#also read blue lock you'd like it i promise

[haleigh-sloth]

I always was under the vague impression that blue lock was some kind of sports anime Hunger games situation where they had very literal death matches. Finding out that it is like.... a yaoi bait sports anime is the plot twist of the century for me.

do not give me the opportunity to talk about blue lock I literally will never shut up (thank you)

I haven't watched squid games but people make the comparison a lot and the comparison is made in-manga as well. It IS intense, like if they lose or get disqualified they will NEVER be allowed to play for Japan EVER. So the stakes are high, as far as soccer is concerned I guess. Lol.

Also you're telling me. I started it bc I was watching Haikyuu and enjoying it and I thought blue lock's art was fire so I gave it a go. Didn't expect it to literally be this:

Also it's quite literally beyond yaoi bait in some instances....lol

I saw a comment that said "blue lock's soccer is a metaphor for gay sex" and, well, the dialogue/internal thoughts and phrasings in their matches were already suggestive, so when they started openly flirting and talking about climaxing and getting off on the field I was like, well, okay

that doesn't even include the times they talk about finding "pleasurable moments" from beating each other and "colliding with each other and erupting" while scoring a goal

There's one character who compares scoring a goal to fertilizing an egg in a uterus and when he scored a goal he told the audience he was going to knock them up so (this character is also openly gay, he and one other character were confirmed in a gay couple, lmao, but also it's unlikely many of these characters are actually straight so there's also that)

this panel is where all the unhinged sexual commentary started, and from here it just NEVER fucking stopped

and imo that's an insane yet genius way to tell your audience "hey this manga is about to get pretty openly homo and here is your introduction"

it's also a fucking harem manga without it being a harem, literally every main character is obsessed with the main character in some way, some more than others. One character is very much in love with him (he says I love you using aishiteru, among other moments that are like...yeah), the others either admire him in a weird but somewhat supportive way or have let him absolutely ruin their psyche for what are not-very-acceptable-reasons imo

yeah yeah death match, the thing is there's only one character who talks about killing everyone when he's playing and he's one of the only ones who isn't talking about getting hard and getting off on the field, so when he's the main one talking about killing everyone (one person in particular) it's less intense death-match energy and more fucking hilarious "holy shit this dude is crazy and kind of a sad loser someone help him" energy (he's the sole token sad emo boy of the story, he's also the biggest problem in the story, so there's that)

anyway I mean both in and out of context this panel is just hilarious

[auroracalisto]

Hey can you do a fiyero x reader where the reader is afraid of being vulnerable and he helps them?

yes, superfartninja, i think i can.

to be changed.

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 3.4k words summary: to be vulnerable meant to be defenseless. it was a liability and that's all it ever would be. fiyero couldn't have that, now could he? a/n: please remember that i only have movie knowledge, so this will be based solely on what i saw in the movie. :P also, shout outs to house song by searows (was on repeat for this fic). erm. this kind of got away from me. i started it was 12 AM and now it's nearly 2 AM. hope it's coherent.

It wasn't like you to be vulnerable. It just didn't happen. It was like... asking a fish or an elephant to climb a tree, or some other weird analogy that you heard oh-so-long ago, when vulnerability aged you more than it helped.

To be vulnerable meant to be hurt. To be ridiculed, to be laughed at, to be made a fool in front of anyone who cared to look your way. It was something that you knew was not needed. You would be fine living by yourself. You came into this world alone and screaming, and you would leave this world the same way.

If you cut out the wound before it began to fester, you solved the problem immediately. Or so they say.

So that's what you did, long ago, when you swore to yourself that the pain you felt would be the very last time. It would never happen again. It couldn't happen again.

Oh, Oz, it couldn't. Your heart couldn't take it.

What was left of your heart, anyway. Sometimes you feared you no longer had one, especially when you feared the pain that would haunt you if someone else came along and made you feel that way again.

It's not that you were afraid. No, fear of being vulnerable was foolish. At least... you believed that you weren't afraid of being vulnerable.

Perhaps that was an act of foolishness in itself. Pretending that you weren't afraid. Pretending that having few friends and few moments of happiness didn't pierce your heart with every passing second.

Perhaps you needed to be better. To be vulnerable, to swear off that silly promise you made to yourself so many years ago.

But it was so difficult.

Being vulnerable was to be in pain. To be lost to a world of sorrow. To be... hurt by the very thing you swore you'd never be hurt by again.

It wouldn't happen.

You wouldn't let it.

He existed in the back of your mind. His beautiful blue eyes, the way those pretty locks fell in front of his eyes when he actually studied his books (if he ever did, of course).

When was the last time he actually tried...? No. You couldn't think of him like that. Too much thinking about his pretty face would ruin you.

You had only talked to him a few times here and there, and the first time was to merely ask him to move out of the way. He took up quite a lot of space—or at least, maybe it was his confidence. It oozed from him like an air of upmost superiority.

No...

You were just being cruel. He was just standing in the way, out of breath from singing to Galinda in the library (because of course—who didn't sing to pretty girls in libraries anymore?).

