemma.

heeseung: yeah well i was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie?

heeseung: say yes 🙏

your heart raced. your first instinct was to answer yes in all capital letters, but luckily your brain reminded you how utterly pathetic that would be.

you did not want to mess up and embarrass yourself in front of heeseung.

you: it’s the middle of the night. you’re funny if you think i’m getting out of bed rn

heeseung: well we can watch smth in your bed

you gulped. just the mere idea of having heeseung next to you in your bed, watching a movie together excited you. you didn’t know why. it wasn’t like you liked heeseung or anything, but you always saw him as the coolest out of your brother’s friends. that was why you were always cautious about what you said in front of him and how you presented yourself. you wanted to impress him.

however, he would not be impressed if he were to walk into your bedroom right now and see you in your teddy bear matching set pajamas. he’d probably laugh.

you were already overthinking and you hadn’t even agreed yet.

you: ok fine

heeseung: be right there

now, you deemed, was an appropriate time for the panic to set in. you leapt out of bed and beelined for your closet, rummaging through all your clothes for a more appealing set of pajamas.

unfortunately, you’d underestimated how long it would take for heeseung to walk from jay’s room to yours, and suddenly there was a knock on your bedroom door.

you froze in the doorway of your closet, still wearing your teddy bear printed pajamas.

accepting defeat, you softly called out, “come in.”

the bedroom door opened and in walked heeseung. he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, his dark hair slightly tousled from sleep, or attempting to sleep. your knees buckled at the sight of him.

you’d always thought he was cool, and with that, you’d thought he was very attractive too. still, that didn’t mean you had feelings for him.

“hey,” he greeted in that soft voice of his. he quietly shut the door behind him. “cute pajamas.”

your cheeks flushed. you shut your closet door because it was too late to find a different pair of pajamas now.

“thanks,” you muttered.

you grabbed your laptop from off of your desk and trudged back into your bed. you tucked yourself back under the covers and watched heeseung, waiting for his next movement.

he walked over to your bed and climbed underneath the covers like he’d been sleeping there with you for the past year that you lived in the apartment. he scooted in close enough for your arms to be touching. he was so warm, it was hard for you not to lean into his touch.

“what do you wanna watch?” he asked.

“oh, i don’t care,” you said, opening your laptop.

you scrolled through the streaming platform for a bit before you both mutually agreed on a romantic comedy. you started playing the movie, resting the laptop on a pillow between your guys’ legs.

the movie started and it only took a few minutes for your eyelids to begin growing heavy. you would’ve dozed off had it not been the sudden movement from heeseung, who’s hand was suddenly very close to the side of your leg.

your eyes fluttered open. you kept your body very still, unsure whether he meant to put his hand so close or not. either way, you didn’t want to accidentally create an awkward situation.

20 minutes into the movie, heeseung’s hand was painfully slowly shifting it’s way onto your thigh. you were so exhausted you could barely comprehend it, but there was a small part of your brain freaking out, you just kept it all internalized.

“are you tired?” heeseung asked, speaking for the first time since the movie started.

“oh, i’m okay,” you lied.

“are you sure?” he wondered, genuine concern in his voice. “we can turn the movie off if you wanna go to sleep. i can go back to jay’s room.”

the last thing you wanted was for him to leave, especially with how heavy his hand was on your thigh and how it inched further up every minute.

“no, don’t go,” you said, too tired to realize how pathetic you sounded.

heeseung smiled at your words. he squeezed your thigh ever so slightly. your legs instinctively opened slightly, practically inviting him in.

“want me to stay?” he asked, his voice coming out in a whisper.

he was suddenly a lot closer than he was before, so close that you could feel his warm breath hit your face and his body heat radiate from him like a furnace.

you gulped, looking up into his eyes. you’d always loved his eyes, but never had the chance to see them up close like this.

for whatever reason, your half asleep mind told you it was okay to suddenly reach out and brush some of his hair out of his face, exposing more of his pretty face. he smiled at the bold movement from you. it was just the confirmation he needed that you were interested, and so he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

your eyes fluttered shut and your body shuddered with excitement. heeseung was kissing you. his one hand was gently holding your cheek while the other one stayed planted on your thigh, and he was kissing you.

you glided your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silky strands to express your pleasure. he moaned ever so softly in your mouth, inching his tongue into the mix.

you parted your lips further, leaving enough room for him to slide his tongue all the way in. you rubbed your tongue against his, your hips jutting off the bed in desperation. how embarrassing that you were already getting aroused just by the feeling of his tongue gliding against yours.

heeseung took notice of your desperation, which you were both humiliated and grateful for, as he slid his hand over your front, cupping your clothed pussy.

you clenched your eyes shut harder, whimpering into his mouth as he pushed his fingers against the fabric of your pants, sliding them delicately up and down the length of your pussy. you leaned your head back, disconnecting the kiss, and let out a needy moan.

“shh,” heeseung warned, planting a kiss to the side of your neck. “we don’t need your brother waking up and catching us, do we?”

you rapidly shook your head, sudden fear overcoming you at just the idea of jay catching you in your bed with heeseung. the idea scared you so much that your entire body froze and you stared at heeseung with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.

“it’s okay,” he cooed. “you can be quiet, can’t you? you’ll be a good girl if i tell you to be, right?”

you gulped. “but what if he—”

“he won’t,” heeseung assured. “you’re always so quiet when you talk, you can be quiet in bed too, yeah?”

you nodded, thinking how it might actually be worth it if jay were to catch you because at least you would’ve been able to say that you’d hooked up with heeseung, a dream of yours for a long time.

“good baby,” he cooed, leaning back in and enveloping your lips in his again.

you fell slack under his touch, sighing in utter contentment. heeseung used the tips of two of his fingers to rub tiny circles where your clit was over your pants. that alone would’ve been enough to make you cum had he done it long enough.

instead, he does it for about a minute before wanting to feel your pussy without any interference. he slid his large hand into your pants and you gasped as his knuckle brushed against your bare pussy. heeseung smirked into the kiss upon feeling how wet you were already.

he took his index finger and gathered all your slick, spreading it around your pussy. you pathetically humped up into his hand, needing more but unable to find the words to ask for it.

“you’re so cute,” he gushed, pressing his forehead against yours. he held close eye contact with you as he slid his middle finger into your fluttering hole, watching your reaction closely. “so warm and wet, baby. is this all for me?”

you whimpered, nodding. he massaged his finger against your walls, stretching you out before he added in his ring finger. the sound of your pussy being fucked open by his two fingers was lewd and humiliating, but it turned heeseung on more than you knew. you couldn’t tell how hard he was, how he was pulsating against his sweatpants.

his palm hit your sensitive clit every time he thrusted his fingers into you. you were already a mess from the sensations, tucking your head into the crook of his neck to hide your embarrassment.

heeseung could feel your legs vibrating. you were so sensitive, he loved it. he wanted to make a complete utter mess out of you, just to see what it looked like. he wanted to see his best friend’s normally composed, shy little sister fall apart beneath him.

so, he sped up his fingers and fucked them into you deeper until he was reaching the spongey part deep inside your pussy. when he found that, you yelped, and he knew it was only a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers.

when you did cum, your legs locked around his hand. you practically rode his fingers as your orgasm hit you, your fluids leaking down the side of his hand and seeping through your pajama pants.

“fuck,” he grunted just at the sight of you finishing, and how hot you looked.

you raised your head from his neck and looked up at him with glossy eyes and bright red cheeks. your hair was messy, your lips wet and swollen. heeseung could’ve came just by looking at you, you looked so good.

“oh my god,” he muttered. “c’mere, baby.”

his hand pressed against the back of your head, pushing your faces together. he kissed you again, although it was so messy that it could hardly be considered a kiss. he gathered some saliva in his mouth and pushed it into your lips without separating the kiss, and you drank all of what he gave you happily.

he pulled his hand out of your pants, exposing his hand which was covered in your release. he couldn’t decide whether to bring his fingers to his own lips or yours. he was desperate to know what you tasted like, but he also would’ve killed to see you with his fingers in your mouth, licking up your own arousal.

you took the initiative yourself, grabbing his wrist and stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you two moaned at the same time: you from tasting yourself on his fingers and him from seeing you with his fingers in your mouth. he would’ve never guessed you were this dirty, that his best friend’s little sister could be so lewd and needy.

you sat up on your knees once he’d pulled his fingers out of your mouth. finally, you were deciding to pay some attention to his cock, which was aching and he feared that he was so pent up, he might cum the moment you touch it.

luckily, that didn’t happen.

you palmed him over his sweatpants, grinning at how hard he was. you didn’t waste time teasing him over his sweatpants. instead, you knelt between his legs and tugged his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring out.

it was lengthy, which intimidated you as it stood straight up right in front of your face. intimidating as it was, you were hungry to taste him, to wrap your lips around his flushed tip and suck every last drop out of him.

heeseung dug his fingers into your hair and watched without allowing himself to blink as you licked his tip like it was a lollipop. you dug the tip of your tongue into his slit, gathering the bead of precum that had gathered there.

heeseung was sensitive. he always had been. he couldn’t help it when he jutted his hips up because it felt too good and he needed more. he needed to feel his cock constricted in the warm wet walls of your throat. he needed to be fucking your mouth like it was your pussy.

he gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail, slowly lifting his hips up and pushing his cock deeper into your cavernous mouth. you allowed him happily, hollowing your cheeks out for added friction.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he grunted, watching in utter fascination as you took his cock in your throat without so much as a gag.

you held onto his sides for leverage, but other than that you showed no sign of struggle. if anything, you only showed signs of enjoying this, of enjoying having his cock thrusting in your throat. you squeezed your legs together, resisting the urge to touch yourself or better yet, hump yourself against his leg.

his thrusts got faster and faster by the second when he saw how unbothered you were. soon enough, his cock was pistoning in your throat and you just took it, drool spilling out the corners of your lips.

heeseung paused his movements to pull your shirt over your head, exposing your chest to him. he reached down and tweaked your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, fucking up into your mouth again.

“oh my god,” he moaned. “you’re a dream. you’re amazing.”

all you could do was hum around him, unable to speak with your mouth occupied. you brought your hand up and fumbled with his heavy balls, massaging them in your palm.

heeseung threw his head back, suddenly holding your head with your nose pressed to his pelvis. his cock twitched once before you felt the first rope of cum hit the back of your throat, followed by many more streams of his sticky white substance.

he moaned loudly, certainly loud enough that jay and any of the other guys would be able to hear and understand what was going on behind your bedroom door. but now, you didn’t care. his moans sounded angelic and you knew it was a sound you wanted to hear again and again.

he didn’t release his grasp on you until he was completely finished dumping his load down your throat. your scalp tingled from the pain when he finally did let you go, allowing you to come up for air.

you swallowed all his release and took a deep breath, both of you calming down.

“holy fuck,” heeseung muttered in a complete daze.

you laid by his side, smiling to yourself. to be frank, you wanted more, but it seemed like heeseung was done. his eyes were closed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. you would’ve thought he’d fallen asleep had it not been for his next words.

“come here,” he whispered.

you laid your head on his chest, expecting to fall asleep and leave it at that.

until he said, “wanna keep going?”

-

read part 2 here!

[eelhound]

"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:

If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.

'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?

This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).

But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."

- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.

[trivia-yandere]

dilemma

being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63

word count: 4.063

warning: drug dealer yoongi, oral (m receiving), kissing, smut, praising, weed smoking, unprotected sex, dirty talking, cumshot,

valentine's day masterlist | part 2 (coming oct 14)

“Suga…” you murmur to the phone pressed to your ear. The sound of the shower is loud in the background as you wait for the water to turn hot. 

“Y/N.” the voice on the other side murmurs, voice deep and a little raspy. “You know you don’t have to call me that. I’ve known you for years now.”

You touch the water and hum. “I know. I like saying it, though.” you respond to the man on the other side. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you from anything. It is Valentine’s Day afterall.”

You hear a chuckle on the other side. “Nothing at all. I was just dozing off when you called.”

You lick your lips. You texted first, asking if he had your usual - nothing but an eighth of weed to hold you off. When he didn’t respond, you called.

You knew Yoongi way back from your High School years that then rolled into college and even now, as you worked at your big girl job. His product was good, affordable and he always threw deals for clientele such as yourself - loyal, as he calls them. There’s been times in which Yoongi would add extra to the bag he sold you just because.

“That’s sad. Figured a guy like you had someone to spend the day with him." The shower water is now hot. “I guess we’re both lonely on this holiday.”

You hear a grunt come from Yoongi. “I guess we are.” There’s silence for a moment from the both of you. “What do you suggest we do about that then?”

You lick your lips, your heart pumping at his sudden choice of words.

Another reason why you liked Yoongi - he always flirted back, no matter how subtle. You ponder if he was like this with all his clientele - but you understood that with you, he was. It never went past light flirting and lingering eyes, but it’s fun to engage with, nonetheless. 

