#This was easier for me to describe than what they look like to be honest!

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Little dove

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jake x afab!reader

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate!au, sweet asf fluff and the tiniest bit of angst

₊ ⁺ wordcount: 3.2k

₊ ⁺ note: this can be read as a standalone but also as a part of my enhypen soulmate series. let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺ Masterlist

When Jake woke up at his 13th birthday, he frantically searched his whole body for any type of physical mark. It was generally known that it was a little easier to find your other half when your mark literally could count down the seconds until you met them.

And right there on the inside of his bicep it said ‘bite your lip one more time’ in fine red letters. He had wondered just why his soulmate would want him to bite his lip, because in the eyes of a child that caused pain and nothing else.

His family had celebrated, and he had been nothing short of excited and hopeful that he would get to meet you sooner rather than later. But as most people he would have to wait.

When he traveled to Korea to live his dream, he hoped that it would bring him closer to you. And when the dream took him to a tv-program he hoped with every bone in his body that you’d be watching and cheering him on.

The tattoo, he made sure stayed hidden, he had no interest in people who weren’t you, saying those words to him.

When he and the guys had debuted, they shared their marks with one another, there was no reason not to, and he felt lucky that he didn’t have to hurt like Heeseung, somewhat jealous that Jay had known his soulmate since he got the mark. And despite him feeling bad for his platonic soulmate, he couldn’t help but be thankful that he wasn’t markless like Sunghoon

Engene loved theorizing when it came to them and their marks. There was no doubt in the fandom that Jake had a physical mark, also no doubt that it had to be somewhere on his arm. He had a habit of almost always grabbing on to his bicep whenever he was nervous.

They could however not agree on which mark it was, but he enjoyed seeing people’s theories on social media. He felt grateful that most of the fandom was so acceptable of it, not all groups were that lucky.

One afternoon he threw himself onto Niki’s bed once again scrolling on weverse to see what their sweet fans were up to.

“Dude seriously? With your outside clothes and everything?” The young man said as he looked at his hyung with judgement in his eyes.

He only rolled his eyes. “Do you think they’ve ever posted on weverse?”

Niki shrugged. “No idea, if I’m being honest I try not to think about it too much. In the end mine is definitely not close by”

“I hope mine is close” Jake said with a far away look in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t that be korean if that was the case?” Niki said as he pointed to the red words.

Jake looked at his arm and sighed. “Fuck, I didn’t think of that”

Niki laughed. “Obviously. But don’t worry too much okay? You’ll find them when it’s time”

“How’s the string?” Jake asked as a diversion.

Niki looked down at his left pinkie, where a red string was neatly tied with a little bow. He followed it out and through the window of the room. Where it’s stretched all the way to the horizon.

“Still tight as ever, wherever they are, they’re in no hurry to get closer” He shrugged. Niki had always had a very casual way of seeing the world, and once in a while Jake needed to be reminded to take it easy.

He was right after all, the Universe had given them a soulmate for a reason, and would pull you together when it deemed fit. But sometimes that could be a little hard to accept.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust that, it was more so that he was impatient, he wanted to get to know you, sooner rather than later.

As they traveled for their tours he frantically searched every face in every crowd hoping someone would draw his attention, that he would feel that pull and calmness people so often described.

In a new city, he found himself in a Prada store, looking at a new collection, as they all were picking things out.

“What do you think?” Jay said as he held up a bag.

“Pretty sure that’s a woman’s bag” Jake said with a chuckle.

As the fashionista Jay was, he only sighed. “First of all fashion is gender less, plus it’s not for me… it’s for her. I think she’ll like it”

Jake shook his head with a smile, as he tried to avoid that sting of jealousy he always felt whenever Jay talked about his other half. He knew it was most likely harder than he ever admitted. To know her, but to not have her would be torture in and of itself.

“Do you have this with gold hardware instead of silver?” Jay asked one of the sales assistants.

“We should have one in the back, give me a second and I’ll see if I can find it”

That. Voice.

It stopped Jake's entire world as he quickly turned towards you. And as he saw your eyes and that sweet and polite smile, it was as if the world stopped spinning, and everyone around him disappeared. For a second there was only you.

You went to the back to go and fetch the bag Jay had asked for, and for a second he almost followed you behind the counter.

He stood there as a puppy waiting for its owner, eyes locked on the door you had disappeared through. His fingers drummed on the glass as his heart beat frantically.

“Jake?” Sunghoon said as he tried to get his friends' attention. When he didn’t answer, he laid a hand on his shoulder, but his eyes never left that door.

“Not now” he whispered, and it almost sounded like he was in pain, and then you walked back through the door with the dust bag and set it almost right before him.

His breath hitched when you finally looked at him. He saw how your eyes widened, how your mouth fell open in almost chock. And for a second he thought: my first words can’t just be hey.

Instead he bit his lip nervously, he had always done it. Maybe it was because of the words you were to one day say to him, maybe it was just who he was. Your eyes fell to his mouth, and he saw the subtle twitch of the corner of your mouth.

“Bite your lip one more time…” you almost whispered the words, and as if you just realized what you said your hands flew up to cover your own mouth.

A gasp filled the room from both the guys, but also their bodyguards, and the whole room stilled.

“God I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud”

Jake just smiled like a maniac, as he felt the tears prick in his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere” he said as he opened his arms for you to meet him if you wanted.

You threw yourself over the counter, not caring for the bag you had just put down, not caring for what your manager in the corner might think, not even caring for the horde of people with cameras outside the large boutique windows.

At that moment he had never felt happier. He chuckled as he pulled you as close to him as humanly possible, and the two of you stood like that until your heartbeats had calmed.

He didn’t want to let you go, so as he sat back down his hand reached out for yours and he smiled wider than he ever had when you took it and gave it a squeeze.

“You’re beautiful” he whispered and he saw you turn red almost instantly, he hoped his words would always have that effect on you.

“And you’re a romantic aren’t you?” You asked and he answered with a shrug.

You looked towards your manager who just gave you a smile and a little nod. As to say; “I understand, just go”

Jake held out his arm, and you quickly went around the counter to grab on to him. He pulled you close as the guards made sure to escort you out of the store safe and sound.

In the store behind the two of you stood Sunghoon with the biggest smile as he looked after the two of you. Sunoo was laughing in a corner as he kept repeating: did that just happen?

Jungwon smiled and said: “Finally, he was getting unbearable”

“So this is where I’m staying” Jake said as he opened the door to his hotel room. The two of you had decided it might be best for you to go there, there was no reason for you to dox yourself.

You looked around the room, but your eyes kept finding him, and every time they did his smile got wider, if that was even possible.

“C-can I see it?” you asked as you took a step closer to him. He nodded and got rid of his jacket before pulling up his sleeve, revealing the now golden words etched into his skin.

You laughed as you let your hand trace the words. Jake shuddered beneath your touch. “Oh I’m sorry, is it too much?” You stepped back to give him space, but he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“It’s nice, I’ve been wanting this, waiting for this for so long. My hitching breath and shuddering is in nothing if not from happiness and excitement for having finally found you”

The heat once again flushed to your cheeks, and he, that cheeky bastard, he bit his lips once again. You placed your hands on your face.

“I had an idea you might be a hopeless romantic” You said turning away from his gaze.

He laughed. “Why?”

“When you have ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere’ etched into your skin from the ripe age of 13, you cant help but hope”

He felt how your words fucked on his heartstrings. “Tell me everything”

So you did; you told him how excited you were when you saw the words. How lucky your mother had told you that you would end up being because of the sweet nature of them. How your friends had fawned and been jealous.

“I know it’s not a given, and I know not all soulmates are made to be more than just platonic, but I would love to give this” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “Us a real shot”

Your cheeks were blazing hot, but you wanted to say them. In case he felt differently, you’d rather be disappointed sooner rather than later.

His hand snaked up and rested on the back of your neck, firm enough to make sure you knew he wanted you close, but still loose enough for you to get away from him if that was what you wanted.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “I want nothing more” as if he had done it always he rubbed his nose against yours, the gesture so soft and subtle it stole a whimper from your throat.

In that very instant his eyes shot open, pupils dilated, the love he had always felt for you on full display.

“Can I kiss you?” He whisperd. His lips so close to yours he almost did by saying your words.

Instead of answering him, you closed the small gap between the two of you. His other arm snaked around your waist as yours traced his shirt, up his stomache, over his shoulders and around his neck.

You pulled him as close to you as physically possible. And he smiled agains your lips at the way you responded to him.

A knock on the door pulled you from losing your minds, hearts and souls to one another.

“Yo, love birds… wanna grab some lunch? Get to know one another?” Heeseung said on the other side.

The two of you looked at each other and laughed. Jake only raises a brow, and you nodded as a response. You couldn’t wait to get to know him and those closest to him.

Once again he stretched out his arm for you to grab on to and you did without a doubt.

“Let’s go little dove” he said with a wink.

“Wait so I’m the first?” You said with a shocked expression.

Jake had his arm around your shoulder, it felt like his heart would physically break if he were to not touch you when you were so near.

“Yeah, hopefully the rest will come soon…” Jay said with a far away gaze in his eyes.

“You miss her?” You asked him.

“Every waking minute of every day” he answered with a small smile.

Nothing short of pure torture. You thought to yourself and leaned into Jake’s embrace. He kissed the top of your head instinctively.

“God the two of you is gonna be unbearable, aren’t you?” Niki said with a groan as he took another spoon full of the broth standing in front of him.

“Especially when we leave in two days” Jungwon said, trying not to sound to harsh.

The eyes you looked at him with broke his heart. He would have to leave you behind, go on on the tour. He would be in contact sure, but this would end up breaking him and in extension you.

It was common knowledge that the first few weeks, if not months were the hardest to be without your soulmate. It was as if your souls needed one another, after being separated for so long.

“The tour isn’t don’t yet, but I’ll be back as soon as possible. Okay? I promise” Jake said as he pulled you into another close embrace.

Jungwon stole the attention by spitting out his noodles. “Why would she think now is the perfect time for chocolate pudding. I swear it’s her hobby to ruin my meals” he pushed away the bowl, as the guys laughed.

You were thankful for the change in subject, but you couldn’t help but wonder just why the universe would set you up with someone whose job was to travel the world and leave you behind.

“Hey” Sunghoon said, “why dont you just ask if you can bring her along?”

Jake remained quiet as he thought it all through. It was not impossible, he knew that it was impossible to tear some soulmates apart, and Hybe had to accommodate that, but still… you had a life, a job and friends and family. He would hate to pull you from it all.

“Let’s talk about it when we’re alone, how does that sound?” You asked him with a little squeeze of his thigh. The mere sound of your voice calmed something inside of him, and his worried eyed softened.

“As Niki said, unbearable” Heeseung said right before he was snacked in the back of the neck by Sunoo.

“As if you’re gonna be any better than them”

He only shrugged.

“I don't wanna assume you have the possibility of just leaving” Jake said as he fiddled with his fingers. He did want you to come along. He wanted to sleep with you in his arms and wake up to your kisses.

“I don’t think that I do, sure I have a few weeks of vacation left, but it’s just so short notice” you said with a sad smile.

He nodded, “I know… what if I called Prada, or maybe if one of my bosses did?”

You smiled as you stood between his legs as he was sitting on the bed, you pulled lovingly on his long hair as he looked up at you with pleading puppy eyes. God he was beautiful.

Instead of answering you kissed his lips slowly, and his arms pulled you closer. “As much as I would love that, that wouldn’t be fair. Come back to me when you’re done, in the meantime we will just have to figure something out, okay?”

And figure something out you did. Every time you had the chance you were FaceTiming, you fell asleep talking about your childhood, and while he was training you caught up on the hours worth of content.

Hybe had been kind enough to leave you with a bodyguard of your own, but so far you hadn’t needed it. It had, however, calmed Jake’s mind a lot to know you were taken care of.

“When I can’t do it, I need someone else to, okay little dove?” That had been hard to argue with.

He had been gone for a few weeks now and it felt as if your heart had been ripped from your chest, as if you were no longer whole.

You hated every second of it, you hated your stubbornness. Why wouldn’t you take him up on the offer of just going with him? Integrity… fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself as you got the store ready before it opened.

You heard the door open, and as you turned to tell the early customer you weren’t open yet you froze.

“Sunghoon” you said before giving him a bow, you had spent the weeks reading up on Korean etiquette and culture.

He bowed back before he held out an arm just as Jake did. “Come, he’s unbearable and none of us can take it any longer… he needs you” he sent you a smile that never really reached his eyes.

Instead of bolting out the door you found yourself hesitating. You had a life and a job you had worked so hard for. Sunghoon rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve taken care of it”

And for once you chose not to second guess it, and grabbed his arm.

You knocked on the door to the room, despite what the two of you did most days, you had ignored his calls all day. Jungwon had warned you, he had been sulking and sad and as good as impossible to get to do anything. Even eat.

“Go away!” You heard his voice groan from the other side. You knocked again.

“Hee, I’ve told you all day I’m just not in the… mood” he swung the door open without even checking who was on the other side.

In your hand you had a bag of food, he would need something before the concert tonight.

“Surprise?” You said with a unsure smile, cause he only stared at you.

“You’re here?” He said as his voice cracked.

You nodded. “I’m here”

And as he heard your voice once again he broke down in the door to his room, you quickly gave the food to one of the managers in the hall as you joined him where he had collapsed.

He snaked his arms around you as he sobbed into your shoulder. And as painful as it was to see him like this you had also never felt more like yourself now that he was near.

He looked at you as he stroked your cheek. “You can’t leave me again, okay?” He said as he both laughed and sobbed at the same time.

You smiled at his words, as a single tear escaped your eye. He kissed it away as quickly as it had fallen. “I won't,” you whispered.

The two of you heard a groan further down the hall and saw Niki there. “Fucking unbearble love birds” he swore under his breath.

“Language young man!” You both yelled in unison, and a laugh quickly followed.

Neither of you minded being unbearable love birds, as long as you weren’t apart.

Hi! Thank you sm for Reading! Please remember to like and reblog, and let me know if you have any theories about the others or these two sweethearts. Feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏼

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Something sweet | D.W

Girldad!Dean Winchester x Babysitter!Reader

MDNI

Wordcount: 2,704

Warnings: Use of petnames, Unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), dean being dean, oral (f receiving), DBF!Dean, Age gap (reader is 20, dean is late 30’s), Angst, Hand kink, Creampie, Size kink (if you squint), I think that's it!

A/N: Dean would be such a girl dad you CANNOT change my mind. I'm a Dean girlie so I feel like it's easier for me to write with him opposed to Sam. That being said, I hope you enjoy this. I had a blast working on it.

A/N2: I posted this, no joke 30 minutes later i was in an ambulance 🥴

You had just gotten off of work. Your 9-5 has drained you. Same papers, day after day. If you were honest you could have just skipped dinner, and went to sleep. God knows you need it, but here you are. 

Walking into the grocery store to pick up a few things for a quick dinner. Deciding to roast some chicken, you stopped by the produce to pick up a few odds and ends for your lunch the next few days. While you were scoping out the best cantaloupe to buy, brown pigtails adorned with pink bows came into your vision. The little girl tugged on your blouse, “I think I lost my daddy.” She mutters shyly. Immediately dipping down to a crouch you tried to comfort her, “Well sweetheart what does he look like? Where did you see him last?”. The girl, who couldn't have been more than 6 years old, began to describe her father to her best ability. During the little exchange, her father came from the chip aisle, seemingly anxious. He breathed out in relief when he finally saw her again, “Babygirl where did you run off to?” He picked her up, setting her in the cart. “I wanted strawberries, then you were gone.” She pouted, “Sweetheart we could’ve gotten you strawberries you just have to ask.” he looked up from the girl to you, “Thank you so much, I’m so sorry.” You smiled at the man, “No problem she wasn’t a bother.” looking down to the girl you smiled again. He thanked you again and you both went about your shopping. 

That night in the midst of making dinner, he was all you could think about. You didn't even know his name yet the thought of him consumed you. Dinner was silent that night, the sounds of your fork against the ceramic, too caught up in your thoughts to turn something on. You went to sleep later than normal, since you had opted to make food instead of ordering out. Your wallet needed a break, and so did your stomach. 

---

Traffic was bad the next morning when you left to go to work, just what you needed. You were already running late due to your phone being dead. No phone = No alarm. You were finally able to clock in, sliding your card through the scanner to get in. Dull boring day was going by like usual when you got a call from your dad, “Hey is everything okay? I’m at work.” The man sighed over the phone, “Yeah sweetheart are you off tomorrow?”. He sounded happier than usual. Odd. “I can be, what’s up?” you questioned. “Nothing, just me and a buddy of mine going fishing tomorrow.” You relaxed as he spoke, “Okay this relates to me how?” You asked. “Well his babysitter flaked on him so he needs someone to watch his little girl.” There it was. You began to realize the relation. “So this is you calling me to ask to babysit?” You sighed into the phone, “C’mon honey it’s the first fish of the season.” He begged into the speaker. “Fine, but you totally owe me.” You reluctantly agreed. “Love you too pumpkin.” He hung the phone up, pleased. You slumped into your rollie-chair. Before you clocked out that night, you were sure to brief them of your absence, despite your affliction. 

It’s not that you didn't like kids, truth be told you couldn't wait to start a family. It’s just you haven’t had a day off in over a month and here you are using it to babysit one of your father’s friend’s children. Maybe it won’t be that bad, you thought.

You woke up around 6am, the same as always. Only this time you were switching blouses and skirts, for sweats and a t-shirt. After showering, you got dressed in a simple black pair of sweatpants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Thinking nothing of it, you threw on your red converse and headed out the door. The drive there was peaceful. Slow easy Saturday morning. Fog covered the road in a thin haze. Despite your gps failing halfway through, you had gotten it to boot back up and continue to give you directions.

 Pulling up to the house it was beautiful. Gorgeous white house with a wrap around porch. Adorned with an American flag hanging from the banister. Charming baby blue shutters hung by the windows. This wasn’t just a house, no this was a home. Pulling up into the driveway, you are met with a familiar sight. Your father’s red Ford pick-up, parked right next to an intense black Chevrolet Impala. Parking a bit off to the side, you grabbed your bag and headed to the front door. Chatter muffled behind the door as you knocked. Your father was quick to greet you. “Sweetheart you made it! Come in.” He slid to the side and ushered you inside the home. “This house…It’s so beautiful.” you muttered, setting your back on the table by the door. “I helped build it, a long long time ago.” Your father smiled at the reminiscence as you both walked into the kitchen. An oddly familiar voice shouted from atop the steps, something directed at your father. Where have you heard that voice before? God it felt like it was on the very tip of your tongue and you couldn’t spit it out for the life of you. 

Heavy boots stomped down the steps followed by a softer pair of slippered-feet. As the figure came into view, it felt like the wind was knocked out of you. 

That’s where you knew him from. 