The second time you spoke to him was over the essay you had to write in your literature class. Peer reviews were the bane of your existence, and this essay, because of course it did, had a simple prompt in response to one of your readings: Taking into account the author's sheer disdain for the idea of magic, write what you believe Oz would be like without magic.

Thought-provoking, yes. You wrote a decent two pages, handwritten of course.

He gave you a paragraph.

If the world of Oz existed without magic, perhaps we would all be better off. No more bickering over the usages of it all, no more idiosyncrasies, no more debates on whether you are intelligent or mediocre if you hadn't the ability to wave a wand or utter a simple spell. If we didn't have magic, perhaps life would be far more difficult, but I also feel as if we should see what it would be like. Maybe there would be less heartbreak. More happiness to go around.

Okay. A piss-poor paragraph that made you wonder how he was even passing Madame Lillabet's literature class.

Maybe he wasn't.

You didn't feel pity for the man—nobility had the ability to do so many things that you would only ever dream of. Why should you feel pity—vulnerability—for a man you didn't know, let alone understood?

Oz, even now, his essay haunted you. You did your best with your review, pointing out the obvious things missing—a decent thesis, body paragraphs that proved his thesis, and just in general, an entire essay that was expected of the entire class.

He merely read over your essay and made one simple comment: Excellent.

Oh, yes, excellent. It was excellent to know that he was just trying to help your essay, yes? Leaving that little comment, even though you didn't make full marks—how was it supposed to help you?

Pity be damned. He was a fool, through and through.

Things muddled in your mind like they often did. Thoughts racing, heartbeat close behind the quick pace.

If you had magic, you'd be sure to quell it.

These thoughts were the one thing that you wished you could squash under the heel of your boot. They were the bane of your existence, the utterance of a foolhardy penance to the god of whatever looked down upon you and wished for pain.

Perhaps that was what was meant for you.

A life of pain—of pity from others, of the amenability to be swayed by those around you even when you tried, desperately, to stay away from those who may catch your attention.

Like him.

Oh, Oz, just like him.

Fiyero.

The man who'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders. The man who once told you in passing that if he hadn't a brain, perhaps classes would be easier—then he wouldn't truly be all there, and he'd easily get around the... well, specifics of it all. The man whom you felt tugging at your heartstrings, even when you told yourself no.

It would not happen.

It could not happen.

You would not let it.

In typical, terrible luck fashion, you found yourself wandering the halls of Shiz late at night, unable to sleep. The thoughts racing through your head of so many things, not just him (although they kept leading back to the fool), they just weren't stopping.

An exam was to be held tomorrow. Perhaps you could create a distraction—keep the professors from being able to do as they needed. There were a box of fireworks hidden in one of the many corridor closets, kept for special occasion. You could whip a few of them out and create so much chaos that they'd surely have to cancel the exam!

You leaned against the railing, looking down at the stonework of Shiz's courtyard. A chill ran down your spine from the cold breeze, and for once, all was silent if only for a moment.

His voice brought you out from your thoughts.

"Y/n," he said, an obvious smile playing at his lips.

You squeezed your eyes shut and glanced back at him. Without saying a word, you acknowledged him.

"Doesn't look like your dorm," he continued. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

"Thinking."

His eyebrow quirked. "Thinking? Oh," he softly hummed, coming to stand beside of you. "Well, that's no fun, now is it? What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

He snorted softly. "You're thinking about... nothing?"

"Whatever I'm thinking is none of your business," you retorted.

He stared you down for a moment, tilting his head curiously. He hummed again and looked out at where you had been staring moments prior.

"You are right," he softly said, voice much quieter this time. "Let me lead you back to your room. We have an exam tomorrow, remember? You at least need to pretend to sleep."

You paused. Since when did he care about exams? You glanced at him, fighting the urge to question him. You let out a soft sigh and shrugged, allowing him to lead you to your dorm.

The walk was quiet, and you almost questioned how he knew where your dorm was, but you didn't. He seemed to pay attention better than most (it was part of that aloofness, you've noticed), and it wasn't the first time he had seen you near your dorm.

It was at least the third. The number had to be easy to memorize by now. 133.

As you opened your door, Fiyero spoke. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Dangerous thing for you, isn't it?" you quipped, not looking at him as you stepped inside.

He let out a soft chuckle. You amused him to no end.

"Yes, perhaps," he softly said. "But besides. I was still thinking. I've been... well, wondering if perhaps you would—"

"—no."

He blinked slowly. "What? No? Y/n, you didn't even hear what I had to say—"

"—the answer is still no," you said. You glanced up at him from the spot you had been staring at, frowning. "I don't know what this is, but we are not friends. Do not ask me for favors."

"Not friends, hm?" he softly hummed, leaning against the doorway as he locked eyes with you. So knowing your dorm number was just a fluke.

"Not friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably go and pretend to sleep."

His upper lip quirked in a faint smirk. Not friends, but you still joked with him as a friend would do. He rolled his eyes and gave you a rather joking half-bow.

"Of course," he said. "Do not let me keep you up. Perhaps I should find my dorm as well."