“How about I drop off your usual and then we can smoke together?” Yoongi questions, a coolness in his voice. “I have a new strain you can try.”

“A new strain?” you open the shower door and get inside. The water hits your back and you lowly moan at the nice sensation of it. “That would be nice, Yoongi. How long do you think you’d be?”

“Not long. Are you in a rush?”

“No. I’m just showering.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment and you lick your lips in anticipation. 

“Getting pretty for our smoke session, I see. How nice.” there’s shuffling in the background as you laugh at his response. “I’ll be there in around 20.”

“See you.”

You scrubbed your skin furiously as if it was covered in the most dirt and grime ever. Your showers lasted longer than 10 minutes - especially when it was an everything shower. How you managed to do everything in 10 minutes was beyond you, but you managed. You still had to get out and make yourself look good without appearing as if you were trying too hard.

You tilt your head in the mirror, mind wandering. 

What if Yoongi was just a natural flirt? You were probably thinking far too into the flirtings - here you stood in front of a mirror pondering on what lingerie to wear for a man that sold you weed. Could you get any more pathetic than that?

Then again, what exactly did you have to lose?

You sigh. Your dignity was one - and so was good weed for the low if Yoongi decided to deny you.

“Fuck it.” you shrug away your nerves, deciding that even if Yoongi denied you, that wouldn’t stop you from at least attempting.

You knew Yoongi likes black - it’s all you ever truly see him in. You decided on a lacy black one you only ever wore once - for pictures - and covered it with a long t-shirt that stops at your thighs. 

Your phone sounds and you exhale a breath. You place the phone upon your ear and murmur a soft hello. “YN…” you feel the goosebumps of hearing your name come from Yoongi’s lips. “...I’m outside.”

“Coming.” you sing-song. 

It’s evening in February and that meant it was a bit chilly out, but you’d choose to ignore the piercing feeling of the cold breeze against your legs.

Yoongi’s car matched him, you thought. It was a black sedan with the darkest tint of windows you’ve ever seen. It stands out in the driveway of your way - your own car wasn’t as new as his nor was the surrounding ones belonging to your neighbors. 

The car is still on, but Yoongi assures that the lights aren’t. You got into his car swiftly, admiring how clean it was and how him it felt.

“You look nice.” Yoongi comments, flickering on the light.

“In a big ass t-shirt?” you snort, but even your heart is pounding from the compliment. If he thought you looked nice now, you wondered just how he’d like your lingerie.

Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah.” he nods. “You smell nice, too.”

You bite your lip, glancing at Yoongi's way. 

“This is a nice car.” you had to change the subject. Yoongi was such a smooth talker and everything he said had a tone of seriousness to it. It was hard not to be tongue tied around him. “You can’t get all your money just selling weed.”

Yoongi knits his brows. “Sounds like you’re fishing for information.” he murmurs. 

“Just an observation.”

Yoongi grasps a small rectangular box. He opens it, revealing pre-rolled blunts wrapped in paper. “You’re correct. It isn’t all I sell.” he says. “But, Y/N…ignorance is bliss.” Yoongi lights one of the blunts and hands it to you. “Ladies first.”

You gently grab the blunt, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s eyes watch you. You feel nervous underneath his intense stare, contemplating how you would make your move upon him.

Yoongi licks his lips, eyes trailing down to your exposed legs. They appeared soft and smooth and he wanted to test the theory, but he held himself back.

Yoongi blinks when your hand comes into his line of vision. Yoongi shakes his head. “You can keep that one. I’ll light another.” he says, opening the box once more and grabbing yet another blunt.

You giggle. “That seems excessive.” But you take Yoongi’s word for it and continue to smoke as Yoongi lights his own. “Isn’t there a rule for using your own supply?”

Yoongi chuckles, taking a drag of his blunt. “My supply would be fine, trust me.”

“I feel bad though.” you murmur, glancing out the window. It’s hard to see with the tint and you just thought that was perfect. “I made you come all the way here for nothing.”

Yoongi is intrigued. He watches as you slowly turn towards him, body facing his way now in the large seat. He wants to tear his eyes away from the way the oversized shirt rises up your thigh, but it takes him a whole ten seconds to do so - and yes, he did count. 

“How so?” Yoongi swallows, finally lifting his eyes to reach yours. He continues to smoke as he awaits your response. 

“I don’t have any money.” your blunt was smaller than his now as you take a few puffs before continuing. “I should have told you once I realized. You know, bills, rent and all.”

Your throat feels dry. Yoongi slowly nods his head before releasing a laugh. 

“That’s fine. You don’t have to pay me.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “You’ve been a loyal customer for years.”

Your eyes watch Yoongi inhale the smoke and exhale it through his nose. Your legs clench, finishing the blunt that has grown small.

“That would be taking advantage of you. I don’t want to do that.” you shake your head. 

“I consider you a friend of mine, Y/N.” You feel the jolt in your heart that tells you that your plan was going to fail. “You’re the only one that I would give such luxuries to.”

The jolt is back, but this time your plan was back in action. “Oh?” you ask, opening the window and flickering the small bud out of it. “I consider you a friend of mine, as well. But still…”

Yoongi blinks, tilting his head. 

“...I don’t just want to leave without offering you something.”

Yoongi’s unsure if he’s completely understanding what you’re speaking but he doesn’t have a moment to digest, either. You’re fast and swift, swinging your leg around and sitting completely onto his lap. Yoongi gasps when he feels you directly on him, the oversize shirt riding up your thighs once more.

There’s an open water bottle in the cup holder and Yoongi is quick to drop the rest of his blunt inside of it, not caring if he has wasted the rest entirely because you were in his lap. Yoongi is hesitant to touch you - he wants to feel the softness of your thighs. But he allows himself to slowly, telling himself that if you didn’t want him to, you wouldn’t be in his lap now. 

“You don’t have to offer me anything.” Yoongi murmurs, leaning back into his seat and looking up at you. 

Yoongi’s hands are big and they feel nice on you. You’d recall often staring at them whenever you and he were together - usually when he was bagging your weed. 

“I want to.” your hands send electric shocks through him when he feels them onto his neck. “You’ve been good to me after all these years. Always giving me deals, supplying more than what I ask for.”

Yoongi grunts when he feels you begin to grind against him and he is but a man, and within seconds he’s painfully (and embarrassingly) hard. 

“You even used to listen to my drunk ramblings when I’d call for weed.”

Yoongi snorts. “They were entertaining.” he admits, recalling the time you’d call him in all hours of the night back during your college days, ask for your usual, then completely change the topic of conversation. He never told you to shut up like you would have in his position.

Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest. You then grip the hem of your shirt and begin to lift. Yoongi watches in a trance, eyes slightly widening. In his eyes, you move in slow motion, taking off the oversize shirt.

Yoongi feels a lump in his throat and he tries his hardest to swallow it. His eyes are fixed on you - the black lingerie you wore that hugs you perfectly. It leaves little to the imagination, a lacy material covering your skin. He can see the outlines of your nipples - aroused and hardened for him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Yoongi manages to swallow, eyes glancing up to look at you. You’re smirking down at him, satisfied that he was tongue tied. 

“You knew you were going to come out here and do this to me.” Yoongi presse you firmly against him, hands roaming up your sides. “That’s why you smell so good and your skin is so soft.”

Yoongi doesn’t intend to hold anything back now - not as you sit in his lap and allow him to touch you freely. He leans into your neck and inhales the sweet scent of your natural aroma mixed with perfume, a scent he’s sure he smelled before. He doesn’t want to think too much into it (or admit that he has smelled you when he’s given you your usual because he wasn’t a creep).

“Guilty.” you mumble, lowering yourself so you’re a few inches from his face. 

Yoongi places his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss. It catches you by surprise for a moment, but then you melt into him. His hands roam your body, palms feeling what skin you have exposed.

Your teeth sink into Yoongi’s bottom lip, lightly tugging it. Your palms slide into the back of his neck just as Yoongi’s begin to cup your ass.

“You want to do this here?” questions Yoongi, a dark look in his eyes. He isn’t opposed to it, however, the way he wants to have you would be quite difficult in his car.

“We can go inside.” you murmur, lips kissing down his jawline. 

Licking his lips, Yoongi nods. “You know you don’t have to do this if you think you need to pay me.” he has to be sure that it’s something you truly want to do - ignoring that you did come out here in lingerie and willingly sat in his lap after he stated you didn’t have to pay him.

“Maybe I just want to fuck you.” was your response and now, Yoongi is sure that tonight you’d get exactly what you were asking for.

The next is a blur. You managed to put your shirt back on while Yoongi gathered his own belongings and getting out the car. He keeps his hands on you as he follows you back inside your home and once the door is closed, you’re on him once more.

There had to be an attraction prior to this - between the both of you. You’d notice oftentimes that Yoongi’s eyes would wander when he thought you weren’t looking, and he also noticed how you’d become so giddy or flushed when he was around. This was bound to happen sooner or later - but never Yoongi leading it. 

So you had to.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask Yoongi, possibly far too late. “I’m not on any birth control.”

Yoongi nods his head, glad that he left condoms in his wallet with him.

“I’m clean.” Yoongi mentions, a dust of crimson on his cheeks. 

You smile. “So am I.”

You then fall to your knees, lifting the oversize shirt over your head. You then place them on the belt of his jeans, eyes glancing up at him.

Goosebumps run through Yoongi’s skin at what you’re trying to do and he’s quick to help you. He loosens his belt and you do the rest.

Yoongi’s already hard from seeing you on your knees and the thought of what's about to come next. He watches with his mouth agape as you take his cock out of his underwear, licking your lips.

It’s a rush going through you right now and for an odd reason, you feel yourself clenching around nothing just at the sight of Yoongi above you - and the thought of pleasuring him. 

“Shit…” Yoongi murmurs to himself, swallowing once his mouth becomes dry. You’re pumping his cock gently, eyes admiring at how pretty it looked. He was cleanly trimmed, cock erect and twitching in your hands.

You place a kiss on the tip of Yoongi’s cock before your tongue dips out and licks a single stripe upon it as if it was a lollipop. You can hear Yoongi’s breath hitching, and it’s what motivates you to continue.

Your tongue twirls around the tip, sucking it completely into your mouth. Your eyes glance up at the man, satisfied when his eyelids are closed and he’s beginning to pant.

Yoongi tries his hardest to remain upright, but then he feels your mouth more. So wet and warm and inviting - you take him into your mouth fully, continuing to suck as if your life depended on it. Yoongi leans against your front door, the back of his head pressed against it.

Deeper and deeper, you take Yoongi in your mouth. You rarely found your own pleasure when it came to pleasuring men - but this is different.Yoongi is hot, you’d admit, and even hotter when he’s moaning and panting because of you. You find yourself cleaning your own legs for any friction.

Managing to open his eyes, Yoongi looks down at you. Your cheeks are sucked in due to all the sucking you’re doing and wet slurping could be heard. Yoongi groans again because, damn - “You’re so pretty.” he grumbles, embarrassed because he didn’t mean to say it aloud and sound so damn whipped.

Your heart jolts at Yoongi’s compliment and it only causes you to suck harder, your jaw beginning to hurt but you refuse to stop because Yoongi (your weed dealer at that) called you pretty.

Yoongi pushes himself out of you - he’s unsure how he managed. His hand grasps your chin as he pants out a pathetic, “I don’t want to cum yet.”

There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to Yoongi’s cock and it breaks when you slide your tongue over your lips.

“Okay.” you nod at Yoongi. “Maybe next time.”

Yoongi swallows and for a moment closes his eyes. You were a vixen - someone sent by the universe to fuck up his life. And most important, he was willing for you to do so.

“Y-yeah.” Yoongi mentally screams at himself for stuttering. “Next time.” He was known for his cool demeanor, a complete nonchalant person. You were breaking down walls he was certain wouldn’t bulge. 

You grin, small and cute, and nod back at him. “Next time you can return the favor, too.” you suggest. “Now I just want to ride you.”

Yoongi shudders. He’s certain now. The universe sent you indeed. It sent you to humble him, telling him that there was someone out there who could break down the walls he placed.

Your bedroom is far while the living room is a few feet away. You lift to your feet, waving at Yoongi to follow you. He does, awkwardly, lifting his pants just so they aren’t dragging across the ground.

You push Yoongi onto your couch, enjoying the sight of the man. “Condom?” you knit your brows.

“Right.” Yoongi mumbles, cheeks tinted red. He goes through his pockets and gets out his wallet. The condom falls out smoothly, a small, square black package.

You watch as Yoongi places the condom onto his cock and soon, you’re hovering above him. 

“Crotchless.” you giggle to Yoongi, who appears confused when you don’t remove the lingerie.

Yoongi gulps, nodding his head. You don’t allow him a chance to process, you’re already centering yourself and slowly engulfing him fully. 