“Nice shirt.” Was all he could mutter, sporting his signature grin. You smiled back, as the blush creeped from your cheeks to the tip of your nose. With no makeup on was a hell of a way to greet the man that consumed your thoughts. It also made it harder to hide the attraction slapped across your face. “Thanks, small world.” Was all you could find. Your father looked between the two of you confused, “Wait how do you know each other?”. He was almost scared to ask, knowing Dean’s past. “The grocery store actually, his daughter-” You started but he cut you off, “Cassie.” He corrected. “Right, Cassie wandered off on the search for strawberries was it?” You questioned, looking down at the little girl still dressed in her pajamas. Dean smiled at the two of you, as she rubbed her eyes.  “Yep slipped right out from under me, and found your daughter-” He said. This time you corrected, “Y/n, nice to meet you. For real this time.” You smiled as you extended your hand, to which Dean took in his, shaking gently. You almost passed out when he took your hand, whole body buzzing with tension as his engulfed yours. “Dean.” He grinned, looking down at you slightly due to the height difference.

Both Dean and your father watched as you crouched down to the little girl, “And it is so nice to see you again Cassie.”. Smiling at the little girl, this time her tiny little hand darted out to shake yours, you were quick to return the gesture before standing back up to your regular height. “I’m sure you two will get along just fine.” Your father looked between you and the little girl and then to Dean who was staring at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, okay?” Dean pointed between you and his daughter to which she just found hilarious as she bursted out in giggles. “No promises dad.” You teased, and a spark went past Dean’s eyes as he went to speak but choked on his words. “Right. You girls be good, okay? Have fun” You and Cassie walked the pair to, and out the door. Waving at them as your father’s truck pulled out from the driveway.

—

You were told to have fun, and fun you had.

First order of business, like any, was to put on a gorgeous princess belle dress. Of course. Every princess needs a good breakfast so that you got to making. The smell of banana filled the air as you flipped the pancake, one of which was supposed to look like a crown, though ended up more like a squiggle. Cassie loved it nonetheless. After pancakes you decided to make cupcakes for your fathers’ return. A mess of sprinkles and frosting later, you have 12 well 10 cupcakes. You and Cassie had to make sure they tasted good. The two of you played for hours, swinging and running around the yard. Playing just about every game that could be played. The sun beginning to set, you had come up with one final activity. “Oh come on you’ve never built a pillow fort?” You asked the girl, and she shook her head, “Never-ever.” She replied. “Well it is your lucky day because we are about to change that sister.” You smiled down at the girl and the two of you started to round up all the pillows and blankets in the house. 

One magnificent pillow-fort later, and both of you were tuckered out. Cassie had finally given up the ghost and was passed out in the fort as the credits of Princess and The Frog rolled in the background. The sound of car doors shutting, followed by the low hum of your father’s truck pulling out of the driveway filled your ears. You perked up as the door swung open and Dean stood there looking into the living-room. 

You sat up against the leather of the couch as Dean walked into the living-room, “Oh you two had a blast didn’t you?” he muttered smiling down at the fort before meeting your gaze. “Best babysitter ever.” You motioned to yourself playfully. “I bet sweetheart.” He grinned while deconstructing the fort to retrieve his daughter. You started to refold the blankets and he held her close, still sleeping, and took her upstairs to her room. Folding the last blanket you grabbed your phone charger off the couch and put it in your bag, before starting to clean up the kitchen. You had just started to wash the dishes when Dean came back down the steps, this time empty handed.

“You don’t have to do that.” He muttered as you rinsed the batter bowl from earlier. “I don’t mind.” You smiled warmly. It felt almost domestic, intimate. He reached for the plate of cupcakes, picking one up and peeling back the wrapper. You watched as his hands worked at the paper before he brought the dessert to his mouth and took a bite. You swallowed hard and he noticed. “Everything alright there sweetheart?” He asked, grinning while he chewed and finally swallowed the bite of cake. “Mhm, any good?” You questioned and he nodded. “Been awhile since I’ve had somethin’ sweet.” He muttered.

It almost felt loaded.

Like he meant something other than that cupcake in his hand.

“Glad I could help.” You smiled and teased back, hoping you weren’t mis-reading signals. He smirked as you dried your hands with the dish towel. Leaning over to wipe down the sticky frosting-covered counter, Dean pressed against you. You froze as he spoke, “Now what did you mean by that sugar?”. Your face went red as you laid there against the counter, pinned between him and the cold surface. “T-The cupcakes, something sweet.” You replied in a choked stutter. Smooth. He laughed from behind you. You could feel the vibrations from his stomach against your ass as he spoke, “You and I both know damn well I wasn’t talking about a cupcake sweetheart.” His words went straight to your core, dripping with each word. You stood up, still pinned but now with your back to his chest. “You knew that, didn't you baby?” He whispered into your ear. Lips ghosting over your neck, leaving goosebumps in their path. You nodded as you melted into his touch. “I’m gonna need you to give me more than that angel.” He said as he turned you to face him. Grabbing your hips, he sat you on the counter. Barely meeting his height, he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Dean-” You whimpered in frustration, wanting nothing more than his hands on your body. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already falling apart.” He whispered, his lips almost touching yours. Not wanting to wait any longer, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. A tangle of limbs, resulting in your sweatpants around your ankles left you craving more. “Please I need-” His voice cut yours off, “Need what baby? Tell me and it’s yours.” He tested your restraint, leaning down to kiss your thighs. The top of his head pressed against your stomach, and your hand tangled in his hair. Dean groaned against the feeling of your nails on his scalp. “Fuck.” He growled. “Need you Dean, everywhere.” You whined, and he finally gave in. 

Pulling your sweatpants past your ankles, he tossed them to pool on the floor. His hand cupped your head as he leaned you back fully against the counter. Gripping firmly onto your thighs he spread you open, head immediately going to your core. Pressing open mouth kisses against the cotton of your underwear, he watched intently as you squirmed against the laminate. His skilled hands pulled the thin fabric to the side, like a cupcake wrapper. Your nails scratched against his scalp as your fingers tangled in his short hair. Groaning against you as his tongue delved inside you. His eyes, once a soft shade of emerald green, were darker and boring up at you. Dean watched your every move as his tongue worked skillfully on your clit.

It was like a bomb went off when you finally came, taking your hearing and eyesight with it for a moment. Your chest heaved as you laid sprawled out on the counter, Dean licked his lips as you sat up, resting against your elbows. “Sweeter than that damn cupcake.” He grinned as his thumb rubbed against your thigh. “I need more Dean–please.” He looked at you with hungry eyes, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to sugar.” He traced your hips, and you grabbed for his belt, “Need, Dean.” You said it plainly, not being able to simplify it anymore. With that he didn’t waste any more time and he unbuckled his belt in the midst of a messy make-out. He quickly rid himself of anything that could keep you from him. Pressing the tip of his cock against your slit, he leaned his forehead against yours and watched as your eyes widened at the intrusion. The way your face scrunched he could tell that it hurt and he was quick to comfort you.

“I know baby I’m so sorry.” He cooed as he pressed inch by inch in until you were flush against him. Soon, pain turned to pleasure and you allowed him to move. Each rock of his hips buried deeper inside you, you weren’t gonna last long like this. Whines and groans mixed together as you both approached your orgasm. What you didn’t expect was Dean to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his hips and plant his hands firmly on your ass. Gripping the flesh, he pounded into you ruthlessly. Rutting the deepest he’s ever been. 

He tried to hold off as long as he could, wanting to soak in as much of this moment as he could. You cried out into his neck, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh as you came. “Oh fuck-” He groaned, not expecting the bite. That’s what dealt him in, the sharp pain of your teeth into him was too much to hold off on. One last thrust he came inside of you, painting your walls with a thick creamy off-white. Setting you back down on the counter, he pulled his softening cock out of you. Whining at the loss, he kissed your lips as he dripped out of you and down the side of the counter. Wiping you clean with wet-paper towels, he muttered with that boyish smile,  “You free next week?”.

Maybe babysitting wasn’t too bad.

[lorelune]

(kaiser x reader // minors dni // soulmate AU, references to physical abuse, smidge of yan kaiser)

kaiser doesn't want a soulmate.

his father burned off his soulmate mark with the butt of a cigarette before kaiser knew how to spell his own name. it was beat into his head that he was so much less than human, and why would such a thing need a soulmate?

his exterior puts people off once they actually talk to him. he inherited his mother's looks, and his father's heart, and any ideas of romance or deep companionship aren't really something he entertains. there's a wisp of a thought, once in a while, when he sees a mother kneel down to wipe the tears of their child or when he watches one of his teammates share an embrace with a partner following a game. there's a sliver of something there that kaiser sees, that is vulnerable and lovely and part of him aches for it in a way that's damning.

it's very easy for him to reject the feeling.

he doesn't seek his soulmate. he doesn't attempt to restore that mark that was burned away on the back of his hand. he covers it with a tattoo instead. in interviews, when pressed about his relationship status, his soulmate status, he's honest and callous— he doesn't fucking care. it's a pathetic thing to want and he won't indulge it.

it's easy to ignore. to focus on playing and crushing what he can, and not focus on the potentiality of a soulmate.

it's very easy until he meets you.

michael kaiser knows the moment he meets your gaze that you're his soulmate.

it's just like how everyone describes it to be. you look each other in the eyes and it's like... oh, he's home, isn't he? it's safety, it's peace, it's security that michael kaiser has never once felt before in his life. whatever he managed to craft through his own violence doesn't hold a candle to the way just looking at you makes him feel.

your breath catches, you hover just in front him.

(you're— just some stupid makeup artist, assigned to this photo shoot—)

"get the fuck away from me—" he spits.

you say in tandem. "— i need to use the restroom."

you bolt. the crew for the shoot isn't very large and everyone notices the palpable change in the air. kaiser white-knuckles the arms of his chair so hard that he can't be sure he would break the wood of it.

he excuses himself. tells ness to fuck off and leave him alone too when the other tries to follow him.

he splashes water on his face, tugs on his hair, even punches himself in the cheek in the bathroom. his heart won't stop pounding. the urge to find you, seek you is so strong, makes him feel physically ill.

the makeup you'd just applied to his face runs down his cheeks. even the red under his eyes is smearing.

kaiser isn't going to be able to collect himself enough to be professional, that's fine. he doesn't need to be. he'll request a new mua and tell your team that you said something off-color to him. maybe get you'll get fired and it will be that much easier to never see you again.

it's very unfortunate that fate tends to weave soulmates together, again and again. yarn spun with two different color fibers, unable to be separated once intertwined together.

you're collapsed again the wall, just outside the bathrooms. kaiser can see you shaking, can see how quickly your chest is rising and falling. you're alone too—

(he did this.)

he doesn't feel guilty. he doesn't feel fucking guilty. why would he?

you shoot to your feet. "hey, um— we should—"

"god," he clicks his tongue, crossing his arms. "following me to the bathroom of all places?"

"what?" you tilt your head. "i wasn't following you, i just needed some air. regardless, we should talk—"

"pathetic and perverse," kaiser sizes you up, leaning down to look at you. he hopes you feel as small and stupid as you are. "what horrible traits for a soulmate to have."

you still, meet his gaze again. the same warm, wanting feeling returns to kaiser, so unignorable it makes him feel ill. he'd vomit on you if that wasn't more than you deserve.

"god, you're awful, aren't you?" you scoff and cross your arms over your chest. "i was warned you'd be, but you really are a piece of work."

it's weird, how you calling him awful makes some part of him feel so desperately bad. it's a little part of him, bruised up and small but loud. he grits his teeth and ignores it.

"i don't need you." he reminds you, reminds himself. "i have no interest in a soulmate."

meeting you doesn't change that.

"oh, good. we're on the same page then." you shoot back, a conviction in your voice. "neither do i."

... what?

you're his soulmate. if there was anyone in the world who was supposed to want him, it was you. the stars crossed upon your births just so you could want him, that you'd need him, that you'd think well of him— right? that's what his teammates talked about, the few that had met theirs. that's what all the movies he'd watched from his cardboard cot in his father's home had said. and more convincingly, that's what michael kaiser knew in the broken, unsound thing that is his soul to be true.

you are supposed to want him.

"what?" he finds himself asking, venom in his voice. "why don't you elaborate on that?'

you flinch with it, rolling your eyes. your deflections seem effortless. "i don't care about having a soulmate, regardless of if its you or not. i wanted to make sure that you got that.it would be best if we forget that... this ever happened, yeah?"

oh, no, no, no— you don't get to run away from him. that can't happen. kaiser doesn't even realize he'd backed you into a wall until you physically hit it. it startles you; kaiser thinks you didn't notice either.

"works for me." kaiser tells you. "i'm glad that you can understand that i'd never want you."

he, in that moment, believes it too. kaiser fully believes that he will let you walk out of Bastard München's training facility and never see or think of you again. he will cut you from his mind, shed that which inhibits him.

(even if that feels... impossible. but, it's just another impossibility for him to overcome, yes? that's doable. understandable.)

it looks like you've been slapped when he says it. you rub over your soulmate mark. it's in the same spot on your left hand as his once was. (kaiser just read an psychology article about how this is a common self-soothing behavior. especially in those who have experienced some sort of attachment trauma—)

he sneers.

"go cry about it later. you're on the clock aren't you?"

"i'm not crying about it." you aren't but the way you get defensive and weird about his words lights in a fire in him that feels... dangerous to let continue to burn. "and aren't you working too?"

"i'm the talent." he smiles. you frown.

"oh my god," you duck away from him, back to him. "i'm so glad neither of us want each other because you're fucking insufferable already."

it feels. bad for him to hear. and yet kaiser wants to hear more of it. he wants to hear all about how you don't want him, why you don't want, and he wants to make so, so sure that you know that he doesn't need you either.

"i'll put in a complaint," he hums, matching your strides and speeding up just enough to take the lead. you're walking the same way after all. "i'll get you reassigned. i could get you fired."

"that's— taking it a bit far, isn't it?"

"i don't think it's taking it far enough." kaiser stops, whips around, and god knows that threads of fate possess him but he leers down and brackets you against large, circular column. the air is still and quiet, and he can hear the way your breath catches as he invades your space. he hopes you can feel the heat of his breath as he speaks, nearly nose-to-nose with you. "i'll pay your way to move out of the country, even. i would put you on the other side of the world."

"is it just your soulmate that you're rejecting, or love in general?" you laugh. "because no one will want you if that's the way you speak to someone you're supposed to love."

"i'm supposed to be tethered to you," he reminds you. "love is taking it a bit far. seems like you're attached already."

"you're the one who is looking at me like you want to eat me."

(doesn't he want to devour you?)

kaiser barely stops himself from spitting on you as he recoils. noa will only tolerate so much of his attitude.

you walk in silence back to the photo shoot, the room clearly away something is wrong with him. and you. but mostly him because he refuses to have you work on him further and instead makes himself a problem for the other three makeup artists available.

that night, he returns home alone. he stalks your employer's website, finds you, and finds everything about you. what you do, how long you've been doing it for, your education, your friends, your family, what you like— who you are.

he hates every bit of it. he hates how he can't stop himself.

there's another photo shoot next week, promotional materials for the new season. he has solo shots to take. and it only takes a few texts to make sure that only makeup artist there will be you. he can corner you again, probably, make your life worse so you know what an absolute mistake your making in not wanting him.

kaiser smiles to himself as he makes his arrangements. he delights in the sour expressions that he's certain you'll make when you see him again.

it's not that he cares about, he doesn't, he really doesn't. but... isn't there a particular type of pleasure to be reaped from making you, his soulmate of all people, squirm from discomfort? from his research on you, he's getting ideas, angles to force you into it.

it's enticing. it's enthralling.

and it has absolutely nothing to do with the specter of warmth that you could potentially provide him.

nothing at all.

and if it is— he'll make sure you never know, anyway.

[77zrose]

ZB1 REALISING THEY FELL FOR THEIR BESTFRIEND

genre : ot9, fluff “ 🧺 .*

김지웅 kim jiwoong

Jiwoong would notice his feelings quietly, during a moment when you’re laughing or doing something mundane. He’d feel a pang in his chest and think, Why does this feel so different now? Jiwoong is someone who values control over his emotions, so he’d likely try to keep things normal.

Over time, his actions would subtly shift. He’d linger a bit too long after walking you home, or his texts would become more thoughtful. One evening, as you both sit on a park bench under the stars, he’d finally let his feelings slip.

Jiwoong: “You know, being with you makes everything feel… easier. Happier. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I… I think I’ve fallen for you. I don’t want to risk ruining what we have, but I can’t pretend anymore.”

성한빈 sung hanbin

Hanbin’s first instinct upon realizing his feelings would be panic. He’d smile through the confusion, but internally he’d be thinking, This can’t be happening. What if I ruin our friendship? He’d probably talk to someone he trusts to figure out what to do, all while being extra attentive toward you.

One evening, after you’ve spent the day together laughing and sharing stories, he’d muster the courage to bring it up.

Hanbin: “I’ve been meaning to tell you something… I think I’ve started seeing you differently lately. I’m not sure when it happened, but… I think I’ve fallen for you. I care about you so much, and I just hope you can feel the same.”

장하오 zhanghao

Zhanghao’s realization would hit him during a quiet moment—like when you’re both reading or working on something together. He’d glance at you and suddenly feel his heart race. His first thought would be, Oh no… this is dangerous.

Zhanghao isn’t one to bottle things up for too long. After spending a week analyzing his feelings, he’d decide to confess in a straightforward but warm way. Over coffee, he’d break the silence.

Zhanghao: “I need to tell you something, and I want you to know I’ve thought about it carefully. I think I’ve fallen for you. I know this changes everything, but you’re too important for me to not be honest.”

석매튜 seok matthew

Matthew would be adorably clumsy about the whole situation. When he first realizes he has feelings for you, he’d start stammering or avoiding eye contact whenever you’re around. He’d try to act normal, but his little gestures—like remembering your favorite drink or texting you late at night—would give him away.

Eventually, he wouldn’t be able to hold it in. During a casual hangout, he’d blurt it out unexpectedly.

Matthew: “Okay, I can’t keep this in anymore! I like you. Like, really like you. You’re my best friend, and I know this might sound crazy, but I don’t think I can keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

김태래 kim taerae

Taerae’s feelings would sneak up on him gradually. He’d notice how much happier he feels when you’re around, how your smile stays in his mind long after you’ve left. Being the artistic and emotional person he is, he’d likely channel his emotions into music first.

One day, he’d ask you to listen to a song he wrote. As the melody fills the air, the lyrics would describe his feelings—how he fell for his best friend and is scared but hopeful. When the song ends, he’d look at you nervously.

Taerae: “I’ve been writing this for a while because I didn’t know how else to tell you… I like you. More than just a friend.”

리키 ricky

Ricky would try to act like nothing’s changed, but his behavior would say otherwise. He’d tease you more often, throwing playful comments your way to hide his nervousness. Behind the scenes, he’d overthink every interaction, wondering if you feel the same.

Eventually, his confident exterior would crack, and he’d decide to tell you in his own charming way. During a late-night walk, he’d turn to you with a soft smile.

Ricky: “You know, you’re the only person who can make me nervous. I realized it’s because I’ve started liking you—more than a friend should. I don’t know how you feel, but I had to tell you.”

김규빈 kim gyuvin

Gyuvin would be hilariously awkward about his feelings. He’d start stumbling over his words around you, his ears turning red whenever you’re near. The other members would tease him relentlessly for how obvious he’s being.

After working up his courage, he’d sit you down one evening and try to explain.