"You should do that," you simply said, shutting the door right after.

You didn't give him a chance to say anything else, quickly locking the door and heading back to your bed.

Heart pounding, mind still racing, but not with the thoughts of earlier. No, dear reader, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

So impressionable, so—so kind, so—well, was he really kind?

To you.

He was kind to you.

Nearly a week passed you by. The exam went rather well, without any kind of distraction. Passing marks and a somewhat decent night sleep.

You do everything you can to try and avoid Fiyero. Running this way and that, going through all of the longer corridors instead of the shortcuts you knew by heart. You did everything you could to avoid his handsome face.

You did everything you could to avoid the vulnerability that plagued your heart every time you thought of him.

If you simply embraced the wants of Fiyero, perhaps not having a brain would keep you from thinking this way. You'd still have a heart, sure, but it was much better than keeping yourself on your toes wondering if you'd see the damned man at any passing second.

On the hour of the rising moon, almost exactly on the dot, Fiyero spotted you. And this time, you were not evading him.

He practically took off after you, leaving his friends behind. They scoffed and called after him, but he didn't look back. His focus was on you.

He grabbed onto your wrist as you went to leave, not letting you go.

"Y/n! There you are," he softly said. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I wouldn't have thought it would be so difficult to find you, but—"

"—there you go, thinking again," you blurted, unable to stop yourself. Your tongue was wagging faster than your brain was working.

He weakly smiled. "Yes. I know. How ironic, hm?"

You watched as he stared you down.

"Look," he softly began. "I truly—I do not know what I did to deserve you ignoring me at any which way, but I wish you would tell me why. What did I do, Y/n? I thought—well, I assumed that we were friends, but perhaps I was wrong. I find myself wrong quite often nowadays."

"I—well, Fiyero, I—" you paused. You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. "I don't have friends."

He blinked slowly. "You don't have friends? What of the one girl you were with the other day? Milla?"

"I do not have friends," you repeated. "I have... acquaintances. People I do not get attached to."

"That is sad."

"What?"

He raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a commonality when he spoke with you. The staple eyebrow raise had to happen or else he wasn't really chatting with you.

"It is sad. Why wouldn't you want to get attached to people?"

"I don't want to have meaningless relationships," you said. You avoided saying, I don't want to have relationships at all. "Not everyone can be as friendly as you, Fiyero."

He rolled his eyes. "Friendly. Yes. I talk to people, but I would rather not have all the attention that I do."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "You play the popular little prince and then claim you do not want it? What is that, Fiyero?"

Fiyero pursed his lips. "It is just—this is not a conversation about me. I wanted to have an intervention for you since you seemed as though you were avoiding me every which way. Now. Just—"

"—an intervention? What? Please. You sound ridiculous."

"So do you!" he returned, hands to his hips like an older man scolding a child for something they broke. "You vex me, Y/n! You act as if you are interested in me, then run away hiding like a scared little pup. You act as if you are afraid to get close to anyone."

You stared at him, lips parted ever-so-slightly. But it was enough. You were done for.

He let out a curt laugh. "You are."

"What?"

"You are. Scared. I can see it in you. You listen to what I have to say, even when the others don't. I've made an effort to pay attention to you. To see what you—"

"—Fiyero, stop."

"Do not tell me to stop, Y/n," he said, voice low with conviction. "Not now. Not when I've finally figured you out. You are scared. But of what? Being close to someone? Having a friend?"

You frowned. "I am not scared—"

"—you look at me like if I were to touch you, you'd melt."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"I can see it in your eyes, Y/n," he said, not looking away. He held eye contact with you and hoped that you would continue to do the same. "You—you're scared. To open your heart to the people around you."

You frowned, again. It was perpetual anymore. "And you're a sad man who dances and pretends everything is fine because Galinda said you looked pretty one day."

He blinked slowly, a smile quirking on his lips. "Maybe. But this—this isn't about me, Y/n. This is about you."

"What even is this? I didn't agree to have you psychoanalyze everything I've ever done."

"Neither did I, yet here we are," he said. "I've had a lot of time to think, to mull it over, and I know it. I know it now. You are scared. I don't know what happened to you. I don't know who hurt you in your past, or if something tragic happened to make you so cold inside, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with being... with being vulnerable, Y/n. There's something... magical, even, about opening up to others."

"Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you?"

He frowned. "Y/n—"

"—no. Absolutely not. You do not get to sit there and ridicule me for not wanting to be close to people and then not take what I give you," you said. "You do not let anyone close to you. Sure, Galinda, but what does she know about you? Does she know how you half-ass everything? How you hardly even talk to your 'friends' and just let them float along with you like everything is fine and dandy? You're as sad as I am, if that's what you're trying to say. Don't try to fool yourself."

"I am not trying to fool myself," he softly said. "I am only trying to make it known that I see you. I see myself in you."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "The rich, popular boy sees himself in little ol' me. That's perfect."

"Y/n—"

"—no. Don't. Stop. Just. I don't want to talk to you anymore. We're not friends. We never were friends. Just leave me alone."