Yoongi shudders at your warmth, even through the condom, of your pussy. He bites his lip, hands immediately on your hips as you begin to rise and fall. You’re so beautiful, his hands slide up your sides and then cup your breasts. With the lingerie you’re wearing, your breasts are seconds from falling out and he decides to speed up the process. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Yoongi muffles himself between your breasts, large hands squeezing them. He kisses them, his tongue poking out to lick a nipple.

“Me, too.” you huff, your nails digging into the shirt of his shoulders. You imagined far too many times what Yoongi’s cock looked like and what it would look like inside of you.

Yoongi begins to thrust with you, his left holding the flesh of your ass. His tongue continues to twirl on your nipple in utter boyish bliss. He ponders while fucking you what you’d feel like raw - he imagines how tight you’d be around him, how wet and even warmer than you are now

“Shit…you’re so tight.” Yoongi kisses up your neck. “All for me.”

There’s a change in Yoongi’s tone of voice, no longer a stutter or a tint of uneasiness. You feel it in the way he begins to thrust harder, no longer allowing you to take control. So this was the Yoongi you knew (now know sexually) - cool, nonchalant and dominant.

With each thrust Yoongi hits a sweet spot and you moan with pleasure. His eyes continue to watch you contort with different emotions at what he’s doing. “You’re moaning like you’re in love, baby.”

You suck in a breath at the pet name. Fuck Yoongi, seriously, because you probably did look that way. But it wasn’t your fault - you don’t get fucked this good often and when you do well…

“You haven’t stopped moaning either.” you retort, somehow managing to find your words. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, your lips close to his ears. “Almost like you’re in love.”

Yoongi feels it - your tongue. It swipes at his ear teasingly and that’s all he needed to flip you onto your back, hitting the couch rapidly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lifts his shirt a bit so he can continue to fuck into you. The position allows him to go even deeper, hitting that spot so sweet that you’re wailing.

“So wet. Wish I could feel you.” Yoongi says more to himself than you. There’s a creamy wetness wrapped around the condom, your pussy leaking with pleasure. 

You begin to pant, eyes snapping shut. You were beginning to think that maybe you were becoming dick drunk, because your next words surprise you just as it does him. “If you can pull out, you can take off the condom. Cum on me, too.”

“Shit, baby, really?” Yoongi halts his thrusts. Did he hear you correctly? “You can’t be that high.” he jokes.

“Fuck you.” you hiss low. “Just take it off and fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi does as he’s told, quickly getting up to undress his bottom half. He removes the condom and looks around.

“Just throw it-”

“I’m not throwing it on the ground.” Yoongi raises a brow. “I’m not a caveman.” He was far too respectful and sanitary for that,even if it was just for a moment.

You huff and nod, pointing behind you to the direction of the bathroom. 

Yoongi dashes down the hall, discards the condom, and rushes back. He kisses your cheek quickly, centering himself back at your whole.

Yoongi winces, then shudders.

You felt better than he’d imagined - warm, wet and still tight. He’s slow at first, trying to collect himself. Your legs are over his shoulder again, and he reaches inside of you deeper and deeper. 

“You look in love.” you joke, mocking him. Yoongi hasn’t looked away from your pussy since he started. 

“Maybe I am.” Yoongi’s nails dig into your thighs, his thrusts picking up the pace. The sweet sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy hit his ears. “You’re clenching around me so tight.” his eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. “Like you want me to cum in you.”

Yoongi pounds inside of you, each thrust aggressively deep. You don’t mean to say it - but Yoongi was playing a dangerous game as if you weren’t already high and horny.

“Maybe I do.”

Yoongi grumbles something inaudible. Indeed you were sent from the universe - he’s read about nymphs and you’re beginning to fit the description. 

“You do, huh?” Yoongi opens your legs and marvels at the sight of your pussy, his cock being milked with your essence lovingly. His thumbs place itself onto your clit and he rubs. “You’re just talking. Good weed and dick would do that to you.”

Cocky Yoongi is back and damn was it hot.

You opened your eyes to see Yoongi in the act. 

A mistake.

Yoongi’s looks completely feral, eyes dark with lust. His hair sticks to his forehead and his mouth is slightly agape, panting to himself. His eyes are fixed to your pussy and you decided to see just what he saw.

You were cumming now - Yoongi circling your clit just as rough as he was fucking you. His cock fits perfectly inside of you and watching the way he fucks you just sends you completely over the edge. 

“There you go, baby.” chuckles Yoongl raspily, witnessing you cum for him. “You look pretty cumming on my cock.”

A few more sloppy thrusts and Yoongi’s certain he’s near. He bites his lip, pulling out of you abruptly. His cum spills on your clit, warm and slippery.

You huff, shaking your head. “You managed to pull out.” you murmur.

Yoongi falls back against the couch to catch your breath. “Almost didn’t.” he admits with a laugh. “You hungry?”

You nod your lazily, the side effects of the weed coming to you. 

“I can get us something to eat.” Yoongi offers. “Free of charge. You don’t have to fuck me-”

You kick Yoongi, a rush of hot embarrassment running through you, but all the man does is laugh, gummy smile on full display.

part 2 (coming oct. 14) | teaser to part 2

[starlostseungmin]

husband!chan

✰ notes: the second entry of husband!skz series!! this is just for the meantime since my brain is still not ready to write a lot. i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin（ chan ）lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Chan who got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry me?” on a private beach—just the two of you—because it was his ideal proposal and you gladly said yes. 

Husband Chan who took you to (name of country) for your honeymoon. 

Husband Chan who would take you to Sydney for a vacation and meet his family. 

Husband Chan who suggested to make Berry as your child while you were still thinking about having literal kids. It doesn’t matter how long, he only needs you and Berry to make him happy.

Husband Chan who has seven children to feed and declare you as his wife. 

Husband Chan who puts you first before everything. 

Husband Chan who loves to send pictures with the caption “For your eyes only,” and giggles to himself while reading your replies saying how much he looks cute or handsomeーhe can imagine your reactions. 

Husband Chan who loves movie nights and lets you decide which one you’d be watching so you better wear the most comfortable clothes and prepare a bucket of popcorn. 

Husband Chan who cooks you a lot of food and loves spoon-feeding you because you are his precious baby. 

Husband Chan who pretends he doesn’t know about you stealing his hoodies. He doesn’t mind and gets all giddy when you wear them since they look cute on you. “I’m not giving them back,” You said. “What’s mine is yours, baby,” He smiled. 

Husband Chan who invites you out on a dinner date on a casual weekend because he knows you would enjoy it. After dinner you would stroll around the city, holding hands. 

Husband Chan who carries you to your shared bed when he finds you sleeping on the couch while waiting for him to come home from work. 

Husband Chan who writes love songs about you and gets teased by Han and Changbin. 

Husband Chan who gives you the silent treatment but can’t put up with it for hours so he just pretends nothing happened and cuddles you. 

Husband Chan who knows what exactly you want when you’re upset and would gladly take you in his arms. He never leaves your side unless you want some space but you can’t be away from him for too long. 

Husband Chan who scolds you when you are not resting enough when he’s out there overworking himself. You decided that both of you should take a few days off which he willingly agreed to so he can spend more time with you. 

Husband Chan who lets himself be vulnerable when he’s with you because you’re the only one with whom he could let it all out. 

Husband Chan who loves to spoil you with hugs whenever you need them. 

Husband Chan who listens and understands whatever situation and dilemmas you have without any judgments rather he reassures you that everything will be okay. He gives you his full support for your decisions. 

Husband Chan who knows everyone in the industry so he knows a lot of controversies. He would share them with you on a random Sunday to gossip and giggle. 

Husband Chan who loves to make dad jokes and relays pick-up lines just to make you laugh. He gets embarrassed when it’s not funny so he hides in the bathroom until you get over it.

Husband Chan whose love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and acts of service. 

Husband Chan who has the most precious smile and laughs adorably makes your heart leap. 

Husband Chan whom you love the most in the world and will not let anything hurt him. 

Husband Chan whom you want to spend the rest of your life with, forever and always. 

Husband Chan who will never leave, never lets you go, and never allow you to divorce him because there’s no reason to begin with. He loves you, you love him, same story. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[just-a-ghost00]

You through their eyes

This reading is written in first person / from the POV of the person you’re enquiring about. I tried to keep the text as neutral as possible so that anyone could relate to it. This can apply to any type of romantic connection, whether you are in contact with this person or not. It can be a past person or a future person.

Group 1 - Deer

Cards : 4 of wands, King of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, ace of wands, 2 of swords, 6 of swords

Right from the moment our eyes met, I knew. I knew that you had my heart wrapped around your finger. I knew that you were the one. As soon as I saw you, I felt the urge to ask for your hand. To claim you as my forever person. My ride or die. I knew that I wanted to have a home with you. That I wanted to build a legacy with you. I knew that you were the one. That you had it all. The good looks, the brains, the strength to keep up with me through thick and thin. I knew that I couldn’t get rid of you even if I wanted to. That no matter how hard I’d try I could never forget you nor get you out of my system. You were just engraved in me like a tattoo on my skin meant to remind me of my truth : that I was meant to be yours just as much as you were meant to be mine. That true love is real and is in the shape of you. I knew that I had to have you right away. And by God did I want you. I craved you more than I could ever fathom and it scared me. I never wanted anyone so bad. The reactions you birthed in me my love, were so sweet and addictive I feared I couldn’t hold myself back if I were to cross the line. I didn’t want you to hate me. It’s just visceral. The way you get me. The way you come under my skin and tease me. The way you look at me with those innocent eyes of yours. Those beautiful orbs that I drowned myself in. How your lips tremble at the vulnerability of your unexpressed emotions. How your tongue slips through your lips when you get nervous. How soft your tone is whenever you are around me. God, you make me crazy. Right from the start I was stuck in a dilemma. Fighting with my head and my heart, trying to figure out which way to go, what the hell to do to get to you without hurting nor scaring you. How to live on knowing that I couldn’t have you. Knowing that I would have to stay away from you. The moment our gazes embraced each other, you had my fate in your hands and my heart held hostage. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I tried to move on and shield both of us from the hurt this could provoke. But being away from you is nearly impossible. You’re as essential to me as the air I breathe. Every minute I am reminded of you. When I met you, I knew I had to do right by you or you wouldn’t let me in. It was obvious that you were well educated and mature enough to cut me off if I ever tried anything you deemed as wrong. It was obvious that you didn’t need me and were doing very well on your own. That you could have anything and anyone you wanted at the snap of your fingers. But I just couldn’t ignore you. Something about you called to me and made me want to pursue you like no other, no matter how you could have perceived me, no matter if people thought I was a fool. I wanted to take the risk and chase you because a part of me was convinced I would never get the chance to see you again if I didn’t.

Confirmation signs : Taurus, Aries, Gemini, rainbows, important bodies of water such as rivers and seas, long distance connections, feeling like you’re the yin to the other’s yang, number 14, Sagittarius, Jupiter, travels, sunsets and sunrises ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Group 2 Tree

Cards : ace of pentacles, tower, 10 of cups, 6 of cups, knight of cups, king of swords

You came into my life at the perfect timing. Like a breath of fresh air in the middle of a storm I didn’t realise I was stuck in until you arrived. And boy did you make some noise. You were like thunder. I was immediately electrified. You uprooted everything and anything I thought I knew. You completely changed the course of my life and to this days I still believe that is for the better. Ever since I met you I have never felt so happy and fulfilled. My life feels like a dream. You were so beautiful and pure it was impossible not to love you. You took my hand ever so gently, offered your help and guidance without expecting anything in return. You kept giving and giving, surrounding me with your warm and loving embrace I just felt so good. You are an angel, a miracle that I still can’t believe I met. I feel so lucky to have you by my side love. So happy. My love for you was already strong and kept growing as I got to know you. I was in awe with your soft demeanour, your tender touch, your caring approach and empathy for others. You were like royalty. So radiant and calm that for a mere second I thought I was in Heaven. Such a wonderful being like you surely cannot be real, I thought. But you are as real as the coin in my pocket and I was the one lucky enough to have you in my life. Can you believe that? To me you were like a life line. I didn’t know I was drowning until you took my hand and pulled me out of the mess I was in. I don’t know how you did it nor how you saw so clearly what I couldn’t but I am so grateful you did. Never once did you judge me nor hurt me. Never once did you question me nor doubt my essence. You kept supporting me and loving me even at my worst. When I couldn’t give you what you wanted you looked for it out on your own and patiently waited for me to catch up. When my heart was guarded and in pain, you cautiously weaved your way through the cracks of my armour and helped me heal. You soothed my fears and mended my wounds with such grace and humbleness that I fell in love harder than before. Your tender heart got the best of my reserved nature. The more time goes by and the more I think God sent you to lift me up. You are Heavensent. You are my other half the one I’ve been missing for so long. With you by my side I feel at peace, finally. I fell in love with your romantic side and your pure good willed heart. With your little dances whenever you’re happy and how you hum to our favorite songs to make yourself comfortable. How you bake in the kitchen with that little smile on your face, thinking I don’t see you. How you so effortlessly get me every time, even though I try my best to shut you out. You never give up on me though I am hard on you sometimes.

