#all in all this has been really really good for my confidence as a writer!!
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renthony · 2 days ago
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Goddammit I have things to say about Arcane again. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have never been this obsessed with a show that pissed me off so much. Fucking hell.
Longish critical post under the cut.
Husband and I are re-watching Arcane from the beginning, specifically so we can do some critical analysis and frame-by-framing. This watch, I'm really fixated on the way Vi is reintroduced after being in prison, because it does not make any goddamn sense.
If Stillwater is primarily full of Zaunites working for Silco, and Vi is constantly fighting with them, but she's also constantly being tortured by the enforcers...who the fuck is watching her back? How is she alive? Yes, she has a solitary cell, but we see her let out into the common areas. If she has that many enemies in Stillwater, how has she survived this long? The answer seems to be "plot armor," and that's...not a good answer.
If she has literally zero allies in prison, and she is hated by both the inmates and the guards, she'd be dead. Even if we're supposed to assume Marcus gave the order to the other enforcers to keep her alive, we know for a fact that the enforcers are still abusing her, so they clearly don't actually give a shit, nor do they stop the other inmates from fighting with her.
Like, I don't care how much of a badass she is, she has to sleep sometimes. She has to eat sometimes. She has to take a piss sometimes. She is clearly in fighting-fit shape, she is clearly healthy enough to immediately start parkouring all over Zaun after release, so who's letting her have access to workout equipment? You don't get or stay that jacked just by punching a wall. How's she getting enough calories? You don't get the good food if everyone in the prison hates you. For all that she makes a joke to Caitlyn about prison food tasting awful, she is clearly not malnourished.
And who the fuck did her tattoos????? They're extensive and fairly high-quality. If someone else did them, who was she on good enough terms with? If she did it herself, who liked her enough to smuggle, sell, or share supplies with her?
It really wouldn't bug me as much if it weren't for the fact that the narrative seems to want me to see her as a forgotten loner who has nobody in her corner until Caitlyn. Fundamentally, that cannot be true, or Vi would have been murdered and dumped in the water long before Cait showed up.
Also, if Silco has that many people in Stillwater, how does he not have his fingers in the prison smuggling operation that clearly exists? I don't buy it. If he owns Marcus' ass that hard, and he's already involved in smuggling, he'd have spies and smugglers in Stillwater, too. I do not believe that Silco has the power and the confidence to casually threaten Marcus by showing up in the man's personal home, but not enough power and confidence to get spies into a prison that's already full of his own allies/underlings.
There are definitely possible answers to some of these questions, and I certainly have my own headcanons, but it really doesn't feel like the writers' room spent a lot of time thinking about the actual social issues and politics that they invoked for aesthetic.
Usually this is where I'd say, "I wonder what the S&P notes looked like, and I wonder how many episodes they got screwed out of, because so much of this could have been fixed with a little more runtime." Sadly, based on the shit that keeps coming out of Christian Linke's mouth, I don't think we can blame the corporate office for this one. If Christian Linke is telling the truth and the show got all the episodes they wanted, my ever-present "TV writers keep getting screwed, so I have to analyze the finished product with the knowledge that the creators likely got fucked over" goodwill completely vanishes.
The problem really seems to be that the show was written by centrists with a fundamentally flawed understanding of class struggle, drug use, the drug trade, and the prison-industrial complex. It's not surprising, but it does disappoint me.
And while I'm thinking about it, why is Shimmer somehow both drinkable and injectable in seemingly the same form???? Drugs can absolutely come in different forms, but we see people drink the exact same type of shimmer that other people inject. You don't drink injectable drugs. Fuck's sake, this is Skooma levels of "the writers just threw every scary-sounding drug in a blender to make Scary Super Drugs without knowing anything about how real-world drugs work."
Also, if the Firelights' big thing is that they hate Silco Because Of Drugs, I really wanna know how the hell Ekko found that many straight-edge anarchists willing to build a secret compound together. Are they against all drugs, or just shimmer? Where's their line?
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museumgiftshoperaser · 1 year ago
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the doc for my bigbang fic has reached 50k why do i do this to myself ahhhhhhhhh
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thankskenpenders · 17 days ago
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Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations
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The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!
No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.
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The updated Sonic Generations script
The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.
Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.
Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.
In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:
Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!
This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.
And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"
And then here's Ian's rewrite:
Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.
Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.
And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.
Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.
But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.
Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.
So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...
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Gerald Robotnik's Journal
Hoo boy.
The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.
What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.
Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.
(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)
The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.
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1) The Eclipse Cannon
Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.
Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.
See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)
Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.
Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.
(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)
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2) The Biolizard
The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.
As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.
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3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK
Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.
See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.
So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.
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4) Maria
And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.
For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.
Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.
But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:
Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.
This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.
You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.
It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.
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the-californicationist · 1 year ago
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i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.
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lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!
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"The Window" (141/Reader)
You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.  
He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,
“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”
So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well. 
“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”
“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.
“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled. 
“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname. 
“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.” 
“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door. 
“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.
“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.
“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.
“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation. 
“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen. 
So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate. 
There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.
“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”
“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,
“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”
He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis. 
But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages. 
When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare? 
And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound. 
And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand. 
You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt. 
It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised. 
Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand. 
Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load. 
Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened. 
“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”
“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”
“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”
Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission. 
They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking. 
“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into. 
“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”
 He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually. 
“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”
“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”
Price chuckled warmly,
“That boy wants a baby so badly.”
You smiled with him, agreeing, 
“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!” 
Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,
“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”
You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed, 
“You’d be good.”
His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,
“D’you think so, Sparrow?”
“I know so.”
“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing. 
You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy, 
“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”
You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,
“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”
“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes. 
When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated. 
He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time. 
“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”
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Part 2
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casscainmainly · 7 months ago
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My Top 10 Batgirl (2000) Moments
This is my list of top 10 Batgirl (2000) moments!! There were so many to choose from, but these are my personal favs :)). Counting down from 10 to my absolute favourite.
10. Volving
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An absolute classic. Perfectly encapsulates what Cass does throughout the entire run, and more writers should play with Cass' use of language like this!
9. Beat Up Every Mob In Gotham
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Perfect encapsulation of the early Barbara-Cass dynamic, and one of the funniest moments in the series. Just love the expressions and the way this shows so much of Cass' character.
8. Choosing to Write
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The entirety of issue #2 builds up to this heart-wrenching moment. After delivering a dead man's final message to his wife, Cass sees the wife's reaction to the written message and decides to learn to write. A foundational moment for her character, and a nice motherly Babs scene too.
7. Alpha Redemption
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Capping off issues 35 + 36, Batgirl unmasks herself to convince Alpha (an amnesiac villain) that he doesn't have to be defined by his past. Brilliantly displays her core belief that people can change, and the fact that her belief pays off makes this moment extremely moving.
6. For God's Sake
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Possibly a controversial pick, but I really like this moment because it underscores some of the fundamental conflict between Babs and Cass. They love each other, but they don't always understand each other, particularly in regards to each other's disabilities. A painful moment that should have been explored more.
5. Fight For Your Life
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My favourite Stephanie and Cass moment in this run. You can feel Cass' grief throughout this hallucination, but there's also so much hope and love (for Stephanie and for herself). It's an amazing conclusion to Cass' initial suicidal tendencies: instead of desiring death, she now actively fights to live.
4. Darknight Detectives
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This interaction sums up a lot of Bruce and Cass' best moments. Cass' unwavering moral beliefs, Bruce's pride, their instinctive understanding of each other; they just get each other in a way few others do. I picked this one instead of the 'instinct/good answer' moment because it also marks Cass' development in her detective ability. From Moment 8 above to here, the confidence in her mental capacities has grown so much. She really volved!
3. Perfect For A Year
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I mean of course this had to be here. These lines literally take up 90% of my brain space, it's an incredibly tense moment that illustrates Cass' desire to be perfect, her need to be useful and good. This issue is also just awesome.
2. You're... Not
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Another absolute classic. Illustrates Cass' compassion and her belief that people aren't defined by their lineage, which is particularly personal to her, given her own dad. This struggle between good/bad, parent/child defines many of Cass' best stories.
1. Who Do You Think You Are? + Father's Day
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What else would number 1 be?? Issue 33 is my favourite in the entire run, and the entire thing is stacked with moments that could fill up this list. I just love 'who do you think you are' because it's all of Cass' rage spilling out, and yet she still loves David Cain in her own complicated way (and he reciprocates, too). Then we have the ending, which is the BEST Bruce and Cass moment ever. The sparse, meaningful dialogue, the expressions, the reveal of the TITLE: comic book writing at its finest.
Honorary mention to the Shiva/Cass fight, which just narrowly missed out.
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ghouldump · 5 months ago
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Love Me | Lestat de Lioncourt x Bi!Reader
ෆ as your companionship seems to be failing, you retreat, seeking comfort from a woman who looks awfully similar.
a short fic from me to you. bi reader, as well as rockstar lestat, has been high in demand. i actually accidentally deleted a few really good ones, but there i honestly write whenever i’m bored, so more is bound to come along.
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Throwing the large book, you expected it to hit him in the head, but before it could connect, the book went left, falling onto the floor.
“How long will you continue this, ma chérie, you don't menstruate, so why must you go on like this? Hm, do you want to shop, a new handbag, shoes, a new boy toy?” Lestat asked, smirking. Behind the grin, he was incredibly frustrated. The two of you had been arguing for over an hour, and he didn't even know why.
“What does that have to do with anything? You always have to ridicule, when a problem is being addressed,” you screamed, a few tears escaping. As much as you tried to hold them back, the barrier was crumbling, as you grew angrier.
“Are you serious? What is the problem? Go on”
“That boy that you bought home, he looked like him-
“It was merely a coincidence”
“And the one before that, and before that, and many more. All of them resembled him, your Louis,” you whispered, wiping your tears.
“All of them were also drained and burned”
“After you fucked them,” you said, shaking your head as he chuckled.
“50 years, I have given myself to you, and you alone, but I haven't been enough, I’m not Louis”
“Y/n-
“You revealed your identity to the entire world for him. I let you turn me at only nineteen to fill your lonely void, and you’ve never told me you loved me, do you even love me?”
“What kind of point are you trying to prove? I told you, Louis and I had a very different relationship, than what you and I-
“Right, you loved him, and I was the replacement,” you laughed, grabbing your phone and handbag.
“Where are you going?”
“Out, text me from your iPad, if you need anything,” you grumbled. He was too much of an illiterate man-child to even learn how to use a phone, depending on you and Siri.
“The sun will be out soon”
“I won't be long,” you said, making sure to slam the door.
Your emotions were all over the place, angered at the terrible decisions you'd made over the years. You were a young party girl, in the 70s, when you met Lestat. It didn't take long before he was your boyfriend, and you were bragging to your friends about the sex. After months of dating, he confided in you about a weird call from his former lover’s partner, revealing his identity afterward. Soon, he asked you to join him in darkness, and immediately you agreed.
However, looking back, you felt like an idiot, you should've stayed away when the adults told you about the strangeness of Lestat. The rumors of him not aging, only being seen at night. You couldn't see past his charming personality or handsome face, to realize he was trying to fill the void Louis left.
Walking through the French Quarter, you maneuvered through the crowd. You rolled your eyes at all of the tourists, especially since the writer, Daniel Molloy came out with his book, people were flocking to the city.
Going into a random bar, you sat down, your eyes scanning the menu. Alcohol didn't have much of an effect on you, only making you slightly tipsy, but it was something that made you feel human.
“I bought your drink, the least you could do is give me your number,” you heard the man next to you say rudely.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.
“A pineapple martini,” you said, handing him your card.
“I didn't ask you to,” the girl argued.
“Listen, I didn't spend $20 on an overpriced daiquiri just because you're cute-
“And I told you, I didn't ask you to buy it,” she argued.
“Can you two take that elsewhere, I don't want to hear all of that, while I enjoy my drink,” you said, tapping the man’s shoulder.
“No one cares, and keep your hands off-
The man stood from his seat, lunging forward to grab you next, when you caught his arm, twisting it. You watched the man in satisfaction, thinking of how men hadn't changed, even in the 60s, 70s, 80s, and so on — there were always the disgustingly perverted men.
“You don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, it’s gross, but it makes me feel less guilty for breaking your arm,” you said, shrugging before twisting his arm. He screamed in agony, holding his arm as he ran out of the bar, just as your martini was sat down, along with your card.
“Hey, thank you for that,” the woman started, as you sat down. By her accent alone, you knew she was a tourist.
“It was nothing,” you mumbled, twirling the little straw, focused on the drink.
“How did you do that? Do you take self defense classes?” she asked.
“No”
“Well, that was pretty impressive, I don't think I’ve ever seen-
“Lady, I just want to enjoy my drink-
Your eyes widened at the woman, she was perfect, she looked like Lestat, if he had been gender-swapped. Her blonde tresses were inches away from her waist, sky blue eyes, and full pink lips. Her bone structure was symmetrical, her straight teeth as white as milk. She dressed hyper feminine, wearing too much pink and white. You tried not to be weird, forcing your eyes to stop wandering, despite catching a glimpse of her toned body.
“I’m sorry, I know I can talk too much sometimes, sorry,” she apologized.
“You’re fine, I’m just in a shitty mood,” you shrugged.
“What’s wrong?”
“My partner is caught up on his ex, even though they broke up forever ago,” you admitted.
“Why do you hold on to him then?”
“Everything else is perfect about him, I can’t help but want to be loved by him,” you mumbled, thinking of Lestat. Since he revealed himself, he had been very busy, but when he wasn’t, his attention was on you. Waiting for him backstage, in the hotels, in his coffin, the quality time was incredibly intimate.
“If he’s as perfect as you claim, why are you here, obviously upset?” she asked, scooting closer.
“I don’t think I will ever come close to being loved as much as Louis,” you admitted, gulping down the pressure of the tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching to touch your hand.
“I will be fine, are you new to New Orleans?” You asked, staring at her hand laid against your own.
“Yes, I’m Lisa by the way, but I want to move here, I’ll be out here for a few weeks, maybe we can hang out, you could be my personal tour guide,” she said, briefly biting her lip. In her thoughts, she was hopeful, wanting more than to spend time with you. You seemed mysterious and she was dying to know why.
“Y/n, What did you want to do?”
“See historical landmarks, try local cuisines, hang out with you,” she said, leaning towards you.
“Me?”
“A woman as beautiful as you deserves all of the attention”
“I could say the same thing about you,” you smirked, remaining still as she leaned closer, allowing her to press her lips against your own.
As you moved closer, your phone dinged, making you reach into your pocket. Pulling away, you rolled your eyes as you stared at the coffin emoji, paired with a question mark.
“I have to go,” you told her, going to stand.
“Could I have your number, we could hang out sometime, if you're free,” she said, fidgeting. Smirking, you couldn't help but think of how much she looked like him, yet acted completely different.
Laughing, you unlocked your phone, handing it to her. After her number was saved, you were making your way to the townhouse. The sun could be seen coming into view, and just as you began opening the door, you could feel the heat burning against your skin.
“I thought you wouldn't be long,” Lestat said from the top of the stairs, as the door was shut.
“I wasn't”
“You left nearly two hours ago,” he said, following behind you, as you walked past him, up the stairs.
“And I’m home, did you want to argue more?” you asked him, rudely. He was stunned by your tone, but recovered quickly.
“No, I wanted you to return to me, in perfect condition,” he said, watching as you stripped from the clothing, holding your phone near.
“I’m okay, it will heal,” you told him, feeling his eyes on your lightly burned shoulder. You didn't say anything else, climbing into your coffin, and he couldn't admit your already different behavior left him feeling embarrassed.
Just as your eyes were about to shut, your phone lit up, as Lisa’s message appeared on the screen, asking if you made it home safely. Lestat stared at your coffin, hearing the sound of you typing, before slowly moving to his own.
“Sleep well, ma chérie”
“You too,” you said, hearing the sound of his coffin closing.
Lestat was confused by the way you were acting. This wasn't the first and most likely wouldn't be the last time you'd get into an argument, but this time seemed different. You'd leave and eventually come home, and he'd pick a fight, and just as you started to argue back, he would apologize for his actions and everything would fall into place.
Now, just two hours later you acted completely standoffish with him, as if you didn't want to be bothered. Was the argument that serious to you? You understood the love he held for Louis, but that it was best that they remained friends alone. He was with you, he had been all these years, he cared for you, he lo-.
Lestat didn't know how to express himself, arguing, being jealous, possessive, then ravishing you with gifts, that's all he knew. What he didn't realize was his failure to comfort and reassure you, not taking you seriously, you were pulling you away, as you began to desire your needs elsewhere.