Gyuvin: “Okay, so… this is really hard for me to say, but I like you. Like, really like you. And I know I’m being super awkward, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

박건욱 park gunwook

Gunwook would be in denial at first, brushing off his feelings as just admiration. But when he catches himself thinking about you constantly, he’d realize it’s more than that. He’d try to impress you subtly—showing off his skills or taking extra care to support you.

Finally, he’d choose a bold but heartfelt moment to confess, like when you’re both watching a sunset together.

Gunwook: “You mean a lot to me. More than just a friend. I don’t know when it happened, but I’ve fallen for you. And I’d do anything to make you happy, whether or not you feel the same.”

한유진 han yujin

Yujin would be the shyest about his feelings. He’d blush whenever you’re around and would try to avoid making it obvious, but his small acts of kindness—like sharing his snacks or sending you cute messages—would give him away.

One day, he’d finally confess in the sweetest, most innocent way. He’d hand you a small gift, like a handwritten letter, and nervously mumble his feelings.

Yujin: “I… I wanted to tell you something. You’re really important to me, and I think… I think I like you. I know this might be sudden, but I hope you understand how much you mean to me.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

How do you feel about aromantic idia

As a headcanon? I love (jokingly) bullying Idia for being a socially awkward and sexually repressed otaku, but personally I also like the idea of him being aromantic. He doesn't like attention focused on him and generally seems to prefer fictional characters (ie his waifus/j) to interacting with real people. However, I think it goes deeper than just that. There's many lines in his Suitor Suit card that hint at Idia being repulsed by romance (even if you remove the context of him being kidnapped and forced to wed a ghost):

"There's no reasoning with people who lose their minds over every little infatuation. Like, just keep your head down and focus on school!" (He prioritizes other things, such as school and dismisses things like crushes.)

"I could never swear my eternal love. There's no such thing, and I'm nothing if not honest." (Here, he denies the existence of "eternal love".)

"Love is just chemicals in your brain. And people call that fate? They're all nuts, if you ask me." (He describes the feeling of love in a cold, scientific manner when this isn't something most people would think that deeply about.)

"Don't leave me. Stay with me forever. ...Oof, these emo lines are killing me. I'm gonna steer clear of proposals for the rest of my life." (He makes fun of typical romantic lines and then outright states he doesn't ever want to propose to anyone.)

"Do whatever you want with me. Just get it over with!" (Idia conveys distress and wanting to quickly be done with the kiss/general romantic circumstances.)

"If you want to talk romance, I'm your guy. I'm familiar with all the popular fan ships in video games and manga. You might even call me an expert." (He diverts the topic of real-life romances to his hobbies; aromantics, contrary to popular belief, can still enjoy romantic media without being attracted to or having limited attraction to real people themselves.)

Beyond his Suitor Suit lines, Idia has expressed upset at romantic love being viewed differently than platonic love. In 6-76, during his post-OB flashback, Idia shows off Ortho to Styx researchers, who are appalled by what he has done. "Wait... You built your late brother?! But that's wrong, Mr. Shroud!" they tell him. To that, Idia says, "So it's romantic when a hero rescues his ladylove from the Underworld, but when I do the same for my brother it's wrong?" He's frustrated that the story about Hercules diving into the Underworld to save Megara is praised, but him going that same extreme distance to revive his loved one--an act of platonic love--is denounced.

Idia is also consistently a character that has been shown to enjoy optimization and efficiency. He doesn't like anything that overcomplicates what can easily be done or made easier by machines. For someone like him, who was raised in isolation and has to bear the guilt of potentially dooming a future partner to the Shroud family curse, I think he'd just say "fuck it" at some point and decide it's ultimately not worth that hassle. It could read like a justification for him if others ask why he never looked into finding a spouse, S/O, etc. Like he'd tell them it isn't worth his time or something to get them off his back.

Of course, this is just my personal headcanon and you're free to agree or disagree with me on it! (I support all you Idia yumes and shippers out there 😉) Let's remember that we're all here to have fun and to not take these things too seriously.

[doberbutts]

So I'm going to ask an honest question here and ask you please explain in layman's terms. Every trans person I know irl has no concept of the transandrophobia discourse but every time I see more of it online I'm...unsettled, and it takes a lot to power through all the terminology.

I initially was really receptive to transandrophobia because the rationale behind being against it sounded stupid and akin to label discourse in the queer community. I saw "being a man is not an axis of oppression therefore you don't get your Own Word" and thought that was pedantic nonsense, that language doesn't need to adhere to that rule, and that it's helpful to have a term designated towards transmasculine experiences so people can find those experiences easier. Not that trans women's experiences aren't also beneficial! But that, well, obviously no matter how similar the experience birds of a feather and that sense of comfort of sharing identity still matters. This is true for other issues of identity too, I find, weather that's a good thing or a bad thing idk, but it is human.

The thing is I follow a lot of transwomen and have been seeing some alarms being raised about the community being formed around this word. You blocked one of the most egregious offenders so I trust you (which is why I'm asking sorry) I've seen a lot of misogyny and essentialism from people using the term "transandrophobia" and more egregiously "transmisandry." Idk your opinion on the latter term (I haven't scrolled down far enough on your blog, sorry if you talked about this before) but to me it's unconscionable. I was taught that transandrophobia existed as a term specifically NOT to use that term, that elevating misandry to a legitimate issue was dangerous for obvious reasons and it was one of the reasons why I was so supportive of transandrophobia. To me, it seemed like an awareness that misogyny was the prevailing issue behind all issues of gender oppression, but when I actually look at the tag I...get uncomfortable.

Blogs I follow have repeatedly been upset at misogyny from this community, and have been using the term "transandrobro" to describe behavior they find akin to cis MRAs. I've truly seen horrible things with hundreds, sometimes thousands of notes to it that do, unfortunately, feel like women are being blamed for the plight of trans men. I've seen cis people say they were originally on MRA reddits and then came to tumblr to "confront the misandry directly" only to wholeheartedly adopt transandrophobia into their worldview. It's hard because I KNOW I shouldn't judge a community based on a few crazies but it truly does feel sometimes like "transandrophobia" gives misogynists a venue to air their woman-hating to an eager audience, kinda like how "Karen" has been co-opted beyond the og meaning of being for racist white woman to any woman being mildly rude.

So like, here it is: can transandrophobia exist without being co-opted by misogynists? Is there a threshold of proliferation for misogynists destroying this word until a new one needs to be made? Or will every word trying to identify the transmasculine experience be inevitably co-opted by misogynists because misogynists are just that powerful, so people should double down harder on the word and work to push misogynists out?

(Also am I going crazy, or did this word a year ago used to have a WAY better community than the one I see nowadays. Back then I could find your blog and really compassionate people easily, and now it's just...bad.)

It is a little hard to understand some of this post but I will do my best to answer what I think is being asked.

To put simply, I think the reason why it was better a year or two ago is because the majority of the people who were actually trying to further the conversation and not just circle jerk in the echo chamber got chased off. Transandrophobia, anti-transmasculinity, transandromisia, transmascphobia... the guys who coined these are largely either not posting at all anymore or post far far less than they used to. They were harassed and the constant exposure to transphobia made them shut down their blogs for their own mental health. Not all of them, but a lot of the so-called "big names" had this happen.

Even I stopped posting for a while and shuttered the doors for a bit outside of a long queue of dog photos because of how much it was affecting my mental health.

In their place remain people who are not committed to the same conversation. Perhaps they are younger, or less familiar with the building blocks of theory that really should be required reading, or are still stuck in their "everything sucks and it's YOUR fault" phase. Maybe they do come from different places, like 4chan or reddit, which are less prone to this sort of discussion. A lot of the original crowd had been on tumblr long enough to remember when we could still edit posts, and I keep seeing people who would have been in elementary school at that time posting to the tag nowadays.

I was discussing this problem on discord with a small group of friends and one of them- a trans fem- called it second wave transandrophobia discourse as a bitter joke. I think she is more right than wrong, regardless.

I'm not sure who you believe I've blocked- in general I don't air out who I block on this blog because at nearly 12k followers there are too many people who would love to dogpile someone for the sin of disagreeing with me and I do my best to prevent that. I don't want anyone to be harassed, after all. There's a lot of assumptions that have been made about my block and follow behavior that vary from "hilarious but untrue" to "outright offensive slander".

People are people, and some people are shitheads. Trans mascs and people who want to support trans mascs are not exempt from that. I say this all the time- Kayne West is objectively a shitty person but his existence doesn't prove the concept of antiblackness to be a myth. Caitlyn Jenner is objectively a shitty person but her existence doesn't prove the concept of transmisogyny to be a myth. So why do shitty trans mascs prove our own theory to be dangerous or nonexistent? Why hold us to a higher standard than any other marginalized group?

I could ask you the same question- there are posts on here with hundreds, sometimes thousands, of notes made by trans fems and cis women who blame their problems with transmisogyny on trans mascs. There are people coming from reddit, Twitter, 4chan who are being actively transphobic and misogynistic and claiming they're doing it for the good of transfeminism. There are posts filled with misogyny and bioessentialism and gender essentialism and even interphobia and racism and transphobia being left completely unchecked. Do you think it would be acceptable for me to ask if that means transmisogyny theory should be abandoned or if we should just accept that it will draw people with bad intentions?

Or do you think the better answer is to focus instead on finding those with a good head on their shoulders, and making sure it's them who has their voice heard? Do you think we should maybe not judge entire demographics because there exists some shitty people who claim the same identity?

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Can I request some Bachelor/Bachelorett's of your choice asking the farmer to be their partner at the flower dance? It'd be cute if they could ask us instead of the farmer always taking the initiative

Bachelors/ettes of my choice? Hmm, since it's my choice here, I've chosen.... All SDV marriage candidate :D

Thanks for the ask, dear anon! Enjoy! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors/ettes asking Farmer to be their dance partner at the Flower Dance:

SDV bachelors:

Alex:

Alex tries to make Farmer's question sound casual.

Something like, "Hey, I'd like to ask you to be my dance partner, but if you say no, that's okay, it won't hurt me in any way."

(He can't fool himself, It will make him sad if Farmer says no).

So the athlete almost jumped up on the spot with joy when Farmer agreed. But he tried to play it cool.

"So, shall we go and take our place on the dance floor?"

Alex was so happy, and started to get a little nervous not to mess it up.

Elliott:

"Farmer, my friend! I've been preparing for this celebration for a couple of days now, and I would be immensely happy if you would honoring me of agreeing to be my dance partner."

Elliott hopes the invitation wasn't too pompous. Otherwise, the writer was already worried he'd ruined everything.

Maybe Farmer already had a partner and Elliott with his speech made them feel pressured and awkward?

But Farmer's smile and nod of agreement said otherwise.

"Really? Oh, delightful! Then let's go rehearse our moves before the festival starts." Words can't describe how happy Elliott is.

Sebastian:

Because Sebastian doesn't really like dancing in public, asking someone to dance is a big step for him.

No, for real. Farmer must be a very dear friend to him (or maybe something more), if the local emo stepped out of his comfort zone to ask them to dance.

And his efforts paid off - Farmer agreed without delay.

Now, even the spring sun and heat will not spoil Sebby's mood.

Sam and Abigail start teasing Sebastian a little bit (affectionate) that he'll now have a silly smile on his face all day long.

Sam:

Sam is simply the epitome of a golden retriever who can get anything he wants with his charm alone. (Sam doesn't realise it himself, but still).

And even though he's a little nervous, it doesn't hurt his charm at all.

"Hey, Farmer. I've been thinking... Would you be interested in becoming my dance partner? If you don't mind."

Look at his puppy dog eyes, warm smile and slightly pink cheeks. How could you say no to him?

Here, Farmer didn't refuse either.

"Super! Thanks a lot! Let's take our positions then, we're about to dance!"

Harvey:

It took Harvey about fifteen or twenty minutes to gather the will to dare to ask Farmer to dance.

It seemed like an easy task for a doctor, but his throat was immediately dry and his heart was pounding frantically in his chest.

"Farmer, I was wondering if you'd like-" "To dance with you? Sure thing, Harvey!"

Well, that was easier than he thought. And why was Harvey getting worried over nothing?

Now, the only thing left for him to do was to wait for the dance to start and hope Harvey didn't step on Farmer's foot out of excitement.

Shane:

To be honest, Shane didn't dare ask Farmer for fear of rejection.

But eventually Jas intervened, telling Farmer that "uncle Shane wants to talk to you" ("Jas!").

Well, since the conversation is already inevitable, Shane has to ask them.

"Do you want to be my dance partner?" "Of course, Shane, I'd love to!"

The heck, what... Why was it so easy?

Now they're both dancing, he can't believe it! Shane is pleased.

(In the background, Jas smiles at her uncle and Farmer as they both walk to the dance floor).

SDV bachelorettes:

Leah:

Probably, of all the candidates present, Leah is the calmest. Why make something up when you can just ask them straight out?

"Hey, Farmer. If you don't have a dance partner, we can dance together."

The artist was quite okay to take no for an answer.

Still, glad that Farmer agreed to her request.

"Cool. I'll get us a good spot so we don't bake directly in the sun while dancing."

Honesty and calmness are key to her success.

Penny:

Yoba, give her strength and courage...

Penny was embarrassed to even look in Farmer's direction, let alone start a conversation with them.

Someone she knows should help nudge her to ask Farmer (Emily or Maru).

The young teacher was so nervous, she didn't even notice that Farmer smilingly agreed to her offer to be a dance partner.

Wait, what? She heard everything right? They said yes?

Oh well... then Penny went to get prepared (get prepared mentally not to faint from happiness).

Abigail:

"Ugh, stupid Flower dance... Mum made me wear this dumb dress again..." *notices Farmer* "Hey, Farmer~ Do you have a dance partner already?"

Abigail isn't really shy, to be honest.

Won't ask Farmer directly about dancing, but her hints are impossible not to recognise.

She was terribly relieved that Farmer agreed and immediately grabbed their hand, dragging them towards the dance floor.

Abby hopes her mother wouldn't think that she liked dancing now, or Caroline would want to take her to aerobics later.

Maru:

Maru was still practising her speech to Farmer from a day ago. She was really hoping that they would agree to dance with her at the festival.

That doesn't change the fact that even though she was prepared, Maru was a little nervous for fear of rejection.

Still, until you ask them, you won't know, right?

When Farmer approached her on their own, Maru finally asked them.

The young inventor's fears were in vain: the Farmer said yes immediately!

Oh, she couldn't wait to take her place to dance with Farmer!

Emily:

Emily is just overjoyed! A beautiful day, a beautiful atmosphere, a beautiful forest... The spirits are favouring them today.

Oh, there's the Farmer! She immediately ran up to them to ask them to dance.

The blue-haired girl was too excited to even think about the fact that Farmer might refuse her....

But that wouldn't happen, because Farmer agreed without hesitation!

Emily, even more overjoyed, immediately took them to the dance floor, letting them rehearse the dance together before festival starts.

Haley:

"Farmer. I'm you want, I might dance with you~"

Haley doesn't know if her charm will work, since last year she refused to dance with them. Yeah, awkward...

So she won't be surprised if they turn her down. But will be surprised when Farmer immediately agrees.

"Great! Then we need to rehearse to make everything perfect. I've already been Flowers Queen for a few years, I don't want to give up the title."

Haley doesn't care about the title anymore, she's dancing with Farmer! Hee hee~

[fangirlfuel]

Three Days Before Forever

It’s 3 days before I marry the woman I’ve been waiting my whole life for. And if I’m honest, I’ve been sitting here staring at a blank screen for over an hour now, trying to find the right words to describe what this moment feels like. But how do you sum up four years of love, laughter, growth, and memories in a single post? The truth is — you can’t. But I’ll try. Because you deserve that, Y/N. You’ve always deserved more than words, but I’ll give you these anyway.

It all started in a blur. A passing glance, a conversation that felt like it was happening in its own dimension, a moment I didn’t realize would change the rest of my life. You weren’t like anyone I had ever met before. You didn’t try to impress me. You didn’t ask for anything. You just were. And somehow, that was already enough.

I was so used to living in a world where everything moved fast — cars, flights, headlines, pressure. But you slowed it all down without even trying. One look from you, and everything else quieted. You made space for the real me. The one no one sees. The one even I didn’t fully know until you came into my life.

You saw me before the world did. Before the podiums or the interviews or the flashes. You saw me when I was tired, when I was overthinking, when I was uncertain. And instead of walking away — you stayed. You always stayed.

Year one with you felt like magic. That kind of breathless, every-first-feels-like-fire magic. I didn’t know it was possible to fall for someone more every single day until I met you. Every walk we took. Every late-night talk. Every sleepy FaceTime from a hotel room halfway across the world. You were there. You made ordinary moments feel extraordinary. You made my life feel like something I wanted to be fully present in.

Year two tested us. Not in the way people always warn you about — no huge betrayal, no dramatic fight — but in the quieter, more challenging way: real life. Long distance. Time apart. Fatigue. Missed calls. Busy schedules. There were moments we questioned how to make it work, how to keep holding on when we barely had time to breathe. But we did. We held on. We fought for each other. And every time we chose each other again, we got stronger.

Year three — God, that year changed everything. That was when I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. It wasn’t a single moment, it was all of them. It was watching you talk to my mom like she was your own. It was seeing you light up while cooking dinner barefoot in the kitchen with music playing. It was you rubbing my back after a bad race without needing to say a word. It was how you looked at me like I was enough even on the days I didn’t feel like I was.

And now we’re here. Year four. The year I asked you to be my wife. I’ll never forget the way your eyes lit up when I got down on one knee. Or how your hands were shaking but your voice was steady when you said yes. It felt like the world tilted a little — and for the first time, everything was in its place.

You’ve taught me so much. About love. About patience. About grace. About who I want to be as a man, as a partner, as a future husband. You challenge me to be softer. Kinder. More present. You never let me hide behind walls, even when it’s easier. You remind me that being vulnerable is strength. And you love me — all of me — even the messy parts.

And that’s what I carry with me now, three days before our wedding. This overwhelming gratitude that I get to do life with you. That I get to call you mine. That in a world full of noise, I found peace in you.

I’ve been thinking about the moment the doors open and I see you walking toward me. I know I’ll probably cry (yes, go ahead and mark that down — Lance Stroll, emotional wreck incoming). I already get choked up thinking about your smile. The way your dress will fall. The way your eyes will lock onto mine, and the whole room will disappear.

Because when I look at you, everything else fades. You are my calm. My future. My home.

I know people look at our lives and see the glamor, the travel, the high speed everything — but they don’t see what I see. They don’t see you holding my hand in the dark. Or rubbing your thumb over mine when I’m anxious. Or falling asleep on my chest after a 14-hour flight just so we can have 2 days together before I leave again.

They don’t see the sacrifices you’ve made to be with me. The career opportunities you passed up. The holidays you spent waiting for me to come home. The patience you’ve shown every time I’ve had to put the sport first. You’ve given me a kind of love I didn’t think I deserved. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know just how much I value it — and you.

So here’s to us. To every step, every fall, every lesson. To four years of growing, learning, and building this love from the inside out. To the next chapter, the next adventure, the next forever.

I can't wait to meet you at the end of the aisle. To say the words I've been waiting my whole life to say:

"I do."

Forever yours,

– You’r Husband ❤

----

Note to my lovely followers:

So… I decided to try something a little different with this one!