It's simple, but it shuts him down. And with that, you run from his side, rushing to hide away in your dorm.

You couldn't believe what you did. Blowing up at him instead of listening to what he had to say. He read you like the children's book your heart truly was—while everyone else focused on the words, he focused on the pictures. The minute details that seemed to pass by everyone's mind because the story was flowing far too quickly.

He saw the delicate brush strokes, the intricate colors, the pieces of you that the words did not show.

He knew you.

And it scared you.

Only you knew yourself. If anyone else were to know who you were, deep inside, well, that would be disastrous.

It couldn't happen.

You couldn't let it.

Fear.

Perhaps fear was the best way to describe the way you felt.

You sat by the edge of the lake in the forest just beyond Shiz's campus, fingers gently brushing against the water. The surface rippled, sending small waves to the end of the shore.

You were afraid.

Of what?

Of a man knowing you?

Of Fiyero knowing you better than even your family once knew you?

You sat there, thoughts racing through your mind. It was as if you couldn't avoid them anymore.

Days had passed since you blew up at Fiyero and ran. You couldn't avoid him forever, you knew that, but it seemed as if your thoughts believed the same.

Tears pricked at your eyes. The warm, salty tears began to fall before you could even try to stop them, and a soft sob bubbled at the back of your throat.

"Y/n?"

Shit.

You quickly wiped your tears away and looked back at him—at Fiyero. But your tears wouldn't stop. A soft sob rippled through you and you turned your head away.

Fiyero came to your side, kneeling down in the soft earth beside of you. He inwardly grimaced at the dirt, but he said nothing of it. He'd bathe in mud if it meant you would stop your tears.

He reached forward, gently placing a hand to your cheek. He turned your head to face him.

"Y/n," he softly said. "It's alright. You... you're alright."

Another sob.

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him. You didn't pull away, melting into his embrace as he said you would before. He pressed his chin to the top of your head, situating himself so he would be more comfortable near you.

He softly hummed a soft tune—you remembered it. The one thing he hummed quite often when you caught him alone, or trying to focus on his school work.

Dancing through life, skimming the surface... Life's more painless for the brainless.

He was just a sad boy with needs of his own, much like you were scared of being seen. Of being known.

Of being loved.

Oh. Oh, that's what it was.

It terrified you to no end.

Fiyero pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"What's got you so upset, love?" he softly asked, wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs.

You shook your head. "I... later," you mumbled. You leaned into his grasp, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes soften.

He released a soft, shaky sigh of his own, before he pulled you back into his arms. He'd hold you until the end of the world if that's what you needed him to do.

Being vulnerable—it was the one thing you had told yourself you would never do. Ever again. And here you were, letting this man hold you and practically lull you into a calmness you'd never felt before.

Is this what it felt like? To be... weak? To be... frail?

No.

Vulnerability... it didn't mean that.

It meant that you were... open. That you had managed to open your heart to a more... malleable form.

To be changed.

To find the one thing in life that you knew would keep you going for as long as it could.

To be vulnerable meant to be loved.

[cosmicalily]

"love (and caffeine) on the brain" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist and outline here

month 13: more than memory | barista!kim seungmin x psych major!reader

author's note: i just needed to create another fic within my procedural memory universe (and be a psychology nerd). also i finally started a taglist !! please send me an ask if you'd like to be added xx

The windowpane you sat by was frosted and cold, but the cafe was warm, especially the particularly cosy corner you’d always sneak yourself into. It was right by the heater, a soft blue coloured sofa with a low mahogany table in front of you. The cafe walls were dark green, and the space was dimly lit, inviting and familiar. For the past few months, you’d brought in a book to read, and would lounge on the sofa as if it was your own apartment, sporadically receiving honey chai in miniature teapots and oat matcha lattes from your sweet boyfriend, Seungmin. Other days, you’d sit yourself at a table near the barista counter, and he would test out new coffee blends and teas, giving you little samples and asking for your advice.

However, today was not a day for reading or tea-tasting. Your university had started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow you had been lucky enough to receive an assignment due by the end of the week. Which, you’d just realised upon waking up, was tonight. 

Throwing on a navy cable knit sweater and knotting a pale pink scarf around your neck, you’d sprinted, or rather stumbled, out of your apartment in your uggs after Seungmin, who was heading out to open up the cafe.

“It’s 7:30,” Seungmin had said to you, quickly reaching forward to catch your laptop before it slipped out of your grasp as you locked the door.

“I know. I have to get an essay done by tonight, so I’m heading into the office with you,” you replied, tucking your hair behind your ears and taking a quick breath to regain your composure.

Seungmin smiled. “And by office, you mean the blue sofa in my cafe?”

“You know I do, baby.”

The two of you walked along the route he always took to the cafe, fingers entwined. As per usual, Seungmin paused to pet every dog you met along the way, asking for names, ages, breed types and temperaments as he scratched ear after furry ear. As per usual, you would take a moment to glance into the little vintage store adjacent to the cafe, seeing if there was anything new in the window. 