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Immediately, Lestat could see the red flags going off, you were gone every night. Some nights before he even woke up, others you'd silently dress in front of him, before leaving. Even when he left for his music business, you always traveled with him, but now you had excuses.
He didn't want to follow you, but he had to, the jealous assumptions were beginning to pile up in his thoughts. Months, it had been months of you ignoring his presence. You’d look at him, hunt with him, and even talk with him if he wanted — but you weren’t putting your all into the relationship anymore. He was making the same mistake as he did with Louis. Choosing when the relationship could and couldn’t open.
He’d dabble in his different tastes regularly, no strings attached, usually killing the person after. You were different, the only way you’d have another person, was if Lestat was present. You weren’t as open to the idea of having others, and in a way, it satisfied Lestat knowing you would never sleep with another, or so he thought.
He had been following you, all the way to Gentilly, until you stopped at the unfamiliar house. His heart could have shattered, as he watched you through the window. The woman, you touched, touched in a way that was only meant for him.
He watched as you and this is unknown woman made love, his heart throbbing. The two of you, going on for what felt like hours, before you were both giggling, going into the bathroom. As the woman came out, grabbing a towel, Lestat was sure his dead heart would stop. This woman, she looked exactly like him, he couldn’t even say he looked better, because they resembled each other so much.
After your shared shower, you both plopped on the bed, holding each other. Your hearts full of passion towards each other.
“Y/n,” Lisa said, playing with your sharp nails.
“Hm?” You answered, your eyes closed. Her warm skin felt nice against your forever icy skin.
“I think I love you,” she said, making you open your eyes.
“What?” You asked, looking at her.
“I love you, I know it’s only been a few months, but that’s all I needed with you to know,” she said. You could feel the tears building up, as you pressed your lips against her own.
Staring at her, you could only see Lestat, the one who stole your heart all those years ago. No matter how idiotic you’re decision was, at the time. All you wanted was for him to declare his love for you, with his mouth.
“Say it again, please?” You asked her, as you pulled away.
“I love you,” she smiled brightly, smashing her lips into yours, as she pulled you back into a hug.
Lestat had tears pouring down his face, as he turned to leave. He didn’t think he could watch any more of whatever that was supposed to be. He couldn't take the idea of you being loving or being loved by another. All this started because of love, you claiming he didn't love you.
“Lisa, tell me you love me, once more,” you said, as you began to glamour her.
“I love you,” she exclaimed.
“No, you don't, you never met me, you won't recognize my face and you will never approach me, do you understand?” you asked her, watching as she silently nodded, you wiped the bloody tear from your eye, just as it escaped,
“Yes”
“You will sleep now, you're very tired,” you said, watching as she nodded, dozing off. She lay beautifully, as you covered her with the blanket. You couldn't replace him, even with the female doppelganger — especially with her. Lisa was a sweet girl, you didn't want to take away her life, revealing your nature, for your selfish reasons.
Leaving her home, you silently went back to your shared townhouse. It was quiet, Lestat already in his coffin, as you undressed.
“Good night,” you mumbled, getting into your coffin.
If this would be life, then you accepted it, second to Louis. You loved Lestat with every piece of your soul, so much that you could take not being loved, but being liked enough to be in his presence.
As the sun eventually left, you got up, dressing to go hunt. You found a random man, draining him in an alley, but as you made your way back home, your eyebrows furrowed. Entering the house, your eyes widened at the sight.
Exotic dancers, well over ten of them, all with wavy blonde hair and shades of blue eyes. A few of them were fawning at Lestat, but he paid none of them any kind of attention.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“For you, ma chérie, I’ll drain them, but I’ll let do whatever you please with them first,” he grinned.
“What are you talking about? Get them out, now,” you said, shrugging off a hand that was about to rub your shoulder. Watching as Lestat controlled them, sending them away, before he sat down, drained from the action.
“What is wrong with you? Bringing all of those women here? God, why don't you think,” you grumbled.
“I was just trying to appease your passions since they were more of your type, I mean, it only took a few months for you to find out,” he shrugged, making you realize he had been there.
“You can't be serious, you're such a creeper,” you laughed bitterly.
“For months, I’ve reached out to you, and you recoiled at my touch, just for me to find out you're having an affair with a woman, who looks too much like me”
“And how is that any different than what you've done?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“I heard you both, making love to her, kissing her, touching her the way that you do me. Texting her throughout the day, you're in love with her,” Lestat cried.
“I’m in love with you, but you love Louis. I can't replace him, so I wanted to replace you,” you said, turning to storm away, when he caught your hand.
“I will always love Louis but don't think that I don't love you. You are my wife, my companion, the one who saved me from myself. I don't want to see you with another, only me,” he confessed. His face was covered in blood from the tears pouring down his face.
“And you have me, but you have to say it, I know you show it in your own ways, but to hear it from your lips, would help me so much,” you told him.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I know, I am a hypocrite, but end your affair, I can't take knowing you love another, I love you” he pouted.
“Fine, you won't have to worry about her,” you told him, as he moved closer to embrace you. Swiftly, he lifted you, holding you in his arms.
“Are we made up now?”
“Yes, love”
“I don't know how much I could take of that excruciating cycle of neglect,” he expressed.
“Lestat?” you said, as he sat down, having you straddle his lap.
“Yes, chérie?”
“Tell me again, tell me you love me,” you said, sighing in fulfillment as his arms wrapped around your body.
“I love you and I’ll say it as many times as you need”
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darknight3904 · 1 year ago
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!
You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.
It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.
"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.
"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.
"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.
One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.
"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.
You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.
"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed
"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out
" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth
"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.
"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"
He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him
"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile
"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.
"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.
"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side
"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.
Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.
"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you
"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.
Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.
"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.
"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.
"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks
"You love it." He sighed into your skin.
Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games
You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?
It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.
"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly
"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat
"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said
"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.
"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say
"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies
"So you were just comforting her?" You ask
"Yes. Nothing more." He says
Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?
"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.
You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.
"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.
"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended
"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh
"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed
"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say
"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage
"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up
"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says
"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter
"That wasn't cheating." He says
"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask
"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says
"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."
"She'll win." He assures himself
"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.
"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer
"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."
"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently
"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly
"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you
"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh
"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."
You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.
"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."
Part 2
In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.
The teaser for Part Two can be found here
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lueurjun · 7 months ago
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f1 driver!boyfriend heeseung.
request — if you are accepting requests i was thinking maybe something like formula one driver heeseung x reader where they travel to support him at his races all around the world, and also watching their boyfriend become world champion at the end of the season? thank you <3 !! 🎀
eek ! sorry this took so long. i have been in a deep writers block. but i hope you enjoy this lovely <3 this is long, my bad… i got carried away because i loved writing this. i had so much fun im not even kidding, i think i’m going to turn this into a written series for heeseung.
refer to this edit for the vibes—it has me in a chokehold and gave me the motivation for this.
rocking back and forth because ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
LEE HEESEUNG?? FORMULA ONE DRIVER?
SEDATE ME ! I NEED THIS
ahem anyways :)
heeseung’s career began at eight years old when his parents finally gave in and allowed him to start go karting.
f1 was his dream! he had posters in his room. miniature car figurines in a glass case that he didn’t let anybody touch. he sat for every race, knew every driver and owned so much merch that his mother had to hide her credit card
it’s giving maddy knew who she was from a young age- it’s giving obsession- it’s giving me with my enhypen obsession-
it was clear from the get go that this kid had some talent. he knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it better than anyone else
though he’s always been a little bit of a shit talker and ended up in several friendly feuds with other upcoming drivers.
lmao can you imagine 8 year old heeseung bickering with max verstappen?
as he grew older, he began competing in various competitions, and won the majority of them which opened up the doors to competing internationally
years later, he secures a position in F3 and gradually works his way up to F2. eventually, he makes it into F1 as one of the most promising drivers, under the guidance of red bull
now let’s introduce you
*louder than heeseung* hey 😘😉
you met Heeseung at one of his karting races when he was 15. instantly recognizing his potential, you had him sign your phone case, insisting that he was going to be famous one day and you wanted to sell it on ebay when he did.
absolute icon if you ask me
he thought you were being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel flattered by your confidence. after signing your phone case, he surprised you by asking for your number.
and who are you to pass up on the opportunity to keep in touch with a soon to be famous racer?
i can race faster than him just sayin ✋🙂‍↔️🤚 broom broom
the two of you remained in touch, and you attended as many races as possible to support him as a best friend. two years later, just as he secured a seat in F2, heeseung nervously asked you to be his partner.
which, of course, you were more than happy to.
now, onto present day: f1 driver heeseung with you, his beloved partner.
not you in your wag era-
i genuinely see you owning a tiktok account where you kinda just post daily grwms or vlogs which feature heeseung and your life travelling with him
and everybody eats it up because they get to see the human side of heeseung not just the aggressive driver that shit talks everything and everyone
yes i’m making him a sassy shit talker because i want to SUE ME
you kinda prove to his haters that he’s actually a huge nerd with the cutest personality, which garners him a lot more support
his team ADORES you for this
but it’s also really funny because why is the p2 winner, cocky red bull driver giving your followers a haul on all of his toy story merch?
his helmet is definitely custom designed as buzz lightyear and i find that absolutely adorable
he also has your initial on his helmet somewhere that everyone thinks is so sickeningly cute
he calls it his good luck charm
you receive some hate with jealous people accusing you of only wanting his money and fame
haters come outside i’m not gonna do anything. haha. i just wanna talk ( and set their hair on fire ) just a lil chit chat 😃
but for the most part, you are actually very much adored
if fans see you walking around, they call out for you to take pics with them
which you do, albeit with a little hesitance, as you’re not used to the spotlight and don’t quite understand why people idolise you.
ummmm because you’re perfect🫶 hope this helps
in this scenario, you’re a full time influencer which makes it easy for you to travel alongside him and attend all of his races
which is good because you couldn’t make his japan gp due to an issue and he damn near lost his mind
bro was STRESSING
i would be too if i had u and had to deal with a couple days without u 🫶
he made it everyone’s issue
his team were so tired of him that they sent you multiple texts begging for you to get on a flight
he was so sassy during his interviews and the viewers immediately knew it was because you weren’t there
‘bringy/nback’ trended with memes making fun of him for being a brat without you there
he finished really badly that weekend
bro relies on you fr
when you eventually returned at his side for his next race
he was back to his angelic self
you made him apologize to all the team
imagine you stood behind him with your arms crossed, shaking your head while he sheepishly apologises in front of everyone for being difficult HAHHAHA
he was all smiles in his interview and got p1 because he was eager to impress you
gigglin and kickin my feet BECAUSE HES SO CUTE
and you’re stood in the paddock, watching with the biggest grin on your face
when the podium celebration rolls around, you’re front row and he makes sure you get hit with some champagne with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen
he ruined your very expensive outfit but you didn’t have it in you to be mad
i would never do that to you personally- just saying, your clothes would always be in pristine condition if you were with me… just sayin ✋😌🤚
when the two of you leave literally anywhere, he gets swarmed by fans
tells them to wait a second, and gets you to the car safely before he jogs over to sign some stuff
if you can’t get to the car, he makes sure your hand is in his, keeping you close whilst he signs things
he’s always hyper aware of your safety in public
if you’re instantly met with flashing lights, he will either cover your eyes or take off his hat and put it on your head to shield you
your safety always comes before his
also can we talk about your fashion?
you always dress to impress, never a bad outfit day
pfft is anyone surprised? you’re literally gods gift to earth- MOVE HEESEUNG
travel days are always so tiring for heeseung
which is when you become the protective one
holding him protectively whilst you both wait for your flight
running your hands through his hair
he holds you so tight; he doesn’t care who sees or about getting teased by his fellow drivers
when you’re finally in the air, whether it be private jet or not, you always make yourself into a personal pillow for him
it could be the cushiest flight known to man, and you’d still be his pillow
that should be me fr
he sleeps like a baby the whole time
and you don’t mind because you know he needs it
in the days leading up to the championship, he becomes…
unbearable? whiny? annoying? come here, i’d never- sorry sorry 😔
tense…
his stress levels are through the roof and nothing really helps other than just letting him be
he’s snappier than usual, but after many years together, you’ve learned to let it go
because you know this is a huge deal for him and he always apologises afterwards
the only thing you can really do is serve as his support and try to relax him as best as you can
like couple spa days when his schedule isn’t crammed
sightseeing to enjoy the beautiful country
even lying in your hotel room the night before, reminiscing about your relationship and his journey to becoming one of the best
you’d feel his heartbeat beneath your back which would be pressed up against him
his shaky breaths against the side of your neck as he pressed nervous kisses beneath your ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe
god… i’ve seen what you’ve done for others
“will you still love me if i don’t win tomorrow?”
you can tell he’s straddling the line between joking and genuinely needing reassurance
so, you do what you always do
you turn, cup both of his cheeks in your palms, and press your forehead against his
“you look funny.”
he’d giggle, and you’d start wiggling your eyebrows to make him laugh harder
and he always does, because to him, you’re the funniest person he’s ever met
then, you’d scrunch up your nose and gently sweep it against his, eventually leaving a kiss on the bridge.
“i will love you no matter what. even if you wake up tomorrow and decide that you want to quit, i will love you. even if you decide to walk away from it all, i will love you. because at the end of the day, it’s not the trophies that matter or the podiums. it’s you. you, you, you! your happiness, your peace of mind. you are my greatest achievement; you are my championship win. and i will love you until my heart beats its last pump of blood.”
if you look closely, you can see me drowning in the shower-
a million kisses are shared that night before the two of you finally slip into a steady sleep
when the next morning rolls around, heeseung doesn’t talk much as he gets himself ready for the race
you’re a bundle of nerves as you follow behind him, hand clutched in his own
pre race cuddles are a must in his little rest room
there’s not much talking, heeseung quite likes his silence to gather his mind and enter his racing headspace
but his hold on you, and the way he looks at you speaks for itself. you don’t need his words to know that he loves you and he wants to win not only for himself or red bull, but you.
“if we win this, i’ll give you my helmet to sell on ebay. i think it would go nicely with the signature i gave you at 15.”
your heart quite literally melts into a puddle at the memory
you grin, peppering a bunch of kisses all over his face until you finally land on his lips, soaking in the pre race nerves and savouring the taste of nutella from his pancakes he had that morning
“oh, i am going to be absolutely loaded.”
the two of you share a laugh, knowing silently that you’d never sell it on ebay because it’s tucked away in your memory box, where it will stay until you’re grey and old
a piece of the past where the two of you very first met
the peace drains from the room as though a plug had been pulled from the bathtub, with tension and nerves flooding in
look at me getting all poetic 😌
heeseung doesn’t let go of your hand until he absolutely has to
leaving you alongside his family members with a kiss so passionate it left your mind reeling
his mother grabs your hand after sharing her own moment with him, and the two of you hold on tight to the hope that he’s going to win
the race is tense, you’re almost in tears from the chaos and the nerves
your heart feels like it’s seconds from stopping as the end to the final lap approaches with heeseung in close second
he’s going to overtake, and you’re not quite sure whether your heart could handle it
STOP WHY IS MY HEART POUNDING AS IF IM THERE PLS
you grip onto his mother, the two of you holding onto each other in anticipation
it happens within seconds, you barely have time to process it
heeseung overtakes, barely missing the Ferrari car as he does so
several seconds later, your world stops as the red bull team bursts into celebration
someone is shaking you, gripping onto you with pure elation but everything is in slow motion
heeseung just won the world championship
your heeseung just won
nah because why am i crying? someone take my laptop i’m far too into this
you choke out a sob, allowing his mother to cradle you in her arms with tears flowing down her own cheeks
you’re a crying mess, blubbering proudly and unable to make sense of anything
you don’t even care that the camera is on you, displaying your reaction for everyone to see
“he did it!”
“he absolutely did!”
you don’t know how much time has passed before he’s running towards you, yanking the helmet off
there’s no time to process anything before he sweeps you up into his arms, pressing kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could fit
he holds you like you’re the trophy, lifting you up proudly like a medal
tears cascade down your cheeks like a summer waterfall, while warmth and joy spread through you
he did it. he actually did it.
“get that helmet signed, boy. i’m gonna be rich!”
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novlr · 2 months ago
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I have a bad habit of never finishing writing I start - I work hard on a story, make it to 3/4 of the way through, then lose passion for it and start something else. I know the key to overcoming this is discipline, and I’m trying very hard to make myself keep going with my current story that I like very much and spent so much time researching and outlining, but it’s a struggle every day to make my writing goal. Any advice for how to re-ignite writing spark or how to push through to the end?