Up until now, I’ve only written in third person, but I wanted to step out of my comfort zone and explore a more personal, intimate perspective — and honestly? I loved how it turned out. Writing this from Lance’s POV felt so raw and emotional, and made it feel even more real to me.

Let me know what you think — should I do more like this?

Thank you always for reading and supporting my little works !

Love you all!🩶

---

[solacescastleglow]

You're Not Lazy, You're: A Daydreamer

So, you're addicted to daydreaming, to the point where you're putting aside important real life things in favour of talking to yourself. You're sitting there, watching life pass you by, desperately trying to fill the void with people you made up in your head. Your outer life is starting to look less and less like how you thought it would be, and the worst part is, there's nothing and no one to blame.

I've been there. In fact, when I was 12, it was so bad I literally didn't care at all about my family, I had no friends, and my grades were abysmal, but I was convinced I would be fine because 'at least I have my mind'. What I didn't realise was that I had lost control of even that. Now I still daydream, but I've become much more able to cope, and I can work around it to the point it no longer affects my day-to-day life. What was maladaptive daydreaming has become immersive daydreaming. If you're in the same situation, here are a few tips to get out of that hole for good.

(Remember, this is much easier said than done, so don't feel bad if this doesn't start helping right away. Also, this is not a substitute for therapy.)

Less daydreaming

1. Eliminating the need

I'm gonna be honest, this is the hardest part. Your daydreaming came about for a reason; it's kept you alive and safe for all this time. Daydreaming is a coping mechanism. The problem comes when it becomes your only or primary coping mechanism, and your comfort zone becomes so small that you're using it all the time. Start with the negative things in your life that caused you to start daydreaming. What are they? How can they be mitigated or resolved? What are some other coping tools you can use to get through them? For me, a big part of the reason was unchangeable (untreatable illness), but some of it could have something done about it. I started medication for my mental health, switched schools, went to therapy. Am I cured? No. Did it take a long time? Yes. But was it worth it? Absolutely.

2. Attention span and comfort zone work

Now that your negative situation is ameliorated, it's time to work on getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. When you don't daydream after a certain amount of time or coming across a trigger, you start to get restless and irritable. You're, unfortunately, just going to have to sit in that emotion for a little bit. Just 5 minutes. If the trigger is media or a conversation topic, try your absolute hardest not to let your mind wander. After that 5 minutes or when the conversation is over, you can excuse yourself to go daydream. Doing this repeatedly will slowly make your brain able to go longer between daydreaming sessions, which means you can function better in your outer life.

3. Don't limit daydreaming, expand your outer life

If you're anything like me, the thought of stopping completely makes you panic. This isn't a great sign overall, but if you feel terrible whenever you don't escape, it disincentivises you from living your life. Instead, start surrounding yourself with people: spending every evening with your housemates, having an accountability partner for work, going on walks in public. The self consciousness alone is usually enough for me to not daydream, so basically I'm just giving myself less time to drift off. Bonus points if it's an activity that gets you where you want or need to go.

4. Grounding

I know, I know. It's uncomfortable when you know that's what you're doing. I personally hate the 54321 method. But you know what does work for me? This one TikTok (I can't find it) where the lady in the video tells you to look at the corner of the screen and tell what time it is, then asks questions like 'what's to the left of the screen?' and 'what are you wearing?' That snaps me right back to the present. The moment you notice yourself drifting off, look at a clock. Then look down at what you're wearing. Then take a second to describe what you're seeing to yourself and do some kind of tactile stimulation (rubbing your hands together or tapping your lap, for example).

More doing

1. Life direction audit

Your daydreams are clues to what you want out of life. Use them to guide how you want your outer life to go:

How does daydreaming make you feel? How can you emulate that without daydreaming?

Related to your daydream self's career, how does it make you feel to think of yourself getting paid to do that in your outer life? What steps can you take to get yourself there, or closer to it?

What can you do to cultivate friendships that are meaningful to you on the same level as your daydream friends? If you have outer friends, what's the most realistic scenario that would play out if you said, "I need more (support/connection/in-person time) out of this relationship"?

Are there any significant personal differences between your daydream self and your outer self? Are you a different gender, do you have a different style of dress, do you have any skills or hobbies you don't actually have? Is there anything that you would do, if only you had the [time/money/energy/certainty that this is the right thing to do/ability to get through hard things]?

Based on what you've written down, make a 10 year plan, then from that a 5 year plan, then from that a 1 year plan. Once you have your yearly plan you have options: split it up into quarters, months, weeks, or some other way. Either way, eventually you'll want to get it down to what you can do on a daily or even hourly basis to make your daydream self your reality.

2. Do it daydreaming, but do it

Now, do it. Sounds way easier than it is, but when I say do it, I mean do it any way you can. Do it upset, complaining, bored, frustrated, scared, badly, adapted to fit your abilities, in a way other people think is weird, crying the whole time, late, embarrassed, inconsistently, from your bed. Do it partway, then decide you want something else out of life. Do it when it's easy, and if you really want it, do it when it's hardest. Do something similar to it if what you want is unattainable. You can even do it with one foot in your daydream world.

As long as you're trying to do what makes you happy (and I mean the real kind of happy, not the kind that's always tinged with the grief that it's all in your head), any amount of effort you put into it is worthwhile.

3. Incentives

I was going to say to follow your plan and not your mood, but that's really hard. What you need is to find a way to make yourself follow that plan happily. For me, that's setting difficult monthly challenges for myself and getting rewards if I complete them. The challenge makes me want to do it because I want to prove my inner critic wrong. Do whatever works for you, because even if it sounds silly, it's not silly if it works.

4. Check ins

Every so often, re-evaluate where you're going. I know I just said to do it bored and frustrated, but if the whole thing is boring and frustrating and there are no upsides, don't keep at it. Check that you're actually happy with the direction your life is going.

---

And that's all I have for you. Remember, daydreaming can still be a healthy part of your life, it's the inability to stop it that's the problem. You can learn to balance it. I believe in you.

[valardohaeriss]

Picture you 2 - C.S

It's me again...and I'm back. Anyways here we go with part two. just ask if you want to be a part of the tag list.

pairing: Modern Cregan Stark x fem!Reader

warnings: none

"Do you picture me like I picture you?"

------------------

"So tell me about this guy that you want to ask you to formal." Cregan asks as he lays on your bed and throws a ball up at the ceiling. You sat at your desk, distracting yourself with homework, something Cregan should be doing. You closed your eyes at his question, hoping to find a quick lie.

"I mean, he's cool." was all you could squeeze out. Cool? that was it. C'mon, if you were going to lie, you have to think of a better one than that. "Cool?" Cregan asked with a cocked eyebrow as he sat himself up. You could feel his stare in the back of your head. You turned to look at him and threw one arm over the back of the chair. The minute you looked at him, all of the adjectives you needed came to your mind.

"Fine, he's smart, very smart. He doesn't give himself enough credit for it. He's tall, He's kind, even though he probably doesn't think of himself that way. He's the type of person that if you didn't have anything, he'd give you the shirt off of his own back." You said in one breath. It didn't take much for you to describe your feelings for Cregan.

He looked at you, shocked at your feelings. He didn't know you felt this strongly about someone. He didn't even really know you liked people like that. "Wow." was all he could say. You rolled your eyes and turned around. "What's his name?" He asked you.

You clenched the pen in your hand, mentally cursing yourself. "Does it matter?" you asked. "He doesn't feel the same way, I really should just drop it. I'll just go to formal for Baela. It was her idea anyway." you continued on. Cregan threw the ball at your back in a playful manner. "What was that for?" you turned around and asked him. All he could do was chuckle and cross his arms. "We're going to get him to ask you out. You don't know how he feels about you. Trust me, I know guys. He's probably thinking the same thing you are. You just have to talk to him."

Boy he was not making this any easier. If he looked close enough at you, you swore he could have either seen a vein in your head or your eye twitch. "Cregan, please. Drop it. I'll just stick with Baela the whole time."

"You can't stick with Baela, Baela will be with Jace." he stated, and he had a point. How were you going to be looking for the mystery guy, when the mystery guy himself was sitting on your bed. "I know what I'll do," he started. "I'll get Jace to help me out. We'll get you this guy on a date in no time."

You could have thrown up. He was already pulling out his phone to text Jace about it. Now not only did you spin this little lie, you've spun it into a web with people. The only thing was you had no idea how to get out.

Baela...

Yes Baela would help you. She was your ride or die, and surely she'd know what to do.

"Hey, look, I'll see you later. Jace and I are going to meet up. He said something about Baela coming over here anyways so I'll let you have your time with her. But seriously, you should keep me updated on this guy. You won't be single for long." he winks at you and you could have melted.

"Idiot"...you thought. "You smart, handsome, kind man...but what an idiot"

----

"So you mean to tell me... you spun this little lie, and you expect me to help you out of it?" Baela asks you as you just explained your situation with Cregan, that has at this point, gone a little too far. "Baela, please, he plans on getting Jace in on this too and I don't know how to explain that the person they have been looking for this whole time has been Cregan himself." you sighed and cradled your head in your hands.

"You should have just been honest with him. Why weren't you?" she asked, pulling your arms away from you. "Because I know he doesn't feel the same. So I might as well get over it now. I'm trying, but now I'm stuck. I wish I would have just not said anything at all." You groaned. Truly, you wish you would had just said you weren't going to go and everything was fine and left it at that. Then you wouldn't be here. But no, you ran your mouth, getting a bit too comfortable.

"How about, I find out how he actually feels and we ease our way into this. I'll be your actual wingwoman." She smiled at you and for a second, you had hope that this would all be resolved. You could get over Cregan and continue on like nothing ever happened.

---

Baela sat next to Jace and Cregan at the dining hall. Cregan and Jace were having their typical conversations as usual, until Jace had to leave for his next class, that left him and Baela together. Now washer chance to move forward. "Cregan? What's this I hear about you helping y/n get a date to formal?"

Cregan smirked and stopped packing his things. "Yeah, she told me about this guy that she likes, and she must really like him. I mean she smiles every time she talks about him. She just won't tell me what his name is or anything. She thinks he doesn't feel the same, but she said he was going to be at the formal, so I was planning on finding him and talking to him myself. A wingman kind of thing, ya know?" He beamed, proud of his plan.

Baela tried hard not to drop her smile. She could not believe this guy. How could he not know it was him. "How do you feel about that?" She asked him. He hadn't been asked that before and it caused his brows to furrow. "I don't think I'm following?"

"How do you feel knowing that you're helping her find someone else?" Baela smirked. Cregan hadn't thought about it. He was more concerned with helping you be happy than he was his own feelings. He cared about you, and if helping you find someone else made you happy, then he'd do it. "Baela, this isn't about me." He deflected as he started to pack his things.

"Cregan, have you talked to Jace about her? I mean about how you feel about her?" She asked him. He hadn't, he hadn't told anyone. It didn't matter to him, he knew you didn't feel the same way. Clearly, to him, you were on the hunt for someone else. Someone that obviously made you smile bigger than he ever has.

His silence answered Baela's question. "I think you need to talk to her before formal. You have two days. I would do it. Don't let this go on any further." She advised him. Cregan shook his head not taking her advice. To his knowledge, you didn't bat an eye at him. He wasn't going to let his feelings get in the way of your happiness, that would be selfish. That is something he was not.

"I'm serious, Cregan. It's worth the shot." Baela said one last time before leaving for home. Cregan had a lot to think about. Did he tell you how he felt? Did he ruin his friendship with you for the sake of feelings? Did he block your happiness with someone else for the sake of his own? He couldn't. So he wouldn't.

[nocturnalrat]

Hear me out…

1610! Miles comforting reader after she get jealous because of how much he’s been around Gwen and he’s just touching and kissing her in all the right places and makes sure that reader knows that he loves her and only her 🙈💕

Thank you for the great prompt! I had lots of fun writing this. :p <3

---

It was truly infuriating.

You hadn’t seen each other in a week due to school work keeping you busy, and there had been a surge of criminal activities in New York, which is why Miles had been occupied most of the time as well.

And now, when the two of you were finally able to hang out again, he kept talking about someone else entirely.

You were lying on the bunk bed in his dorm room, listening to him ramble on about the adventures he had lived through last week.  

“You should have been there, the way Gwen incapacitated the guy was like something out of a movie.” He gesticulated frantically with his hands as he vividly described last night’s care chase.

"That sounds really fascinating," you grumbled.

After hearing your unfazed (and slightly sarcastic) tone, he looked up from his chair. "You don't sound very impressed, though."

How could you have told him that his constant stories and songs of praise about Gwen were starting to annoy the heck out of you?

Jealousy was an ugly emotion. To confess to it was shameful, exposing; you wanted to be the easy-going, cool and confident kind of girlfriend, but Miles was making it really hard for you to not seethe with anger and discontent.

"Everything okay?" he asked, and you avoided his gaze. Lying was easier when you didn’t look him into his eyes. They always were too honest and seemed to notice too much.

"Sure," you said.

He saw through your charade immediately, and climbed onto the bunk bed to be closer to you.  "There's something bothering you. I can tell."

"You can't tell shit," you said before you could stop yourself. There was anger in the pits of your stomach threatening to take over.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Yes.

"No."

"Then why are you frowning like that? It looks like you’re ready to kill someone. It better not be me."

Fuck. Were you really scowling that obviously?

"You and Gwen get along great, huh?”

"We certainly do." He tilted his head. You recognized that look on his face – it was the same one he had when struggling to solve complicated math problems. "Why’d you bring her up?"

"Why do you keep bringing her up?" you snarled. "We weren’t able to have a single conversation in the last few weeks without you mentioning her a dozen times. Not to mention the fact that you spend way more time with her than you do with your actual girlfriend.”

Shoot. Now you had done it; you had shown weakness.

Miles stared at you incredulously. "Wait a minute - are you jealous?"

You crossed your arms and looked pointedly at the ceiling.

"Absolutely not."

"Nuh-huh. That's why you're pouting." He grinned, and his lighthearted reaction only intensified the nauseating feeling of jealousy. "You know, part of me wishes you could come with us when we're patrolling, just so you could witness how much I talk about you when I'm with Gwen. But the other part of me is terrified of you being with us, as it would be incredibly dangerous for a civilian.”

"Yeah." Biting sarcasm. "I'm sure that's what you talk to her about."

"It is!" He scrambled over to you and leaned in close. "You don't have the faintest idea how important you are to me, do you?

"Can’t be that important, judging by your behavior.”

"Not that important!" he repeated indignantly. "I think about you all the time. How you're doing, what you're doing, if you need anything - always. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep!"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it,” you mumbled.

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?” He brushed an unruly strand of hair from your forehead, and the gentleness of his touch loosened the knot in your stomach the jealousy had caused. You had only recently started dating, so every little touch of his felt all the more exciting.  

You looked at him, and his wide eyes were filled with worry.

“Do you guys have to hang out so much?” you asked reluctantly. “How would you feel if I suddenly spent all of my time with an attractive guy who was single?”

He furrowed his brows. “Well, I wouldn’t be thrilled,” he began slowly. Then he shook his head. “Okay, scratch that, I’d be really pissed.”

You almost laughed. He was just like you.

“Then you know exactly how I feel.”

He kissed the corner of your mouth. "You really have no idea, do you?"

The almost-kiss had distracted you, and it took a moment for you to reply. “No idea about what?” you asked, a little breathless.

"About the things I'd do to make you happy." With a tender gesture, he took your face in his hand and caressed your cheek. "I love you more than anything in this world." The kiss that followed made any doubt you had disappear in an instant. He was telling the truth, that much was evident. “Next time, you can just straight up tell me what’s bothering you. Although I have to say, I kind of like it when you’re acting all jealous and cute.”

“Fuck off,” you said, but it was with a smile. You playfully tried to push him off of you, but he buried his face in your neck.

He was stronger than you, and his weight was pressing against you in a way that made it impossible for you to escape. Not that you wanted to - not when his lips had found your neck and left a sensation so new and good that you couldn't help but let out a sigh of contentment.

“I love you,” he said, His voice was so full of affection that it warmed your heart. “Only you. Always you. I won’t be patrolling with her as much in the future, I promise.”

At times, you wondered how someone as great as him had ended up with someone like you. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmered with an amber-like hue; the smile that graced his face was a breathtaking image.

He appeared radiant in the sunlight, and in his presence, you felt a profound sense of peace and trust overcome you.

[tonicandjins]

all of the girls you loved before

CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | haechan x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 3k

GENRE: best friends to lovers, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

WARNINGS: none, just fluff

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this has been in my drafts for way too long. hope you like it! please consider donating/tipping me

all of the girls you loved before is the fourth installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

lee naeun, June 2013 - July 2013

Lee Donghyuck’s first love turned out to be the quickest one.

It was a whirlwind romance, like how he would describe it whenever you’d ask him. At thirteen, you and Donghyuck were finally catching up to the rest of your homeroom’s growing pains—both literally and figuratively. Your legs were longer now, albeit Donghyuck’s becoming longer than almost everyone else’s, and you were prettier than most. Letting your bangs grow was a wise decision in the summer, after all. Long gone were your chubby cheeks and you’d learned how to put on some lip tint before jumping on the bus to school. The internet was a better teacher when it comes to styling your hair; you’d never expected hairstyles come with face shapes. Meanwhile, Donghyuck, though his cheeks are still as round as they were in primary school, has learned that the hugs and kisses he used to give everyone in homeroom erupted butterflies all over.

You’d wondered, of course, because among everyone in class, Donghyuck’s probably given you the most hugs and kisses, yet you haven’t quite figured out what they meant when they say he gives people butterflies.

In the same year, Donghyuck learned consent. His mother and father gave him a lecture on why kissing people randomly isn’t ideal at his age and why consent is important. Hence, he’d stopped giving everyone random kisses. The last one he’d kissed you on the cheek was a week before summer started—not that you were keeping a record of all the stolen kisses—right when you were about to jump off the bus you and him were on.

Lee Naeun gave the first consent at thirteen. On the last day of classes.

She was moving to the US the next school year. Donghyuck made you wait by the benches as she packed up her duffel back after soccer practice.

She was taller than everyone else. Sporty and ambitious, Lee Naeun was every boy’s kryptonite. Just like how Lee Donghyuck was every girl’s.

“Can I kiss you?” Donghyuck asked. Naeun blushed like crazy. She was taller than Donghyuck, so when she’d nodded, Donghyuck had to go on his tip toes to reach her lips.

You looked away when Donghyuck got his first real kiss, wondering if the sudden pain in your stomach is the same as the butterflies that people get when Donghyuck kisses them.

kim haerin, August 2016 - January 2018

Kim Haerin was Donghyuck’s girlfriend all throughout junior high school.

Contrary to popular belief, Haerin pursued Donghyuck from the first week of classes. You and Donghyuck had moved to a different school after middle school as the one in your hometown didn’t focus much on arts, leaning towards STEM more, which, if you and Donghyuck were being honest, is the last thing you’d want to do in high school. This also meant that you and Donghyuck were new in town—the new girl and the new guy—and that people your age were particularly curious about you and Donghyuck that school year.

Oddly enough, the first thing they needed to confirm was whether you and him were dating. As soon as it was a clear no, you and Donghyuck received flowers left and right. You wondered whether this is what high school should be like and expected Donghyuck to feel the same, but that school year was different. The people liked the extroverted, friends with everybody Donghyuck, so it was easier for him to adjust to the new place and the new people.