Confirmation signs : water signs especially Scorpio, letter K, meeting by the river, love at first sight, believing in soulmates, late night conversations, spiritual ramblings, water lilies and butterflies

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Group 3 - Daisies

Cards : The World, 7 of swords, 7 of cups, page of wands, 4 of wands, Death

You were so different than me that at first I felt like we were miles away from each other and had nothing in common. You seemed like the world was laying at your feet yet you wanted none of it. You seemed dangerous and so bad for my health and peace of mind. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. You were so mysterious, so intense that I had to dig further, dive deeper. You were so intriguing and in your presence it felt like the world was opening before me and my options were suddenly much better. I felt braver, more optimistic, successful. It felt like with you by my side I could conquer the world. You were so smooth, so supportive. So sensual and strong I felt so little next to you. There was a depth to you I couldn’t explain. An air of someone that was wiser than what they let on. Someone that had been through hell and rose out of it without a scratch. You were so precious and powerful. I had to have you. I thought my minds were playing tricks on me when you told me “I love you”. I didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me. I felt like a scam. However you didn’t seem to care. You kept moving on expecting for me to follow you and I did. You never once looked back because you knew. You knew I wouldn’t let you down. It’s like you could predict my every move and saw right through me. I was mesmerised by you. Bewitched. I felt like a clown but I couldn’t help but to love the feeling. You made me want to be more and expand in ways I never thought possible. You triggered a passion I didn’t know I possessed. Suddenly I was getting jealous imagining that someone else could have you and that made me furious. I would have done anything for you. I still would. God you make me crazy with how much I want you. I desired you so strongly I thought I was possessed. At some point I even thought you were manipulating me. I felt trapped and like I had no other option but to be yours. And then I gave in and realised there was no point in fighting this feeling. The more I fought and tried to repress my desire the harder I fell. You were so beau and I felt like a frog trying to hang out with a Queen. I felt so ridiculous. But in my heart I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with you, until my last breath. Because at the end of the day, that’s what I wanted and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would chase you around the Earth if I had to if that meant being by your side. You are my muse.

Confirmation signs : fixed signs especially Scorpio, number 7, letter S, song All of me, cultural differences, beauty and the beast trope, red roses, ennemies to lovers trope

[lsuyia]

❝𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑❞

A/N - ngl i literally pulled this out my ass at 11 am since i rlly needed to start posting on my tumblr more, pls request fic ideas!

relationship is established! also fem!reader

MDNI

ᡣ𐭩

satoru gojo, just seems like the the type of person to randomly be scrolling on instgram,— barely finding interesting and find a video of a baby.

The baby could be doing anything, laughing, giggling, saying its first word,—and like fucking magic will automatically text you about it, spam calling you

it all just started as one simple cute video that satoru saw, making his baby fever go through the roof.

One fucking video, was all it took.

You would get home from work, wanting to take a nap, oh but here he comes, bending you over on the kitchen table, making your legs tremble, just so he can try to get you pregnant.

“Spread wide open f’me, yeah?”

You started to wonder what was going on when one day he magically appeared when you were showering saying he wanted to shower with his beautiful girlfriend, which you knew he was lying straight through his teeth.

Few minutes later, he has you pinned against the shower wall, going at an ungodly pace bruising your cervix in the process with every thrust as he smiles seeing breathless, flustered face.— which some how always seemed to keep him hard.

“Just a little longer for daddy?”

You automatically knew when he said that something was going on, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

For days straight, satoru would always have you bend over, legs up, on the floor,on the wall, in the bed, in the car fucking you dumb until he finally came inside you.

Everytime.

At this point you were getting concerned that you might actually get you pregnant.

So, you decided to finally open up about the whole dilemma, you couldnt keep going on like this.

“toru baby?” You called out to him after minutes thinking about if you should actually do this. “coming.” He said back as his light footsteps treaded across the living room before finally appearing in-front of you before he sat beside you. “yeah honeybun?” He softly spoke to you while his hand traveled to your thighs, squeezing at the plush.

“I wanted to talk to you about something..” You trailed off at the end, which in gojo’s eyes sounded pretty serious to him. His head immediately turned to look at you looking at you concerned. “Do you think we could like…—calm down with the sex?”

You spoke softly to him not even looking at him out of pure embarrassment of the situation. The silence was so loud after you spoke to him,— until he finally casually spoke back to you“yea baby thats fine, if you wanted to calm down you could’ve told me earlier.” He said with a shrug seeming like the situation didn’t affect him at all.

Oh but, it very much did.

In his eyes, It sounded like you didnt want to have a child with him, which drove him absolutely insane.

The constant sex ban worked for a full month until he was back at it again.

You couldn’t even take off your shoes without him touching your nipples through your clothes, just to turn you on and get you into bed with him.

One thing lead to another and you and him getting into a heated argument in your shared bedroom.

“Gojo, what is up with you? I cant even walk into the fucking house without you trying to finger me!” you exclaimed practically yelling at him. Your attitude towards him at him caught in a dumb daze. You were starting to get tired of the constant sex every day.

He was yelling back before but now he was silent as he stood in front of you not speaking, you rarely ever called him last name which let him know you were pretty serious about the whole ordeal.

He couldn’t keep his need for you under wraps for any longer.

“Honeybun, I want a baby.” He said to you, as his light blue eyes locked with yours.

You were honestly shocked at him, he wanted a baby? The only word you could even speak was

“what?”

“honeybun, I want a baby with you.” He leaned towards you cupping your face as he planted tender kisses.

“I want to see you and me mixed together, I wanna see both of us go through mother and fatherhood, I want to see all of you honeybun.” He said grabbing your hands interlocking them with his. He was really genuine and heartfelt about the whole baby fever nonsense.

You were still in slight shock, but you had a small thought about the idea of you and satoru’s kid still fresh in your mind at the moment

—

Needless to say, you finally found out why gojo was acting crazy all those months ago

You sighed watching television with your pregnant belly while gojo had his arms wrapped around you and his head lightly resting on your stomach, careful not to hurt you at any point

“Their going to be so cute.”

he hummed giving your tummy a tender kiss.

[morose-melodies]

perfect failure | yandere! dottore x experiment! reader

summary: you were a failed experiment... so why didn't dottore just kill you and move on?

content warning: mentions of blood.

part 1 part 2

you were a failure.

you were a failed experiment of dottore's - you were too quiet, too weak. what use did he have for something like you?

dottore had yet to 'recycle' you and start on his new experiment. as much as he spoke about ending you, he hadn't done it yet.

he wouldn't let you stray very far away from him, not that you ever tried to. it was like you were a statue that only moved when asked to.

sometimes, you'd even forget to breathe without dottore reminding you to do so.

being alive was dull - everything was blurry and all the colors were dull. you had heard people in passing talking about 'beautiful snow', what was that?

you wanted to see the beautiful snow.

but you had yet to even leave dottore's manor. this was your home and soon enough, your resting place.

he had attempted to kill you last night but hesitated - he sat the knife down and shook his head. he realized he was acting irrationally.

"(y/n), look at the page in my hand. can you not read the first row of letters?" dottore snapped a finger, tugging your attention away from a vial you had zoned in on, "read it out for me."

dottore was persistent about finding out all of your flaws; thus far, you had bad eyesight, you couldn't properly walk and you couldn't withstand the cold for very long.

you were deeply flawed.

"(y/n)," that was the name he had given you, though, it hadn't clicked for you - he would call your name multiple times and you wouldn't reply, because you didn't understand, "(y/n)," the sound of a snapping finger always caught your attention though, "read the first letter then. would that be simpler for you? read anything you can see on the paper, just do it."

you stared at the paper, quiet. your hands were cold and tucked in your lap, you were wearing a thin hospital sort of gown - you were very cold. your lips parted and dottore's eyebrow twitched but, you said nothing.

sighing, dottore sat the paper down and went to his notes, where he would write that your eyesight was a lost cause.

he needed to find the root of the problem so he wouldn't repeat it once more.

he could not have another failure like you.

...

inside of a dark room, dottore had told you to sit down. he walked away from you and towards the door and said, "After I shut this door, come and knock on it."

so, he shut the door and waited.

he heard you tumbling around, or, perhaps you were crawling around. dottore wrote in his notes that you couldn't navigate in the dark.

"doctor," you called out in that weak voice of yours - it seemed you were in a bit of a dilemma. so, he opened the door to see you mere inches away from the door, facing the opposite direction.

dottore blinked, before holding out his hand to help you up. you placed your warm hand into his and he helped you up.

the fact that he had created you brought much shame to him.

...

"doctor?"

dottore had gotten sick of hearing you call for him; perhaps that was one of the only words you were sure of, or maybe you simply liked saying it.

he wasn't sure.

he wasn't sure of much at this point.

why hadn't he gotten rid of you yet? you were a waste of space and good resources. "what is it?" nonetheless, dottore replied to your call, each and every time.

"what is this?" in reference to what you were asking about, you tugged at the cord on your chest, and dottore hissed, "do not tug at it. put your hand to your side, now."

you obeyed.

unlike his experiment before you - one thing you were good at was listening. "it's a heart monitor," he replied after a moment, looking at the patient monitor - your heart rate had elevated moments before after he had told you not to tug at the heart monitor.

could you feel emotions? or was it simply because he had raised his voice?

...

it was a passing thought and probably pointless but dottore had gotten you glasses.

perhaps it was a waste of time and money, but he was now intrigued by the potential of you feeling human emotions.

"(y/n), can you see the letters now?" holding up the sheet of paper once more, dottore looked at you, awaiting a reply.

dottore snapped his finger when you didn't look.

"yes," you replied, swallowing as you looked at the letters on the sheet of paper - you knew they were letters because dottore said so but you could not read them.

"alright - good job," dottore nodded, setting the paper down and casting a glance at the patient monitor once more.

nothing- it seemed positive words did little for you.

perhaps acts of affection would gain more of a reaction than him raising his voice at you.

...

dottore was sitting by your side at the dinner table - could you taste food, he was unsure. "go ahead, (y/n), eat it."

it was a slice of cake.

though he assumed you would like it, you did not pick up the fork and you did not attempt to eat it.

dottore couldn't get angry, so, he sighed slowly, calming himself. he took a piece of the cake with the fork and held it in front of your mouth, "will this make it easier for you, (y/n). open your mouth," he asked and fed you the cake.

you chewed the cake and then dottore asked, "how does it taste? salty, tangy, is it sweet, (y/n)?"

"i... like it," you replied, watching as he scooped another piece of cake up for you and fed it to you - it was good, very good. you liked it.

dottore watched you - he was observing you, the little smile on your face, the way your eyes squinted as you ate the cake.

and, dottore smiled. you were more human than anything.

you weren't an intelligent being - not by any means. dottore reached out to wipe smeared icing off of your cheek.

and your heart rate elevated.

...

you were sat on the exam table, your kegs hanging over the edge, kicking back and forth slowly.

dottore glanced at the patient monitor before looking at you. he couldn't explain this lack of disgust he felt when looking at you - you were no use to him, you weren't the intelligent being he strived to create.

dottore feelings were conflicted.

turning away from you, he grabbed a scalpel and waved it in front of you, "do you see this, (y/n)? I'm going to make a small incision on your thigh. I'd like to see if you can quickly recover from bodily injuries."

he had warned you - he gave you time to think about what he said as he placed his notepad on the table behind him.

he lifted your hospital gown, exposing your upper thigh, and made the incision, he watched as blood beaded at the cut before running down your thigh.

you were bleeding... and the cut wasn't healing itself.

he turned and wrote in his notes - (y/n) is an enigma.

...

you were completely different from the other experiments of his.

dottore placed a coat over your shoulders and slid your arms through the holes, he then slid gloves onto your hands, "there you go."

you had asked dottore to see the 'beautiful snow'. he only assumed you were asking to go outside.

this would be your first time leaving the comfort of dottore's manor. he held your hand as he opened the front door, and walked your outside.

you had dreamt of this - at least you thought you had. in your head, you imagined the beautiful snow and smiled to yourself.

this was your life goal, to see the beautiful snow.

and when you made it outside, it was actively snowing.

you tugged at his hand, trying to free yourself but he wouldn't let you go, not so easily - he couldn't have you running off and getting mauled by a hilichurl, that was a joke dottore had made. he walked you outside and let you kneel and touch the snow.

but... you looked disappointed.

this wasn't exciting at all. you thought snow would be different. this was a letdown.

you formed a ball of snow in your hands, and looked down at it before bringing it to your mouth and taking a bite of it.

also, very disappointing.