We can lose our drive to write for a lot of reasons. It often indicates a growing maturity as an artist — you understand the craft better and your own (current) limitations better, and so you begin to feel overwhelmed in a way you didn’t before. It can also be that external anxieties are getting in the way or simply that you’ve lost interest in your current project. 
Hope is not lost. Read on for some tips on reclaiming your writing spark. 
Shift gears
Sometimes, all you need to reignite your writing spark is to engage your brain in a different way. If you’re struggling with your novel, take a break and try writing a poem or a piece of flash fiction. Or, you could try drawing sketches of your characters, a map of your story’s world, or some possible outfits for your climactic battle scene (it doesn’t have to be good. No one’s going to see it). 
The trick is to stay creative but to approach your work from a different angle. 
Change location
If you’ve been trying and failing to write at your desk, surrounded by crumpled up dreams drafts and last week’s candy wrappers, you may be suffering from an environment with stagnant energy. Try taking yourself on a writer’s date: go to a location that fits the tone of the project you’re working on (lux hotel lobby, seedy theatre bar, the wilds of a nearby park), and see if that gets your creative wheels turning. 
Dress [in]appropriately 
In Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg has a chapter called “Blue Lipstick and a Cigarette Hanging Out Your Mouth”. By this she meant, “Use outfits and props to step outside yourself and get a new perspective”. You might find it helpful to have a special “writer’s sweater” that you only wear when you’re writing or to dress like someone confident and cool enough to smash writer’s block in the face. 
Do some soul-searching
What’s really going on here? If the above tricks aren’t doing it for you, there may be some bigger issues at play that are inhibiting you from connecting to your writing spark. 
Write letters
I’ve written about the restorative powers of letter writing before, and I’ll mention it again: handwritten letters are a great way to get the words flowing. You don’t actually have to send them when you’re done (although you can if you want to); the recipient doesn’t even need to exist. Simply by putting your thoughts down in a low-risk way, you’re unclogging your creative pipes. 
Join a writing group
There’s power and accountability in numbers. You can find writing groups online, through community centres and writers centres, or by sticking a flyer up in a bookshop and starting your own. There’s even a Novlr writing community on Discord where we share tips, struggles, and just generally talk craft! By inviting other people into your writing practice, you’ll have some support and encouragement to keep you going. 
Find your writing spark with writing prompts
The internet is awash with writing prompts. These can be a helpful way to get something down on paper and stretch out your writing muscles. Whether it’s a premise, an opening line, or a character study, writing prompts can give you a gentle, creative push and even inspire new work.
Experiment with found structure
If writing a traditional story feels like pulling out your own teeth, try a found structure story. This means using fictional “found material” like shopping lists, calendars, to-do lists, ticket stubs, banking records, and so forth to create a narrative. 
Here’s an example: Imagine a week in which a bride-to-be prepares for her glorious wedding, is left at the altar, rages in misery, and ultimately emerges healthier and stronger. Now, write her shopping list for each day of that week. How does it change from beginning to end? How much emotional detail can you communicate to the reader through the items that appear on these lists? This can be a fun way to create a story without the anxiety of writing it.
Set a petty life goal
I am a proud champion of the value of pettiness as a motivator. There are plenty of noble reasons to write: to share powerful stories, to help readers in need of healing, to inspire others to write stories themselves, and to draw attention to important social issues or minority identities. 
There are also some really inane and selfish reasons to write: to become more famous than your ex, to appear on TV and make your ex regret everything they’ve ever done to you, to have your book made into a movie and receive casting consultation rights and pitch your favourite actor in the lead role and allow them to take you for coffee as a thank you. But the thing is… these are the motivations that are really going to pull you out of the dirt when you need it most. Find the silly driving goal that really gets under your skin and hold onto it for dear life. 
Forgive yourself
Many writers experience a lot of shame when they aren’t writing as much as they feel they should. Needless to say, this shame only makes the writing harder. Allow yourself the space to take some time when you need it, process your struggles, and return when you’re ready. The page will be waiting when you get back. 
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little-diable · 8 months ago
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Marry Me - Dean Winchester (smut)
This can be read as a part 2 to this fic - but you don’t need to read it to understand the story line. The lyrics are from the song “Joy of my Life” by Chris Stapleton. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Dean finally finds his confidence to ask (y/n) to marry him.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, super fluffy, slight jealousy and possessiveness
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2k words)
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She's sweet to me, must be the luckiest man alive. Did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?
“Isn't it funny that this car has seen all our good but also our ugly days?” (Y/n)’s voice filled the Impala as she held onto her food, taking another bite while letting her eyes wander. Dean and her were parked in the middle of nowhere, another getaway from Sam and the bunker the couple had been desperate for. 
It had been a while since Dean had taken her stargazing, letting their eyes take in the most beautiful spectacle, while Dean’s hand had found the small pocket of his jacket, touching the box of the ring he had been carrying around with himself for a while. 
“She really has, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Dean studied his girlfriend with an unreadable expression (y/n) tried to pay no mind to as she got lost in her memories, remembering the first time she had sat in the Impala. 
“So, that’s Baby, huh?” She whispered the words while she let her fingertips trace the leather of the dark seat she sank into. A proud smirk was resting on Dean’s lips as he nodded his head, mimicking her wandering gaze. 
“My most prized possession.” The words had left Dean’s parted lips before he could stop himself, cursing himself for saying this to his new girlfriend. But all (y/n) did was laugh and shake her head at her grinning boyfriend who stared at her with excitement laced in his gaze.
“What is it, Dean?” Her voice grew lower as the words rumbled through her, letting them vibrate on her lips. He moved closer to press a kiss to her lips while his right hand found the back of her headrest, keeping himself close to her. 
“The backseats are quite comfortable, if you feel like testing them out.” Dean’s words drew a gritty laugh from (y/n) as she only nodded her head before finding her way to the backseat. Within seconds she found herself straddling Dean’s lap while their lips got lost in a rough kiss. 
“I still remember the first time you introduced me to Baby, I was sure you’d eventually end up marrying your car.” Her laughter had an addicting effect on Dean, drawing a few from him as well while he kept studying (y/n). His heart began to beat faster in his chest as his thoughts began to race. 
Perhaps this was the moment he had always been waiting for. This was the perfect spot, hidden in the dark, while Baby offered them enough comfort and distraction, away from their busy life and home. Dean took one last bite of his burger before he wiped his fingers and slowly reached for his pocket, closing his fist around the velvety black box. 
(Y/n) had her all too oblivious gaze focused on the window, once again remembered of another night they had spent in this car. 
Silence filled Baby. A thick silence that left (y/n)’s heart painfully clenching in her chest. No word had been shared between her and Dean since their fight, an escalation of jealous words and angry sensations they couldn’t shake. 
“Do you really think I’d cheat on you?” Her voice was small as she spoke the words, letting them rumble through Baby while she shuffled around on the seat to look at Dean, who was laying behind her. 
It took him a few moments to speak up as he closed eyes as if he was trying to shake the memories of what had drawn these ugly words from his parted lips. It had been foolish, a stupid mistake he had instantly regretted as tears had welled up in her eyes. 
“No, I don’t.” She was a friendly soul, always had been, but it was something Dean clearly struggled to accept, especially when she shared one of the smiles he wanted to be the only one receiving, with strangers. She was a beautiful woman, it was no surprise that men chatted her up whenever she stood alone, without Dean near, and yet it still left him spiralling, urged on by his fear of losing her. 
“You know,” (y/n) cleared her throat as she also finished her food. Slowly she turned her head back towards her boyfriend, while pondering over the words she so desperately had wanted to speak for months now. “We haven’t really talked about marriage and all these things before, but I can’t help but wonder, if that is even something you’d want.” 
Dean could tell that she was nervous about speaking these words, struggling to let them roll off her tongue while fumbling with her fingers. A shaky exhale left him before he reached for her hand with his free one, letting their fingers interlace. 
“Do you remember when we went stargazing a few weeks ago?” (Y/n) could only nod her head with a slight confusion tugging on her features. 
“I had promised myself that I’d ask you to marry me that night, but even though I was never so sure of something as I am of the love I have for you, I still fear that one day you’ll pack your bags to run from this mess we are stuck in. Sam told me that I don’t need to be scared, because you’d never do that. And I know that, deep down I really do, but perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, the right day. But now, here, with Baby,” the rest of his sentence was left hanging in the air. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she watched Dean pull his left hand from the pocket of his jacket, exposing a small box to her eyes.
“Will you marry me, (y/n)?” The words were whispered, filling the small space before a sob broke out of her. All (y/n) could do was whisper a small "Of course" as Dean opened the box to expose the most beautiful ring she has ever seen. 
Both their hands were shaking. Dean had his eyes set on her finger as he slowly slid the ring onto it – all while being unable to bite down his grin at the sight. Her hands found his cheeks to pull him in for a teeth clashing kiss, drawing desperate moans from them in unison. 
First time that I saw you, you took my breath away. I might not get to Heaven, but I walked with the angels that day
“I love you, Dean Winchester.” She mumbled the words against his lips as he held her close, letting another shaky though relieved sigh pass his lips. 
“I love you too, future Misses Winchester.” Her teary laughter rumbled through her as Dean kissed her again, deepening the kiss with his wandering tongue and his impatient hands. Her mind was racing, still trying to understand what had just happened, something she had been thinking of since meeting Dean, and yet she had never dared to have the talk with him.
God, how lucky she was, getting married to the man she never wanted to part from again, forever glued to his side as if their fate had been interlinked since their births. 
“Backseat?” His question vibrated against her lips while (y/n) choked on her moan, desperate for him to fuck her on the seats that had experienced their best and their worst moments. For a second, they parted, to find their way to the backseats, before (y/n) straddled his lap and let her hands undo his trousers, while they kissed again, and again. 
“I can’t believe I get to marry you. I must have done something right after all.” Dean’s words left her heart clenching in her chest. (Y/n) wanted to tell him that there was so much he had done right in his life, that there were so many things he should be proud of, but the words died on her tongue as his fingers disappeared beneath her dress to wander over the damp fabric of her panties. The groan leaving Dean made her buzz in excitement, unable to bite down a groan of her own. 
“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, sweetheart.” He began to rub her pulsing bundle through the thin fabric, while she finally managed to free his hardening cock. Their eyes held contact as (y/n) spat into her hand before she began to pump him, giving them both enough courage to let go of their sounds to fill the dark Impala. 
“Dean, don’t waste any time, I want to feel you inside of me.” Her moaned words left Dean chuckling in glee, a gritty sound that made her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally sink into her. Their eyes held contact as his tongue kissed his teeth, sinking further into the seat while his fingers pushed her panties aside. She held her dress up to offer him a view that made his cock twitch, watching her position herself while he could only stare up at her and thank his lucky stars for pushing them together. 
Both let go of a heavy moan as (y/n) sank down on his cock. She allowed herself to rest for a moment, to push her forehead against his, while both took a deep breath. Slowly she began to move, supported by Dean’s hands, who couldn’t stop his fingertips from digging into her skin. 
The sound of their bodies moving filled Baby, followed by sinful sounds they couldn’t stop from breaking through them. Both were grateful for the darkness that had wrapped them in a comforting embrace, clinging to them to hide their frames from anybody who could walk past the Impala. Stuck in their own bubble, forever interlinked.
“I always knew you were perfect for me, fuck, I can’t believe I get to marry you.” Dean’s head rolled back against the headrest to stare at his now fiancée, the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever been fortunate enough to look at. She was perfect in any and every way, crafted for him only, made to cling to his body. God, sex had never felt like that before he had met (y/n), it had never been this intense, this raw, this loving. He wouldn’t trade this for the world, forever glued to her side. 
“Dean,” (y/n) whined his name as she reached for his hand to push it closer to her pulsing bundle, needing the extra friction to push that familiar heat through her aching body. Their foreheads met, pressed together as they trembled, knowing that their highs were oh so very close. 
He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting her thrusts, trying to bury himself even deeper inside of her as she trembled in his lap. He’d fight every creature, every being for this sight. Dean would do anything to hold her like this for the rest of their lives. 
“Look at me, (y/n).” His choked words forced her eyes to meet his green ones, holding contact as she came for him. Dean’s hips began to move again, jerking upwards to fuck them through her high, only to follow her a few seconds later to imprint himself on her walls. 
“I can’t wait for the night of our wedding.” Dean panted the words that drew a laugh from (y/n). She rested her forehead on his shoulder, holding herself to him as he was still buried deep inside of her. 
“Of course this is the only thing you think of. I can’t believe I’m marrying such a horny bastard.” His hands began to tickle her, forcing a loud laugh out of (y/n) as she threw her head back, letting the sounds fill the car.
“You wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.” 
Some may have their riches, some may have their worldly things, as long as I have you, I′ll treasure each and every day
Just take me by the hand, I am the luckiest man alive, did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?
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toomiieimagiines · 4 months ago
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hihihi
uhm so am i allowed to request again (i don’t wanna spam) 😭😭🙏
and if i am can u pls do a rui x hopeless romantic best friend reader (i’m totally normal about best friends to lovers lmfao)
so like the reader is always yapping about hot guys and it’s a little angsty at first because rui is thinking to himself ‘why did i have to fall inlove with someone that won’t ever choose me’ and then one day a hot guy comes up to reader and asks her out, reader is about to say yes but then she realises that she barely knew him and there was someone (rui) who had been by her side since day one and she figures out who she really loves (RUIII) so she rejects him and when rui asks why she just hugs him and says ‘because your the one i really want’ mwah mwah i feel like such a genius (i really hope this made sense lmao be prepared for a million bestie-> lovers and angst-> fluff rui requests 😼)
thank youyoyoyoyoyuuu!!
hi guys! i’m so so incredibly sorry for how inactive i have been! unfortunately, the fanfic writer curse caught up to me, and i’ve had considerably bad things happen to me! ToT
i had developed a really bad addiction after a recent episode - which may be why i’ve loved to write my characters so miserable, but they get a happy ending in the end - and have recently relapsed after a couple months. i’ve also been struggling with a lot of things, like being bullied again, pressure from theater, classes, autism, parental issues, memory of past trauma, having no friends, things like that. i’ve just been having a really hard time, so writing has been super difficult for me. i’m currently having some of the worst mental health in my life, and am un-recovering from other things i’ve had in the past too, after seeing the results of my recovery. sorry if this triggered anybody, i just needed to get this off my chest, and felt also that i should explain where i have been. you all supporting me has kept me going, and i hope you enjoy this one too! LETS END THE PITY PARTY!!!
in other - not so depressing news - here you guys go!! sorry for OOCness, obviously this is a more dramatic approach to a story! happy ending, j tried to write the inner narration differently for how you two were feeling at the time.. and ty once again for such a great idea, mama ^3^
“I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me.”
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If he has to sit here and listen to this one more time, he thinks he’ll go insane.
Rui Kamishiro loves you. He truly does. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his-
Never mind.
Rui loves you, but he absolutely HATES your taste in guys, and it’s driving him nuts. Nodding and agreeing can only get him so far before he wants to rip his own hair out, and tonight is no exception.
“I give up! All boys are dumb, I don’t need them!” You lament, resting your chin in your hands. It’s the same song and dance over and over. You swear off boys, you get attention, you get sucked in, and he has to pick up the pieces when it inevitably fails. How many times has he thought about how much better he would treat you now? He doesn’t know. He’d be a classical lover, he’d never speak to you the way those stupid unprincipled high school boys do.
Gross. That’s his best friend, why’d he think that? And when did he start being so self confident? He really outta look at himself in the mirror. What an egomaniac he’s turning out to be.
He shakes his head.
“You do know I’m still a boy, right?” He prods, trying to cheer you up. He knows this situation well, and he knows exactly how to make you feel better. Again he’d pull you out of this, and again he’d watch you fall in love.
He wishes you could be happy. He wishes you weren’t in love with being in love. You’re too pure for true love, love is disgusting, depraved, and unkind. You’re not anything like that.
“I know, I know, but you’re the only good one!” You point, words self-assured. “I don’t need a boyfriend, you do everything boyfriendy for me anyway!”
Ouch. Thanks a lot, that’s exactly what he needed to hear right now. He’s not gonna dwell on that last bit for now, he’ll wait until he’s home. Then he can- he doesn’t know. Cry, or something juvenile like that.
“So I’m back-up-boyfriend?” He masks himself in jest, smiling teasingly at you.
“Eh, maybe,” you snicker, “you’d definitely be cute if you weren’t my friend.”