They’d started dating the week after school started. Haerin was a part of a big group, the ones who’d studied in the school’s sister middle school down the road, and she knew everyone. She was nice, or so you’ve heard because you didn’t have that many conversations with her to confirm if she truly is, and she’d say hi to you when you passed by her by the lockers.

Donghyuck tried to take you with him whenever they’d hang out, of course, but his attempts could only do much because you weren’t into the same things as they were. Eventually, you’d found your own group and adjusted to the new school all by yourself. It made you worry about Donghyuck less whenever you’d see him all happy and loud like the person he is. While Donghyuck’s name stuck with Haerin’s all throughout high school, yours remain independent. You’d decided you’d start dating when you’re ready.

The only times you’d see each other, apart from the classes you shared, were weekends with your families. You and him talk, of course. Donghyuck at home is different from Donghyuck at school. But it was different. The memories of you and him going to and from school gradually blurred between all the people you’d met in high school.

Kim Haerin broke up with Donghyuck as soon as you all came back from Christmas break on the last year of junior high. She’d started dating the new guy from the other class who transferred all the way from Germany. She’d given Donghyuck a kiss in the middle of the empty gymnasium and told him she’d loved him but the sparks were gone.

Donghyuck waited with you on the bus stop that same day. To this day, he waits with you.

im jieun, November 2019 – December 2019

Im Jieun was one of a kind, and if you could pick, she was your favorite from Donghyuck’s long list of lovers.

She was a couple of years older than you and Donghyuck. How Donghyuck even got the slimmest chance of dating her, you have no idea. She was a freshman in college. You and Donghyuck met her at one of your seniors’ birthday party; they’d hit it off easily. They had the same personality, almost like twins, and were pretty much the perfect couple in your newly found friend group.

That year was the most life changing for him because Donghyuck lost his virginity with her, and for quite some time, similar to when he’d dated Kim Haerin, he disappeared from your life, and not that you’d cared at much at that time because you were also dating your first boyfriend, Na Jaemin.

Jaemin was everything a first boyfriend should be. Gentle and sweet, determined and future-driven, truly the kind you’d want your parents to meet. He’s been in the same class as you since junior high, but he wasn’t the kind to approach women that easily. He was brought up loyal and kind, and it showed with the way he treated you. He asked you out on a dinner for the first date, at an amusement park for the second, and a picnic by the park for the third—which was the same day he officially asked you as his girlfriend.

When Donghyuck had learned, he was as surprised as a best friend would be.

“You never told me you liked Jaemin,” he commented when you’d told him the news. He was sitting on the swivel gaming chair you and him bought as pairs right beside your bed, where you were still half asleep because he barged in at seven on a Sunday morning. Apparently, he learned it because he saw Jaemin’s Instagram story from your date with him last night.

“Because I didn’t,” you groggily replied. You squinted, trying to make up your mind whether Donghyuck’s a dream or not. “I mean, I like him now. But it didn’t occur to me until he started asking me out for dates.”

Donghyuck leaned his head against your chair, kicking his feet off the floor to spin himself around. “You never even told me you went out on dates.”

You giggled. “Are you sulking now, Donghyuck?”

He sighed. “I tell you all about the girls I date. Even the ones I dream on dating. And this one time you finally decided to start dating, I wasn’t there for you.”

You sat up, watching as your child-like best friend spins himself dizzy on your chair. “Check your phone. Every time Jaemin and I went out, I texted you.”

He sighed again, pressing his foot on your bedroom’s floor, stopping so he could look at you eye to eye. “You didn’t tell me it was a date. You said you were having dinner with him, going to the amusement with him, and hanging out with him at the park.”

“We’re 19,” you pointed out. “What would 19-year olds do alone together?”

Donghyuck tilted his head sideways. “You and I are always alone together.”

“It’s different.” You throw a pillow at Donghyuck, kicking off the blanket from your body and moving to give him some space to lay on. “Come here, you big baby.”

Donghyuck’s mouth formed into a pout but occupied the space on your bed anyway.

“I’m a big girl,” you reminded him as he rested his head on your chest. “I don’t need you to be there for me on my first relationship.”

“Ouch,” he mumbled.

“I will always need you in my life, Donghyuck,” you clarified, knowing well how Donghyuck hates being not needed. “Just, not for this one. I might actually, truly like Jaemin. He’s a good guy.”

Donghyuck hummed. “But I’m still your best friend, right?”

You laughed. Because it’s the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. Donghyuck will always be your best friend. You were certain no relationship would break that. You and him were past being insecure about your friendship.

“Always.”

Donghyuck broke up with Jieun before Christmas break. The reason, you have no idea. But he’d told you it wasn’t as fun as it was in the beginning anymore. And Jieun was in university, after all, and you and him had SATs to pass and college essays to ace before the school year ends.

You and Jaemin took him out for clubbing that night, in hopes of cheering him up. It was a mystery to you why he’d suddenly decided to end it when the relationship seemed like it was smooth-sailing. They’d even talk about Donghyuck going to the same university as Jieun next year. You didn’t recall any fights within the relationship, so you wonder why.

Donghyuck leaves the club without you and Jaemin.

lee naeun (again), February 2020 – April 2020

Donghyuck learned from Lee Jeno that his first love returned from the US to take her bachelor’s degree in Seoul on Valentine’s day. He found her wandering around SNU’s main lobby on the first day of the spring semester. You and Donghyuck were visiting the university after receiving your acceptance letters, looking for an apartment to share. Jaemin was going to another university, so it wasn’t wise for you and him to move in together, hence Donghyuck offered to move in with you to save up some money for rent and other expenses.

Lee Naeun stood there, still taller than Donghyuck, still the first person who ever kissed Donghyuck’s lips, still the first person you’d ever compared yourself to, wondering what she had that you didn’t.

Like the day they kissed in 2013, you looked away when Donghyuck finally reached to where she stood, wondering why, all of a sudden, many years later, the butterflies were flying all over in your stomach once again.

ginny williams, September 2020 – October 2020

Of course, the first woman that Donghyuck officially dated in university is from the UK. Jeno said he only dated her to show everyone he’s immensely improved in English.

The break-up was proof Donghyuck never improved in English. He didn’t even understand why she was breaking up with him.

park yesol, September 2021 – February 2022

You introduced Donghyuck to Park Yesol because it’s what she wanted for her birthday.

She had invited you to her 21st birthday. You and her, if you were being honest, barely know each other. You only shared a class in Literature once, so at first, it was a mystery to you why she suddenly invited you. When she’d asked if you could ask Donghyuck to RSVP with you, you’d known that it’s all she wanted from you.

Eventually, they’d start dating. Donghyuck, at that time, had been single for almost a year. He thought he convinced you that college was finally catching up on him hence he’d put a stop to his “demanding” dating life. However, Donghyuck is your best friend, and you could see right through him. You knew he liked someone he wasn’t willing to share with you, and he was probably working up the courage to ask that person out, which, when you thought about it, was new. Donghyuck was cunning and ambitious and he knew what he wanted and how to get it. He was never one to shy away from the people he liked, so it was a little suspicious that it took him almost a year to start dating again. You did not figure out who he liked, and you knew he’d only started dating Yesol to get you to shut up about it.

You and him knew it wasn’t a serious relationship because Yesol was dating other guys while she’d dated him. Donghyuck told you it felt like the relationship was just for sex because of his oozing sex appeal; you’d thrown a cushion at him when he’d said that.

Meanwhile, you and Jaemin were almost at pointbreak.

You didn’t want to spend Valentine’s Day being uncertain of the relationship would go, so you broke up with him on the first day of February. Jaemin had gotten an internship in Japan a few months ago, and the company that hired him liked him so much that they wanted to keep him while he finishes his degree virtually. You wished you could say the same, that you loved him so much you also wanted to keep him.

It was finally catching up to you and him, the distance. So, it was better you’d break it off before you and him start failing subjects just to keep a relationship steady.

Two and a half years together wasn’t enough. You and Jaemin wanted to spend the rest of your college years, at least, together. But like he said the night you’d ended it: it wasn’t worth it if it was compromising your mental health and studies. You’d cried so much that night, and you wondered if Donghyuck pretended he couldn’t hear you sobbing from the other side of the apartment.

Come Valentine’s Day, Donghyuck asked you to dress up, throwing a paper bag at you.

The place he “luckily scored” a reservation from, on a busy, fully-booked Valentine’s night, was nice. It was romantic and you were flushed and giddy from all the wine and all of the Donghyuck.

“Why are you here with me and not with Yesol?” you’d asked after the waiter filled your glass.

Donghyuck smiled at you. “I broke up with her two weeks ago.” Around the same time you did with Jaemin. “I figured if my best friend would be miserable on Valentine’s day, I should be, too.”

You laughed. “Well, you don’t look too miserable for a newly single man.”

“I’m not,” he confessed. “I’m never miserable when I have you.”

You reached out one hand, palm facing Donghyuck. He intertwined his hand with yours. And it fit perfectly. Just like the dress he got you.

your name, June 2022 – present (or alternately, sometime in 2005 – forever.)

“Lee Naeun, Kim Haerin, Im Jieun, Lee Naeun again, then Park Yesol,” you enumerate. “You were a ladies’ man!”

Donghyuck whines, begging you to stop as you go through his things in his room, particularly the notes and letters from the girls he’d dated.

You and him are moving out. Graduation is just around the corner, and you and Donghyuck decided to move on to a better place. Your boyfriend got a job in one of the biggest companies in his industry, while you’re yet to find yours.

“Don’t forget Ginny Williams,” he teases, throwing you a love letter from the bunch.

“You did not date Ginny Williams, Donghyuck. It was an illusion,” you scoff. “Tell me one conversation you had with her. A real one.”

“I swear to God, she loved me,” he answers. “Stop playing around and help me in here.”

You stand from the carpeted floor and walk towards Donghyuck as he sorts out the things from his study desk. Donghyuck starts with the tower of books and folders, organizing them alphabetically as he carefully places them on the box labeled as books. The other box is labeled as essentials; hence you start throwing his headphones and speakers and its chargers in. While doing so, you get a hold of a small box that contains what you thought were miscellaneous items mixed in with trash, until you realize what’s inside.

There are a few polaroid pictures of you and him from high school, including a picture of you and him on your high school’s graduation day, some receipts from, now you recognize, the places you’d gone to. There’s a receipt from when you and him took the subway to visit a museum at the other side of the country back in 2018, another from Valentines day 2022, when you and him celebrated being newly single, the old ticket from your senior prom when he’d gone with you, and so many more that you could recognize just from its dates.

“Donghyuck,” you whisper as you look at the box of memories. Donghyuck turns, eyes wide when he recognizes the box you’re holding. “Where… where should I put these?”

Donghyuck loved many girls in his life. You can recall their names in the order of when he’d dated them. You had your favorites and the ones you didn’t like that much. Some of your friends wonder if you’ve ever been insecure knowing you weren’t the first kiss or the first person he had sex with and if you were okay with knowing all of that. You weren’t the first and you wish you’d be the last. The only thing you’re certain of, is that he had always loved you, and that alone erases all the other thoughts.

If you could say so, you’re thankful for all of the girls he loved before because they made him the one you’d fallen for. Every dead-end street led him straight to you.

He smiles. “Essentials.”

[eclipseberrycake]

The World Behind the Frames

AN: This isn't Moonberrycake, I know, I know, I accidentally tripped and added lore to my polycule. I wanted to expand on my world building because I want to kind of explain what's going on in my head when I'm writing about that world, if it makes sense? I don't know. I'm out of ideas for Moonberrycake for now and needed to fulfill an itch.

This is still Distractor Toon! Reader, who is based off my OC in all actuality, and probably who I'll pair with Moonberrycake to keep continuity. Makes thing easier for me, for you and for all our new friends!

The first memory you have is less of a visible thing. There was no stark imagery you could describe or backgrounds. You weren't even confident where it occurred to be honest.

But you could remember the feelings that surrounded you. The feeling of a bone chilling coolness freezing your newly developed joints and flesh, wrapping around you and squeezing until is was quieted by a warm covering. It gently scrubbed at your furry arms and legs, drying your damp fluff as you withered about. The smell of what you would later recognize as Ichor wafted around the area as the rushing hum of machines deafened you. The only thing you could recall being spoken were murmurs from a feminine voice, just loud enough to break through the churning of gears.

"-not a main...No handler-...Throw them with the commons-"

It was never something you lingered on. And you wouldn't. Not until much, much later in your strangely short, yet long life.

Walking along the hallways, you kept a steady pace before the foyer to Gardenview came into view. It was bustling with workers and the other toons, all in preparation for opening. You, yourself, were tasked with fetching a few bits and bobs for the handlers, eyes scanning for said individuals. They were probably with the Mains, preparing them for the day to come. There were a few events occurring live today, which were what the objects were for and why you were sent. You were quick and fast and could get there and back before opening.

Spotting Sam, you ran up to them, slowing when you heard them talking with...Sprout, you think his name was. You rarely interacted with the Mains, much less Sprout, so you didn't know much about him. You preferred it that way, that's for certain. The Mains seemed conceited at times, especially Vee who made her disdain for your lack of extensive knowledge on her gameshow known, so you kept your distance; you were much better friends with Goob and Scraps in the crafting area anyway.

Watching slowly, you watched Sprout talk with his handler, who looked irritated as they went on about some form of safety concern. He noticed you first, blinking in surprise at your appearance.

Sam was going on and on about something or another regarding the baking segment he was set to host with Cosmo later that day when he spotted you. You were a skittish little thing, if he remembered correctly. You never stuck around long, doing what was tasked of you before continuing on your way. You were something like a mail carrier around Gardenview, always rushing to somewhere new. He was honestly surprised to see you stationary for so long and it had been maybe a minute.

You were a cute little thing. You were shorter than he was, but everyone was so that wasn't saying much. He dared a little wave, which seemed to stun you as you blinked before shaking your head, giving a much smaller wave back.

"What are you looking at-?!" Sam snapped, turning to face your direction, which made you freeze like one of those deer he'd seen in movies. "Oh, it's you, Y/N."

Sprout had to gape at the change in Sam's attitude. They seemed so relieved to see you! This was favoritism. He swears. Sam even seems happy to see you as you slowly inch forward, holding out the package of goods you were sent to retrieve. Sam thanks you with a hand ruffling your hair before asking if you have anywhere else to be. You nod, explaining that Austin needed something as well. Austin was Astro's handler if Sprout remembered correctly, who was probably busy trying to convince said Toon that he had to make an appearance for their show in the sky dome later.

"Thank you again, at least one toon isn't giving me any issues." Sam huffs, throwing a look at Sprout-who sticks his tongue out. You watch it with a grin, waving good-bye before taking off once more.

It's the holiday season at Gardenview, with decorations everywhere and even more toons than usual. Coal was lounging beneath the large tree in the center plaza, barely casting you a glance, while Bobette and Dandy stood at the entrance, eagerly awaiting opening so they could greet the children. Bobette is quick to direct you to where she last saw Austin, wishing you luck as the doors finally open and in comes a see of children and parents alike. You thank her before taking off again, narrowly missing Pebble.

It takes you some time, but you do eventually find the shy duo backstage. Astro is hiding in a blanket as Austin tries to coax him out, his voice soft and gentle. "I promise it'll be here soon. I sent the fastest toon for it-"

"Pebble drools!" Astro shouts from his cocoon of solitude, seeming absolutely distraught.

"The fastest, besides Pebble."

You realize they're talking about you. So you make your appearance known, holding out the soft purple fabric to Austin. He visibly relaxes at the sight, which makes two handlers now. Austin practically sings your praises as he takes the fabric, rushing back to where Astro is hiding. You debate leaving, but watch as one of Astro's hand darts out, grabbing the cape before retreating. There's a bit of shuffling before the first blanket is being discarded and Astro is slowly standing, casting a shy glance your way before quickly looking away.

"It was in the laundry room." You offer with a smile, nodding behind you. Austin had begged you to keep an eye out for it, which you took personally and went out of your way to look for. You know some of the janitors didn't pay any mind to what they were cleaning, just grabbing it and cleaning it accordingly.

Astro swallows at the new information, the fresh smell of laundry finally registering as he backed away from the edge of a panic attack. The fact that you went out of your way to grab it for him, without even a hint of the why to it all, was not lost on him. His fingers curled around the edge of the blanket as he kept his second set of arms curled tightly around his abdomen, watching. He would remember your kindness, filing it away for later. He would pay it back, he swears.

He tries to thank you, he does, but the words get stuck in his throat, drying on his tongue. They refuse to leave and he's forced to once again clamp his mouth shut. Eventually he hopes to get over this. He knows who you are, you've both met if only briefly, and you were just as friendly and selfless then, full of smiles and laughter.

You don't seem to fear anything, running around like a mouse in the background on a near constant basis. He had never seen you stand still and almost envied you for it. You almost seemed like a never ending ball of energized fuzz.

The thought made him hide a grin in the fur of his blanket.

Austin gave you a final thanks before moving back to smooth out Astro's cape, and you were off once more.

"...Can they come?" Astro found himself asking, leaning over Austin's shoulder to watch the doorway you came through.

"Come where?"

"To the skydome." Astro swallows. "I-...I think they'd like it."

You don't hear their conversation after you leave, instead trotting back to the costume area. You and Poppy were assigned to help the children in the photo area dress up as their favorite characters while Boxten helped them take pictures. It made the time pass by quickly and you loved seeing the children smile in their Scraps headbands or replicas of Flutter's wings.

You were just straightening out a little girl's bow, which she chose to look like Poppy, when the first shrill scream rung out. There was silence before more screams. You looked back at Poppy, who looked just as concerned as you did. Parents then came storming in, scooping their children up and running out as the lights began flashing red, an alarm screaming in the air.

You, Poppy and Boxten worked to ensure the children in your care found their parents, directing them to the nearest exit just as you were instructed to do.

"Go! We got it from here!" Boxten shouted at you, pointing to the hall that lead to the Foyer. "Check on everyone else! You're faster than we are!"

You nodded and took off once more, feet pounding against the ground as you tried to help everywhere you could. When you finally got to the heart of the foyer, you were horrified at the state it was in. That and the beast now charging at you. It looked like Dandy, only with much sharper teeth, and claws out reached for you. His red eyes shined brightly as they locked onto you, quickly taking after you. You swallowed before turning tail and taking off into the staff wing. There were no children or families there, and if meant you or the children, you would rather it be you every time.

Unfortunately, that rest of that night was clouded by the sounds of you choking on your own ichor as Dandy pinned you. And then nothing.

Blinking, you shake your head, letting a heavy breath out as you curl into yourself tighter. Remembering the day it all went wrong never failed to make your chest absolutely ache, but it never left you alone. Not during your time as a twisted, and not after. Even now, with more of you back since it happened, it seemed your subconscious was having a blast mix and matching the horrors you have seen since Gardenview closed and haunting you whenever sleep had graced you. Astro had tried his hardest to help, which you appreciated, but he can't stop everything. Some are bound to slip through the cracks.

Tonight seemed to be one of those nights.

Sitting out on the balcony, you let the cool night breeze blow through your fuzz as you try to recover from the latest nightmare. It was from your limited time as a twisted.