"doctor, i want to go back in."

so, dottore took you back inside and sat you in front of the fireplace. he removed your gloves and coat and sat a blanket over your shoulders.

he sat behind you, on the couch and watched you.

he was growing fond of you. having you near was akin to having a human companion near. dottore wasn't so disappointed in you anymore, he felt different.

dottore did not hate you, it was different now.

...

you had gotten sick from eating the snow.

dottore was having a field day with you - you were sickly and pale. he ran tests and whatnot, taking blood and giving you medication.

he couldn't let you die now, he had come so far with you.

dottore placed a warm towel on your forehead, and said, "I brought you soup. would you sit up so I could feed you?"

but, you didn't sit up. dottore reasoned that you were too tired to do so.

so, he left and came back later.

you had perked up since earlier and dottore had reheated the soup for you. he spoon fed it to you and you ate it, almost desperately.

some of the soup dripped down your chin. dottore sat the bowl down, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped it from your chin, "there you go."

he picked up the bowl once more and continued to feed you.

he wouldn't be able to imagine himself in such a situation a few months back, before you.

it seemed you had changed something in him - was he kinder now? more patient, perhaps? you had changed.

after you had finished, dottore had you lay back down in the bed and placed a cover over you.

but, you never went to sleep.

...

you watched dottore mix colorful liquids a lot.

you didn't understand why, or what the point was. but, you were content with watching his back.

you shifted in the seat you sat on, holding your hands together.

as dottore was mixing two liquids, he made an abrupt movement upon hearing you shift and the liquid splashed onto his mask.

the liquid dripped from his mask and onto his shirt- it wouldn't kill him, at least. dottore grumbled something about not startling him before removing his mask.

this was the first time you had seen his face - the first time you'd seen your creator's face and your heart rate elevated beyond what it had before.

and you stared with wide eyes at him; at his red eyes, and felt amazed - you loved your creator far more than you could verbalize.

and to see his face solidified that love you felt.

dottore took note of this and wrote down in his note - (y/n) feels love towards their creator. what makes (y/n) not a human?

he would need to figure that out next.

...

you could feel emotions, happiness, and sadness, and even love. that's what dottore found out in the past week.

physically, you were very weak and could not even carry a ten-pound weight without struggling.

your eyesight was getting better, oddly enough.

you did not need sleep. he had made you lay in bed with your eyes closed for more than thirty minutes and you never fell asleep.

he had attempted it six times now.

but, you did fall asleep in his bed today.

it was odd.

dottore stood at your side, watching as you slept in his bed, watching as you slept exactly where he did.

you were sleeping.

though, he had proven that you could not. he seemed to learn something new about you each and every day.

why did you take his heart by surprise, (y/n)?

dottore sat down by your side and watched you as you slept. he did this for two hours.

when you woke up, dottore stood and helped you out of bed. you were completely unpredictable, you were different- perhaps the most intriguing experiment of his thus far.

and he was grateful that he hadn't killed you.

so, for that, dottore hugged you.

he held you in his arms for an extended amount of time, nearly smothering you in his chest. "you are absolutely perfect, (y/n). remain the same for me, will you?"

and he was so very grateful that he did not kill you that day.

[steddieas-shegoes]

always struggling

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'struggling'

rated t | 971 words | no cw | tags: steddie, post-break up, modern era, open ending but assume they get back together, pre-famous corroded coffin

⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️

“How are we still short?” Jeff mumbled under his breath.

Eddie heard him, though, and his heart sank in his chest.

“We don’t have enough.” It wasn’t a question.

Jeff shook his head.

They both looked at Gareth and Frankie unloading the van. Usually, they all took care of their own equipment, but all of them had been too impatient to find out how much they made, so Jeff and Eddie rushed inside their house to count.

They needed $268 more to pay for their travel to the festival that could actually put them in front of the right people. That’s it. $268.

And they only made $197 from their show at the bar downtown.

“So we can’t go.”

Jeff shook his head. “Not unless you can come up with $71 by tomorrow morning.”

Eddie knows if he went to Wayne, he’d find a way. He’d break open a piggy bank or withdraw from his retirement savings. He’d ask for an advance on his paycheck. Whatever it took to help Eddie achieve his dreams.

But he’d done that enough.

Jeff’s parents already covered the cost of Jeff to go, and Frankie’s parents had refused to encourage his ‘rockstar behavior.’ Gareth’s mom didn’t have anything left over after paying for his twin sisters’ back to school supplies and clothes.

“You could call-“

“No.”

Jeff nodded solemnly. “Right.”

Eddie couldn’t call Steve. Steve had helped buy him a new guitar and fix his van before their inevitable crash and burn when Eddie decided to move to Chicago and Steve wasn’t ready. He hadn’t spoken to him in months. He couldn’t call him up and ask for money.

“Maybe I could take a shift at the diner tonight. If I take the big tables, it might be enough in tips,” Jeff offered. “We could busk?”

“You know we never make good money doing that. Nobody likes the noise.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to try again next year. We can keep playing the bars.”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

Neither of them noticed Frankie or Gareth standing behind them, listening in to the dilemma.

“We didn’t make enough?” Gareth asked somberly.

“Sorry, kid. Just a bit short,” Jeff said over his shoulder.

“This is bullshit!” He yelled.

“Gare-“ Eddie started to say, standing to try to comfort him.

“No! I’m sick of struggling so much. We’re good. We deserve to be there.” Gareth continued. “We’re going.”

“Dude, we can’t just print more money.”

Gareth turned to Eddie, fire in his eyes, hands clenched into fists.

“Suck up your damn pride and call Steve. He told you if you needed anything to call him. Call him.” He stormed to his room and slammed the door.

Eddie would do anything for his band, his friends. He knew missing this festival could be one of his biggest regrets.

“Eddie, it’s fine. Gareth-“

“Is right. I should call him.”

Eddie didn’t wait for them to try to convince him otherwise. He walked to his room and closed the door, trying to figure out how to have this conversation with a man he was definitely still in love with.

No way to prepare, really.

He pulled up Steve’s name in his contact list and pressed call before he could stop himself.

It rang three times before Steve answered.

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

God, he’d missed his voice.

“Hey Steve. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything-“

“No! It’s just family movie night, but they’re all arguing about what movie to pick anyway. How’s everything?” The sound of a door closing and silence in the background followed his question.

“Um. Well.” Just spit it out. “We have a really great opportunity at Iron and Metal Fest? It’s in Seattle, and we’ve been trying to save up to go, but we uh, we fell a little short and the deadline to let them know we can play is tomorrow morning.”

“Oh. How short?”

“$71.”

“I’ll Venmo you. Will that be okay?” Steve sounded like he’d switched the phone to speaker, probably to open the app on his phone.

Eddie didn’t deserve him, never did. A man who was willing to give up happiness so Eddie could chase his dreams, offering to help make them happen despite Eddie breaking his heart.

“Steve, I-“

“It’s okay, Eds. It’ll be worth it when you’re on a sold out tour someday, right?”

Eddie ignored the vibration of a notification as his eyes welled up with tears.

“I hope so.”

There was silence for too long.

“You still wanna be a rockstar, right?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“I do!” He really did. “I just didn’t think we’d have to struggle this much in a city made for bands like us.”

“It’ll be a great interview for Rolling Stone.”

“How do you have so much faith in us?”

“I have faith in you, Eds. Always have, always will. You’re gonna make it.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Nah.” Someone knocked on the door and Steve whispered something to them before speaking to Eddie again. “Hey, I have to go. But I hope you wow everyone at that festival, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Stevie.”

When he checked his notifications, Steve had sent him $500.

He cried for 20 minutes before he went and told the guys.

****

The show was incredible and Eddie had never been more miserable.

The guys were on a high no drug could match, but Eddie was sinking further into a pit of despair.

“Never known you to look this sad after a show.”

Eddie’s head shot up to see Steve standing against a few extra speakers backstage.

“Steve? What’re you doing here?” Eddie walked closer, worried he was seeing things.

“Couldn’t miss your biggest show yet. Hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie smiled, feeling some of the heavy weight lift from his shoulders. “Yeah.”

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 3

Masterpost

Content warning: This chapter involves depiction of a train derailment and subsequent fire throughout. There is also brief mention of death. I will be putting a brief summary in the description if you prefer not to read this part.

Danny jolts up from his fitful sleep. He’s intangible and invisible before he’s even fully sitting up and he’s in the air before he registers the loud boom that woke him. Any concerns about his bright transformation are made totally irrelevant by the warning sirens blaring in his head.

Wait, no. Those are real sirens.

In the distance, lights are now accompanying the sirens; flashing as they speed down what looks like main street. It’s pretty clear where they’re going too, from the violent orange glow cascading over the tops of the nearby buildings.

I knew it, Danny thinks, flying towards whatever disaster is unfolding. probably it’s stupid to get involved, when he still knows so little about this place, but- well, old habits die hard. It doesn’t take long for the problem to become obvious, and Danny freezes as he struggles to process the scene before him.

The metal carnage is nothing like Danny’s ever seen before; what looks to be a freight train has derailed at the worst possible location, sending its cars careening into the various apartment buildings and stores on the east side of town, and to make matters worse, one of them has clearly crashed straight into the gas station by the freeway, and fire is spreading faster than Danny could have imagined.

Danny can already see two buildings blazing, but he quickly focuses his attention towards the carnage of the train itself. Luckily it’s fairly obvious what direction it was headed, and Danny moves fast, looking for the engine. In ghost form, physical sensations always feel a little more distant but even through that, Danny can feel his heart rabbiting in his chest. Luckily it takes less than a minute to find the engine, but as he approaches it, the presence of death catches in his throat, and he immediately knows it’s a lost cause.

He can’t sense any actual ghosts, though, so instead Danny whips around to stare at the derailed cars. He’s far more used to fighting than he is rescues, but he can hardly just ignore the possibility of people trapped, so he carefully begins phasing through the wreckage, searching and listening for signs of anyone. Already, people are starting to gather outside; both those who were nearby and those who have managed to escape on their own, and Danny is careful to maintain his invisibility as he works. 

Danny’s made it through about half the wreck by the time he spots the firetrucks arriving, he’s pretty certain that nobody’s trapped under any of the cars, and he’s also thinking more clearly. The fire has also gotten worse now, and Danny watches as fully equipped firefighters spill out onto the street, already jumping to work as the fire chief shouts out orders. Some rush to start battling the flames, but others head towards the crowd.

They’re getting headcounts, Danny realizes. It seems so obvious in retrospect, but of course, Danny would have to be visible to check with anyone. And now that they’re here, anything he tries to do in secret would probably just make things harder. There is, of course, an easy solution to that, but- Danny has yet to find any evidence that all the meta stuff is anything but propaganda.

Even as Danny considers the dilemma, he knows what he’s going to do. He’s survived danger before, after all, and if he can keep people from assuming ghost, then he’ll have an advantage on them even if it comes to the worst. Besides, there’s that whole great powers-great responsibility thing, so in a way, it’s kind of his responsibility...

Danny floats out of the wreckage before shifting into visibility, figuring it’s probably polite to approach in their field of sight.

“What can I do to help?” Danny asks, causing most of the crowd to stare in shock. Belatedly he realizes he’s still floating, but actually that’s probably a good thing. Makes it clear he’s a meta right off the bat, at least

“New hero, huh? Powerset?” The man responds promptly, leveling Danny with an even gaze. Probably the lack of shock is a good thing. Probably.

“Uh, flight obviously, enhanced strength as well, and um... The ability to turn people and things intangible?” Danny responds promptly. It’s far from his full set, but he figures those are the most relevant, and keeping most of his tricks under his sleeve makes him feel better about what he’s doing.

“Is the fire gonna hurt you? I’m not sending some kid in there to die of third degree burns or smoke inhalation.” The man frowns, giving Danny the distinct feeling he’s not particularly impressed with Danny’s answer.

“Oh! Yeah, no, I’ll be fine! I like, don’t exactly need to breathe? And I’m fine in extreme heat too, so it shouldn’t be a problem...” Danny trails off and the head firefighter narrows his eyes as he tries not to flinch at the assessing look. To Danny’s right, someone shouts and when he turns to look, he sees a firefighter wave their arm and plant some kind of flag before moving on. No longer paying attention to Danny, the chief walks over and speaks to another firefighter. Danny wonders if he’s been dismissed, but before he can do anything, the chief calls out to him.

“Alright kid, you’re up, I guess,” he says, when Danny walks over. “We don’t know how injured he is, so do not move him, but if you’re strong enough to move this stuff fast and safe, that’ll be a damn good help.” He gestures to the twisted mess that Danny’s pretty sure was the edge of a building. 

Danny nods, stepping forward to examine the rubble. The firefighter that spotted the man points to a couple beams.

“Those beams are protecting him from the worst of it right now, but we’ll need to move them in order to get him out, so you gotta make sure that there’s nothing that’ll fall on him him when you move them.” 