As Seungmin began setting up the coffee machine for the day, you set up chairs, wiped tables and turned on lights. Felix, Seungmin’s best friend, stopped by to drop off the day’s delivery of pastries and cakes, and you helped him set them up in the little glass cabinet on the benchtop. Once everything was done, you and Seungmin took turns taking bites of an almond croissant, and you left him to serve his first customer with a kiss on the lips and a mug of hot chocolate.

With a stretch of your wrists and a deep breath, you put on your glasses and sat yourself down, periodically taking sips from your hot chocolate as you formulated research, cited sources and structured paragraphs. At ten-forty-five, he made you an iced latte with the vanilla flavoured oat milk he kept specifically for you, leaning down to meet your eyes and giving you a smile. At half past twelve, Seungmin brought you a sandwich from the deli next door and a chamomile tea, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and rubbing your shoulders. At quarter past two, he swapped your plate and empty cup for a strawberry matcha latte, and you wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into his chest for a moment as you took a breather. 

“Don��t work yourself too hard, yeah?” he said, more like a statement than a question.

“I promise,” you replied, kissing him lightly on the lips before resuming your work.

At three, when he shut off the coffee machine, he heard you sigh in relief and close your laptop, and turned around to see you stretch your shoulders and slide down the sofa. He approached you slowly, then threw himself onto you, wrapping his arms around your waist and shoving his face in your shoulder as you giggled.

“You big baby,” you chuckled, running a hand through his hair and sitting up, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you. 

“Since when is it illegal for a guy to be proud of his girlfriend for smashing out an essay in a day?” he huffed, but leaned in closer. “What was it about?”

“A comparative analysis of two contemporary studies on the psychological process of memory,” you replied. “A lot of work, but it was really interesting. The whole concept is so fascinating.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” The same way you loved watching Seungmin make coffee, the love in his eyes and the subtle confidence in his work, he loved to listen to you talk about your study; there was something captivating about you in your element, so passionate about what you were learning and writing about. 

“Basically, the whole point I covered was implicit memory. The kind of stuff that we don’t consciously retrieve, it just comes back involuntarily. Like muscle memory and emotions. It’s so cool, and it’s so interesting when I can see it in real life. Like how now, you don’t even have to do the measurements properly when you make me a strawberry matcha, because it’s just natural. And like how I still get butterflies when I come here, because it’s where we first met. It’s honestly so beautiful.”

You loved the explanation behind normal human nature; learning why and how we did things, what made us who we are. How this complex little process occurring deep within your brains made up your love for each other.

“That really is.”

“Yeah. I really hope my amygdala keeps encoding the feelings I have when I’m around you,” you smiled up at him.

“I sure as fuck hope my basal ganglia doesn’t let me down someday and I forget how to make your strawberry matchas. I don’t think you’d forgive me.”

“It’s okay, because if my neocortex somehow loses the information, I won’t remember it even happened,” you giggled. “And how did you know that?”

“I know you. You think I don’t read your notes and your essays? It’s so interesting, especially seeing it all from your eyes and reading all of your raw thoughts.” he replied casually, although his cheeks tinged pink. “I hope that’s not like, an invasion of your privacy. But whenever I see your notebooks out with all your little diagrams and comments, I just want to see what’s going on in your head. And know what you’re talking about half the time.”

You squealed and stood up, shifting yourself onto his lap and pressing your forehead to his. “Kim Seungmin, you are the love of my life.”

“Even when your hippocampus starts to deteriorate with age and you forget our old memories together?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

“Even when,” you confirmed. “Although I hope it never does.”

“Me neither.”

You brought your lips to his.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @zelinkcrossing @velvetmoonlght - send an ask to be added :)

[kisses4kaia]

can you do one where y/n and charlie are friends and he wants to know how to eat someone out so she teaches him (they end up fuckign))

im so high but happy 4/20 to those who celebrate ☀! fem! reader 17+ nsfw . also unprotected sex is mentioned in this, don't do this ! (btw, title has nothing to do w fic i just really love blue banisters🎃) 🕯️

living legend🪶- c, walker ,,

a yawn exerted your throat as you sat on your best friend's couch, a binder full of homework sat neatly in your lap.

"char? c'mere, i don't get this one," you called out to your friend and furrowed your eyebrows.

charlie quickly sat down next to you, staring at the page. "this one?" he pointed towards the question. you offered a small nod of verification.

as the gears turned in his head, trying to figure out the equation, you stared at the deeply concentrated look on his face.

"i got it. it's 13," he broke you out of your trance when he looked at you with a smile. "thanks, char." you gleamed at him.

his eyes flashed to your lips for a split second, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "o-oh, yeah. um, of course. any time," he gulped and looked away from your face.

"...charlie? what is it?" you could read him like a book, he obviously wanted to ask you something.

"n-nothing! nothing at all!" he defended.

you just continued to glare at him with a knowing look adorning your features.

"fine. i just... wanted to ask you something," he looked down at his hands. "yeah? what's up?" you were curious now.

"promise not to laugh?" he stared at you seriously. you put on your best, fake, solemn, face. "cross my heart," you joked.

he scoffed. "well, uh... i was just wondering if you could maybe teach me how to," there was something else at the end of the sentence, but he was so quiet, you couldn't make it out.