He turns to his school work sharply, trying to mask his complete and utter despair. Ugh, why does he have to be so dramatic? His own personality makes his skin crawl with disgust and hatred, and that only makes him cringe more. He could think about how obnoxious he is all day. Maybe he should use that go home and cry pass early. He pretends to check the time, as if that isn’t all he’s been doing.
“It’s getting late, after this problem I should get going.” He mutters, scribbling some random numbers into his notebook. You yawn in response, being broken out of absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.
“Ugh, I wish you didn’t have to go!” You drape an arm over his torso, trying to hold him in. He smiles fondly, wrestling to get you off of him.
“I’d have to walk home in the dark then, do you want that?” He knows you’d never let him, and he sees it immediately.
Your face looks knowing, and you let him go right away. It amuses him at first, but quickly fills him with overwhelming pity. You’re so kindhearted it makes him sick. You shouldn’t worry about someone like him, it’s bad for your health.
“Would you like me to walk home with you?!” You shoot up, the idea of him not being safe running through your head. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. How emasculating! He’s not a helpless young girl! He’s just as manly as those boys who you long for, he’s not a puppy to be walked!
God, is jealously turning him into a bigot? He shakes his head once again, this time not just to clear his thoughts. He’s absolutely not letting you walk him home, it’d be mortifying. He takes your attention belly up, you should have a break. Maybe some time to yourself for a change? God, Rui, get a grip.
“I’m fine, I don’t want you out late by yourself either,” he assures, looking at you in haste.
“Ah. You have a point.”
“I always do.” He means more to that, and he wishes he could tell you. He wants you to see that even he knows what he’s talking about. He needs you to see him, just for once. Not as a best friend, or backup boyfriend, just as a regular one. As a lover who dances in the rain, or ties your shoes
He needs to stop. He shouldn’t think about you like that. It’s lecherous.
You two exchange goodbyes, giving him a long hug (much to his horror). He hates how feverish it is it hold you like this, it makes him feel guilty. His body gets hot, his cheeks flare up, his throat feels tight- it makes him feel like a pervert, even if his thoughts are the farthest thing from lewd.
He feels that everything he thinks about you is repulsive, though.
“Be safe”’s and “See you later”’s are passed between you two, and he walks down your front steps, now completely alone. His eyes scan the damp pavement, seeing the golden hues from the sky light the boring rock. That’s how he feels about you, he decides. You’re the sun, and he’s the pavement. He humors himself by thinking that your suitors are the clouds, stopping you from shining your light for him so he can grow weeds in the cracks of his soul. That’s what these feelings are. Weeds.
He wants to live life beautifully with you, he decides. He wants to tie your shoes, he wants to twirl you as you dance.
He wishes he could be the moon. Something of consequence- of importance, but he’s just the pavement. Not the earth, not the stars, not the clouds, or rain, he’s just a man made monster who destroys nature - you - and is walked over by people who do matter.
He should quit being this way, he grumbles, it doesn’t do anybody any good to be so flowery. He’s too girly- too weak. Maybe that’s why you don’t like him. If you’re willing to date anything that moves other than him, that must mean he’s on a completely new level, huh?
That’s what dreaming gets you, Rui. Crushed dreams and embarrassment.
He lets out a pitiful sigh, kicking a pebble with his shoe. He sees a worm in a lawn which reminds him of himself, he sees a couple shopping for a new game which reminds him of you, he sees a convenience store which reminds him that he’s hungry-
His life can be so mundane sometimes, what a drag.
He’s about to reach his front door, when he steps into a puddle. It feels like an appropriate representation of his life right now. A sense of disgraceful hilarity washes over him, and he begins to laugh. He laughs a while, he laughs as he takes his shoes off, he laughs as he peels his button up down, and he laughs as he lays in his bed. How dramatic he could be some times!
He falls asleep quickly. He has a dream about being on stage and forgetting his lines.
He wakes up with a thud, he fell out of bed. How embarrassing. He decides to check his phone.
Weirdo: RUII
Weirdo: wanna hang w me 2day?? u don’t have dance time right??
Weirdo: gonna kill you. WAKE UP
Me: I’m awake, sorry!
Weirdo: finally sleeping beauty
Weirdo: wanna get a snack? i’m simply starved…
Me: When?
Weirdo: an hr maybe…
Me: Okay :) I’ll tell you when I leave.
Weirdo: kay!!
He really doesn’t feel like being social today, but he’d never pass up an opportunity to see you. He’s an obscene degenerate when it comes to you, pouncing on your attention like a sick dog. It’s mortifyingly pathetic.
He gets dressed, throwing on a boring striped sweater. It’s getting colder outside recently, and he’s always ran cold anyway. His hands are shaky and nervous as he brushes his teeth, the anxiousness to see you making his body jittery. He considers breakfast, but quickly shuts the idea down. He doesn’t want to be stressed out - at least more than he already is - when he sees you. Twitchy hands lock his door, and he gets a few feet away before he double checks that he did, in fact, lock it. Pull yourself together, Rui! He screams at himself.
The walk is just as unexciting as he expected, albeit a bit chilly. He’s feeling thankful for the sweater. The breeze runs its hands through his hair, and he’s reminded that winter is coming. He always liked Autumn flowers the best, hibiscus flowers are pretty too, he supposes. It’s nice to have the warmth of the sun soothing his cold hands during summer, for sure.
He trips over a rock on the way, and his pants get wet on the knees. Khaki blends into an ugly brown, and he sighs. How unlucky, would anything go right for him today?
Turns out it will, you look really good today.
You great him at the door, practically buzzing with eagerness. It makes him smile, knowing that you do, in fact, want to see him. Or at least are acting like it. You’re a good friend to him, he’s lucky to have you.
“Rui!” You hug him as a greeting, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His heart soothes, eyes closing in relaxation. Problems feel obscure and distant when you two are like this, despite his reluctance last night. He can forget about corrupt feelings - or misguided love- and he can just be your best friend. Despite his apprehension to be cared for, he is flattered that you, at least, seem to like him.
“Hey.” He breaths you in, his voice soft. He hopes you don’t notice, it’s embarrassing.
“Hey!” You reply, pulling away. “Big things planned, Rui!”
“What big things?” He asks, amused. “Big things” for you were junk food and shopping.
“Big things! It’s a surprise!” You put your shoes on, and he can’t help but feel jealous as he watches your hands tie them dutifully. He sighs, stretching. He decides to make it a challenge to act normal the whole day. No weird thoughts are going to beguile his mind, he promises himself.
You lock your front door, twisting the knob to make sure that it did, in fact, lock. This fills him with a child-like sense of delight, maybe you two really were similar.
Nah, not possible. You’re too pure - too perfect. Ugh, Rui, no more stupid thoughts.
He watches you check the time, make a face at a nearby bird, and cover your cheeks with your hands. You suddenly perk up, wrapping your arms around him.
“Warm me up, will ya?” You scowl at the cool air, grip tightening. He gulps. It’s weird he reacts like this, considering you two have done things like this all the time. It’s normal, so why does he have to be such a creep? His arms wrap around yours, running his hands up and down to create heat.
“Should’ve worn a jacket,” he chides, “wouldn’t be cold, y’know?” His voice is so casual, like everything is totally fine. It is fine. Fine, fine, fine.
“Gotta look good. I’m on the hunt, obviously,” you joke. It isn’t funny to him, but he lets out a laugh.
“You’re hopeless.”
You two stop at a convenience store first, and you all but sprint to the drinks. He had this ritual down to a science. You grab two different color slushies, and he grabs whatever odd snack catches your collective stomachs eye today. Today the two of you decide to split a cookie, and walk to the counter. The cashier gives you a smirk, and he averts his eyes.
“This it?” The boy cocks his head, and you get the memo. You immediately jump on the opportunity.
“Mhm!” You wink, resting your chin in your hands while leaning against the counter. In all honestly, he wasn’t even that cute. At least, that’s what Rui kept telling himself.
“Don’t worry about it, than. I got you guys,” he waves you off. Score! You think, but he adds. “If I can get your number.” Rui feels like falling into the floor, how awkward! You just scribble it onto a stray receipt, winking.
“Thank you! You’re the sweetest!!” You singsong, skipping along with Rui following suite. You immediately burst into laughter, throwing a fake punch at Rui. “What a weirdo! Like I’d call him over what, 1000 yen?! I don’t even know him, yuck!”
So you did have some sense, he feels like letting out a sigh of relief. You hold your hands out.
“Which one do you want? I got your favorite!!” You look so proud, and he wants to laugh. His “favorite” isn’t actually his favorite, but he’d never tell you that.
The lie started one day in middle school, when the two of you suddenly had a weird craving for slushies. When you picked them out, you had gotten a red one and a blue one, and asked him what he wanted. While he really didn’t like red, he knew you liked blue, so he said red. Now for the past four years, you’ve always ended up getting him a red one, thinking it was his favorite. He’ll deal with it for you. Seeing your blue tongue stick out with brain freeze is better than any sugary drink anyway.
“Red, duh.” He scoffs playfully, taking a sip of it. The taste doesn’t really bother him all that much anymore. It reminds him of you.
You always let him divide the snacks, thinking he gives himself the bigger half. He never does, but he eats slower so you think he did. You skip along, enjoying it.
“Y’know, this isn’t bad. Wish they had the brownie, though. That never does us wrong.” God, don’t make him think of the ‘crack brownies’ - as you two call them. Those are great, and he likes them, so you never miss an opportunity to shove them down his throat.
“Don’t complain. Remember the egg roll incident?” He points, laughing at the memory. You two steer clear of that section now, having gotten sick.
“Ugh, I haven’t thought about that in a while! I’m never eating an egg roll again after that day! Ugh,” you gag.
Moments of silly memories like this make him feel like he’s known you forever. He can’t even remember a moment where he hasn’t loved you.
“Where’re we going now, commander?” He salutes, following the trail of sunshine you left behind.
“Where ever the wind blows us, kind sir!” You salute back, pushing him along. Your constant checks of your phone don’t go unnoticed by him, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.
“Who’re you texting? Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” He tries to sound casual, knocking his shoulder against yours playfully.
“‘M not a total idiot, I’ll have you know!” You huff, holding your phone to your chest. “It’s just somebody we went to school with a while back, ‘m seeing if I can pull the moves.”
“Do I know him?”
“Dunno, never saw you two talking, so maybe not. He was in my english class, remember, the only class we didn’t have together?”
“Ah.”
You two walk in silence, except for when he yanks you back from the collar so you don’t walk into oncoming traffic, which amuses you greatly. You two soon arrive at the small mall, and he tails you as you run with excitement. You two browse everything, constantly pointing out cute plushies, or interesting keychains.
“Rui, look! Look!” You shake him, pointing to the back of somebody’s head inconspicuously. “Wait don’t yet- Okay, now! He’s turning around! That’s the guy! What a coincidence we see him here, right? Do you recognize him?”
Ha. Yeah, he knows this guy. He definitely knows him. He’s the one who would trip him during passing periods, he’s the one who left flowers on his desk. They make eye contact, and it’s like all of his growth left his body. He’s just the same freak from middle school, he’s still thirteen.
He shudders at the guys smirk, sensing that he definitely knows that Rui knows him. He jogs over to the two of you, and Rui already knows what’s about to happen, due to the lopsided smile on your face.
Damnit, this is the first time he doesn’t think he can act like it’s okay.
“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Must be fate we run into each other like this, ehe…” You giggle awkwardly, a dumb expression gracing your face. It’s painful seeing you that way for anybody other than him, and he looks away awkwardly.
“Must be.” He answers, swaggering closer towards you. Rui thanks whatever God above because - despite his current situation - at least this asshole didn’t go to highschool with you guys.
He looks down at his shoes, and tries to shuffle away, knowing this jackass is about to say something. He’s quickly stopped.
“Who’s this, huh? Feel like a recognize him from somewhere…” He trails off, smirking through his nose as he turns his attention to him. “Have we met before?”
“This is Kamishiro Rui, he’s my friend! He went to middle school with us, remember?” You happily answer for him.
Ha, friend? What happened to back-up boyfriend? He’s a little hurt, to be honest.
He feels bitter, it’s unbecoming- God, he doesn’t care. He should feel bad for getting so angry over it, it’s not like you belong to him. He’s such a freak, getting attached to you like this.
He starts to pick at his fingers, then he plays with a loose string on his sweater. You two continue to chat like nothings wrong, and he keeps thinking. It’s something he’s gotten good at recently.
He stops feeling bad about himself for a second- a split second where he resents you, and wishes his pain upon you. Wants you to know what it’s like to be so disgustingly, guiltily, revoltingly obsessed with someone. In this split second, he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty about it, which is unlike him. He wishes you felt love like this, that you were as psychotic about it.
But this doesn’t last long, because he remembers that he loves you more than anything. He’s lucky to be your friend. You’re a great friend, you’re an amazing person, you’re the sun, the sun, the sun.
He’s the pavement, he has to remember.
“I’m- I’ll leave you to it, y’know? Fabric store.” He stutters, choking on his voice. You don’t even notice, waving him off.
You do, however, remember to press his shoulder, uttering an absentminded “Okay, Rui, bye,” and he remembers again how perfect you are for doing it subconsciously. He lets himself feel the touch, long after he’s walked away. He deserves it after the trouble he’s reliving.
When he makes it to the fabric store - which he really didn’t need anything from, Nene had gotten some the other day - he can’t help himself from wishing he could just go home. Malls were always overwhelming already, and now his saving grace has the attention of another man. He walks through aisles, but realizes that he now has to buy something.
‘Least he knows that social cue, he laughs bitterly, running his hands across his face in frustration. He’s so ridiculous.
Meanwhile, you were chatting up a storm. It was your first time talking in person since middle school, after all! You feel giddy for a while, but it cuts abruptly. You feel a strange sense of urgency, something’s missing.
Oh, your best friend.
But where had he gone? You’re sure he was just here. You smile apologetically at the cute boy, putting on your best performance.
“Oh, I better go get my friend now. I don’t like walking home when it’s late. Was nice seein’ you, let’s hang out soon, ‘kay?” You singsong, stepping closer. You want to give yourself a pat on the back, you’re so cute.
He rolls his eyes, and you’re hit with a wave of uneasiness. That noise he made sounds strangely dismissive, he’s not the kind of guy to be a jerk though, you must be hearing things-
“Leave ‘im. Between you and me, he was a total freak in middle school. Probably is now, too. Probably likes you or somethin’, total nutcase.” His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not the douchiest thing you’ve heard all day.
You let other men walk all over you, sure. You let them cheat on you, lie, whatever. But you’re not about to stand here and insult Rui. He’s the only untouched thing in your life - the only person who isn’t cruel. He’s so gangly and awkward, but in the best way. You could live a million times and not be able to deserve him, at least you think so. He’s so unusual, and that’s what you love most about him. Little things like not liking loud lights, or liking the red slushies the best, make your heart buzzy with familiarity. He’s the one constant in your life.
You’ve been awfully worried about him recently, though. His particularly (as you like to call it) has gone to the an extreme, and it’s been a battle getting him to eat real food. You’re not blind, you see the way he’s been spacing out, or tapping a little too much. You just thought he’d been overwhelmed. He worries you to death sometimes, but despite all of his own struggles, he always seems to not care about it, deciding to always be there for you instead. Ah, he’s just such an amazing guy - no, not guy, he’s not anything like those other boys you talk to. He’d never insult someone like that. He’s not just a guy, he’s like your person.
Yeah, he’s definitely your person.
Your heart sputters at the thought, and you feel something you’ve never really felt before - save for hugs between the two of you that lasted just a second too long, or words a little too romantic. The feeling makes your mind fuzzy, and your heart hurt terribly with something you could only place as homesickness.
Oh.
“I,” you begin, backing away. “Yeah, I’m sorry but I’ll really be going now-“
“What? C’mon I was just messing with you, even though having guy friend’s kinda weird.” He rolls his eyes.
“Yeah whatever, I’ll call you back,” you say dismissively.
You’re totally lying, you laugh, you’re not calling him back.
He didn’t seem to like that.
“Damn, can’t even joke around with you people. Whatever, weirdo, sorry I insulted your little boyfriend.” The change in tone amuses you.
Yeah, good riddance, pal.
You turn away, walking through the mall with pace. It takes a while, but you spot him watching a pet stores aquarium.
He’s a funny one.
You wave your hands, trying to get his attention. He swallows, knowing that it’s probably to ask him if it’s cool to walk home by himself. Emotions are stupid, and ironically, you both think that at the same time.
“Rui! Rui! Hey c’mon, let’s go home, yeah?” You smile, face feeling warm. It’s a different feeling from when you usually talk to him. He looks at you, a little shocked. He had assumed you were smiling wide because you set up a date, so he turns his head.