“Righty-o,” Danny says, stepping forward to grab the two support beams he’d pointed too. He carefully examines the rubble collapsed around and over it. It’s sort of like a puzzle, he realizes - not quite the same as fixing his parents tech; certainly nothing here is supposed to be smashed together like that, but-

Danny blinks and refocuses. If he  just moves a few things first, he thinks he can get enough cleared away and just intange the beams. He tries to be fast as he does, without forgetting the emphasis the chief had put on safety, and after a few moments, he’s ready to move the beams. He gets into a good position, and then carefully makes them intangible, ready to react if anything bad happens. When nothing does, he carefully pulls them up and away, watching as the waiting firefighters rush in and start to work on actually extracting the guy.

He watches for a bit as a backboard appears and they begin a very slow and careful process of getting the guy onto it.

“Kid,” the chief calls, pulling Danny’s attention away.The chief guides him towards one of the buildings that’s on fire. “Got two people trapped on the third floor here. The stairs are unsafe, so if you can, get yourself up there, locate them, and get them out.”

Danny nods, not waiting for further instruction. He flies up two floors, and goes straight through the wall with his intangibility. The majority of this building isn’t terribly damaged, but one side has collapsed in on itself so if that’s where the stairs were, he can understand the difficulty. The air inside is already thick with smoke, and he quickly stops breathing, belatedly remembering that he’s supposed to not get smoke inhalation. Luckily, it doesn’t take long to catch the sound of voices, and Danny follows it to a room where two people are huddled next to an open window. Right, that’s a smart way to limit the danger of the smoke.

“Rides here!” Danny announces cheerfully, dropping his intangibility. Both people startle as they spot him, but one recovers relatively quickly.

“Him first,” they say, nodding towards their companion, who definitely looks more dazed.

“Right, here we go!” Danny says, stepping forward, and scooping the person up, and wasting no time flying directly through the building, and down to the waiting paramedics. There’s no stretcher currently available, so Danny gently sets them on the ground away from the worst of the smoke, before flying back to get the other person. They’re already standing up, and waste no time in wrapping their arms around his neck as he picks them up and flies them out to the medics as well.

Danny hardly has time to set the person down, before the chief is pulling him away again. They send him in to save a couple other trapped people, but after that, it sounds like everybody is accounted for, because the chief starts focusing all their energy on putting out the fire, rather than just containing it.

Danny is surprised to find himself pulled into helping with this part too. He gets assigned to a fire attack team, and Danny trails along after the two firefighters as the enter the building and begin to fight the fire from the inside.Occasionally, one of them will point at some piece of wall or ceiling and ask him to check what’s on the other side. He goes where they say, looking for signs of the fire, and when he does spot flames, occasionally tearing stuff down so they can get to it with their fire hose. It’s honestly a fascinating process. Danny’s never been anywhere near a major fire and the fact that the firefighters actually do more damage to the building as they work echoes in Danny’s brain as a morbid refrain.

What they’re doing is clearly working though, because he can actually feel the ambient temperature going down as time goes on. He briefly wonders if he should be trying to use his ice powers when one of his teammates complains about how hot it is, but they have protection, and he doesn’t want to risk any more info on him getting out. And anyways, he’s busy enough just doing his job. By the time they leave the building, Danny is exhausted. The interrupted night’s sleep is making itself known, alongside the surprising realization that Danny has actually worked harder tonight than he ever has before.

He lets himself half-collapse against a wall beside one of the fire trucks, once they finish their work putting out the fire. Beside him, his teammates are divesting themselves of their gear. it’s funny, Danny was anxious about revealing himself at first, but this whole night - and Danny belatedly realizes the sun is beginning to drift above the horizon now - he’s not been scared at all. Sure he’s been worried; with people in danger he’s hardly going to feel good, but in the last few hours he’s both worked harder than he has in any of his fights, and he’s done it without feeling terrible. Now, with just everyone accounted for and just about all of them either fine or in the hands of doctors, he feels odd.

It’s not a bad feeling or anything, kind of like when he successfully beats a hard level in a video game, or how he used to feel when he finished science projects in middle school.

Satisfaction, he realizes. And that’s what it is, though it’s far stronger than any version of it that he’s ever felt before. He does have a lot to feel proud of too. He  helped, even though he wasn’t sure it was safe to, and he might’ve actually saved somebody’s life tonight.

“You did good, kid.” One of his teammates says, echoing Danny’s thoughts. He startles a bit, feels himself flushing, and then in his embarrassment, he feels himself tumble over into a full blush. It’s always felt more embarrassing blushing in his ghost form. The way his skin actually glows with the green tinge is just so obviously inhuman, and he tries to avoid, tries his best to seem normal and alive, even when he’s a ghost.

Of course, these people don’t know he’s a ghost, but from what he’s seen, most of the heroes out there at least look functionally human, and he waits for the firefighters around him to freak out at the reminder that he isn’t even remotely one of them.

“Damn,” one whistles. Green glow is a new one. Makes your freckles real cute though.” The others laugh, and the other of his teammates steps forward to pat him gently on the back.

“Stop embarrassing my new favorite hero,” the chief says, walking up to join them. “You gotta name?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Danny answers, desperate for a distraction from this line of conversation. “I’m Danny!”

“Danny,” the chief responds flatly. he almost sounds exasperated, though Danny can’t imagine why, unless...

Unless that absolutely sounds like he just introduced himself normal and they think he’s a hero and he sounds like a dumbass without a secret identity, which- technically isn’t exactly wrong. 

“Yup!” Danny says, trying to make it sound intentional. “Danny Phantom at your service! Y’know cause of the intangibility and like. It just sounded good?” There. That sounds plausible. If he actually does end up having to be a hero, though, he’ll probably need a different first name. If he gets a civilian identity, that is.

“Well, Phantom,” the chief grins, that same assessing look from before back, but noticeably more relaxed now that there’s no immediate danger. “We’re damn grateful for all your help, and if you need anything you come let us know, alright?”

“Yeah, one of his teammates echoes. “You’re an honorary firefighter now, you should come hang out at the station sometime!” A couple of the others echo the sentiment. It’s surprisingly kind, and Danny smiles at the unrelenting wave of welcome.

“I’ll think about it,” he offers uncertainly. “For now, I think I ought to go back to sleep for a few more hours.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Danny,” the chief says. “Just make sure to get something to eat first. You’ve burned a lot of calories today.”

“Yeah, will do,” Danny offers an awkward salute to the man, and then, before he can actually fall asleep standing up, he takes off to hunt down a good spot for a nap.

[misslovasstuff]

Op!men with girlfriends that get excited about them being angry

paired with: Sanji, Zoro, Ace and Law.

content: kinda suggestive (nsfw)

Sanji

he would NEVER get angry at you, like NEVER

Sanji didn’t know about this weird side of yours but being the sharp genius that he is, sometimes there were clues he put together when you two were being intimate

Let’s just say you got a bit too excited when he grabbed your flesh tightly and when you hear him groan, at times when you teased him at the point when you think he’d snap at you… but he didn’t

He was torn apart between ‘do I give her what she wants so she’s satisfied’ and ‘but I would never wanna hurt or disrespect a woman’.

Despite the dilemma, he especially noticed your gaze on him when he was angry or whenever he was fighting an opponent

He’d think you’d have a more worrisome look on your face but no, you’re literally melting while watching his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched as he cusses some filthy words out of frustration

He brushes it off this time as well, thinking whether he should ask you about it.

However, when you thought that there was no way Sanji would ever get mad at you, there is a detail you ignored: he gets most angry when you’re in danger

So the day you voluntarily put yourself in harm’s way, that was the day you sat down and listened to him attentively as he ranted at your carelessness.

“You think going on your own against such a strong opponent is the right thing? You could have died if I didn’t come at the right time! What were you thinking?!”

His tone of voice is louder than usual, his eyes wide and not looking at anything else but you.

Sanji sighs and rubs his temple, closing his eyes to recollect himself.

Once he opens them and gazes at your direction, about to apologise for the way he got mad at you just now, he meets your blushing face and eyes that reflect a gaze much in awe.

Obviously you were in an effect other than what Sanji expected.

“Uhm, love? Are you alright, I’m sorry, I just… you have no idea how worried you got me and…”

You blink after a while, gulping as you cross your legs and giving a fake cough.

“No need to apologise. I acted selfishly.”

Sanji notices your flushed demeanour. Seeing you sat on that chair, legs crossed, a strong grip on the base and head lowered down as to hide your blush, it made him smirk a little bit as he approached slowly.

He presses his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs, his face only centimetres away from yours. He’s grinning, scanning your face and realising that he was right about his doubts:

“You like it when I’m mad at you, huh?”

Sanji asks and you avoid his gaze but he tilts his head to meet it nevertheless.

“You get excited by watching me so heated up, don’t you?”

Biting your lip, you finally meet his eyes and nod.

“You must be so frustrated then. It’s almost impossible to make me mad at you.”

You sigh: “Tell me about it.”

After you both chuckle, Sanji leans in and whispers in your ear:

“I can give a list of things you can do to make me mad, love. I also like it when my girl misbehaves sometimes.”

Zoro

“You’re an absolute freak you know that?”

“Oh come on Zoro, say it one more time for me…”

Your boyfriend is not known for his patience.

Zoro sighs, rolling his eyes with a hidden smile: “You’re impossible. How can you be into this kind of thing? Listen to me and just-“

You pout, averting your gaze and giving up on convincing him.

But your boyfriend is known for having a weak spot for you.

Zoro notices, grabbing your hand and guides you to somewhere.

You’re confused but follow him nonetheless.

He stops and gazes around then pushes you harshly against the wall, his arms surrounding you.

“Want me to get mad at you? That’d be easy giving how much you get on my nerves.”

Of course, you let out a soft moan, undeniably making the swordsman excited on his own accord as well.

“You always wanna get your way!”

He whispers aggressively, grabbing a hold of your hair, causing you to tilt your head.

“Why you never listen to me, huh?!”

Zoro’s voice becomes louder in a breathy way as he bites your ear, then drags his lips along your jaw.

“I listen to you, Zoro… I really do…”

You moan his name as your hands press against his chest, travelling up where you put them around his neck.

With this, Zoro pulls you closer as you arch your back, leaving bite marks on your neck.

“You won’t do this again, right? - Zoro asks. It receives no response other than your loud moaning. - Right?”

He asks again, grabbing your jaw and making you look at his gaze directly which is so firm, fierce and possessive.

“I won’t… I won’t…” - you whisper, gazing at his lips before he crashes his with yours, beginning one of the hottest make out sessions you ever had.

It’s not your fault he ends up doing what you want over and over again and that’s the key that makes him mad, and that’s how you know he likes it too.

Ace

“Fucking shit!” - Ace cusses, throwing his broken log pose in the sea.

When he does so, his body catches fire a little bit but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

You on the other hand, you do notice of course.

The way he brushes his hair backward as he sighs, placing his hands on his hips as he tilts his head back, gazing at the sky.

“Fuck it, that was the only way we could find our way to the island. Damn it!”

Whilst his back is in front of you, Ace does not notice you biting your lip and looking at him up and down.

“Don’t get so mad, babe. I’m sure we will figure it out.” - you state, getting up and hugging him from behind, hands resting on his chest which he grabs and lets you experience the warmth.

“Right. - he calms down, turning to face you. - Now, why are you looking at me like that?”

Ace is intrigued at the expression of your face. There was obvious excitement there and the way you’re now pressing your chest against his is making the guy visibly confused.

“Does it make you mad that I’m looking at you this way?” - you ask, giggling.

“Of course not, sweet thing. How can I be mad at you?” - he puts some strands behind your ear and notices now a bit of disappointment evidently shown in your face.

“Can you say that again for me?” - you ask, tracing his chest with your finger.

“Say what?”

“The way you cussed earlier… can you…”

Ace was catching on with what you meant, but still thought is was funny to hear you say it out loud.

“Tell me, - he grabs your chin a bit harshly. - what do you want me to say to you?”

You gulp, licking your lips before claiming:

“Get mad at me like that, say ‘damnit’ and ‘fuck’ to me.

“Ohhh, - Ace smirks, pulling your lower lip down with his thumb. - I have a better idea, how about I fuck you instead? Promise I’ll get angry at you as you ride me in an agonising slow pace and make me mad at my core, aight?”

Law

Your boyfriend acts nonchalant most of the time. It you know deep down this man is crazy for you.

He’s usually calm and collected and the few times you’ve seen him lose his marbles was around the time you traveled with the strawhats.

Now you wonder, how can you make him a bit mad, just a little bit to spice things up.

However all your efforts did not amount to anything. The way you achieved what you wanted was from a random man who approached you on the street while you were with Law.

“What a beauty! You’re free tonight, sweetheart? I’ll rock your world i prom-

Certainly he was drunk, but Law did not hesitate in teleporting that man away as you heard a scream from afar.

“Asshole.” - he cusses, grabbing your hand tightly as continuing walking.

Your heart is beating like crazy. You didn’t want to provoke him further but on the other hand…

“He said he was gonna rock my world.” - you claim, smiling at him as he turns his face to look at you, confused.