"speak up, charlie." you demanded. a deep breath.

"could you teach me how to give head?" he was much louder and faster with his tone this time.

your eyes widened. he kept his head down, not daring to see the expression on your face. a few moments of silent tension lingered in the air.

you broke through it. "i mean... of course. but, like... why me?" you asked purely out of curiosity.

his head snapped up. "wait, really? well, uh, i mean, there's nobody i trust more than you and i just figured you'd be the best teacher... i guess," his cheeks were now turning vermillion.

"homework can wait, i think." you set the binder on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm, yes." he nodded quickly.

"well, uh, foreplay is really important," you nodded, pulling him closer to you. you took his hands into yours and placed them at the tops of your thighs.

he was frozen, terrified to make any movement. you took account of this and used your hands to run his up and down your thighs. "relax," you whispered.

he nodded abruptly. "yeah, yeah. sorry," he shook his head as if to rid his head of every thought.

you smiled. he was fucking adorable. "i'm gonna kiss you, that ok?" you asked, pushing hair behind his ear. "yes, please," he shied.

you leaned in carefully and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. the kiss was heightened as he pushed you onto your back, not disconnecting his lips from yours once.

his hands explored under your shirt, and you were tired of the restricted material, so you threw it off. he removed his lips from yours to simply stare.

"char? everything okay?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "you're gorgeous." was the only thing he said. you felt your cheeks get warmer as his eyes burned holes into your skin.

his hands found the rim of your pants and his fingers danced around the hem. "go ahead, love." you allowed. he looked up at your face for confirmation and you nodded.

he slipped the trousers down your legs, along with your underwear.

"okay, lay in between my legs," he lowered his face in front of your core, taking in the scent and energy.

"go ahead and try something, i'll let you know what feels good, m'kay?" you began to play with his hair. he nodded and locked his eyes onto your face, ready to absorb anything and everything you gave him.

he licked a line up your slit as he took in the delectable taste. god, he could spend the rest of his life here.

a sigh escaped your lips. it's been a minute.

charlie suctioned his lips onto your clit and used his tongue to circle around it. your fingers tightened their grip on his hair.

this caused a hum to vibrate against you. "fuck, you're doing so good," you praised.

the muscle swirled around your folds and tried everything he'd seen in porn on you, and you let him know what he should continue and what he should cut out.

at one point, his tongue dipped deeply into you, causing your back to arch off of the couch.

he ate out you out like there was no tomorrow until you stopped him.

"wait, char. stop," he pulled away immediately and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"sorry, did i do something wrong?" you shook your head. "no, um... i just want you.. inside me?" you asked, closing your legs, feeling shy.

"are you serious?" his eyes widened. "only if you want to-" he cut you off. "are you kidding? i've dreamed about fucking you for literal years," he quietly admitted. it made your heart flutter.

his clothes were all over the place in no time. "have you ever done this before?" you asked him. "no," his voice was soft and almost embarrassed. "hey, look at me." you allowed him to sit back on the couch.

you moved to straddle him. "let me take care of you, hm?" you looked down at him.

he could've cried.

instead, he nodded. you lined his tip up with your entrance. "ready?" you needed one final assurance. "mhm,"

he was big, no doubt about it. he stretched you out beyond belief as you sank down on him.

the sound that elicited him almost made you cum right there. you allowed both of you to adjust before moving.

when you did, he couldn't help but let his head fall into the crook of your neck. you were so warm, so tight around him. he whimpered and whined into you as you grinded and bounced and clenched around him.

"f-fuck, mommy, you feel so good around me," he whined.

the moan you let out at the name was straight out of a porno. you sped up your pace as you attacked his neck and collarbone with hickeys. you were fully aware robbie, kirby, and jill would see them tomorrow. you couldn't care less.

"t's too much, momma! fuck, slow- slow down," his hands glued onto your hips as tears began forming in his eyes.

"you can take it, right? you can be my good boy and take it for just a little longer, can't you?" you wiped the droplets that cascaded down his cheeks.

he nodded. it was all he wanted, to be good for you. "yeah, i can take it. all for you," he said closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel the ecstasy of your cunt around his cock.

"i'm gonna cum, pretty boy. you wanna cum with me? can you do that for me?" you were breathless in your ask. "please," he whimpered.

only a few swift movements of your hips later, your release was staring you dead in your face, along with charlie's. "now, doll." you whispered in his ear and he let out a strained moan and he let out his load inside of you as you came around his dick.

"oh my god, y/n." he chuckled into the sweat-coated area of your shoulder. you couldn't do anything but chuckle back until you both burst into laughter.

taglist; @themostintellectualblonde @dreamtofus @wannabe-indie-sleaze

[hunny-bean]

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

Read on AO3

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'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[raisoramizu]

Hazbin Hotel Fanfic - New Order

As promised, I'm starting to publish the third part of my NSFW saga, Hell's Flavour, titled New Order (the first part is a Guitarspear fic, which you can find on my AO3).