The only ones to escape the carnage were Poppy and Boxten, who took it upon themselves to help the rest of you. They trekked floor after floor until they completed the first completion of research and you were returned to your normal self. From there, you three learned and tested. You carved your way through the bad times, and the worst times, healing each other when the bite marks and claw marks were too painful to heal on their own. You still had the scars, carefully covered with clothing and fur. You wanted it to remain that way.

You had grown experienced enough in your role as a distractor, moreso with the aid of trinkets, enough so that there were no longer days patches of fuzz were burnt, torn or ripped off. They would remain hidden.

You huffed another breath, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. You had done such harm because you were so...angry. So hurt. You couldn't see straight while under the ichor, that much you could remember, charging at anything that so much as moved in your line of sight. You'd chase and chase and chase them down, breaking through boxes if they tried to hide. It was awful looking back. You were thankful no one else had that power, but the fact that you had it was enough to leave you fearing your own strength.

"Starlight?"

You perked up from where you were hiding your face between your knees and chest, turning behind you. Astro was there, one hand on the doorway while another scratched at his chin. His other two arms were crossed across his waist, either to brace himself against the cold or just where he wanted them to sit. You weren't sure yet.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" You're quick to apologize, turning more fully to face him. He shook his head, though judging by the bags under his eyes, he was either lying or out here for the same reason you were.

"Why are you out here, starlight? There's a chill." He's quick to come up behind you, wrapping the arms that were crossed around you while the other two settle on your shoulders. He scans your face as he does this, noting your red eyes and puffy cheeks. Immediately he's frowning, one of the hands on your shoulders coming up to cup your cheek. "You had a bad dream."

"These things happen, moonshine. They're out of your control." You're quick to reassure, cupping the hand on your cheek with your own as you burrow into it.

"Are they? I'm in charge of dreams around here, you know." His forehead leaned on yours as he tightened the hold around your waist. "You can tell me."

You took a slow breath. "I just keep thinking back to my time as a Twisted. I don't think any amount of good dream juice is enough to stop those memories." You admit slowly. "I'm sorry. I should be over it by now. I was one of the first cured, but I just-... I could destroy those large crates, you know." You tell him. There's no other reaction he heard you other than the slow move of his thumb along your hip, so you continue. "No one could hide from me. The second you caught my attention, the chase was on. The only way to lose me was to hope I was stunned by charging the crates long enough you could hide before I saw you again."

Astro hums at this, but you're continuing on anyway.

"I was-...Am terrified of what I'm capable. I know that if I get caught like that again, it's not just Poppy and Boxten taking the brunt of it. It's- It's you and Sprout and Cosmo and-"

"Do you remember the day the outbreak happened?" Astro suddenly cut in, making you pause. It's an odd question, but you nod to the best of your abilities anyway. Astro takes a moment to step back, jumping up to sit on the balcony beside you with one arm around your waist while the other on the same side plays with your hair.

"Do you remember what you were doing?"

"I was in costume."

"Before that."

You take a moment, sorting through the soured memories of that day before ultimately coming up short. Astro seems to expect this as he continues right after. "You were running errands. The second we were woken that day, it seemed you were constantly moving. I didn't see you until later that day. I had misplaced my cloak that day." He explains, waving one of his free hands as he does. "I was in the middle of a total breakdown as I didn't want the others to know of...Well, you know." It manages to make you crack a grin, which he smiles at before continuing. "Then you show up. You didn't immediately call for Austin's attention, but I saw you the moment you stepped in."

You let out a chuckle. "Weren't you scared Pebbles would drool on your cloak?"

He laughs at this, but nods. "It's happened before. Leaves the fabric all...tough. But when I saw you? Especially with cloak in hand?" The hand on your waist pulls you in closer. "I thought I finally met my guardian angel. "

This time you let out a cackle, leaning on his shoulder. "Be so for real."

"I am!" He waves off your cackles, allowing you to settle. "I wanted to bring you to the Sky dome, you know. Asked Austin and everything, but never got the chance."

"Such a shame. I would've loved to go."

"I never said it's too late." Astro slides off the balcony, holding out a hand to you. "I know the code to the projector room. Would you care to accompany me?" He grins. "The other two are still passed out."

You take his hand, giving a dopey grin. "That sounds wonderful."

And exactly what you needed to forget about whatever was keeping you up anyway.

☁ So, in this world, the outbreak happens during the day, turning the initial toons, save for poppy and Boxten, the starter toons.

☁ One by one they probably rescue the other toons the same way I've explained Main rescues go. They get 100% research and Dandy offers a cure of sorts.

☁ From there, the ichor that did turn them into the original Twisteds remain, creating clones while the original toons get to return to normal life.

☁ Trinkets are like keychains enhanced with the same power ups they have in game. There are several of each one, but more than two at a time can provide issues with magic overload, making them more sluggish, less powerful, etc.

☁ Toons still have their special abilities as well, with cool downs. I've touched on this before but, for example, Cosmo's ability? He can feel when he uses it, normally infusing a bit of his life force into a treat the distractors/whoever can eat while on the move. Sprout can also do this, however should the need arise they also can redirect this directly onto any sort of wound.

☁ If an OG toon gets injured, bad ichor enters their system. If they're hit enough times, they can be returned back to their original twisted form and the process has to be repeated, which is why Safety is a huge concern during runs.

☁ Speaking of, Toons have the ability to return to the foyer/ entrance of Gardenview whenever they wish as long as everyone is in the elevator.

☁ I think that's it, but if there are any questions I would be more than happy to answer!

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

The Hobie fandom has a lot of smut, and with a character so accepting on so many fronts, it means so much to me to see trans!readers being taken into consideration.

As a trans guy myself, I love seeking out ftm!smut. But often times, I often can't read them. Many times I'm left feeling unseen, reduced, or even feminized.

And I wanna talk about that a bit, if it's okay.

My take and feelings on FTM!smut - As a Trans Guy

Ngl as a trans guy myself I do feel a bit alienated by a lot of FTM!reader.

I'm gonna be honest - I feel like most ftm smut is written exactly as it would be a cis woman, just with the pronouns changed. Which is understandable, but not really how it works.

Cis women and trans men don't have sex the exact same, just because they're AFAB.

And I feel most smut writers haven't gone out of their way to research the sexual experiences of trans men and how we navigate the world.

Hobie smut is pretty vulgar, and I won't complaining! As a character, he has a high volume of smut, and probably the most diverse range, with Black!reader, ftm!readers, and male!readers being more common than most fandoms.

Black!Reader focuses on the unique experience of black people when in a relationship together. This unique experience is at the basis of black!reader.

But when we approach Ftm!reader - very often, our unique experience isn't reflected.

It's just assumed that because we are AFAB - there's no need to look deeper at the closer unique sexual experience trans men have - or to read up about it.

Most ftm!reader fic does not attempt to use affirming sexual language for trans men at all.

T-dicks - ie, natural clitoris enlargement you get after taking T - is a thing a lot of transitioning Trans men have.

But they're never called T-dicks in fanfiction. Only clits. It's very rare that a ftm!reader is described as having a dick - because so often the only dicks cis people recognize are natal dicks, and surgery-constructed ones.

Many cis writers may never even considered referring to a trans man's clitoris as a dick - pre or post T. They may see it as confusing to the reader, when it's not.

T-Dicks are dicks. Bottom growth didn't give you a full 3-4 inches, but you absolutely have growth and there are trans men that can penetrate with T-dicks - without surgery - if with the right partner.

The words pussy and cunt are used liberally in nearly all ftm!smut, and while many trans men are okay with these terms, I think a lot of cis writers ignore or do not know that often, terms like those can cause heavy dysphoria in a lot of ftm readers.

I don't think cis writers ever question if they might be making readers dysphoric - or showing them in a non-affirming way.

I feel like some writers believe that changing pronouns and calling the reader 'handsome' is really all it takes. Just write usual fem smut, change the pronouns - and done!

In reality, a large part of the ftm community feels uncomfortable with the word 'pussy' - and would much rather stuff like 'front hole'.

A poll on 'What do you call your downstairs?'

And I'm not saying that you can't call a trans man's genitals a pussy. And I'm not saying that a trans man calling his genitals a pussy is wrong.

I just feel like cis writers do not consider the dysphoria of their trans readers, when writing trans smut.

I feel like most cis writers don't actually seek out accounts of trans men and their sexuality.

I don't think they ever consider that these terms, talking about wetness and penetration (which many men on T can have problems with because of vaginal atrophy and dryness), breast, clits, cunts, pussy -

I don't think cis writers ever question 'Is this accessible for ftm readers that might have dysphoria? How can I make this accessible or easier for trans men who have bottom dysphoria?'

Or

'How can I make this more affirming of them as men?'

It's the assumption that, because we're all AFAB, because we have vaginas like cis women - then naturally we must all fuck the same regardless of gender, the only thing changing being the pronouns.

That's not true.

And also - Trans Men are never really written like gay men.

Trans men having sex with men is gay sex.

And even though most writers write trans men with male OCs - they hardly ever write their sex as if they are gay men.

99.9% of the time, it isn't written that way. Its always written as if it's 'straight sex'.

The experience of how gay men have sex is never really taken account into these fics, which makes me feel like a lot of writers don't see it as gay sex at all.

At most, the ftm reader may be described as a bottom - but never as an otter or twink or bear or cub or leather or anything.

They see it as AFAB sex.

Cause If I'm getting strictly candid - I feel like if a writer wrote mtf!smut and kept focusing on the girls 'hard throbbing cock and balls' - we'd all be like 'oh wow that's very intense centering on genitals that may alienate some trans women-'

But in ftm!smut focusing on 'wet tight juicy pussy and thriving clit' is standard. It's never really questioned.

And this is not to say 'oh trans women have it better they get better smut-' No. They really don't. I'm just bringing this up to highlight the fact that we should be making sure that trans!smut is accessible and affirming to the trans people they're about.

Seeing a fic in which a gay trans man prefers to use his asshole, like most gay men fuck, is VERY VERY rare.

I feel like most cis writers never consider the fact that gay trans men may want to perform sex in an affirming, clearly coded, masculine gay way.

It's always assumed we use our front hole, are okay with it being called a pussy, have no problems getting wet, or that we don't have dicks (T-dick is a dick).

And because of that - the lack of affirming language and the lack of affirming transmasc experiences makes it very hard for me as a FTM person to read smut about ftm!readers.

I feel like most of them don't actually take our comfort - or our experiences in mind.

I feel like most don't attempt to actually read accounts of trans guys having gay sex, and what that's often like.

If you're a writer who feels guilty of any of this - you're not a bad person or a bad writer. And I genuinely thank you for including us in your work - from the bottom of my heart.

But I want to highlight this -

Trans men having sex is not a 1:1 of cis women having sex. The same way trans women having sex is not a 1:1 of cis men having sex.

Or experiences are unique - and our dysphoria does affect our sex lives, and how we navigate them.

Please, do not let this put you off writing trans men. But please keep in mind that our experience is unique.

So often I read ftm!reader and feel reduced down to my pussy. Without breasts in the equation, so much ftm!smut focuses solely on the pussy.

If you write ftm!reader please please do not let this put you off, but here's some tips I can give as a trans guy

Please do slight research of ftm anatomy, read an article about gay trans men, or go on r/ftm (subreddit) and read some posts about trans men, read some nsfw posts where trans men tell hookup tales.

Advocate has an great article called '16 things I learned from having sex with Trans Men' - which details and dispels 16 myths about trans men in bed. It's written from the POV of gay men who have been with trans men in affirming ways.

This post is in no way meant to be an attack or subliminal at any one writer. If it was one writer, I wouldn't care.

But this is something I've experienced and seen across fandoms and across writers in this fandom too. I feel the urge to write this because searching for affirming ftm!fics - I often come away feeling even more dysphoric.

Not because of the word pussy or cunt or anything -

But because of the erasure of my experience, the idea that my gender doesn't influence my experience of sex - only my AFAB genitals do.

If you write ftm!smut, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly.

But I feel like I had to say this.

If you read this far, thank you! This is one of my more personal venting posts but I'm also trying to raise a point and start a discussion. And you reading through this and giving me your time and understanding is already helpful enough, so thanks!

Here's Hobie.

Bye.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter nine of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, pining, fluff, some angst.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1941

You paced at the foot of your bed, wringing your hands together, heartbeat frantic against your ribcage as your world seemed to spin to a stop. You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, scream or sob, throw up or have a stroke. Your entire body was electrified with your nerves, popping and crackling loud in your ears as the impulses jumped from synapse to synapse with ease.

And it was Howard's fault.

After three years of courting, of you trying to make up excuses to lengthen the distance between you two, of trying to find a way out, of trying to find a way to tell Ben that you loved him, it had finally happened, Howard had proposed. It wasn't out of the blue, you had been courting long enough and you were well past the age of usual engagement, something your mother continued to point out, but that didn't make any of this any easier.

Your eyes drop to the offensive chunk of jewelry on your left hand. Not only was it the ugliest ring you’d ever seen, but it was from the wrong man. You knew that deep down in your bones, knew it the second Howard came to Sunday night dinner and dropped to one knee in front of you. Hell, you knew it the second you met Howard for the first time. He was nothing compared to Ben, no one was.

You had looked Howard in the eye stunned, unable to speak, then raised your eyes to your father and mother hoping to find your voice and a plausible excuse, but before you could give him the honest answer you knew in your heart to be true, your mother had shouted "Of course she will!"

Because she's controlled everything else about my life, of course she'd do this as well.

Your tried again not to think about how ugly the ring and how it was utterly wrong for you in every way. When Howard dropped to one knee and opened the velvet box, all you could think of was Ben. You wondered what ring Ben would have chosen for you and wondered if the ring from him would have been right.  He knew you better than anyone else.

Which begged the question: shouldn't your fiancé?

You tried not to compare your best friend to Howard, because you knew who would win. Every time you began to compare them, Ben had more pros than Howard did. But you couldn't keep waiting for Ben, didn't want to. Howard was promising you a future, a family, marriage-

A loveless one. The thought is immediate and makes your heart seize in your chest.

You knew that a marriage with Ben would be different, filled with passion, romance, love-

But he doesn't love you. So basically if Ben married you it would be the same for him as you marrying Howard. A one-sided love.

Despite dating Howard, you still allowed Ben in your life. Ben stayed over whenever he wished, walked with you to the park, stole you away for drinks in the bar down the street where Howard wouldn't be caught dead in, and took you to the occasional baseball game. Howard didn't drink and he didn't like being outside. Those moments with Ben made you feel more alive than you'd ever felt and then you'd meet Howard later and try to summon the enthusiasm to sit with him at dinner, all the while you were still buzzing with happiness from seeing Ben.

It made you feel like a traitor, feeling that good and thinking about another person while Howard tried to be everything you wanted.

Whenever Howard would kiss you goodnight, it made you feel like you were kissing a statue, cold, unfeeling, and despite his attempts to slide his tongue in your mouth it was passionless. And it made you think about what Ben said about Howard's name and what he would be like in bed, as improper as it was. You think back to all the moments you and Ben had been pressed against one another when you woke up in the morning, how perfectly you fit against him. Whenever Howard tried to hug you or hold you close it was all wrong. He wasn't tall enough or broad enough, not to mention sometimes you thought if he'd even be able to pick you up. Howard was more lanky than muscular, certainly not as strong as Ben, who picked you up one time on a dare from Adam when you were all really drunk.

Howard didn’t make you feel warm when he touched you accidently, he didn’t make you feel brave whenever your mother was around, and he certainly didn’t make you feel as happy as you did when you were with Ben. Not to mention he never let you draw him, said that there were more important things that he could be doing rather than siting there posing for you.

Howard wasn’t spontaneous. He’d show up exactly on time, call when he said he would, time every single minute of your dates and he certainly never tried to surprise you the way Ben did. The only time Howard ever seemed excited about anything was when he was talking about the fiscal progress of the United States in comparison to Europe, which he weaseled into every conversation you had together.

Even when he asked you to marry him it sounded more like a business proposal than a happy moment. You always thought that when you got engaged the other person would make at least some confession of love. He hadn’t done that. Howard successfully sucked the life out of a moment you thought you would remember forever. You couldn’t even remember what he said before he got on one knee, just the awkward silence and the feeling of dread that clamped tight around your heart when he asked you the question that ruined your life.

Legally am I bound to this, because technically my mother said yes for me?

You wondered if Howard proposed because the U.S was finally joining in the war or if he genuinely loved you. He brought by flowers often, roses even though you liked lavender more, brought by caramels even though you liked chocolates, and sent you books on the financial history of the United States that were helpful when you couldn't sleep at night, they sent you right off, not to mention you'd started sketching street scenes in the pages making them much more interesting, but you weren't going to show Howard that. His head would probably explode.

You sigh again, pacing faster at the end of your bed.

Howard wanted a quick wedding within the week before he shipped out to military training on Friday, and maybe you should be scared about your fiancé going to war, but the only person you were worried about was Ben. He'd probably also join the military to prove something to his father and take your heart with him when he left. You knew that Ben was the only one you wanted to hold your heart in his hands.

You look back down at the ring on your finger, filled with dread and thoughts about a passionless future.

How am I going to tell Ben?

The tap on your window is familiar, but frightens you, because you didn't know how to tell him or how he'd react. Each time you brought up Howard around him, Ben would make a sarcastic comment and change the subject. You think about the night you danced together, when Ben said that you couldn't be Howard's and also his friend.

Does that mean he'll never want to be apart of my life when we get married?

The thought makes your heart break. You couldn't imagine a life without Ben and you didn't want to, but you could image a life without Howard.

Ben is crouched in the window, a wide smile on his face,  but this time he doesn't wait for you to let him in, he rolls up the window himself and he crosses the room to hug you.

The hug surprises you. You were usually the one that initiated them, but the hug breaks something in your chest and you hug him back tighter than you ever had to stop the tears from falling, pressing your face into his rumpled suit.

"Hey Sweetheart." Ben pulls back, but frowns when he looks at your face. "What's wrong?" Ben's hand gently cups your cheek, trailing warmth where his fingertips touch. You're surprised at the boldness of his touch, but you ascribe it to the alcohol, given the sharp tang of whiskey that floats through the air between you.

"Nothing." You clear your throat, stepping back so his hand falls and covering your ring finger on your left hand with your right nonchalantly. "How are you?"

Ben frowns for a minute at your reaction, but then shakes it off. "I've got great news." He smiles so wide that it makes the urge to cry rise in the back of your throat again.

You knew that as soon as you married Howard he would forbid you from seeing Ben. He already had after the night at the dance hall, but you didn't pay attention to him. Unfortunately, you knew that once you were married you wouldn’t be able to defy his wishes. You respected what marriage represented far too much to cross that line.

"Um me too." You smile tightly, your heartbeat so loud you wonder if Ben can hear it.

"Oh. Well-" Ben begins to say, wanting to let you talk.

"No. Please, you go first."

He won't tell me what news he has if I say my piece about Howard.

"Well, I've been thinking about what you said to me the other day about trying to figure out what I want-"

You remembered the conversation clearly. It was another day at Fairmount Park and it was an attempt to get Ben to start thinking about his future, though when you had told him to figure out what he wanted you hoped that it meant he would consider you, consider turning your friendship into something more. Your heart surges, hoping that this is it, this is Ben finally saying that loves you, that he wants to be with you.