“So what? - Law asks, stoping his pace and pulling you by your hand into his arms. - You’re curious now?”

It’s hard to hide your blush as his eyes gaze into yours with a passion different from other times. His grip on your waist tightens as his hands travel up your body to your chest.

You let out a small moan: “maybe I’m curious, yes.” Trying to tease him backfire as he grins and whispers to you.

“You’re really making me mad here. - he gropes your tights aggressively. - You know damn well I can rock your world as well, don’t you?”

In attempt to keep him irritated, you say: “I might have forgotten about that.”

Man, the look in eyes is insane.

“Oh, really?” - law questions, shaking his head and clicking his jaw. - He teases your nipples with his fingers, making you suck in your teeth.

“Let me refresh your damn screwed memory then, love.”

[euphoricfilter]

HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about

"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs

just friends:

pairing: yoongi x gn! reader

genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au

summary: maybe you were never just friends

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, they’re actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart

notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didn’t ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D

drabble masterlist || all my other works

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongi’s existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.

You’d spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships you’d made and lost—people you didn’t pay any mind to now that they weren’t in your life.

You didn’t miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.

But Yoongi had been different.

It didn’t take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didn’t need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.

Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.

Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.

In all your years alive you’d never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasn’t platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, you’d acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if you’d gone on any dates. So, you’d been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.

Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared he’d see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something he’d started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.

Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.

But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact you’d slowly decided you could live with.

Just like yourself, it wasn’t very often Yoongi went on dates, you don’t think he’s been on one in the time you’d been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.

You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.

And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.

That was until tonight.

It wasn’t often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying he’d done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.

And maybe you’d had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.

You can’t remember what you’d said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongi’s face morph into something slightly more surprised.

“How could we ever just be friends?” he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.

“Because you don’t like m—”

He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.

“Don’t finish that”

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, “but Yoongi—”

He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.

“No” he shakes his head, “listen to me for a moment, yeah?”

He’s calm, voice tender and smooth.

You nod.

“You’re not forcing me into anything” he starts, “I thought I was being too pushy with you”

You swallow.

“Huh?” your eyes widen slightly, “But I could have sworn you didn’t like me more than a best friend”

The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, “Best friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you. They don’t hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morning”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you murmur, “I really thought—”

“And why didn’t you tell me, hmm?” he smiles, “feelings are weird.”

You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.

“What now?” your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.

“Whatever you want” he reassures.

“I’m scared” it spills past your lips before you can think about it.

He tilts his head slightly in question, “About what? Commitment?”  

You shake your head, frantic “I just—I don’t know what to do I’ve never dated a person before”

He gives you a gentle smile, “Just be you. Just like you are now, that’s all I want”

“But what if I want a kiss?” you inch a little closer to him.

“Then I’ll give you a kiss”

“What if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?”

He laughs, “Doesn’t matter when or where, I’ll always be willing to give you a kiss if that’s what you please”

You chew on your bottom lip.

“I’ve never actually kissed anyone before” you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didn’t need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time you’d known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.

“Then I’ll teach you” he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Try not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what you’re like”

“But—” you worry.

“Nope” he laughs, “We’ll work through this together like we do everything else, I’m always here for you, you know that right?”

Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.

“And I’ll always be here for you too, just so you know” the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.

[luviwon]

FAMILY DINNER FINGERING | k.sn

kinktober day 18! back to the masterlist here!

☆ fiancé!sunoo x reader

; it didn’t take long for everyone in your family to hear about your engagement, so they organised a dinner to celebrate the two of you. but truth be told, can sunoo really keep his hands away from you under the eyes of other people? or will he just not give a damn about it and let his fingers do their trick?

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

the cool evening breeze ruffled the hem of your dress as you and sunoo stood in front of your parents' house, warm light spilling out from the windows. the faint murmur of laughter and clinking dishes drifted through the air, reminding you of all the family gatherings you’d been to here—only this time, it was different. tonight, your family was celebrating your engagement, and it would be the first time they'd see sunoo as more than just your boyfriend.

sunoo shifted beside you, his fingers tightening around the gift bag he held—a neatly wrapped bottle of wine and a bouquet of your mom’s favorite flowers peeking out. his other hand was firmly gripping yours, thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a small but steady comfort. “are you nervous?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was that familiar glint in his eyes, the one that always told you he was teasing, even if just a little.

“a little,” you admitted, giving a small smile. “you?”

he leaned closer, bringing his lips to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “only about how I’m going to keep my hands off you all night,” he murmured, the playful tone sending a shiver down your spine. “especially when you look so pretty like this.”

you shot him a look, your cheeks flushing instantly. “sunoo,” you warned, but it was hard to sound stern when he looked at you like that, his eyes twinkling with mischief, lips pulled into a smile that was too sweet to be innocent.

“what?” he laughed, tilting his head slightly, the strands of his perfectly styled hair catching the light. “it’s true. you’re gorgeous.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go to press the doorbell. “i’m just stating facts, baby.”

the door opened almost immediately, your mom beaming as she greeted you both. “there they are! oh, sunoo, thank you for bringing these,” she said, taking the gift bag from him with a grateful smile. “come in, come in. everyone’s been waiting to see you.”

sunoo stepped inside, his arm slipping around your waist as you followed your mom through the familiar hallways. you could feel the warmth of his hand against your lower back, the touch subtle, but there—like he needed to feel you close, even if it was just for a moment.

“you didn’t have to bring anything, really,” your mom said, leading you into the living room where the rest of your family was gathered.

“it’s nothing, really,” sunoo replied smoothly, flashing her that dazzling smile that you knew could melt hearts. “i just wanted to make a good impression, especially since this is the first time i’m here as, you know, the future son-in-law.” he glanced at you, his eyes softening, and your heart skipped a beat.

“well, you’re already part of the family, sunoo,” your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked over. “but we’re happy to make it official. come on, sit down, both of you. dinner’s almost ready.”

you found yourselves on the couch, sunoo’s arm still loosely draped around your waist. he leaned in, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “you’re doing great, by the way. not nervous at all, huh?”

you turned to him, ready to roll your eyes, but before you could say anything, he kissed you—just a light, quick peck that made your heart flutter. “stop that,” you whispered, but he only grinned, his fingers grazing the side of your thigh, hidden from view by the way you were sitting.

“why?” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “it’s cute when you blush.”

you barely had time to respond before your aunt called out from across the room, “so, how did he propose? was it romantic?”

“oh, it was beautiful,” you said, smiling as you remembered that day. but before you could continue, sunoo jumped in, his eyes twinkling.

“it was perfect,” he said, his voice a little louder now, drawing everyone’s attention. “i took her to the spot where we had our first date, and then i got down on one knee…” his fingers brushed higher up your leg, making you shift slightly. “and she said yes, obviously. i mean, who could resist me?”

the room erupted in laughter, and you had to bite back a smile. leave it to sunoo to make your proposal story sound both romantic and slightly cocky. still, you couldn’t deny how much you loved that about him.

throughout the night, sunoo’s touches grew bolder—his hand slipping under the tablecloth to rest on your knee, fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. it was subtle, careful, and yet each touch sent a spark through you, making it hard to focus on the conversation. he kept his expression perfectly innocent, smiling and chatting with your family as if nothing was happening, but you could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he glanced at you, his lips curving into that small, knowing smirk.

“are you okay, dear?” your grandma asked at one point, noticing how you’d been a little quieter than usual.

“oh, i’m fine,” you said, quickly forcing a smile. “just... enjoying the food.”

sunoo’s hand slipped higher up your thigh, squeezing gently, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. “yeah, she’s just... savoring everything,” he added, his voice smooth, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

you shot him a glare, but it only made his grin widen. “sunoo,” you hissed under your breath, but he just leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear again.

“what?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “you’re the one who said you weren’t nervous.”

(currently crying over this scene)

"i'm not" you claimed, straightening your posture with a confident smile, opposite to how you were actually feeling inside: overwhelmed by sunoo's hands constantly touching parts of your body, regardless of them being more or less vulgar. your fiance offered a smirk in response, one full of hidden dirty thoughts, almost like he had planned this the whole night, or maybe he did because he already knew how he wouldn't be able to resist you when you look so yummy in that dress.

"then you wouldn't mind if i did this, right?" were his last words before the tip of his fingers, long now lost under the material of your skirt, pressed against your panties softly, surprised when he noticed how wet they were already. he gasped quietly, trying hard to hold himself back from dragging you to the upstairs bathroom, pushing you over the sink and fucking you blind, like there was no tomorrow. so basically the usual, but this time in a house that did not belong to yous personally,

"sunoo," you whispered again, reading on his face that he doesn't plan on sitting back as long as he knows how drenched you are for him and how loud your cunt is screaming to be stretched out again by him, this time on the dinner table if possible. "shh", sunoo tried to stop you from talking, taking a look around to make sure no one is watching before pulling your panties higher, the tight material separating your folds and giving sunoo more access to your pussy.

your eyes became wider, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quite and legs crossing to stop him from touching you more, but sunoo effortlessly pushed your legs back apart, just as he was talking to your mother about wedding plans. "we are basically thinking of just having a small ceremony with close friends and family members, maybe even bringing everyone on an exotic island to celebrate the event. isn't that right, babe?" he turned to face you, an innocent smile on his face despite what his fingers were doing under your dress.

just as you were preparing to answer, sunoo pulled your panties higher again, then pressed his index against your clit, rubbing it slowly but precisely, giving you a hard time to maintain your cool. "y-yeah.." you whispered, your fiance still teasing you mercilessly, like he couldn't care less that everyone had their eyes on you now. he loved teasing you, playing with you, watching how hard you are trying to resist and hold your whining back. he knew how sensitive your clit was and how much wetter you got just by his fingers brushing agaisnt it.

he loved seeing how much you suffer to be quiet.

"are you okay, darling?" your aunt asked unexpectedly, leaving the plate with dessert in front of you then walking around the table to give everyone their fair share. you nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to say anything else aloud. sunoo chuckled, "she is just nervous about the wedding, don't worry. i will take care of her just right so she can forget about this whole stress"

"that's so sweet! y/n, you are so lucky to have sunoo by your side", your cousin exclaimed, rushing to eat the piece of cake that was waiting for her. right, so lucky to have sunoo calming you down, isn't that correct? by pulling your panties to the side after being done with teasing you, to be more exact, and slide his index slowly inside your soaked pussy, almost slipping inside you.

yet he just calmly started eating, holding the spoon in his free hand, almost oblivious to how much you were struggling.

"aren't you having any cake, dear?" your dad asked, savoring his in a rush as well, but your fiance answered in your place "i think she is already full" he claimed, sliding his middle finger inside you along with the previous one and pushing them deep inside you, curling the top of them to feel your cunt all over. you left your head down, biting your nails to mask how all over the place you were, your right hand wrapping around sunoo's arm trying to make him stop, but with that gesture he just started moving them inside you, in and out, slow enough so your wet sounds will not be noticeable,

even though he died to show everyone how much of a slut you were for him, being finger fucked under the table in front of your whole family.

his excitement grew higher when you clenched around him as he added a third finger to the equation. you couldn't hold it no longer and let a soft moan out, making everyone turn their heads towards you. sunoo noticed that too, and trying to hide his smirk, he stopped eating and held our face, his fingers moving faster inside you as he whispered "do you feel sick, babe", like he didn't just make it worse by your legs trembling at his rhythm, and you tried to nod. sunoo sighed, curling his fingers more inside you and repeatedly feeling your stomach, unable to control himself.

"let's get some air, then" he suggested, and with a final push, his fingers left your miserable cunt, not before cleaning themselves against your thigh, your cream painting your skin behind the dress.

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍒 ̟ !! SAY THAT YOU MISS ME. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ɢᴏɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇx

✿ ─ characters: bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, rin itoshi ✿ ─ cw: somewhat angst, nsfw, smut, gn!reader, afab!reader, no pronouns, aged-up!characters(21+), established relationships??, exes to lovers, kissing, groping, dirty talk, semi-public sex, lots of jealousy, alcohol use, posessiveness, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, toxic behaviors/dynamics, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread?? ✿ ─ notes: they are straight up drabbles. i wrote hyoma's first and i was like, omg this is way too long. fuck it, hope i can get the others close to this word count. and then they were longer. im so sorry i promise next time i wont be so long winded.