“Where is he, huh?” He looks away, back to the fish tank. You shift in place, was he mad at you? You’re a little irritated at the mention of the guy, though, and huff.
“Don’t worry about that. Seems like I only attract douchebags, so I decided to go.” You explain, poking his shoulder. “Hey,” you start, “let’s just walk home, I wanna talk to you about something.” The idea makes you feel dizzy, but you’ll have to illustrate your feelings one day.
You can leave out the “I think I’m in love with you” part, you think.
The two of you walk in an excruciating silence, staring down at the reflection of the setting sun in the puddles. His heart tightens, remembering his earlier comparison. Even now, you’re so perfect. Even if he’s frustrated with you - despite you turning down the guy in the end (he doesn’t know why, he wanted to ask) - even if he’s ready to scream, and cry, and ask you what it is he did for you to be so turned off by him, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly, divine person to ever grace his view. He wants to be where you see him, he wants to be in your orbit.
“You’re like the sun-“ He blurts out, immediately regretting it. He didn’t mean to say that, God, he’s so fucking stupid. He sees you stop walking, smiling that same stupid, dopey, lopsided smile that he’s always so jealous of-
Oh. It’s for him.
He chokes, stopping to meet you eye-to-eye. You look up at him too, laughing giddily.
“What does that mean?”
He sputters, stepping away. “N-no it’s nothing- It was stupid anyway so-“
“No, tell me!” You urge, laughing a little harder. “What if it was something bad, ‘nd you were making fun of me? That’s not nice, Rui!”
“I- Hey-“ His voice goes a touch higher, a defensive tone rising. “That’s not-“
“Then tell me.”
“It’s just,” he breaths, trying to word it in the least creepy way possible. How does convey the fact that he sees you as a divine presence, that he sees himself as a worthless creature compared to you, without sounding like he’s hopelessly possessed by love for you? “I just- you’re so amazing,” he starts, “I thought of this stupid thing the other day when I was walking home - you know how I am - and well, I just thought of you when the sun reflected off the pavement - since it rained, y’know? - and well, it just- Sorry, it was dumb-“ He rambles, covering his face in anguish.
Nobody’s ever put that much thought into you. Sure, you’ve received a few ‘You’re so gorgeous’’s, where you’ve had to wonder where they learnt such a “big word”, but never something as poetic as that. The usual Rui-ratic explanation endeared you to him even more. You look at him, the smile never leaving. He’s just… so Rui. His stupid striped sweater, his half up hair - that you’d begged him to grow out - his eyes, whatever. Everything about him you treasure, and little do you know he cherished you even that more intensely.
“I think you’re the moon, Rui. Or maybe the earth, since I take care of you, hah!” You snicker, stepping closer to him. He takes a step back in return, and you grab his hands to make him stay put. His heart throbs, and he almost goes crashing down.
“I.. I don’t-“
You yank his hands, making him look back up at you. “Hey, Rui, I,” you look at him assuringly, “I wanna say something, and you can’t laugh okay?”
He holds his breath, so do you.
Fuck it, just tell him.
“I think I’m in love with you, Rui.” You gaze at him, the words shooting out faster than you can second guess them.
“I don’t-“ He breaks away, his fists balling up. You messed up, you think, you really, really messed up. “I’m not- I’m not going to- You can’t just say that because you got rejected. I- It wouldn’t be nice to- You don’t love me-“
“Rui,” you beg, grabbing his arm again, “holding hands on the way to school, cuddling while doing homework, knowing everything about eachother, these aren’t-“ You breath, “I’ve wanted somebody to love me for so long, Rui, and I was so blind to the fact that I was loved. But the love that I felt for you, - that I feel for you - Rui, isn’t the kind where I can be- where I can just be so- so normal about those things!” You monologue, saying whatever’s on your mind. You’re the rambling one now.
“I found myself comparing you to these piece-of-garbage dude’s I’m always with, wishing I could just date somebody like you instead! But now I realize that it is you-“
His heart falls into his gut, and he breaks free from you again. His hands move to his face, covering his eyes. His voice is broken and cracky as he begins to cry. “That was- you-“ He pulls you into a desperate embrace, arms holding you like you’ll disappear. “You shouldn’t, you’re wrong.” He sobs, “I’m- the way I love you is- You don’t understand, the way I feel isn’t normal I- My love is disgusting, and horrible, and depraved-“ He shakes, you rub his back. “You are so perfect compared to me, I’d never be able to- I love you so much, more than friends are supposed to, more than anyone’s supposed to at our age-“
“Rui, hey Rui please don’t cry.” You beg, smoothing out the ridges in his sweater. “I don’t- I don’t agree with that, and I can scream that at you, but I’m sure you won’t believe me. You’re not disgusting for feeling emotions different, Rui that’s what I love about you.”
“Stop- stop saying my name like that. It’s too hard to-“
“Rui, I love you. You don’t need to accept it, but I love you. More than being in love, more than being loved-“
“I love you, too,” his voice cracks, “that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to ruin a friendship that’s all I have, if this is just- I’m scared I’d lose you in any way, and I can’t live in a world where you don’t see me. I won’t. It’s sounds horrible but-“ He stops as you pull away from the hug, and wipes his face hastily. You put your pinky out, and his stomach drops again.
“C’mon, just like when we were kids. Pinky promise that no matter what, we’ll always see each other. That way you don’t need to worry anymore, y’know? I never break my kissy pinky promises, ever.”
Just like when you two were little.
He locks his with yours, just like you taught him all those years ago. He remembers your shared handshake for theater, he remembers your shared handshake for testing, and he remembers the song you two had to duet for choir - when you have forced him into it for a year. He holds everything of you so dear to his heart, you endear everything about him to you as well.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I see you.”
“I see you, too.”
You two kiss your hands, then bring them down, still interlinked. You stare at him, and he stares back at you. In a moment of profound sincerity, you lean forward, and kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, and you unlock your hands half way through to hold his face, which he mirrors. His heart settles for the first time. You see him. He’s your moon, your earth, you’re his sun, his stars.
He’s suddenly alarmed by a quick pushing off of him, gasping out a “Rui!”
“I-“ he pants, wiping his mouth. “Hm?”
“we’re in the middle of a park!”
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sarahreesbrennan · 3 months ago
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Thank you for writing Long Live Evil.
I'm no cancer survivor, so I haven't been through the horror that that must've been, congratulations to enduring and surviving, and my sincere condolences that you had to go through it.
But I am chronically ill (cystic fibrosis, genetic defect) and have so far lived for 5 years longer than my prognosis allowed. My health's been good and stabile for a long time now, but I remember times where I couldn't walk alone, had a 18/6 nasal cannula and a 24-hour IV drip instead of school or a future.
Now I'm working at university, an archaeologist, chipping away at writing stories for years and years, and incredibly glad and privileged to see the world. All this to say that seeing how hurt Rae was in the beginning (and again throughout the story, while also never truly forgetting her true roots and motives) and how she grew around it like a gnarled tree, was like catharsis for me. Having miraculously given a second chance, no matter how hard the fight to keep it will be; I haven't ever read any story talking about this in a way that made me feel seen and understood like this. Thank you also lots and lots for taking the time to mention Rae's appreciation for Rahela's curves — it's been the same for me, since I've managed to get out of the underweight-trap. It means a lot to me, and I guess to many others in similar situations, including you of course. Thank you for sharing this with us, it must've been hard to touch on a deeply personal experience like this in writing that's simultaneously removed from oneself through fiction (at least that's what I'm imagining).
Thank you, and I wish you nothing but the best, health, and lots of good days to come. Deeply curious to see how Rae's story will continue!
Thank you so much for this.
I am so glad you are alive. Thank you for that, too - for living on even when you couldn’t see a way forward and everything was helpless despair.
I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, either, but it’s a privilege to have shared adjoining experiences trapped in darkness, and to share gladness and the wide world with you now. I’m so sorry it happened, and so happy you have archaeology and stories, and the world has you.
I will be totally honest and say it has been hard sharing Long Live Evil with the world, and I’m so grateful to you for knowing that, and for sending this message because you knew. This book is highly personal to me, but it’s also meant to be a wild celebration of messiness, escapism, and finding humour in art and darkness. And that means to some it’s just a joke, and in the words of Joanna Russ, ‘she’s not really an artist and it’s not really art.’ And so it gets dismissed, and it does hurt to see my most important story dismissed sometimes.
I was with other writers in a public space at one point and they were talking about how their books were about serious issues while ‘Sarah’s book is just for fun, and that’s fine too!’ (I had to take a minute before I could lean into my microphone and say ‘My book is about cancer’ in a cheery tone.) I’ve seen readers saying ‘this book’s just fluff, just silly, I’m ashamed of myself for reading it, there’s nothing to it’ about the book I wrote about almost dying.
My Rae, while of course she has bits of me in her (every character I’ve ever written does), and evil queens I’ve loved, and characters with wild hubris going on in the Greek plays I mention often in the book, and readers I’ve seen and I’ve been who are blithely confident they know what’s going on without doing more than surface reading and while forgetting key details… she’s also bits of women and girls I’ve mentored, been mentored by, befriended. And some of them are dead. So seeing the bits that were them particularly scorned or judged, seeing her pain dismissed or the discussion of her body sneered at…
That has been hard.
But.
In the end I believe I am really an artist and this book is really art, and art is there for the wide world to judge - to be mocked and dismissed, yes, as a price that comes with the opportunity to also be truly seen and appreciated, to get to influence real people’s real lives. Art is the gold that comes from the crucible in which we put all our pain and all our love and all our joys. I believe it deepens and transforms.
I wrote this book about how deeply unsympathetic people actually are to sufferers of illness, chronic or otherwise, and especially to women expressing pain. How the world villainises imperfect victims—which means all victims. How the world villainises bodies, and robs us of our joy in them—even when there’s horror in a body, too. I did know that by putting this book out into this world, that attitude would be reflected back by the world onto the book. And that attitude has hurt me in the past, and hurts me when I see it now.
I still think it’s worth calling out that attitude, even if it means getting more of that attitude reflected back onto me - because it means readers like you see it, and know others have been through this, and it was never okay, and you were never alone. While I know there will also be readers with chronic illnesses and/or cancer whose experience doesn’t overlap with mine at all, that only means there need to be more stories. So everyone who needs it gets the map into fantasy lands.
And I do hope some able-bodied readers read it, and think twice about adopting the world’s attitude to the people in their lives who are already going through enough. Some readers have told me the book helped them sympathise with and understand the cancer sufferers in their family and friend circles, and that’s meant a great deal. What do we write for, if not to learn to love each other better?
Long Live Evil has also given me my life back, as truly as chemo did, in a way that makes the pain worthwhile - I think I would have kept telling stories in some form, but Long Live Evil was my last throw, for as far ahead as I could see. Now since the book’s done well so far I’m hoping I can write more books, and my life can be the storytelling shape I always wanted it to be.
I read your message and I regretted nothing. I remember the pain and the way so many of us laughed or tried to laugh our way through it, and I know this was my way. Jokes, like stories, are the golden thread we follow through the dark labyrinth of our own agony and incomprehension.
It really has been hard, and it’ll stay hard. But like living, it’s worth it.
Please know two things.
I am so happy I wrote this book. Ultimately more than any other feeling I had so, so much fun writing it, and I’m having even more fun seeing the book be read by the people it was meant for.
2. This book was written for you.
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madelynraemunson · 10 months ago
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— along for the ride ☆
🐃 the tag team (co-writers): @joshlmbrt @swiss-mrs @mediocredreams 🩶
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eddie x fem!reader
a/n: reading flight of icarus and finding out eddie is from tennessee REALLY husked my corn 🤠 also, this may or may not have been inspired by the bull fight scene in hoard
cw: daydream p in v sex, riding, eddie gets a hard on watching reader ride, innuendos, play on words
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Stamina. Strength. Strategy. Safety. The Four Important S’s when it comes to bull-riding. 
‘Support’ is your unofficial fifth. You’ve generated quite the following after showcasing your riding skills at Whisky Jim’s every Saturday night, the ooohs and aaahs of your spectators filling the air as the spotlight drenches your cute… calculated… perspiring body. 
Bull-riding at the dive bar every weekend has become a favorite hobby of yours. It’s a perfect outlet for all the stress, the rough-and-tough of it all perfectly counterbalancing your slow-as-snails, but somehow busy and draining 9 to 5. Riding gave you something to look forward to.
“Look at her go,” an onlooker coos in admiration. “She’s got life by the goddamn horns.”
You toss your head back, glossy lips parted in excitement as the crowd’s appreciative hoots and whistles filled the air.  You could get used to this. You have gotten used to this.
Even with the world at your feet, things were starting to get boring again. And you are constantly craving something wild, something new. Something or someone that will make like the bull by sweeping you off your feet and taking you out for a spin.
Someone like Eddie Munson, perhaps.
Eddie isn’t sure what drew him… here out of all places. But something about the rowdiness compels him as he climbs out of his van, Halen and into the bar, boots scuffing the hard wooden floor. But the flight-risk metalhead is determined to find out, itching for adventure as he saunters with feigned confidence into the southern saloon. 
He flags down the closest bartender, a country heartthrob of a man with black hair and blue eyes. The Casanaova places a coaster down in front of him as Eddie steps up to the plate. “What’ll ya be havin’?”
“Anything local,” Eddie replies, more of a question, unsure of what exactly is available. “Anything hoppy.”
“Bottle or Tap?” the man follows up after a curt nod, mindlessly running a hand over his thick mustache.
“Tap. Pint, please.”  
The bartender gives another nod before disappearing to fulfill Eddie’s request. Meanwhile, the outcast takes this short window of time to look up and down the bar at the different patrons. 
All from different walks of life. But all here for presumably the same reason.Whisky Jim’s is decently packed, but for the most part, the crowd is congregated either in booths, at tables, or in the middle of the floor.
A glass is placed onto the coaster. The same deep country twang effectively regains Eddie’s attention.
“Wanna start a tab, brother?” The older man asks with a polite grin, eyes crinkling up at the sides as he does. 
Eddie offers a polite smile in return.
“Uh, sure. Thanks.” 
The bartender studies him intently this time, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“First timer?”
 Eddie clears his throat uneasily, kicking at the peanut casings at his feet to avoid contact with the John Wayne of a man that was in front of him.
“Obvious?” 
The man cackles at Eddie, the slight patronization of the old-timer’s demeanor making him want to evaporate. But the amused blue eyes and downturned smile indicates it’s all in good fun, much like his uncle Wayne who always liked giving him a hard time whenever he made himself too small. 
“Son, you couldn’t stick out further if you were a dog’s balls.” 
A fellow bartender laughs at the man’s remark. Then Eddie joins in. It was pretty funny. 
“You just don’t really look like the kind to be into square dancin’, is all,” the bartender remarks as he narrows his eyes at Eddie. Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, slightly wincing as the first sip hits him.
“Well, you’re not wrong. Just thought I’d explore a bit outside of my usual.” 
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Eddie.”
“Greg.” The bartender gives him his hand to shake. “You from around here or you comin’ from outta town?” 
“Hawkins.” 
“Not too far from home then. And it seems you came on a good night.” 
And as if on cue, the crowd towards the middle of the building erupts in cheers. Eddie briefly glances over his shoulder in the general direction before turning back to Greg with a curious head tilt.
“What’s happening?” 
Greg nods his head over in the direction of the crowd.
“Bull Ridin’ Night.”
Your thighs are wrapped around the firm leather seat as you’re whisked around in one fluid motion. You turn to give your rapt audience a wink. The crowd eats up your presence, evident by the adorn kisses they blow your way. You buy into the theatrics, pretending to catch them before putting them in your back pocket for later. It only riles the audience up more.
“They bring that thing out on Saturdays,” Greg explains. “Between the Karaoke Nights and the Hoedowns, Bull Ridin’ is one of the most popular.”
 Eddie tries another glance in that direction, but due to the crowd, he doesn’t have the best view of who is actually riding.
 “You gon’ give it a try?”
 Eddie’s head whips back around to the older man to find a teasing smirk on his face. Eddie shakes his head.
“I… don’t think so.” He chuckles. “I’m not the most balanced or coordinated person.” He admits that with a grimace and another sip of his Hawkins Pale Ale. 
“I’m just teasin’ ya, boy. HEY!” Greg whistles at the bartender next to him. “Who’s up there now?” 
 The coworker throws a quick glance over their shoulder before replying. There’s a bashful smirk when they reply, 
“Who do you think?” 
The crowd erupts again, cheers and whistles alike. Who else gets this kind of crowd engagement? No one else other than you, of course. 