"And I'm finally going to make something of myself." Ben's green eyes shine brightly with his excitement.

"Huh?" Your heart sinks.

"I talked to my dad." You don't miss the way Ben's jaw tightens when he says it. "And I've decided to enlist-"

"Enlist! Ben-" It takes all you have to beg him not to go, not to leave you here. Because you knew that you couldn't live without him and the thought that he would die overseas in a war destroyed you.

"Wait, listen." Ben smiles wider, confusing you. "My dad has friends in the war department, friends that are looking for volunteers for a military project."

"A military project?"

"It's a serum or an injection that's supposed to make us stronger, better-"

"What do you mean?" You ask mildly confused. You hadn't heard of the government announcing any kind of experiments or projects in the newspapers. Surely Howard would have told you about it, he was always boring you with things like that.

"I'm a not a scientist" Ben shakes his head. "But all I know is that they're looking for volunteers and they want men and women."

Surprise flits through your mind. It was odd that they were also asking for women. Although you knew that the military was beginning to accept women in their ranks, it was still surprising that they wanted female volunteers for a government project. Especially if they were experimenting on them.

Like lab rats?

"What are you saying?" You're still confused as to what he's trying to tell you, unusual given the fact that you were usually very good at reading him.

"I want you come with me." Ben can hardly contain his excitement, his smile is so wide it nearly splits his face.

It was the last thing you expected him to ask. "What?" You blink.

"I don't want to do this without you." He says in a tone that makes your heartbeat stop. "And I want you to come with me." He repeats.

Your immediate reaction is to scream yes, let him take you away from all of this, but then you remember Howard, and your mother and feel the weight begin to settle on your shoulders again.

"Ben I can't." It breaks your heart to say it to him, to watch how his face falls.

“Why not?”

"Howard is-"

"Come on, you really think things are going to work out with that son of a bitch?" Ben shouts so loud you're afraid that he'll wake up your parents.

"He loves me-" You begin to say, the urge to cry coming back strong, burning against your eyes. Because now it was that you were choosing Howard over him, even though you didn't want to, it was what your mother wanted. The future she laid out for you.

"You don't know that." Ben snaps, rolling his eyes.

"Ben, he-" You struggle to find your words, taking in a deep breath to strengthen your voice. "He- he proposed. I mean it's been three years, we're both of age-"

Ben's eyes drop to your left hand and this time you uncover your hand so he can see the engagement ring. His shoulders tense and the muscle in his jaw clenches and unclenches.

"When did he ask you?" Ben says in almost a growl.

"Tonight. He came to dinner, my mother is so excited-" You successfully keep the tremor from your voice, but it quickly feels like you're running out of air.

"But you're not." Ben mutters

"Of course I am-" Your voice cracks with emotion.

"No you're not." Ben raises his gaze to look at you.  "I know you." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost afraid.

But Ben isn't scared of anything. You try to remember a moment that he acted afraid, the only time is the memory of when you first met, when his father was looking for him and you lied to help him hide. Ben was fearless, it was something that you admired about him. You could always rely on him to have your back, be strong when you knew that you couldn’t be. To see him afraid was different.

"Ben-" You try again.

"Please." His jaw clenches together. "Don't marry him. Come with me."

"What?" You blink a few times to comprehend what he's asking.

Is he saying that he wants me to marry him? To run away with him?

"You're worth a hundred of him and I don't want to do this without you."

"Ben you're asking me to give up my future, my life-" You say trying to strengthen your resolve.

As unwelcome as Howard's proposal was, it was a future of sorts, what Ben was asking you was to dive into the unknown and you weren't sure if you were strong enough to do that. To leave everything you knew behind you and go with him. But apart of you was thrilled. Maybe it meant that Ben cared for you, needed you and this was the only way that he knew how to tell you. The three little words jump to the tip of your tongue again, the words you wanted to say when you danced together under the twinkling lights all those nights ago.

"You mean the future your mother wants for you." Ben sighs.

"Ben-"

"You’ve been trying to please her your whole life. Please don’t do this for her. Don’t marry him for her." Ben says, trying to catch your gaze, but you look down at his chest for a minute.

"But-"

"You are worth more y/n. And even if she can’t see your worth I can."

"Ben-"  You look back up at him, trying to find the courage to tell him that you love him.

He stares back at you, green eyes wide and honest before he takes your hands. They're warm and rough, familiar in the best way. "Tell me that you want him. You’ve never lied to me before and I don’t think you’ll start now."

Your words die on your tongue, because you know that you can't lie to him, you never could.

"Is that really what you want? To spend the rest of your life with him? If it is I'll leave, but I want to hear you say it." His eyes are filled with promises that make your voice catch in your throat, like two blazing green fires that see through you. Ben might have acted aloof with other people, but he always paid attention to you and knew what you were thinking.  No one knew you as well as he did, well except for the most obvious thing.

No it's not what I want. All I want is to be with you. The thought is immediate.

"But what about my mother-" You say, squeezing his hands.

"If you come with me, you'll never have to worry about her ever again." He says. By now tears are trickling down your cheeks, frustration and confusion building in your chest. Ben was promising you a future with him, but you couldn't understand if he was doing it because he wanted to be more or if he wanted you with him because you were his friend.

He drops your hands and instead brushes away your tears from your eyes. "I know you don't want to marry him."

"I don't." You whisper. "But I don’t know if I'm strong enough for this-"

“Do you trust me?”

Your hands come up to the front of his chest before you can stop yourself, feeling the warmth that surges underneath your palms. “Of course I do.”

His eyes are inviting, pleading, filled with emotion. "I swear that I will be strong enough for the both of us." His hands cup your cheeks. "I swear that I will look out for you like I always have.  I swear that I will never leave you. And I don't want to leave you behind. Please y/n. Come with me." The earnest look in Ben's eyes makes you cry harder, but you know that all you want is to go with him.

You don't want him to go and leave you here, where no one understands and the future that you see is cold, emotionless, and the path dark. You see the coming years with Howard, living together, having children, lunching with other women you hardly know and talking about nothing that mattered.

When you were with Ben everything you talked about seemed important, every moment with him was fused with wonder and expectation, you were never disappointed and were always excited about what you would do together even if it was something as mundane as sitting on a bench with Ben talking while you painted. You could imagine spending the rest of your life with him.

But could he imagine the same thing with you?

The future you see with Ben is warm, inviting, filled with promises you know that he’ll keep because he’s never broken a promise to you no matter what.

But you wonder if it's the promise that you want.

You stand there in the silence of his plea, hearing the ticking of the clock on your bedside table, the sound of cars outside your window, and the sounds of the night vibrate through you bones.

He wasn’t saying that he loved you. He wasn’t confessing his love. He wasn’t making a promise to marry you.

But maybe this was his way. Ben had never been the best at expressing what he was feeling, but the look in his eyes, the way his fingers hold your face to his-

It spoke volumes.

“Yes.” You whisper. “I’ll come with you.”

Ben’s smile breaks your heart as he pulls you tightly against him, laying his head on top of yours as he hugs you and sets every nerve ending on fire. Because the hug is different. It’s filled with the unspoken words between you, the memories you’ve shared, and the great unknown that stretches beyond both of you.

And you cling tight to him, the only part of your future that’s certain.

Or so you thought.

a/n: I know, I know there's a lot of unresolved tension.😂 I promise it will all make sense and that it is going somewhere. But I will say the next few chapters are kinda... rough and are painful to write, but I can't wait for y'all to read them.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts

@onlyangel-444

[cute-n-curious]

Monster Dating App [5]: Man in the Mirror

[Author's note: this one is long but lots of fun, we're going on an adventure! I could've split it into two parts but thought it's easier to keep it in one post. As always, no need to have read previous stories - the premise of this series is super simple, a mysterious app sends you monsters to "date" (and fuck). List of stories in pinned post.]

With those 2 disasters fresh in your head, now here you sit, waiting for match #5 to make his appearance. After those lacklustre dates, you decided to shift from dressing for "easy access" back to dressing "respectably cute", with a flattering tight cami and your second-most ass-hugging pair of jeans. The hour of the date is upon you, and you’re reclined on your couch, scrolling through Instagram on your phone while hoping and praying that your date will buzz the intercom and walk through the door, rather than crawling through the window or oozing out of the faucet.

As the minutes tick by, you start to wonder if monster men have the same tendency as their human counterparts to flake on dates just when you’re feeling the most needy and accommodating, when you see flashes of movement out the corner of your eye. You turn your head towards the black surface of your dormant TV set, and are shocked to see the hazy shape of your hand waving to get your attention. You pivot in your seat and turn to face the screen, and see the darkened shape of your reflected body stand independently and wave hello, with your other hand resting on your hip. After a moment of staring back dumbstruck, your reflection gestures in the direction of your bedroom, as if urging you to walk there.

Puzzled, but taking the hint, you walk into your bedroom and turn and look expectantly into the full-length mirror beside the door frame. Just as you suspected, your reflection begins to move independent of you, stepping closer to the glass surface and looking you in the eyes, smiling.

“Good evening, beautiful” you hear your own voice say. The lips of your reflection articulate the words, but the origin of the sound feels close and intimate, as if it were coming from the front of your own face and not from the position across from you. “Sorry if you were bored waiting, I’ve been trying to get your attention for fifteen minutes now, but I only become synchronised with your other senses when you’re looking at me.” You’re starting to get it now, but it seems that your date this time is at least comfortable to look at and speak to, so you might as well take advantage and ask what’s on your mind.

“Sorry I was too glued to my phone to notice you. So, are you some kind of sexy mirror-ghost?” you ask, playfully.

“You’re the one bringing the sexiness,” your reflection responds in your voice, “And while I wouldn’t call myself a ‘ghost’, I’m not a human who died and is now haunting your pretty face, it’s a reasonable shorthand to describe a disembodied being like me.”

That word puzzles you. “Disembodied?” you repeat, sounding a little disappointed. “While I’m sure you’re a fantastic conversationalist, I’ll be honest and confess that my intentions in surfing a monster hook-up app are to have some very, well, EMBODIED experiences…”

The reflection responds with a silent gesture. She places a fingertip on her (or rather, your) chin, and then seductively rakes it down the front of the neck and between the subtle cleavage of the low-cut top. As you watch this, you feel the distinct sensation of skin on skin, not only sliding erotically down your neck and chest, but also the pressure of sliding touch on your own right index fingertip.

“Oooh, I see. Very ghostly…” you coo. “Do you feel what I do, too?” you ask, upping the ante by sliding your hand up under the front of your top, gently caressing your on belly, and sliding your hand up under the soft cup of your bra, groping yourself.

“I can,” your own voice replies to you softly. “When we’re sensory locked through the reflection, we are of one skin, one flesh. You feel my touching as your own, and vice versa. The symmetry of borrowing this alluring image of yours.”

Your mind races with the possibilities, and you flush a little with the heat of the narcissistic chemistry between you and this aloof version of yourself. You give your tit another squeeze, and see your reflection writhe and sigh, but then she surprises you with the boldness of her next move. She grabs the lower hem of your top and peels the top above her head, prying the soft bra off with it, exposing your own bouncing tits to view. The sensation is bizarre, and you expect your real shirt to fly off like in a comedy sketch, but it stays perfectly in place as you feel the strange mixed sensations of being clothed and topless at the same time. The sensation only magnifies as your reflection pulls loose the waist buttons of your jeans, and seconds later she’s stepping out of the pants and panties in the mirror, defiantly presenting your own naked body to you while you watch, fully clothed but feeling strangely vulnerable.

“As you can see, there are some discontinuities. Though these kinds of changes are local to the surface,” explains your disrobed doppelganger, gesturing towards the door to your adjoining bathroom. Taking the hint, you step to the side and lean over to meet eyes with your reflection in the smaller mirror above the sink counter, and are a bit surprised to see your fully clothed torso looking back at you, copying your moves exactly before pausing and winking back at you. You pivot back to the full length mirror to see your nude self running her hands over her flanks, and it is only when your eyes lock back onto that reflection that you feel the sensual touch on hands on thighs. “Get the picture?” she asks playfully, “Because I can keep demonstrating if you need some time to think…”

You see in the mirror and at the same time feel the probing embrace of your own fingers, one hand pinching your right nipple, the other gently parting and caressing the wet and needy folds of your pussy. It’s such a weird yet alluring feeling, to feel fingers on and then inside your horny opening, but contrasted with the still present and incongruous reassuring feel of wearing a pair of sensible pants. You’ve always loved getting finger-fucked, and you’ve masturbated a thousand times in your life, most commonly with just your fingers, but there is something truly unique to feeling someone else apply their own technique and urgency to pinching your clit and grinding your g-spot through the familiar tools of your own fingers. Especially when you can look down at your own fully clothed crotch, and then your innocent empty hand, yet feel the wet, hot friction of them probing and massaging each other.

You’re not sure if you imagined it, but the physical sensation begins to fade for a second, but once you return your eyes to the mirror, the feeling and the voyeuristic arousal returns with full force. Your wanton, naked reflection is really putting on a show for you. She sits down on the floor, faces you and casually leans back, one knee drawn up and legs spread wide, while she continues playing with herself while looking you right in your eyes. You can’t help but stare, entranced, at your own flushed naked body, moving and writhing in angles you can’t usually see, and she spreads and fingers her pussy, your pussy, with unflinching confidence. You recall the idiom “drive it like you stole it”, and god, she had stolen your likeness and was taking it for quite the joy ride. You breathing descends into whimpers and grunts as your climax builds to a crescendo, though its hard to tell where your passive moaning begins and the reflections assertive moaning ends. You cum hard, feeling your juices soak the inside of your panties and jeans, while you admire your own flushed and bare heaving chest in the mirror, as she pulls her soaked fingers free and inserts them into her, your, mouth. The heady, tangy musk of your own pussy juice suddenly fills your mouth and nostrils, and as your naked self-shaped date stands back up, the deep narcissism of the whole exercise suddenly dawns on you.

“That’s what I love about syncing up with a goddess like yourself when getting her off, I don’t have to ask if you just came as hard as I did. For now, we are one flesh, and that flesh is delicious and tingling…” she says in your breathiest, most seductive tone, while again sucking her fingers and filling your skull with the flavour of your juices and musk.

“That was great, really intense, but…” you begin. This is a tone you recognised in yourself from half a dozen conversations with drunk female friends who were getting handsy and emotional in a shared moment. This is your "sorry, but my preference is cock" voice. “I got on the app looking for some hot monstrous men to fuck me. And while that was a hotter finger-fucking than I could give myself on my best day, I was hoping to enjoy a piece of anatomy that I can’t find in my own pants…”

Your own jubilant laugh jars you as you watch your own breasts bounce with mirth in the mirror. “Of course,” your reflection replies, “You love getting stretched out and hammered by cock, mmmm, with a pussy like yours I can feel why, you’re practically built for it.” You flinch with an awkward burst of pleasure as she casually plunges your fingers deep up inside your opening, swirling them around for fit like a ladle stirring to gather the last scoops of soup from a pot.

From there, your oversexed counterpart presses herself against the glass, giving you a flash of the cool feel of glass against your nipples, and grins widely in satisfaction as she speaks in your most coy and conspiratorial voice. “Your perception locks your other senses to my activities, but I’m not limited to borrowing just YOUR reflection. If you have a small mirror here, something hand-held, you can take me outside with you, and we can find someone else’s reflection for me to borrow. If its cock you want, let's go find you one, and we can bring it back here to stuff you just as full as you like…”

Within seconds you’re in your dresser drawers, scrambling to dig out an old disused makeup compact hidden in the back. You open it to check it has a mirror before glancing over your shoulder back to your still naked, but smiling reflection. You can only hear and feel it when you’re looking, so it had waited patiently for your returned glance to keep explaining its bizarre powers.

“Just get me and your intended in frame together, and you can carry me in his form to any new reflections you like. Oh, and keep your eyes open while we look, I’ll be sure to keep putting on a show for you to help you decide…” God, do YOU sound that slutty when making salacious offers to people? A part of you really hopes so.

You feel a bit sheepish, stepping out of your apartment with the compact mirror open in your hands, hoping it doesn't look too out of the ordinary. The sensory link with your date is maintained by perception, apparently, so you can't just keep him folded up in your pocket, you need to keep checking in with him in the small reflective surface every few moments. To keep you tuned in, he is controlling your reflection to run its fingers through the hair behind your ears. Whenever you feel the affectionate stroking and playful little tugs begin to fade, you know to need to glance back at the mirror to keep your connection alive. You're aware you must look like you have a mice nest in your hair for the way it shifts and bunches with an unseen force, but given how good he is with those fingers, this might be the least distracting option.

As you reach the lobby of your apartment building, you pass by one of your neighbours, a portly middle-aged man with receding hair and an unfriendly disposition. When you pass him, you pause by the door and look back at him through the compact mirror, and are surprised to see him turn to face you, smiling roguishly while undoing his belt-buckle. Your eyes widen in instinctive alarm, and you turn your head to see the man himself locking his mailbox and turning to walk away from you. Suddenly, to feel a thick, brawny hand audibly slap and grab onto your ass cheek, and you glance into the mirror in your hand. The tiny, close view is crowded, but you can make out the borrowed reflection of your neighbour huddled up beside you, and you feel his hot breath and the sound of his voice beside your neck.

"Not the most appealing image, but I thought it'd be wise to show you a test run before we hit the street," the gravelly, flirtatious voice says. You could count on one hand the number of times you'd heard your squat neighbour speak, and certainly never like this. Speaking of one hand, you feel your own hand being guided by the wrist into a region of empty space, but you feel your fingers close around the hot flesh of a stubby, hairy cock and balls. "Not a lot to work with, I'm afraid," the reflection's borrowed voice said with a husky disappointment, "but he is very sensitive and pent up, feels like he hasn't had a woman grasping his cock in a decade."

You give the short, invisible erection a playful squeeze, mashing the spongy cockhead under your thumb. A smirk creeps over your face as the phantom genitalia retreats from your grip. The unseen brawny hand holds onto your elbow and pulls you towards the door.

"Gentle, please, it's still me cumming when you milk that dick, and I'd rather have some more fun together before that happens. I take it you want to scout for a superior specimen?" Your mind races with ideas as you step out onto the busy street with your ghostly date.

"Oh yes, let's go shopping. Show me what the local boys are hiding in their pants..." you murmur, feeling your excitement mounting.

You were always aware that your local area had a lot of reflective surfaces, thanks to the gentle everyday narcissism of checking your look from different angles when walking to work. But the various shop windows and driveway caution mirrors take on a new meaning with your current focus on getting appraising angles on unsuspecting handsome men. Your date maintains his invisible physical contact with you until he vanishes to acquire a new form, and every time a reflected man within view locks eyes with you, you know what is coming next...