BACHIRA MEGURU is unsettled by the silence that lingers in your absence...

he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself. the heavy loneliness he feels in a bed far too big for just one person is almost enough to push him to call you, staring at your contact for at least an hour. you were best friends. partners in crime. a power couple. how could things be over? he misses your voice more than anything else, all the time in his day usually spent deep in conversation with you now feeling empty.

he could tell that he reached a real pathetic stage of heartbroken when he started listening to old voicemails from you at night, but couldn’t find it in himself to care as he smiles at your laugh and tears up at your i love you’s. that turns into scrolling through photos he has of you, and then that has his mind drifting to the hidden album he has dedicated to you, full of the numerous risqué shots you’ve sent him over the course of your relationship. meguru doesn’t dwell on the moral dilemma of keeping the pictures, they were his after all. either gifted to him or taken by him, so he feels he has some sort of right to them. when he scrolls to a particular video from his point of view of your pretty mouth wrapped around his tip, his hand almost immediately moves to palm his crotch. he tugs down his boxers to stroke himself to the scene of you deepthroating his cock, the sweet sound of your moans and sputters through his phone speaker making both his dick and his heart ache for you.

after some time spent desperately trying to create a cheap imitation of the pleasure you make him feel, bachira grows frustrated. it’s really unfair now that he thinks about it. how could you indulge him in all his deepest fantasies and give him the wildest hottest fucks of his life only to leave him high and dry in the end? finally giving up on cumming, covered in a thin layer of sweat, he opens his phone again in some lust fueled bravery, texting you hey can we talk?

in your apartment, you were dedicating your evening to trying not to think about all the ways you missed your ex, knowing that the first few weeks of a break up were the hardest. you stand up from the couch, breaking out of your thoughts and hoping to just distract yourself for the time being. picking up your cell was extremely counter productive in that regard, your heart jumping at a text from megs ‹𝟹. he wants to talk. seeing that the text was sent half an hour ago, you jump to reply yeah sure. when? you don’t even think before accepting, the chance to bask in his attention one more time is too tempting when missing him this much. the contact picture you set for him pops up, indicating an incoming call.

you take a breath in the tense silence, offering a somewhat unsure, “hello?” his end of the call comes to life all of a sudden, finally connecting through his current shoddy service. he sounds slightly out of breath and you hear a faint ding in the background. the grainy noises let you know that he probably wasn’t in the quiet privacy of his home as he usually would be at this time. “meguru? is now a bad time to talk?”

“no! now's a good time,” he reassures, “i’m in the elevator up to your place.”

“you’re what?”

there’s some more shuffling from him and quick footsteps that echo both from the call and the hallway outside your apartment. “open up.”

there’s apprehension floating somewhere in your mind, but the big part of you that was very much not over him moves your feet towards the door, unlocking it. as soon as the physical barrier between you and him is gone, there is a completely different tone that settles and you almost sense it before it happens when he pushes forward to crash his lips onto yours. he didn’t exactly have a plan showing up, but seeing you, there was only one thing his body wanted to do. your back collides with the wall of your entryway, one of his hands already on the back of your head to cushion the blow, his other arm coiled around your waist to press you flush against him. unaware of it, the two of you share the same thought. this is 1000 times better than being alone tonight.

“meguru.” you call out trying to gently push against his chest to create some room between you. trying to be the rational one and state the obvious facts. you broke up with him. he shouldn’t be here. it’ll just cause more heartache for the both of you. but tingles run up his back when you say his name that way, breathless as he steals all the air from you. fuels his need to hold onto you tighter and not let you go this time around. eventually you manage to get your hand over his mouth to stop him from kissing you before your resolve really breaks and you let this go too far. “megu we shouldn’t. this is hard enough as it is-”

he pries your fingers away, and just when you think he is going to say something, convince you, justify himself, he dips his head down to capture your lips again, gently sucking on the bottom one to draw out a gasp so he can shove his tongue in. greedy hands grab at your thighs, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he can shamelessly rut his hips against yours. he makes it hard to think straight, pulling away after a moment to stare into your eyes, giving you that signature wild look that causes your knees to go weak. “tell me you don’t want me.”

“huh?”

“look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want me.” he watches you expectantly, his impatience showing when he begins softly rocking into you. “cause we both know nobody else can make you cum like i can. let me make you feel good.”

you don’t find the strength to turn down his offer, not when you’re already panting at the affection he’s given you and soaking from the rhythmic press of his hard cock against you. bachira relishes the relief and arousal that floods through him when you wrap your arms around his neck to drag him into another sloppy kiss, and you feel his grin grow against your lips. the competitor in him recognizes a challenge, his heart pounding in perverse excitement. he has one chance to prove to you just how much you need him. lucky for you, that’s the kind of risk your ex gets off on.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is unreasonably bitter...

you and him are a perfect match, and the thought of you ever replacing him makes him sick. the egoist in him can’t stand the idea of someone stealing his role in your life. someone else taking you out, having your attention, putting their hands on you. deep down some rational part of him knows that he doesn’t stake any claim over you anymore, but the sinking pit in his stomach does nothing to alleviate the gut instinct that you’re his.

it eats at him. chigiri feels childish stalking your social media or casually asking mutual friends about you. he doesn’t want to seem affected, but he just can’t help but give into his curiosity. this same ‘curiosity’ is what leads him to hanging out in the bars he knows you frequent, either with friends or without. he hardly admits to himself that he’s hoping to run into you, but when it actually does happen, hyoma doesn’t hesitate to approach. he’s unsure if it’s the irresistible pull of being within arms reach of you again, or the selfish intuition to make his move on you before anyone else has the chance.

it seems innocent enough. he’s as charismatic and lighthearted as ever, offering to catch up, buy you a drink or two. chemistry you’ve always shared slowly surfaces through conversation. there was no denying that he had his charms, ones that hit all your soft spots just like the first time he won you over. so when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you on your way out of the bathroom, and wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall over from tipsy imbalance, you barely even question it. being in his embrace is familiar and there is a glance shared between you with a certain spark to it that it’s only natural he leans down to kiss you. hyoma is nothing if not an opportunist, smoothly steering you back into the small bar bathroom, his lips and tongue never leaving you.

he’s panting into your mouth between hungry kisses, hands already tugging at your clothing. his teeth find your neck, sucking and biting warm bruises in his wake, eager to mark every inch of skin he can latch onto. before you get the chance to playfully tease him about crawling back to you, your body is twisted around and bent forward over the sink. your eyes dart to the mirror in front of you, meeting his smug grin as he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs.

hyoma reaches his hand around to dip between your folds, deft fingers rubbing languid circles into your clit the way he knows you like. if it werent for the cocktails you would be embarrassed by the way you immediately melt into his touch, whimpers readily escaping you. “you’re already whining like that and i’ve barely even touched you, this pussy must’ve really missed me, huh?”

pleasure shoots up your core, arching your back at the feeling, pressing your ass into the bulge straining against his jeans. a moan bubbles up in his throat, but he’s quick to close his mouth, muffling the sound to a soft grunt, not willing to indulge you in the reactions you always seek to draw out of him. his hips push forward to grind into yours, the hard outline of his cock enough to remind you of what more you could be having instead of this PG13 dry humping session. you try to catch his gaze in the mirror, but it never leaves the place where you connect, giving you only soft thrusts while his fingers are unrelenting against your clit. “hyoma.” you manage to get out between heavy breaths. pink eyes finally travel up to meet yours. “please give it to me.”

and on a normal day, your ex-boyfriend would’ve dragged out the foreplay and teased you until you’re near tears and begging him for more, but something about the way you ask feels like a confession. that you wanted him just as desperately as he had been craving you. it sparks a fire up chigiri’s spine, wasting no time shoving the tight denim down to release himself. soon enough the tip of his pretty dick is squished against your entrance. his jaw is clenched from the restraint it takes not to immediately bury himself balls deep, grabbing your waist to keep steady.

any doubts that he had about still pining after you are gone, because the first tight clench of your cunt around his tip confirms what he’s always wholeheartedly believed. you were fucking made for him.

“god fuck,” he mutters breathily, biting down onto his bottom lip as he watches your hole swallow his entire length. his hips wind back, not getting far before the grip your walls have on him forces him to slowly sink back in. “anyone else fill you up this good, angel? get you this wet?” he asks, one of his hands grabbing hold of your hair to make you properly face him in the reflection again, wearing a cocky smirk that makes your stomach do flips.

a pout forms on your lips at his leisurely thrusts, far from enough to satisfy you, especially when you’ve seen firsthand the speed and effort he is depriving you of. “i don’t know, im getting a bit bored here princess,” you mock, despite the way you’re barely able to contain your noises as is.

without warning his pace becomes the staple unrelenting and overwhelming one you fantasize about while futilely trying to get off on your own. hyoma lets go of your hair in favor of clamping down over your mouth, loud moans already beginning to spill out around his fingers. the sight of the typically cool-headed prince losing his nonchalance, fucking you with pure ego and a savage glimmer in his eyes isn’t something you’ll easily forget. “this what you wanted? only satisfied when i fuck you stupid, right?"

ITOSHI RIN is not a fan of losing you, but loves getting you back...

rin doesn’t fall in love easily. he doesn’t know exactly how you managed it, but you barged into his life unannounced and dragged love out of him with your unrelenting company and killer smile. and rin was no willing victim either, figuratively kicking and screaming the whole way with his many cold moments and guarded emotions. in the end you won, with him wrapped helplessly around your finger. while rin would prefer to deny you any power over him, there’s a fire that burns in his chest for you that demands he give you everything he has. and he does.

but his love proves to be too much and not enough. too much in the ways of his possessive tendencies and clinginess and toxic defensiveness. and not enough in the way that it doesn’t keep you around. not that he blames you for it, although he does get the occasional bitter thought that you should’ve known to leave him alone from the start. deep down he knows he doesn’t really mean it, preferring even this pitiful longing you leave him with to the dark cloud that was his life before you. and it’s what he fears of returning to if you ever manage to fully pull away from him one day.

the first time you break up, rin admittedly doesn’t deal with it well. after endless calls and texts and showing up at your place with flowers and vulnerability, you take him back, only to return to the same arguments when his jealousy issues get out of hand. he wished he could say the second or third time went differently. fourth time around, however, rin gains some semblance of dignity and decides to keep his distance. maybe it was time to give moving on the good old college try. what other option did he have? as in love with you as he was, he couldn’t force you to stay and wasn’t well equipped to do the soul searching necessary to rid himself of all the behaviors that bothered you. maybe this was a lesson he needed to grow into the type of guy you could see yourself with. at least he intended to take that route, until you showed up at his house a few days later begging for him to forgive you for ever thinking you could live without him. he doesn’t even feel embarrassment over how easily he caves. it can’t be his fault when that night you swore you’d always belong to him while screaming his name. that same night he resolved that no matter what happened, you were it for him, and until you told him without a shadow of a doubt that you no longer loved him, he would return to you every time.

it started this viscous cycle of an on and off again relationship, fueled by passion and possession from both parties. one that rin never planned on ending as long as it was the only way he got to call you his, feeling a deep sense of comfort in the fact that you were weak for him too. that’s why he’s unsurprised hearing a knock on his door at 11PM. a new record considering it only been a day since the huge fight that caused your latest break up, not that rin was keeping count.

he has to stop himself from running to the door, because if he was honest he was thinking of grabbing his keys and heading to you minutes earlier. it doesn’t take more than a, “i’m so sorry baby,” to have him scooping you up into his arms on instinct. the familiar security of your legs wrapped around his hips, hands grabbing at your ass as he carries you to his bed, makes up for the self-loathing mess he becomes in the aftermath of every separation.

none of that other stuff matters when he gets to have you under him like this, already whining in anticipation as he peels away your bottom layers. rin can’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss to your clit before looking up at you from between your legs. a finger ghosts along your slit causing you to squirm and lean up towards the touch before one of his strong hands pushes you firmly to the bed, resting just under your navel. fortunately for you, rin is terrible at denying you the things he knows you want. especially when he’s practically drooling for you, letting the excess spit dribble out of his mouth and onto your cunt. you feel him lick long stripes from your entrance to your clit before wrapping his lips around it.

rin eats you as if it were his first meal in days. being apart from you always seemed a whole lot longer when he has to fear if you really mean it this time when you say you wanna stop seeing him. so he allows himself to be greedy, laves at your slick ravenously with a loud groan and humping his hips against the mattress to relieve his cock that’s already leaking in his boxers. your hands bury themselves in his hair, throwing your head back in pleasure as he bites down into your thigh, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “god you taste so good. you’re fucking criminal for trying to keep this perfect pussy from me.”

his free hand wanders to your core, two fingers easily slipping inside from a mix of your juices and his drool, curling to just the right spot. he sucks your clit into his mouth, your sweet moans fill the air and he has to stop his thrusts to keep himself from cumming in his pants at the sound, pulling away from you with a lewd pop. “‘ts mine,” he grunts out, “you’re fucking mine, and no one can make you feel like this but me. say it.”

“only you rin! ‘m yours!” you choke out, bucking against the pressure he puts on your stomach. satisfied with your response, he dives back in, fingers pumping into you with steady rhythm and using his tongue to lap up everything that leaks out. his intense gaze stays trained on yours with a newfound determination to make you feel so good, you’re ruined for anyone else but him.

“all mine.”

◑.◑ its honestly tempting to write a whole fic for rin…

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