“Looks like my girl is up there breakin’ hearts again.” Greg lets out a soft laugh. 
Eddie gulps as his breathing shallows. A girl? Up there? On that thing?
Eddie, once again, nearly strains his neck trying to get a glimpse of the rider. When he fails, Eddie turns back to the bar, downing the final quarter of his pint, before looking back at Greg.
“Fetch me a bottle for the road, yeah?”
 Greg issues him a chuckle, grabbing the empty glass and handing him a bottle version of that very ale, while Eddie sets off on his curiosity journey to the middle of the floor.
“Boys will be boys.” Greg’s female coworker remarks with sassy pursed lips.
Eddie closes in on the crowd,  slipping through the few empty spaces between the onlookers with half-assed ‘Excuse me’s. Though no one was paying him any mind. And when he settles by the barrier, just a mere two rows behind, he finally gets the perfect view of you.
Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face at the sight of you working the crowd. He watches as you give a practiced flick of your hips to get the crowd going and the enticing jiggle of your breasts under your tight shirt. Drew in Eddie’s eyes like a laser beam. The thin material was stretched taut, giving a hint of the perfect tits underneath as you arched your lower back and thrust your chest forward to keep your balance. 
“Christ,” he exhales sharply, in awe of your natural performance, the boisterous, unpredictable gravity of the machine whirling you around as you wrestle to hold on. 
His eyes drink in the sight of the soft, rounded curve of your ass that peeked out of the bottom of your faded Daisy Duke’s as you lean forward to steady yourself in the saddle.
WHOOSH!
The bull jerks sideways and you flex your thighs and circle your hips in the saddle to keep yourself astride. The plush skin of your upper thighs press tightly against the seat and your upper body sways in rhythm with the bull’s movement. 
You were born to ride.
“That’s how you do it, Indiana!” a spectator hoots in adoration as you cling on for dear life. “That’s how you do it!”
You give a deep roll of your hips to meet the thrust of the machine, causing Eddie to run the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before sucking in a shaky breath. Your hips… the way they roll… is almost hypnotic, and Eddie’s brown doe eyes can’t help but linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out, black, intricate swirls of cyber-sigilism that tease him slightly. 
Fuck.
“God, she’s so pretty…” he thinks to himself. “And she knows how to ride.”
Eddie’s eyes trail to the white of your knuckles, his own fingers gripping the bottle of his beer when his eyes slide up your arm and land on your face.
The front of his pants start to feel uncomfortably tight. Eddie adjusts himself as discreetly as he could, but even the soft brush of his fingers against the strained denim causes  him to hiss under his breath.
“Ride it, cowgirl!” an audience’s comment centers Eddie once again. “LET ‘EM KNOW!”
The way you matched the bull’s gyrations and anticipated its every move made him weak in the knees, and as he watched you swirl your hips in the saddle like a modern day Annie Oakley he couldn’t help but wish it was him straddled between your shapely thighs instead. 
As Eddie stood there watching, the dull roar of the crowd faded into the background. At that moment it was just you and him. 
In his mind he’s already lassoed you to his bed; and you’re sat astride him like a cowgirl in your saddle, hands splayed on his chest for balance as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. And you’d bite down on your plush lower lip and let out a soft moan as you sank down onto him slowly, taking your time and adjusting to his size. 
“Oh, Eddie,” he could almost hear you purring. “It’s so big.”
And he’d chuckle with false modesty and rub a hand tenderly along your thigh as if to soothe the delicious stretch of his thick girth.Then once you adjusted, you’d move, meeting each unpredictable roll of his hips with your own as you mastered the rhythm of your very own long-haired bucking bronco.
And he’d be gripping you tight with each deep thrust, pistoning, plowing himself into you while watching his cock disappear into your slick pussy over and over with each forceful snap of his hips. And with every strained mewl he milks out of you he’d press you down by the hips and drill into you further, your weak cunt just about ready to tap out on top of him. This handsome bull’s sure a challenge, you’d be thinking to yourself. Eddie is a ride you wouldn’t be able to survive.
———
The crowd disperses when the show is over. Eddie stands a bit straighter when you finally leave the middle of the floor, eyes darting towards the plush smirk that your soft lips create. If it’s even possible, he thinks you look even more heavenly. He’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him. 
Little does he know that for you, he’s taken that same effect. You’ve grown so accustomed to everyone here that a new face has captured your attention. And you felt him staring at you, with a gaze so impassioned that you just about almost lost your footing up there. But you pulled it off real well, attempting to shake off the redirection in the form of a dramatic bounce of your tits.
It perplexes you. A man making you that nervous? Up until late, it’s become rather unheard of. You want to know this man and see for yourself what his energy is all about.
Eddie finds himself fixing his appearance when he notices your legs striding over, clearing his throat as his palm slides over the stubble that he had been trying to grow. 
“You know it’s kinda rude to stare the way that you do,” you remark.
“How so?” Eddie challenges. “Everyone else is doing it. What makes me different from everybody?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” you smile at him.
Eddie shifts his weight onto the counter, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking another gulp. His eyes dart everywhere -- the metal buckle of your belt, the skin that was shiny with dried sweat, your hands that tap at the sticky countertop of the bar, the way your lips wrap around the tip of your bottle and the liquid that slips out and down your chin that he greedily wanted to tongue away. 
“Funny,” you observe. “I’m here every Saturday and I’ve never once seen your face.”
He thinks he’s looking over at an angel, really, heart beating faster when he realizes it’s him that you’d made an effort to come up to. Made an effort to get to know.
“Interesting that you saw me.”
“I see everything from up there. And you’re a newcomer, I can tell. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the best way.”
You invite him into your energy, closing up the distance between the two of you with a graceful stride in his direction.
“You were amazing,” Eddie says to you. “Really know how to put on a show, cowgirl.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie insists. “Spotlight loves you. Killer crowd engagement as well.”
“You a performer too?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
“Mmm, I don’t know…” you sigh dreamily. “Just a fellow performer lookin’ for some tips and pointers.”
Not much needs to be said to know that you two ache for each other, judging by how the intimate dive bar grows non-existent for as long as you two are captured in the forcefield of each other. Eddie thinks that there would be absolutely nothing better than giving you some pointers, his hand leaving the bottle, some of the liquid sloshing around the precipitating glass, heart pounding in his ears as he nods quickly. One rowdy night wouldn’t hurt anybody, he thinks to himself. And it’s very apparent that, the stunner that is you, wants take him for a spin.
“So what do you say, cowboy?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t we ride off into the sunset, just you and me?”
dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @saradika @mikeykuns
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weakformingyu · 10 months ago
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Another Love | Part 6
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Genre: angst, smut, fluff
Words count: 8,416
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Warnings: angst, hickeys, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), dirty talk(I think that's it)
A/N: I'm finally here with the last part of Another Love. This fic means the whole world to me, it's the story that made me grow a lot as a writer and was the first story that I thought "woah this is really good" when I finished the first part. I hope you all like this last part, I poured my whole heart in this and I really want you all to feel what I tried to convey with my words. Thank you for all the comments, reblogs and feedback, that's what made me motivated to finish this fic.
Also, I wanna thank my best friend @baby-yongbok for bearing my whines and rumbles about this story. Thank you baby for helping me through the difficult times 🫶🏻
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You may have regretted telling Han that you would give him a chance. How soon? As soon as the sentence left your mouth. Why? Because now, you are going to have to face all the demons you kept inside of you for all these years.
While having an unrequited love, you had a motto: if you don’t get too delusional, it's going to hurt less. So every single time, when your mind started wandering through those dirty thoughts, you made sure to stop yourself. However, now it’s not a one sided love anymore and you’re honestly afraid of what that means. The furthest thing you thought about doing with Jisung, was a kiss and even that left you hot and bothered. Now, you are thinking about other things, like having sex and that’s something you never did before for the sake of your sanity.
It doesn’t help that Jisung is a menace and surprisingly you didn't know about it. 15 years of friendship and just about now did you find out that this man has no shame.
Things were going pretty normal, he had been treating you like always so things didn't seem to have changed much and that gave you some peace of mind, afterall, he was always affectionate to you.
However, little by little, you started noticing some things. Like, walking around the house shirtless like he wants you to look and unsurprisingly that’s exactly what you do. Every fucking time, you feel like you'll explode and in your defense, it's really, really hard not to look. He shows up wearing nothing but sweatpants and you try with all your willpower to look anywhere but him but in the end you can't help but look. Honestly, it's impossible and you know he's doing it on purpose because you get glimpses of his condescending smile whenever he catches you watching. You wish you could punch him in the face but then he’ll know he has won and you can’t let that happen.
Jisung is trying to prove a point, is it risky? Yes, but he's not entirely confident about winning you over. Even though you said you would give him a chance, every time he tries to get close to you it seems like you push him away and that scares him, he’s afraid you will change your mind and he can’t have that. So he’s trying to show you that he’s the full package.
He's good to you and funny but that you already knew, you have been friends for a long time. So he wants to show you a new side of him, something you only get to see from a boyfriend.
After days of hesitation, one night he finally makes his move. You’re in the kitchen, trying to get something on the top shelf but you can't seem to reach it. Jisung sees that and a brilliant idea pops on his head, you can only hear his footsteps coming behind you and in the split of a second, you feel the warmth of his body almost touching yours when he leans over you to get the bowls you wanted.
That’s the moment you lose your mind, years of restraint ending in a simple touch of his. Actually, the fact that he’s not even touching you makes everything worse.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, not turning around to look at him.
“Helping you, what else?” He answers, voice shaking a bit with the proximity. You can feel his breathing on the top of your head.
“I didn’t ask for help”, you clarify, not to sound rude but just trying to control yourself.
Unexpectedly, you feel his hands lightly holding your hips and in a quick move he turns you around, caging you against the kitchen cabinet and you release a shaky breath, heart beating like a hammer on your chest.
“You’re pushing me away”, he points out, “I won’t be able to win you over if you don’t let me”
You stare at him for a minute, he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, making you sigh.
“I’m sorry, I just have to get used to it”, you say, “I thought you would never like me so this change is kinda overwhelming”, you clarify.
“Shall we go on a date, then?” He proposes, taking a step back, looking at you hopefully. You nod, earning a big smile from him. “Okay, be ready tomorrow at 8 am”, he tells you, making you frown.
“What are we gonna do so early in the morning?” You ask, confused, making him shrug.
“It's a surprise”, he says, “but I can tell you that you should dress comfortably”
That's all he says, turning around and leaving you alone in the kitchen. Why does it seem like you just fell right into his trap? Like he already had everything planned and you acted exactly how he wanted you to?
There's nothing much you can do now since you already accepted the date, so you forget about what you wanted to do in the kitchen and go to your room, preparing a handbag with anything you'll possibly need.
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He's up before you, waiting with breakfast and a warm cup of coffee. While you two eat you just know he's dying to tell you where you're going but he also doesn't want to ruin the surprise.
You realize it's going to be a trip when he drives out of the city, giving you the task of taking care of the playlist. You scroll through his songs, some from the boys, some from the artists he likes, you add some that you like, until you see the seaside.
“Are we going to the beach?” You ask, eyes sparkling. You missed this place so much.
“We are”, he smiles, stretching his hand to grab yours, interlacing your fingers. You feel your face hot, sure that you're blushing but you glance at him, seeing Jisung stare at the road with that shit eating grin on his lips.
“Don’t you think you're being too much?” You ask, trying to hide the smile that's trying to escape your lips.
“Not really”, he shrugs.
You and Jisung would always come to the beach when you were younger, it would be usually on your vacation but when you two were feeling down or something upsetting happened, you'd catch a bus and come here. You'd just sit in the sand, watching as the waves came and went, as the ocean reflected the color of the sky. It didn’t matter if it was winter or summer, that was always the place to make you feel better.
Jisung parks in front of a restaurant, inviting you to come out to eat and you look around, seeing how much it has changed since the last time you went there. When you moved to Seoul for school, you stopped traveling farther than your parents house. Even though you didn’t really need to save money because your family always supported you, you like to have savings for an emergency, so you had to give up on luxuries like traveling too far. Also, as you got older it became more difficult to stay close to your best friend in a place that was meant for just the two of you, every time you would go to the beach with him, you’d feel the urge to confess and that couldn’t happen, you were not ready yet. So you spent the last few years avoiding coming to your favorite place.
You were planning to come alone one day, when you had gotten over Jisung but life seems to be playing with you and now you’re there with the man you love and he’s the one holding himself not to confess to you right then and there. Not because it’s a secret, but because he doesn’t want to pressure you more than he already feels like he’s doing.
“I can’t believe we came all this way to eat spicy fried chicken”, he tells you as soon as you order your favorite.
“Stop”, you pout, “you know this place has the best chicken wings in the entire planet”
“Have you ever tried all the chicken wings on the planet?” He teases, making you roll your eyes.
“I don’t need to, I just know this one is the best”, you argue back, crossing your arms.
He stares at you with an idiotic smile, biting on his bottom lip trying not to laugh at you.
“Maybe on our next tour you can come with us?” he says, feeling his face warming up, “I’ll accept your opinion only after you try the fried chicken from two other countries”
Jisung looks around, trying to hide his blushing or his pout, anxiously waiting for your answer but you can see his ears as red as tomatoes.
“Maybe”, that’s the only thing you say, holding yourself from giggling.
You and Jisung take a walk when you finish your food, needing some exercise after eating too much. You take your sneakers off, feeling the sand hugging your feet and the cold water making you shiver when the waves finally get to you.
“Remember when I had to go on tour for the first time?” Jisung asks, glancing at you and you nod. “You got so upset that I would go away for an entire month, that you disappeared, your mom wanted to kill you”, he chuckles and you sigh, remembering that time.
You were 20 and had barely settled down in Seoul when he had to go away. You were upset that you would have to stay all by yourself since classes had already started but you pretended like everything was alright.
“I didn’t really disappear, that’s an exaggeration”, you scoff, “I just forgot to mention that I wouldn’t come home that night”
“Well, that sounds like disappearing to me”, he argues back, “and it did to our parents too”
“The point?” You try changing the subject, not really wanting to admit that you were in the wrong.
“The point is, that I found you seated on that rock right there”, he points to the place you were walking to. “You were a mess, you cried and were already sick because you didn’t bring a coat and it was already night”, he scolds you, making you roll your eyes.
“And?” You push again, starting to feel guilty again about that day.
“I should have realized your feelings for me sooner”, Jisung bites on his bottom lip, fidgeting with his hands. “Everyone but me knew and you had to struggle on your own. I’m sorry”
You feel tears brimming on your eyes, you don’t want him to pity you.
“I never wanted an apology from you”, you explain, “I was always aware that you didn’t have to like me back. It was not fair of me to expect you to feel something you didn’t. That’s why I never told you… I mean, until I couldn’t hold it back anymore”, you chuckle awkwardly. “Even if you had never liked me back, I wouldn’t want you to apologize to me”
Jisung pouts, nodding in agreement.
“But I’m not apologizing for not liking you back”, he say, “I’m apologizing because you struggled because of me and if I had realized it sooner maybe you wouldn’t have had to-”
“And maybe you wouldn’t have fallen in love with me too”, you blurt out, hand flying to your mouth as soon as the sentence left your mouth, making a big smile show up in his lips.
“Am I hearing this correctly?” He teases, seeing you blush. “Did you just admit that you are satisfied that I’m the one in love now?”
“Why, of course”, you bite back a smile. “You deserve a bit of a punishment for dating so much in your life”, you shake your head in disapproval.
“There’s nothing wrong with falling in love”, he teases, laughing when you roll your eyes.
He’s right, you were in love with him for a long time and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, for some reason, that makes your heart ache and an awful thought appears in your mind, making you stop on your tracks, glancing at him and staring for a whole minute before speaking up again.
“For how long are you going to be in love with me though?” You ask, letting your insecurities speak but you can’t help but think about that. “Your relationships didn’t last that long, are you sure you won’t just fall out of love with me in a bit?”
That makes his smile disappear, his brows knit together in a frown, pure confusion on his complexion.
“I- you’re different”, he says like it is the simplest thing in the world.
“What’s so different about me?” You push, trying to understand him, trying to look for some reassurance.
“I don’t think I ever felt like this for anyone before”, he explains. “I was never the jealous type, but when I saw you with Jeongho I wanted to explode and my chest hurt so much. I think of you every minute of the day, I was never like this before. I want to show you places, I want to take you to eat different foods and see your reaction when you taste them. You know you’re just like Hyunjin right? You do that face when you eat something delicious”, he smiles, “I want to be the one to make you smile and I want to be the one who’s there when you need to cry. I want to be your best friend, but I don’t want to be just your best friend, I want to have it all. All of you”
You feel like all the air from your body just decided to come out, you can’t breathe and at the same time you feel like you’re breathing too much — too fast, but when you see his dark eyes watching you, waiting for you to say something — anything, its like your body move on its on and in the split of a second your lips are on his.