For ten minutes straight you were an actress, playing the part of a wholesome non-degenerate just out for a walk in her neighbourhood. You tried your best to not react with shock or delight on your face every time the reflection of a nearby man suddenly turned seductively in your direction and began putting on a quick and playful striptease. A part of you had hope that the "sensory bond" that anchored you to your mirror ghost date meant that this public play would be magically private. It was clear that while only you could hear his voice and feel his increasingly amorous touch, no matter whose image he borrowed, the changes to the reflections themselves were somehow real while he was in possession of them. Anyone who glanced at the right surface at the right time saw the horny doppelgangers whipping out and pumping their hard dicks as you walked past, and once they started paying attention, their other senses would catch up as well. This was bad enough when it nearly gave an old woman a heart-attack seeing the reflected image of her cute college-aged grandson suddenly lewdly waving his long pink hard-on in the open air. But when it was the targeted man himself who caught a glimpse of his reflection, he felt the same clashing sensations you had when your date first introduced himself, the confusing juxtaposition of being clothed and unclothed, touched and untouched, all at once. Thankfully the effect immediately ceases once your "date" jumps to another reflection.

You stop at a street corner, a few body lengths over from a tall handsome man, with broad shoulders, a neat beard, and flawless mahogany skin, locking eyes with his reflection in the jewellery store window across the street. His reflection winks at you, and he peels his tight grey t-shirt up and over his head like a victorious soccer player, exposing his surprisingly dense chest hair and toned, flat abs. The voyeuristic thrill intensifies as the woman beside you does a double-take, switching her glance rapidly between the man beside her and his reflection as the image across the street yanks down his pants to his thighs, causing a painfully erect cock, dark and veiny, to spring loose and bob obscenely in the air in front of him.

This is the nicest body and cock you've seen so far today, but you're enjoying this window shopping a little too much to stop right now, so you look your supernatural showman in the eyes and give him a playful lip-bite and small shake of your head, and he relinquishes the poor man's reflection before he or any more people notice. You feel vicariously powerful, knowing that if that poor hunk were to glance at his own reflection when it's in this state, he'll experience that same delicious, incongruous feeling you felt earlier this afternoon, of being nude and clothed at once, close to the edge and yet stable and placid, but for him it would be wholly unexpected and unwelcomed.

Your pussy has become so wet and needy it is almost unbearable, like exactly one part of your body had been thrown into a pool during an out-of-control party. It wasn’t just the ceaseless, naughty parade of horny disrobing men you saw in every reflective surface… Tall men with cute little boners that barely stuck out past their pubes, meek looking chubby men with tight balls and extremely curved members, athletic guys hard abs and shaved crotches primed for frequently-sent dick-pics, even one fit trans man whose pussy looked surprisingly alluring above his toned manly thighs… No, you were also getting off on the feeling of power, of knowing you could claim any body you liked the look of for yourself, and your date would march it straight home for you and fuck you with a body and cock whose owner has no idea what is going on. In principle, it isn’t especially different from seeing a gorgeous man on the street, holding his look in your imagination, and going home to masturbate to the idea of him fucking you silly. But in practice, this was more real, more participatory, knowing you’d get the full and truthful experience of your chosen man’s shape, and feel, and smell, and taste…

You pass an outdoor café where, right next to the shiny, opaque window, a wholesome looking but strikingly handsome dad was eating waffles with his wife and three children. Worth a look, you can’t help but think, tracing your eyes over his beautiful jawline and alluringly salt-and-pepper temples. Your date had already taken the image of the thin, cosmopolitan waiter, but following your gaze and the needy jerk of your head, he switched targets. Not wanting to traumatise any children, you were happy when you saw the dad’s reflection disappear from beside his wife, and walk into frame on it’s own on the dark window closer to your side, already reaching down to pull his baggy, homebody sweater up over his head. Your jaw drops as his lean, muscular chest swells into view, and the bundled up shirt and sweater peels off his defined brawny shoulders and dense, powerful arms. This wholesome, unassuming dad has a secret side to him, or at least a colourful history, because he is in incredible shape, with exotic tattoos criss-crossing his upper arms, chest, and provocatively angling down in arrow-like shapes straight towards his crotch…

Your breath catches as the reflection unbuckles the DILF’s tight jeans and yanks them down to the floor, as an immense, springy, engorged cock springs triumphantly into view, slapping comically against his hard abs. Jesus, what a specimen, his dick was likely the longest you’d ever seen on a human man. Those audacious arrow-tattoos extended down past his shaved crotch and up the lengthy sides of his big manhood, and the underside of his twitching behemoth was lined with several small bumpy piercings, clearly intended to rake and stimulate the inside of some lucky pussy when he pistons that battering ram inside. Flushed, you glance back over at the wholesome 40-something-year-old man giggling with weary patience beside his wife and kids. What a secret to be hiding! It made your pussy tingle thinking that this body, this tremendous cock, was some hidden treasure that only that mousy-haired mom got to enjoy when the kids were off at soccer practice… That this sweet family man was concealing powerful muscles and a pussy-slaying weapon beneath his clothes wherever he went.

The wife turns in your direction unexpectedly, briefly locking eyes with you and wrinkling her nose in distaste. She strikes you as a woman who knows what she has, and is warily accustomed to random sluts eyeing her husband and thinking naughty thoughts. You return your eyes to the fully naked, hard reflection, that was already drawing some awkward doubting stares from people walking past you on the street.

“Sorry ma’am,” you whisper to yourself, “I have a bit of an emergency here, and I’m going to have to commandeer your husband’s big sexy cock for the afternoon…” You pivot on the spot, raising the compact mirror to capture the reflection in frame to bring home with you. “I hope you understand,” you continue, now speaking to your date as much as the woman you were about to cuckold, “official business.”

As you stride down the street back towards your apartment building, with the kind of shaky-legged urgency that only a burning need to get fucked hard can summon, you could feel your ghostly date’s delight that you have finally made your choice.

“Wonderful pick,” a new, surprisingly smooth and gentle voice whispers huskily in your ear. “I can already feel, this guy FUCKS, hard, and I think he’s packing just what you need to release all this tension…”

Your posture twists awkwardly as you suddenly feel a large, strong hand slide down the back of your jeans, probing a long, thick finger between your flushed ass cheeks, and curling around until it sinks three knuckles deep into your hot, sopping pussy. You yelp in surprise and nearly stumble forward, but the invisible naked body striding beside you hoists you up effortlessly, and keeps you walking along awkwardly, like a puppet being controlled by a single, NO, now two… fuck, THREE fingers, curling and sliding up inside you from behind. You reach your hand into the empty space beside you, and touch the hot flesh of a heavy-breathing masculine chest, and you instinctively run your hand down until your fingers (barely) close around the hilt of the huge protruding baby-maker that your date was bringing home for you.

“Fuuuuck” you exhale in breathless pleasure, your grasping hand pumping the long distance back and forth beside you on the unseen shaft, your fingers grazing the erotic piercing bumps on the underside, “I can’t walk around like this, people will think I’m having a stroke..."

As the word 'stroke’ left your lips, the invisible hand tending out the ass of your pants twisting, until the middle and index fingers were tickling and pinching your swollen clit, and the big thumb plunged hard into your gooey hole, mashing into your g-spot like he was being fingerprinted by the police. You shudder mid-step, cumming hard and biting your lip, your left hand pumping the huge, slick, unseen member back and forth as if you were pushing yourself along on invisible cross-country skis. If anyone were watching, they'd see you stumble, one hand bracing yourself against a nearby wall, the other curiously around an invisible object, knees buckling as you moan softly and bite your lips, eyes glazed. Thankfully, no one has noticed, yet.

The sensation of the fingers and the dick beginsto fade, and you instinctively glance back into your compact mirror to re-sync the sensation, and nearly cum again from the erotic sight of your own flushed face, and the predatory grin of that handsome father-of-three caressing your ear between his perfect lips, looming behind you, seen only in that tiny reflection. He jerks his head to the side, and temporarily vanished from the mirror. You turn your head to the large laundromat window to your right, and see the full erotic reality of yourself shuffling down the street, a mewling manhandled slut, being half carried by your chest and pussy by a fully naked tattooed stud, whose huge, curved cock was visibly dripping a stream of precum onto the sidewalk as you pumped him vigorously. A woman inside the laundromat drops her basket in aroused shock as sees your lover's reflection molesting your writhing body, and you cum again, hard, as you continue shuffling down the street as quickly as you're able to in the circumstances.

You waddle in through the front door of your apartment building, smiling and nodding apologetically at a sweet neighbour of yours as she greets you warmly. You’re still doubled over forward, being invisibly finger-fucked, and her eyes are drawn to your breasts, which mysteriously compress and distort from the unseen manhandling of some invisible molester. As you pass her and reach the stairs, you feel a moment’s relief from the relentless fingering as his hand slides out of your jeans, and you feel yourself suddenly lifted off the ground into a powerful pair of phantom arms. You adjust your mirror to frame you and your date together as he bounds up the stairs with surprising athleticism, and you struggle with your keys at the awkward angle as he licks and bites your neck, his hot breath leaving you trembling as the door finally opens. Like a newlywed bride, you are carried over the threshold sideways into your home, the door slamming shut behind you, and you find yourself tossed playfully onto your own bed. Also like a newlywed bride, you are about to have a relationship THOROUGHLY consummated, but as you look to the full length mirror next to your bed, it is the toned naked ass of ANOTHER woman’s husband that steps into frame.

You kick your shoes off in giddy excitement, and feel his strong hands tug at the ankles of your jeans, shucking them all the way off just as you get the waistband button unhooked. The unseen hand hoists your ankles together and straight up, and your ruined, drenched panties are peeled off your legs and discarded, and you feel that hot breath wash over your puffy, well-fingered labia as your legs are parted and your date drops his mouth onto your pussy. He tongues you and drinks your nectar in long passionate kisses, taking full advantage of the borrowed dad’s surprisingly long and thick tongue, making you cum again and again. But you find yourself frustrated that you can only see the side of his muscular arm and shoulder in your mirror, and excuse yourself to stand up, peel off your top, and then drag your full-length mirror into it’s rightful place right in front of the foot of your bed.

Then you see him shift over and sit right in frame. Fuck he’s gorgeous, and that cock… No wonder he has three kids, if you were in that mousey-haired mother’s shoes you suspect you’d have something closer to eight by now… You walk yourself over, guiding your depth perception with your hands while glancing back at the mirror for guidance, as you straddle the reflected stud, invisible in person but all man in the reflection. You lift yourself high enough to feel the huge, oozing mushroom head of his cock plant itself against your opening. Despite being as wet as you can remember being, you slowly slide down on the immense daddy-dick, feeling your back walls stretching out as the piercing bumps tickle your insides as they drag past.

It is too surreal to be looking down and seeing nothing but yourself hovering over your bed as you cowgirl your invisible date, so you close your eyes and pump yourself up and down, only getting a few strokes in before you’re cumming again, hard, on his big probe while his strong hands knead and massage your ass cheeks. You tremble and pulse on his dick, but feel the sensation start to fade and your pussy begin to collapse on itself. Shit, stupid, out of habit you’re facing away from the mirror, making it hard for you to keep an eye on the reflection.

You lift up on your haunches, awkwardly looking over your shoulder, and he chuckles as he helps you reposition yourself, so that now you’re sitting on his lap, reverse cowgirl, fully impaled, facing yourself in the mirror. You hold his gaze in the mirror as you grind your hips back and forth, and he pinches your nipples firmly. In this position, the piercing bumps graze right against your g-spot as you shimmy and ride him, and you cum again surprisingly quickly while he lovingly nibbles your shoulder from behind.

“How sturdy is the frame of that mirror?” he suddenly asks.

“Uh..” you don’t have time to fully reply before he launches up to his feet, toppling you forward. You reach out and brace yourself against the mirror as he squats down his long muscular legs to match your pelvic height, and begins to vigorously doggy-fuck you as you fog the mirror’s surface with your ragged, up-close breath. His hands lock in on the round swell of your naked hips, and he pulls his immense manhood back an obscene length before slamming it back in with full force. Your worries for your jostling mirror quickly evaporate as he pulverises your pussy with fast, incredibly long strokes, making you feel full to bursting every time he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Your climax builds again and again, as that oddly gratifying piercing rakes and jostles the front wall of your vagina with each pistoning slide. He slides his long fingers over your hips, up the front of your body, and cup your tits hard, his grip sinking in for leverage as he pulls you backward by your chest, suspending you while he continues to fuck you furiously.

The requirement to keep visual contact is a burden, but a stimulating one. The only downside is that it makes you feel self-conscious. Its genuinely hot to start back through the mirror as the striking hung DILF passionately rearranging your insides, watching him sweat and groan and struggle to focus as he gets closer and closer to erupting. But by necessity, there you are in his groping arms, even more dripping with sweat, mouth slack with heavy breathing, cheeks flushed, eyes barely open, vaguely aware of how loudly you're orgasming. Your neighbours will be giving you judgmental looks over this for weeks but for now you don't give a fuck. It makes you feel like a porn star, but a thoroughly unprepared porn star. The visual feedback of being jackhammered by this stud cock is so stimulating, but there is no polished performance here, you’re watching him take you apart pussy-first, and this forced awareness of your own exhausted body makes you long for the everyday comforts of squeezing your eyes shut and focusing purely on the feeling of being railed…

“Oh fuck, I can’t hold it, you feel so fucking good. Where do you want me to cum?” he half whimpers, half growls in agonised horny desperation. Your mind screams ‘inside me!’, but you remember the problems you caused for your first wonderful date begging to be creampied when your profile specifies ‘no breeding’. You sober a little from your cock-drunk state to compose a sentence in English.

“I want you to cream my insides but I don't want the consequences...” your own voice comes out whinier than you expected, sounding like a horny, bratty girl who can’t believe she’s telling a man to maybe NOT pump her needy pussy full of cum.

“Oh, no need to worry about that,” he breathes raggedly into your ear, clutching his arms under your shoulders like a wrestling lock, increasing his leverage for even harder and more urgent thrusts. “When I pump you full of this guy’s baby-batter, his millions of swimmers will absolutely rush straight for your womb to make you a mommy…” he groans loudly as he says this, cock pulsing deep in your pussy, as he tips himself over the edge. You feel the hot, spreading warmth of his eruption against your back walls, pushing you over the edge as well from the sensations as well as his words. His tries to catch his breath as he continues, “but once we break the sensory link, the cum will no longer be in contact with you, and will fade out of your pussy like a warm memory…”

The reassurance washes through your body on the back of your orgasm, and you tiredly grind your ass up and down against your phantom lover, feeling his long rigid shaft, still surging and spurting, thrum inside you as he rides out the shuddering pleasure. As he pulls out of you, his immense tattooed dick slowly wilts and twitches in the mirror, and you can feel the rush of hot, thick cum glide down the inside of your thigh, and you verify in the reflection that it is glistening and pearly white. He holds you close and peppers you with kisses, and after a minute or two of nuzzling and fondling, you’re both surprised to see the huge mushroom head of his cock inflating and rising again with renewed desire.

“Mmmm, yes…” you purr, looking in the mirror to guide your hand as you grope over the fuck-slicked head of his cock and lightly finger the pink opening as he hardens. “No wonder this guy has so many kids.”

Like a smaller microcosm of the mind-melting fuck you’d received on your first date from the app, few things turn you on as much as being creampied and then immediately fucked again by the same man, too stimulated and addicted to the feeling to stop with one. Your first date had clearly cheated, having a small army of ready cocks to rotate through, but something excites you even more as your current date re-inserted himself into your well-battered pussy. This wasn’t the result of some special supernatural power, this was the very human enthusiasm of your disembodied date being channelled through the shockingly virile anatomy he’d borrowed from a wholesome-looking husband and father. The fact that the real man most certainly fucks his wife just like this behind closed doors makes you feel an unspoken sistership with that overworked-looking mom. ‘Thank you, sister, for finding and training the stunning cock I am now enjoying’ you think mischievously, as you spread your legs to allow him deeper as you feel his muscular frame press down on the front of your body.

The second fuck was as intense as the first, but your accumulating fatigue made the requirement of keeping one eye on the mirror harder and harder. In addition to feeling more and more self-conscious looking at your own flushed and over-fucked face, with hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks by sweat, the temptation to blissfully close your eyes and focus on your building orgasms got harder and harder to resist, and you were left frustratingly teased a couple of times as his feel began to fade when you kept your eyes clamped shut for too long. Your date was wonderfully understanding, clearly having grappled with this problem with other women before.

“Tell you what, beautiful,” he begins playfully, licking up your chest, up the front of your neck, and nibbling on the bottom of your chin, “I’ve had an amazing time, but you’re clearly struggling to keep our sensory bond. Instead of continuing our date after this creampie, chatting over the reflection of some dinner, how about we finish this with a bang, I’ll fade this form away before you get pregnant, and you can hit me up again when you want some more?” His cocky confidence was alluring. Even though he was borrowing his physicality from a surprisingly hung DILF, this was his power and his skill making you cum so hard, and he was right that you wanted more.

“I like the sound of that,” you respond huskily, “fuck me and fill me until you fade away, leaving me gaping and cumming in the absence of that glorious cock.”

He squeezes his hands under your ass cheeks and lifts you like a ragdoll. To your surprise, he plants you back on your back at a perpendicular angle, so instead of watching yourself get fucked side-on in the mirror, you are now facing the mirror straight-on, with your head hanging upside-down over the rim of your bed. You watch your own eyes widen as the squatting adonis, cock still embedded in you, lifts your legs by your ankles again and folds you over on yourself. His weight bears down on you, driving his cock as deep as it will possibly go, making you feel like you’re about to burst, and be begins fucking you harder than ever. The sensation is incredible, you begin to cum almost immediately, and the climaxes pancake on each other like a highway pile-up, each one chaining onto the next, more intense, as your exhausted over-stimulated pussy is pushed beyond the limit.

You stare at his lusty, straining, upside-down form in the mirror, as he jackhammers faster and harder with each passing moment, until you let out a guttural scream as he slams and holds as deep as possible while he erupts for the second time inside you. The rush is so hot, so voluminous, you feel your mind melting as you clamp your eyes shut and savour the shudders of pleasure quaking through his body as he pours everything he has out into you. Your convulsing pussy milks him hard as he gasps for breath, and just as your orgasm crests and begins to subside, you feel the sensation begin to fade as his sensory presence softly vanishes.

The feeling is uncanny, your hot and flooded, overstuffed pussy is suddenly empty, collapsing down on itself without the internal pressure to keep it tented and stretched. The gratifying weight of his body, the immense heat of his sweating skin, all suddenly gone. You are alone, thoroughly gratified, but breathing hard, feeling the stillness of your room. You’ve had guys cum and sneak out on you in the past, but to literally go from filling you to vanishing is… jarring… But wow, what a finish.

As you step into your shower and let the water rush over you, you still feel an incongruous post-coital sensation. You’re very well-fucked, but so many of the pleasurable traces that are left after an excellent fucking; the drip of cum, the musky smell of a man’s passion, all of it vanished with him, and you can’t help but feel like you were somehow just imagining and masturbating uncommonly hard.

He had warned you that contact with him would be irregular, that "The Foundation" maintained an always-on phone, in front of a mirror in a locker for him to use the app, but you couldn’t wait to hear from him again. The idea of having him in your rotation from now on, just an appointment away when you need another amazing fuck, fills you with joyful anticipation.

It is only when you’re pecking away at your dinner, still glowing internally with gratitude for the monster dating app on your phone, that the realisation hits you.

“Oh fuck, where am I going to get that reflection again for future dates?” The look of scorn on that mousy-haired mom’s face flashes back through your mind. “Am I going to have to become some kind of stalker to keep getting fucked like that?”