This story is a Radioapple – Radiostatic and Radiostaticapple (yep, you read that right vv).

⚠️ Content Warning: This story contains NSFW chapters and Non-Con situations.

For those who haven't read the previous part, Heaven is Not Forever, you can find the chapters on my Tumblr: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

Remember, you can also follow my fanfics on AO3! I'm currently working on a Radiostatic story "Electromagnetic Interference" inspired by the amazing comic by The_Mad_Oryx (you can find their work on both X and Bluesky). And I SWEARRRR I'll start writing the Radioapple fic for Luciangstweek2025 soon. It'll be posted here and on my AO3 simultaneously.

If you'd like, feel free to follow me on Bluesky: Raisoramizu – for real-time updates on my creations vv.

Happy reading! .................. Intro - Old Obsessions

VoxTek: a towering skyscraper with a circular design, dominating the West section of Pentagram City with its psychedelic red and blue neon signs glowing day and night. Located in the media, social, and porn business district, this was where all the city's major TV studios resided.

It was another hellish afternoon, filled with work for the CEO of the company, the TV Demon. Vox moved through the ground floor of one of the modern corridors, the blue hues of the decor reflecting on his figure, making him appear ageless. His face was a television screen, topped with a small cap from which two antennas protruded. He wore a blue pinstripe suit, perfectly showcasing the vest underneath, along with a shirt and a red bow tie. The Wi-Fi symbol, which also adorned the wallpaper of this lavish and stylish space, was the final touch.

With his elbows bent and his hands clasped behind his back at waist level, Vox moved forward, followed closely by a nervous employee—a pathetic-looking sinner with large glasses and a tablet in hand, reading off a list.

"...a few days before the incident, some of our external panoramic cameras caught Alastor on his balcony, bound by the chain of a pact, which pulled him away, making him disappear."

"...and were you able to focus on the figure that appeared in Adam's room?"

At this question, the employee raised his head nervously toward the back of the TV Demon. "N-no, Mr. Vox. The cameras' angles weren't ideal, and as you know, Alastor's presence creates constant interference with our devices, b-but—" His voice raised slightly, as if anticipating a dangerous, sudden reaction. "...the purple shades of the ghostly fire and the feminine silhouette made us think of only one person..." He swallowed hard. "It's... it's just a guess, though."

Vox suddenly stopped walking, keeping his hands clasped behind him. He rotated his screen face, narrowing his eyes at the shorter figure of the employee. "...Who?"

The employee swallowed again. "Th-the Queen, Sir."

The demon jolted at the revelation, the antennas on his head briefly sparking with electricity. "Lilith...?"

"Yes, and given that Adam tried to kill Alastor, yet the members of the hotel, including Lucifer, don't seem to have any issues with him, it's clear they know he was under someone's influence."

"...Including Lucifer? Why would he care if Adam kills Alastor?"

"...Because, Sir, Alastor spends most of his time with the Sovereign... even in his private chambers. Otherwise, he locks himself in his room or the Radio Tower, where we have no cameras. Lately, his podcast has only been broadcasting 1930s music, and we haven't seen him leave the hotel."

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Vox unclasped his hands and fully turned toward the employee. "Fine. Send me today's updated schedule via email."

Before the other could nod, the Overlord transformed into a bolt of lightning, vanishing into the building's electrical system, disappearing from the hallway

....

The lightning bolt appeared inside the Control Room, instantly reforming into Vox's figure in front of the various screens. He took a step forward, gripping the back of the swivel chair so tightly with his blue claws that they dug deep into the black leather. His screen face displayed an aggressive, drooling expression.

His right eye flickered with static as cables from his body connected to the USB ports on his neck, powering up the numerous screens filling the circular room. Images of every common area inside the hotel began to flicker across the monitors—external views of the building, and its residents engaging in everyday activities, even preparing for the upcoming interview.

And Alastor? He was walking down the hallway toward the Radio Tower after parting ways with Lucifer, who had gone in the opposite direction. The interference from Alastor's presence caused minor glitches on the screen, but Vox's gaze was locked on him, a distorted growl rising in his throat, his grip on the chair tightening, sending electric shocks crackling through it. Damn Radio Demon. Had he made a pact with Lucifer? And what did Lilith have to do with all this? She'd seemingly vanished eight years ago, and now she was back at the hotel, but hidden from the rest of the damned souls. Vox hated not knowing something, hated not having control. He despised how Alastor had reappeared out of nowhere after so long and continued living his life as if nothing had happened, as if Vox wasn't even there... But I'm here, Alastor, and I'm watching you; every day, every night, wherever my eyes don't yet reach, they will. And time was running out. Every day was another step the Radio Demon climbed, a step closer to putting Vox's objectives at risk. You won't go any further. I'll break you with my own hands.

"With Lucifer, huh...?" Vox growled. "Could you really have pulled it off?" He paused. "There has to be something... some crack I can slip through... and this time, I won't wait any longer... I'll be the one enjoying my status quo, Alastor."

[seishiroh]

“THREE KNOTS.” / itoshi sae x f!reader.