You always dreamed about kissing Jisung. You always imagined how it would be to kiss him. But not even your greatest dreams came close to reality. His lips are soft just like cotton and warm like the hot chocolate you drink on a cold day. His body pressed against yours is something you never thought you needed but now that you have it it's something you don’t think you can let go.
His hands cup your face, fingers digging on your skin like you’re going to run away if he holds you with less strength. He’s shy, just pressing his lips against yours, until it's too much for him to handle and his tongue comes into your mouth, making you sigh. Jisung's hands trail gentle caresses down your arms, leaving a trail of warmth behind and sliding around your waist and pressing himself more against you.
You are completely lost in his lips, not sure what to do next, it's like it's your first time kissing someone. You grab his shirt, trying to get a hold on something, trying not to fall because your legs are almost giving out and your chest feels like exploding. When you two need to breathe, he pulls away from you, looking at you breathlessly, waiting for you to explain yourself or at least give him another kiss. But when he sees doubt in your eyes, he hugs you, squeezing you against him again.
“Please, don’t run away now”, he pleads. “I don’t think I can handle it, not after this”
“Jisung, I-”, you hesitate, trying to say the right thing.
“You don’t have to give me an answer right now”, he assures you. “I won’t expect anything from you until you are sure about your decision, so don’t worry about it”, he says.
“Okay”, you nod.
The fact that it seems like your feelings didn’t change at all, scares you. How could you try so hard to get over him but still feel the same? If he hadn’t come around to like you, would you have struggled your whole life with your unrequited love? It didn’t happen but the ‘what if’ is haunting you and you can’t give him an answer until this feeling goes away.
The trip back home is quiet, not as awkward as you thought it would be but Jisung seems lost in thoughts and you are not very different. You don’t know why you keep letting all these intrusive thoughts win over your mind, if it was before your confession, you’d jump in his arms at the mere mention of him liking you back, so why is it so different now? Why are you so hesitant?
“Do you want pizza?” He asks, as soon as you enter Seoul again.
“Yeah”, you nod, looking at him.
Jisung changed too, he’s treating you the same as he always did but it seems different somehow, you just can’t quite grasp what changed. He looks more mature, like something switched inside of him and that makes you a bit nervous. You’re not so familiar with this Jisung, you can’t predict what he’s gonna do next or what he’s thinking. Your best friend doesn’t look just like your best friend anymore and maybe that’s the whole point. If things stayed the same would it feel like you were dating? Would you understand that you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore? That you can kiss him and be jealous of him? If things stayed the same, would you let yourself love him freely?
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“So she kissed you”, Chan points out, eyes squeezed, trying to make sense of the situation, “and she hasn’t talked about it since?”
“Yeah”, Jisung pouts, “but in her defense, I told her I didn’t need an answer immediately”
“And that was your mistake”, Hyunjin says, “you have anxiety, you always need answers immediately”
“Well, you’re not wrong”, Jisung sighs, “but I didn’t want her to feel pressured. Especially since it looked like she was about to run away if I said anything abrupt”.
“I guess she’s just confused”, Chan tries to help, “but the fact that she kissed you is a good sign”
“You think so?” Jisung looks at his older friend with puppy eyes, hopeful.
“Yeah, of course”, Chan chuckles.
“You know what?” Changbin comes in from the kitchen, he’s been listening to the whole story but didn’t say a thing until now. “You should do something romantic for her”
“Like what?” Jisung asks.
“Think about something that would be touching, something that has to do with your story together”, Chan advises, making the youngest think.
Jisung frowns, there's something that comes to mind but would you like that? Until now, he has tried to be subtle in his ways of approaching you. He wakes up earlier than you everyday and makes you eat before you go to class. He's always home when you come back at night, waiting with snacks and a movie for you two to watch together. You have been discovering a new side of him, even though you thought you knew everything about your best friend, but now Jisung watches you with heart eyes.
Would you like it if he was more romantic? He’s not even sure if you’re into that kind of thing, the boyfriends you had never made big gestures like that and you didn’t seem to care. Would you like it if it's him doing it? Well, it doesn’t hurt to try.
“Okay, I think I know what to do”, Jisung decides.
You still haven't given an answer to Jisung and that's making you feel bad, what's holding you right now? You know he likes you, but what if things don't work out, will you be able to keep being friends after all that?
To take your mind out of that for a bit, you finally graduate, after what it felt like ages. You poured all your blood, sweat and tears in the years that you spent in college, now you're finally free.
Jisung's parents and yours came to the city for your graduation celebration. You organized a dinner in a good restaurant and the night was so much fun, you laughed till your stomach hurt and your friends brought up all your embarrassing stories through all the years you spent in college.
The morning after you had trouble even opening your eyes, any light was too much and your eyes refused to open. You hear a few knocks on the door of your room, making you groan, telling the person — Jisung probably, to enter.
“You should get ready”, he says, making you frown, eyes still closed. “Don't pretend that you're still sleeping, it's afternoon”, he whines.
“I'm not pretending, my eyes can't take this much light”, you explain, you shouldn't have drank so much.
Jisung walks past you, going to the window and closing the blinds.
“Now you have no excuses”, he teases, watching as you flutter your eyes open slowly.
“Why do I need to get ready, though?” You ask, sitting down.
“We are going out”
“We are?”
“Yes, so get ready”, he informs you, walking past you in the direction of the door and leaving with no further explanation. What's this guy planning now?
You get up, grab a towel and a change of clothes and go to take a shower, knowing that arguing won't take you anywhere.
Jisung is waiting for you in the car, a cup of coffee and a sandwich waiting for you.
“Shall we?” He asks, turning on the engine when you enter the car and close the door.
“Couldn't we have had breakfast inside?” You ask, biting on the sandwich.
“It's not a breakfast if it's already afternoon”, he rolls his eyes, “I ate a long time ago and we are already late”
“Late for what?” You enquiry, sipping on the coffee.
“It's a surprise”, he grins, eyes focused on the road.
You sigh, knowing that he won't tell you, so you just finish eating while watching the scenario change, buildings turning into threes and farms.
“Don't you know how to plan dates in the city?” You ask, making him laugh.
“I do, but I wanted to do something specific on this date and I had a bit of trouble finding it”, he tells you.
The sun is already starting to set when Jisung parks in front of a school, making you from, what kind of date is this? You ask, trying to understand, until you see a crowd.
You get out, walking by yourself while Jisung locks the car, hearing his footsteps after you a few seconds later.
“What's this?” You ask, when you see the booths spread around the campus and the families and students walking around.
“A school festival”, he smiles, watching as you turn to look at him, confusion in your face. “A little bird told me that you found out about your feelings for me right around the time I took Haneul to the school festival on elementary school��, he bites on his bottom lip, “and you were there to witness my first date, even though you liked me”, he sighs, “so I thought that maybe I could make it up for that time by bringing you to a school festival, just me and you”, he explains, making your heart skip a bit. You never thought Jisung could be this romantic, you never knew you liked this kind of romantic stuff either, but the way your heart is beating makes you think that you do.
“I- Jisung I-”, you try to say but you can't form a coherent sentence, making him smile.
“Let's go, I got a lot of prizes to win for you”, he informs, stretching his hand in your direction so you can hold it and you do, you hold his hand without a second thought, ignoring his red ears and how hot your cheeks are.
You walk around the place, going to every booth, watching the performances and eating to your heart's content. Jisung is giving you food like his life depends on it, it's a mission of his to make you eat everything you set your eyes on and when you can't finish he does it for you, but he wants you to try everything.
“How are we supposed to carry all this?” You ask, arms full of the plushies he earned you.
“Like we are doing right now”, he answers, as if he has not been dropping the ones he's carrying all the time.
“You know the children must hate you, right?”
“It's not my fault if I have the power of love to help me win the big prizes”, he winks at you, making you feel your cheeks hot.
“Let's go, it's already late”, you tell him, walking faster in the direction of the car so Jisung won't notice how flustered you got.
You stuff the plushies in the backseat, feeling a few drops of rain fall on your face when you close the door, making you run to the passenger seat to escape. Jisung comes right after you, starting the car and driving back to the road.
“Can you check the forecast? I did it in the morning and there was nothing about rain”, he asks, the rain outside getting stronger.
“Sure”, you take your phone out of your pocket, searching for news about the weather. “It seems like it's one of those rains that start out of nowhere”, you explain, “and it's not going to stop any time soon”, you watch the dark road, little to no lighting.
“Should we look for a hotel, then?” Jisung asks, making you turn to him with wide eyes. “Hey! Don't get any weird ideas, we are going to separate rooms”, he informs you, covering his chest like you have the dirtiest mind.
“I didn't say anything”, you retort, crossing your arms.
“Hmph, but you thought”, he murmurs. “Can you look for a place nearby?” He asks but you were already doing that.
There's a nice hotel a few minutes from where you are and when you call them, they tell you there are rooms available but when you get there things are different.
“So… they only have a room”, you say, fidgeting.
“It's fine, I can sleep on the floor”, he shrugs, pressing for the elevator to come to you.
“Actually there are separate beds, so there's no need”, you chuckle, seeing his ears turning red.
“Great, that's great. My back appreciates it”, he rumbles, flustered like an idiot making you laugh.
The rain seems to get worse outside, now adding thunder and lightning to the chaos. The room is comfortable and clean, there's a bathroom and a minibar so you can eat something.
You take your coat, throwing it in one of the beds and walk to the window, closing the blinds and shivering watching the lightning outside. Jisung opens the fridge, looking inside to see if there’s anything interesting to eat and grabbing a bottle of water.
“Do you want it?” He asks, making you turn to look at him and nod, waiting as he walks to you, handing you the bottle.
“I think we should get to sleep soon, so we can go back early tomorrow”, you say, gulping the water and Han nods, finishing his.
You two get on your beds, it's weird to sleep in the same room as him after so long. You turn your back to him, hoping that not seeing his face is going to make it easier for you to sleep.
However, a thunder rumbles so loudly sounding like it's right by your room's window, making you jump.
“Jeez”, you squeal, covering your face with the blanket.
“Are you alright?” Jisung's voice sounds behind you, making you turn to look at him. He's staring at you, brows knit together in worry.
“I'm fine”, you tell him, even though you're not so sure.
“I know you're afraid of storms”, he sighs, biting on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to lay down with you? So you won't be so scared?”
You feel heat spreading all over you just by thinking about sleeping in the same bed as Jisung. You slept together a hundred times before so it shouldn't be so embarrassing to do it once more, but you're not sure if you're going to be able to behave if you go there.
“There's no need”, you tell him, closing your eyes and trying to fall asleep when another thunder sounds out there, seeming so much louder than before and making you jump again. “You know what? I think I'll accept your offer”, you say, watching as Jisung sits down, grabbing his pillow and blanket, standing up to move to your bed. He lays down so far from you that he's almost falling from the mattress.
“I won't bite you”, you roll your eyes, turning to look at him, facing the middle of the bed.
“I wouldn't mind if you did”, he chuckles, “I just don't want to make you uncomfortable”, he says and even with the darkness of the room, you can see his cheeks reddening when he gets closer.
“You won't make me uncomfortable, it's okay”, you put your arm down your pillow and the other one on top, your hand beneath your head, watching as Jisung fidgets, trying to find a good position without touching you. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” You enquiry, seeing as his eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically.
“Not at all, you're the person whom I feel the most comfortable with”, he confesses, making your cheeks burn and something more spread through your whole body.
Maybe things need to change. What then, if things don't workout? If you were going to think that way, you should have never confessed to your best friend in the first place. You decided to risk it all when you told him about your feelings and now he's the one pouring himself to you, waiting for you to choose him once more.
“If I asked you to kiss me now, would you?” You ask, gulping down, trying to stay calm even though your heart just turned into a hammer in your chest.
“Can I?” He asks, hopeful, watching as you nod slowly. His hands cup your face and in the split of a second his lips are on yours, his fingers caress your cheeks delicately and he holds you like you're the most fragile thing in the whole world.
This kiss is so much better, kissing him while being certain about what you're feeling is delightful. His kiss is still soft and sweet, yearning and hungry as if he's been waiting for this for a long time.
You slide your hands down his shirt, going to his back and digging your nails on his skin. He sighs on your lips, letting a little groan escape his mouth. Jisung's hands go down from your face too, sliding to your waist and hips to pull you closer to him, pressing your body against his.
When you two find it too difficult to breathe, he pulls away from you, trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck, biting on your soft skin, making you moan. Your eyes widen in embarrassment but Jisung looks at you with dark eyes, licking on his lips.
“You sound so good, please don't hold back”, he pleads, going back to marking you. “Can I take it off?” He asks, grabbing the hem of your shirt, making your whole face burn as you nod, sitting down so he can pull the piece of fabric out of your body. He watches as your chest rises and falls, you lay back down, looking around extremely flustered but he can't take his eyes out of you. You're the prettiest woman he ever got to know and he's so in love with you that it feels like his heart is about to explode.
Jisung leans closer to your face, kissing you again as you let your hands wander through his body, sliding them to his hips and digging your nails on his skin, pulling him against you, feeling his length pressing on your thigh.
“You're so pretty”, he sings praises as he kisses down your collarbone, reaching your breast and his hands go to your back, undoing your bra.
“Stop staring”, you feel your cheeks burning with the way his eyes wander through your chest.
“I can't, you're too beautiful”, he answers, leaning down do suck on your hardened peaks.
“Ji-Jisung”, your hands fly to his hair as you press him against your breasts, “that's so good”, you sigh, feeling his tongue circling around your nipple.
Jisung starts humping against your clothed core, making you gasp and groan as your hands cup his face, bringing him back to kiss you. He doesn't stop the movements of his hips, rubbing his hard cock and sighing on your lips.
“Can I eat you out?” He asks, biting on your bottom lip as he pulls away from you.
His eyes are dark like you have never seen, like he's in a daze but the reality is that Jisung is too drunk on your scent and your warmth to think about how lustful he may look at that moment.
“How much do you want it?” You tease, making him sigh, looking at you with puppy eyes, his hands going to the waistband of your pants, pulling it slightly away from your hips and playing with it, wanting to pull it down but waiting for your permission.
“I want to taste you so bad, you have no idea”, he bites on his bottom lip, “I feel like I might die if I don't feel your pussy clenching around my tongue right now”, he pleads, making your hips involuntarily thrust against his shaft, making him groan, “fuck. This is torture, please let me taste you, please”, he begs.
“I like it when you beg”, you try to pretend you're not dying to have his mouth down on you, “go ahead”
In a second Jisung is pulling your pants down, your panties going with it, he has no time to waste. He rushes to fit in between your legs, setting them over his shoulders as he kisses your inner thighs, trailing kisses closer and closer to your aching cunt.
“I can feel the scent of your arousal”, he teases, taking a deep breath, “You smell so good, baby”, he completes, making you groan in embarrassment.
“What are you, a dog?” You retort, trying to ignore the burning on your face.
“Only for you”, he grins before diving in on your pussy. Jisung attaches his mouth to your clit, the warmth of his tongue spreading all over your body and you lead your hands to his hair again, pressing him against your core. His fingers dig on your thighs like he wants to mark you, putting more strength on the way his face sticks between your legs.
“Jisung- fuck, Sungie”, you whine feeling his arm moving, his finger being inserted inside your folds. He thrust them in and out, eyes closed as he enjoys your taste, the way your juices spill all over the bed sheets, he wants every bit of it in his mouth but there's just too much, he can't have it all. It's okay though, he's planning to lick you clean everyday from now on, every time he makes you come on his tongue, he's not going to let any of your juices go to waste.
He puts another finger inside you, finally opening his eyes when he feels your walls fluttering around his knuckles.
“Fuck, are you gonna cum baby?” He asks, the look of pleasure in your face is so much that he has to hump against the bed to get some relief, his cock is throbbing so much, he feels he can cum just by looking at you.
“Y-hmm”, you are unable to form a whole word, the feeling spreading all over your body is too overwhelming, it's making you dazed and you can't think properly but you nod to him, hoping Jisung can understand that he shouldn't stop, not right now.
“Shit, y/n, come for me, please, I want to taste you coming on my tongue”, he tells you, going back to licking your cunt. He can feel the moment you cum, not just because you moan so loudly he thinks the other people on that floor can hear it but because your hole gets tighter around his fingers. You arch your back, hands going to the sheets as you grab them for dear life.
As you come down from your high, you're embarrassed to open your eyes. You never thought Jisung was one to do the whole dirty talking thing but if you think about it, there are quite a couple of things you didn't know about him.
You feel his kisses coming up your stomach, forcing you to open your eyes, you prop up on your elbows, watching him sneaking closer to you.
“Was it good?” He asks and you feel your whole face burning again but you nod anyways, feeling breathless when he smiles brightly, ears turning red.
You're ready to ask something but the huge bulge in his pants makes you gulp, staring for a second until his eyes follow yours and he blushes, turning with his stomach down so he can hide that part from you.
“Can I suck you off too?” You ask, licking your lips, suddenly eager to feel him coming on your mouth.
“I- I really want you to”, he clears his throat, looking around embarrassed, “but I don't think I'm gonna last long if I feel your pretty lips around me”, he says, making a huge smile grow on your lips.
“I never thought you'd be such a sweet talker in bed”, you confess, still squirming to his words.
Jisung smiles, leaning closer to you know, his chest pressed against yours and his length brushing on your leg.
“So, did you thought about how it would feel like if I fucked you?” His eyes darken again.
“I mean, lately you have been showing too much skin, it would be impossible for me not to have any dirty thoughts”, you confess.
“Fuck”, he groans, “do you want to keep goin?” He asks, kissing your neck, going up to your jaw and then your lips, “I don't have a condom but I'm sure we can make it work without putting it in”, he stares at you expectantly.
You feel the warmth on your lower stomach spread to all your body, shouldn't you feel less turned on now that you came?
“I- I'm on the pill, so…” you start saying and his eyes widen to your suggestion.
“Are you sure, it's okay if we don't-”
“I want to”, you assure him, “I want to feel all of you inside me, you have no idea how much I want to”, you plead and Jisung breathes a laugh, he's glad to see you're as desperate as he is.
“Okay”, he nods, “but if you want to stop at any time just tell me”, he says as he gets up from the bed to take his pants and underwear off.
When Jisung cock springs out of his underwear, hitting his stomach, you can't hold the moan that escapes your lips as you watch how painfully hard he is. He crawls back to your side, letting his hand rest on your stomach as he kisses you again.
“Do you have a position you want to be in?” He asks, shyly, as if you both are not fully naked in front of each other.
“I'd like to stay on top if it's okay”, you whisper and he nods.
“Yeah, I'd love that”, he says, laying down after giving you a peck on the lips. You take a deep breath before kissing him too, mouth trailing down his jaw and neck. You mark him, giving him hickeys all around his chest.
Jisung cups your face, bringing your lips to his as you throw a leg over his hip, rubbing your wet folds on the length of his cock, that small stimulation making you moan.
“Shit, you're so hot”, he whines, biting on his bottom lip as he stares at you. You chuckle, grabbing his shaft and positioning it on your entrance, closing your eyes and sighing to the mere pressure of his head splitting your foulds in a half. You sink down on his cock, moaning loudly, feeling him stretching you out perfectly.
“Oh- oh, this is so good, fuck”, you whine, letting yourself get used to the feeling.
“You're so tight”, he groans, hands going straight to your hips, digging his fingers on the flesh. “It feels so good inside you”
Jisung closes his eyes, overwhelmed with you, it's too much, your warmth is hugging him, making him whine and groan like an animal. But he wants you to feel as good as he's feeling, so he takes one of his hands from your hip to your mouth, brushing his middle and index fingers on your lips.
“Suck on them, baby”, he asks, making you moan and do as you're told. Jisung grins, taking his hand down to your core and pressing them on your clit, making circles around the puffy bud.
“Ah- Sungie, that's- that's too much”, you whine riding him slowly, feeling your orgasm growing at each passing second. The knot on your stomach ready to burst when you feel his cock throbbing inside you, making you open your eyes to look at him.
He's stunning even coming undone beneath you, Jisung has his lips partially open, his hair stuck on his sweaty forehead and his moans are just like music to your years, the prettiest sound he ever made and it's just yours now, it's just for you to hear it.
“I'm gonna come! Y/n, I'm gonna come”, he warns you so you can get off him if you want to but you sink deeper, causing him to reach his orgasm, spilling his hot cum inside you. You follow him shortly when he puts more pressure on your clit while he's coming, making you tremble and moan as you spasm with pleasure.
You fall down on his chest, feeling Jisung's arms wrap around you as he gently lays you down by his side. He pulls the blanket to cover you and gives you a kiss on the top of your head as he watches you blinking into sleep.
Jisung wakes up to an empty bed. His hand wanders through the sheets, searching for your warm body to snuggle in as he opens his eyes but he finds nothing, just a cold space.
He sits on the bed to look around, trying to find you but you're nowhere to be seen and suddenly dread takes over him. Did you go home? Did you leave him behind? Did you regret spending the night with him?
Those thoughts break his heart, he looks around once more just to make sure he's not mistaken and you're actually there with him. He gets up, putting on sweatpants and walking to the bathroom. He knocks a few times, hoping that you're there, that you're going to tell him to wait because you're in there but no sound comes back to him and when he opens the door the space is empty.
Jisung sits down on the edge of the bathtub, he wants to cry. He shouldn't have expected you to stay with him just because you spent one night together, he should have known that, but why does it hurt so much? Why does he feel like a part of his heart was ripped out?
He sighs, guessing this is your answer to his confession. Could you still be friends after what happened last night? He can't be sure. He goes around the room, collecting the rest of his things and finishing getting dressed, couldn't you have waited for him? The keys are still on the table, so how did you go home without the car?
When he's grabbing said keys though, the room's door swings open, welcoming in a very sweaty you.
“Ah, you're up?” You pout, “I thought I would be able to come back before you woke up”, you smile. How can you smile like that when you just broke his heart? How could you have disappeared?
“You came back?” He asks, arms falling limp by his sides. He stares at you with the eyes of a wounded puppy and that's when you know you did something you shouldn't.
“Yeah? You thought I left you?” You tease, trying to be funny but when he sulks, eyes growing glossy, it sinks in. “You did”, you come to the conclusion, closing the door behind you.
You walk to Jisung, putting the bag you have in your hands on the table.
“I went to buy breakfast but it turns out there aren't many places that sell decent food around here”, you explain, “it ended up taking more time than it was supposed to, I should have left a note. I'm sorry”
“I thought you had decided that you didn't want to stay with me”, Jisung whines, “that after last night you found out that I'm not enough for you anymore. That I really ruined everything”, he cries out, a single tear running down his cheek.
“Jisung, of course I wouldn't leave you behind even if I had decided I didn't want to date you”, you tell him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, trying to give him some reassurance.
“I was even preparing a speech in my head”, he pouts, “about how even if we don't date I'd still see you the same way. I'd be by your side forever even if it's not romantically, I'd be happy to watch you live your life, even if it's with someone else as long as you were happy”, he tells you. “Your love was already something I couldn't reach so I'm grateful that you gave me the chance to show you how much I love you”
“So you're going to be happy even if I marry someone else?” You question, making him sulk even more.
“I won't be happy but if you're that's enough for me”
“But I wouldn't want my boyfriend to be happy that I'm marrying someone else”, you tell him, smiling slightly as you watch the sentence you just said sink in on him and the sparkling grow in his eyes.
“Bo-boyfriend?” He asks, hesitant.
“Of course, or did you think I'd smash then dash?” You chuckle, his cheeks turn red and he pouts pulling you closer with the hand you have holding yours.
“So you love me back, right?” He questions, making you smile, nodding.
“I do”
“‘Cause I love you so much it feels like my heart is about to burst”, he says, putting your hand on his chest, his heart beating like crazy, making you smile. “Then, do you want to be my girlfriend?”
“Ye-”, his lips are on yours before you can finish the sentence, making you sigh, just forgetting about the breakfast and also to check out, calling the reception and updating your stay for another half day.
When you show up at Jeongin’s birthday holding hands and looking lovey dovey, everyone sighs relieved and you have to hear Minho’s and Seungmin's sarcastic ass saying “finally” and “I thought I would die before you two would finally fuck”, respectively.
Your daily life with Jisung went about almost the same as before, except that now you'd basically share the same room, you'd rarely sleep in yours. You make food and take it to the company when he's too busy, sometimes you even stay there till late in the night, waiting for him to finish recording so he can come home with you and cuddle in bed until you two fall asleep.
Your parents don't make a big deal about it, you swore your father would make you move to another place after the news came out but he just sighed, telling you that he knew this would happen someday and that he's happy you are dating someone as good as Jisung.
A few months go by and your relationship is still going smoothly. Of course you have some arguments here and there but nothing that you can't fix with a conversation.
You accepted the proposal of the guys to go touring with them and that's how you ended up in their dressing room, waiting for them to get back there after their last show on the tour.
The door opens and you hear the boys' loud voices coming in, greeting them and telling how nice the show was.
“You see how hard your future husband works?” Jisung brags, walking up to you and pulling you aside. He wraps his arms around you and you feel your cheeks burn, you still feel flustered to hear him saying this kind of thing.
“Future husband?” You tease, giggling as he pouts, frowning.
“Yeah, or do you let any man do this to you?” He pulls you closer and gives you a peck on the lips.
“Maybe?” You tease, making him stare at you with his brows raised, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“It seems like you need some punishment”, he sighs, looking at his hands before attaching them to your stomach, tickling you.
“Stop!” You scream, laughing and trying to get away from him.
“Say you're only mine”, he pouts, tickling you even more.
“Jisung, I'm gonna kill you”, you struggle to say between giggles.
“I'll die happily if you say I'm the only one for you”, he pushes, pressing his fingers even harder against your stomach.
“Okay, alright”, you give in, making him stop to look at you. “You are the only one for me and I'm all yours, happy?” You roll your eyes, watching his pout turning into a big smile.
“Say it one more time”, he whines.
“I love you”, you say, making Jisung stare at you for a moment, before his cheeks start turning pink.
“I'll never get tired of hearing that”, he smiles, holding your hand and bringing it to his mouth for him to kiss. “I love you”, he says, leaning in for a kiss, the sweetest you have ever shared.
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A/N: If you like my work, please don't forget to reblog, it really helps my stories reach new people so more readers can come to enjoy what I write.
If you want to support me you can also buy me a coffee ☕
Taglist(in red are the ones I couldn't tag): @hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @starsandrqindrops @itshannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98 @blithevix @astro-doll-the-star @captainchrisstan @rag-iii @notastraykid @jisunghannie @applepie-macaroon @stayingdelulu @sundayysunshine @kidrauhlschik @wolfennracha @meloncremesoda @hanschimpmunk @realrintaro @teejisung @maexc @gyustarzzi @ivaneedssleep @chaeryred @daemon-bunny @broken-glowsticks @ch4nniebang @sleepyleeji @seukijeuxq @luvbangchan @lovesunshinefelix @hyunjins-dimples @castielsfrillywhiteknickers @armystaytiny @literallyjustwanttoread @jungkookies1002 @diorggukie @channieandhisgoonsquad @mamabymychem @ladylexis @bmnyy
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seraphinitegames · 6 months ago
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Hi Sera! I absolutely love your writing and I can’t wait for the next chapter to come out! By the way, I’m not sure whether this has been asked before, but as the writer, whose romance do you enjoy writing the most, or do you like them all the same?
Best wishes and good luck on your writing! ❤️
I specifically don't have a favourite, lol! Part of the reason I made each romance very different is so as I can enjoy elements of them all as strongly as the other.
Like A's brooding 'no, we can't do this for reasons unknown' trope of romance just gets me every time. Is it healthy? Jeez, no! Do I still swoon for it in fiction? Oh yeah! Lol! :D
N's suave and charming with a hint of something mysterious gets me really involved and sweeps me off my feet. To be with someone who is confident and assured in who they are but also with secrets to uncover.
M's romance is interesting as I wrote it specifically for the more physical aspect, as I'd never written a romance like that before. Not just the sex part, but more physical in general—a character who is usually averse to touch but finally finds someone with who they finally feel relief at being touched from and gets the unbelievable comfort from it.
F's, well, F was written to be the romance route that you get to just have fun with. It's easy, it's sexy, it's loving. But my word, has it seriously blossomed into a romance that is everything to me! :D
I think one of the most fun things of writing the romances as they develop over a series and not just one book is seeing how the popularity swings and sways with you guys! That is always interesting to watch!
Thank you so much for the ask! :)
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xotaemintol · 7 months ago
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Who are the best kissers in NCT iyo? (Plz include RIIZE im begging)
NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
! (You will be blocked if you are a minor) !
Ofc I can add Riize 🩷🩷 I hope you don’t mind that I only did six members, this list would be even longer if not for my writers block 🥲 but in my opinion, the best kissers in NCT are….
Yuta is such a good kisser. Probably the best on the list actually, when he kisses you it always feels so sensual—he used the perfect amount of tongue; never too much or too little. He’s confident in his skills so he usually ends up leading, in the beginning of the kiss he’ll let you lead for a little while, especially if you kissed him first. But when he’s done letting you take the wheel, he’ll change the pace and add a little tongue. If you let him, he’ll kiss you until your lungs are aching, but even then it’s not enough for him. He has to keep going until you’re begging for him to fuck you, he kisses you until you’re basically begging for more. He’s the most likely to finger you while making out with you because he gets so turned on by kissing you, it happens so often actually that you refuse to kiss him in public unless it’s small kisses on the cheek.
Mark, is definitely one of the best kissers in NCT. The first time you made out with him as a dare and it was so good you were practically dragging him to his bedroom. Ever since then Mark has always been the best. And you should’ve expected it when he said that he was “pretty okay” at kissing. He’s more of a slow and steady type of guy when it comes to kissing, he wants to make sure you really feel his lips—that you feel butterflies when he slips his tongue into your mouth and that you can tell just how badly he wants to be inside of you. He won’t hold you there until you’re about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, in fact he’s the first to pull away; but it’s only so he can watch you follow his lips waiting for more. He thinks kissing you is so hot, and he finds it so sexy when you get turned on from kissing him.
Sungchan is almost too good, his lips are so soft and warm, they feel otherworldly. He could kiss your underwear off and you wouldn’t even notice, and it’s actually happened more than once or twice. The way his tongue feels in your mouth makes your knees so weak, if your lungs gave out from kissing him you’d be perfectly fine with that because he’s so good. Making out with him when you can’t go all the way is like asking to be frustrated for the rest of the day, and he doesn’t make it any better. His hands are just as slick as his tongue, and as soon as he feels your lips quiver he knows exactly what to do next. It goes from kissing to practically fucking each other with your mouths, it’s so passionate and heated…you could get off just from kissing him and he knows that too.
Jaehyun is very obviously a great kisser, he’s so smug about it too—grinning against your lips when you lean into him a bit too much or quickly. Biting down on your bottom lip ever so softly as he pulls away, and he can’t even hide how turned on he gets when kissing you too. It’s so hot. The way he breathlessly chuckles as hes teasing you by just grazing your lips with his own, even if his entire face is flushed and he’s practically panting. But when he starts actually kissing you he immediately becomes weak in the knees, moaning quietly into your mouth with you sat on his lap…he’s so weak when he’s making out with you and it only makes kissing him feel so much better.
Haechan is so good…he always leaves you wanting more, you could kiss him until his lips fall off. The way his lips feel is so heavenly, and when he’s kissing you he’s not going to tease you…if he’s not too frustrated that is. But on his worse days (but best for you) when he’s desperate to be inside of you, he kisses you like he need you to breathe. Don’t pull away from him for a second, he’ll hold your head there and keep going until you’re both light headed. Not even then is he done though, with kiss swollen lips he’ll pull you closer to him—until your bodies are so close that they could melt together from the heat, and continues the kiss you broke. He looks so fucked out just from making out with you, his entire face is flushed and he’s panting as he starts at you and then your lips…he’s just as addicted to kissing you as you are him.
Ten is so good that he makes you feel sensitive, hes either really experienced or just really luckily to be that good. He chuckles against your lips every time you whimper or moan into his mouth, sometimes if he’s feeling kinky enough he’ll lick your tongue. He’s such a kinky kisser. Kissing him is almost better than sex, and instead of kissing you until your lips hurt he’ll pull away and make you ask for him to kiss you. And don’t just say you want it, no. He wants you to describe how you want him to kiss you, if you want his tongue in your mouth you better say it, if you want him to bite your lip you better say it. Depravity is the key for him, it’s okay if you cant keep up with him—but he always expects you to learn and apply what you’ve learned where you see fit. And that means returning all of his teasing bites, every lick, and all of his slightly degrading remarks.
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