— sfw. angst. non-established relationship. long distance lovers. pining. fluff. mentioned rin itoshi (not too canon compliant vague state of their relationship.) insecurity. some jealous undertones. misunderstandings. no real comfort.

— not proofread. might be a bit too wordy. also some chance of ooc-ness cause, idk, i tried though. :] ending might've sounded a bit rushed but i was trying to do something and it was not... doing anything. loosely inspired of NIKI's Autumn.

it's a tempestuous relationship—whatever you have with itoshi sae. but he's all you've ever known. whatever love is, it's defined by him.

you met him only three years ago. when he flew to japan to renew his passport only to stay because of blue lock—and whenever you think about it, it's almost like it was meant to be—you and sae.

the meeting him, the wanting him, the wanting you.

you're not sure what it is about him and what it is he saw in you that kept you together then. but his nights were yours. you'd trace your name against his exposed skin and you know he can tell, because you can feel him tense up whenever you do it.

he never stopped you then.

and you wonder which reaction was the most real from sae: the way he'd tense up as you traced your name or that he never told you to stop.

like you could.

like you had him.

you were both only eighteen; it's the first love you've ever known—maybe it's the only love you'll ever come to know.

but sae itoshi's reality is far from yours. so, so far from yours. that's why you're gripping his hand in yours like you'd fall from the earth or float away from it if you let go.

sae doesn't tell you this, not when he needs to board his plane with only a few minutes left, but he almost wishes he could stay with you.

play house, play lovers.

maybe he won't be itoshi sae, and you won't be y/n, but he'd love you the same.

you've gotten only barely a year of you and sae, but at the airport, you hold out your heart—soft and beating fast.

"i love you," you whisper against the pulse right under his ear, like if his heart could hear it, then maybe he won't have to go.

he hears you loud and clear. only because the language of your love is something he could recognize from a mile away.

sae itoshi is only barely nineteen. and i love you are foreign words even if he means to say them.

his thumb brushes against your bottom lip. it's gentle, along with his gaze, trained on the movement.

sometimes you wonder what goes through his mind whenever he does this, just right before he tilts your chin up, teal eyes meeting yours. you're also unsure what it is about sae's eyes that makes them look so piercing; you only ever see it when he's looking right at you.

he leans in, eyes flickering from yours down to your lips, then he brushes his lips against yours—it's barely there—like he's testing it like he hasn't done this a million couple times before.

then he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth, butterfly kisses, fleeting then coming back for more.

only then—does he really kisses you. he kisses you like it's enough to make up for the words he's not saying.

"i'll come back," he says in between kisses; even at that, he can feel the smile on your lips. it's just a promise, but you smile like you trust him—like you genuinely believed it, like you'd hold him to it even if it took a decade.

"i'll call you when the plane lands," he adds.(because it's the best he could say.)

"it'll be midnight here," you reply, while still gripping on his unzipped tracksuit, your other hand against his chest—because he could keep the words to himself, but you figured the wild thumping of his heart couldn't lie, couldn't ever keep a secret.

"you'll answer," he tells you.

and he's right. he always is.

and one day, you'd wish all of these stolen moments with him were enough. only because they had to have been, only because itoshi sae knew little else outside football, but he knew you.

sae thinks you're quite easy to read from the get-go, but in the months you've spent together, sae has learned you. as though you mattered that much.

you were only barely nineteen. you think you might've shot to the stars when you dreamt about sae itoshi not leaving you or maybe keeping you.

"sae-chan!" his manager yells from a distance, "we have to get in now!"

it's barely there, but you can feel the way he sighs. when sae lets you go and walks away, he doesn't turn back, doesn't wave, doesn't glance to see if you're walking away too.

he doesn't look out the window once he's seated inside the plane; he doesn't watch the view of japan fade away.

but at one thirty-six am, your phone is ringing.

you pick up at the first ring—because you haven't slept, subconsciously waiting for his call.

his voice filters in first, too monotonous for the words he's saying, "i should've asked you to come."

you laugh. only because you know he doesn't mean it, not really.

you miss him already, though. so you allow his little lie. besides, maybe it's not a complete lie. perhaps he really thinks so, but even if he did, he'd never allow it.

unlike you, allowing his calls at midnight to talk about the day and whisper empty promises for the next few months.

"after soccer," he says silently, "we can stay together."

his voice is warmer through the phone, mostly from his exhaustion than anything, but you think it must mean something at least—that it's always you on the other end of the line whenever he comes home, it's always you on the receiving end of his smile through the screen, always you that you see him texting after his team wins a match.

"after soccer," you echo him with a laugh, "i don't think there's an after soccer for you, sae."

your tone isn't malicious when you tell him this, and he's not sure what comes first—that he knows he's hurting you or that he loves you more for understanding.

"i'll figure it out," he answers you, completely serious. he says he will like he could do it all on his own.

"i'll figure it out with you," you say. "i'm right here with you, sae," and you tell him because you think he needs the reminder.

it's odd, you hope you're not wrong, but you can feel sae smiling through the phone in the silence.

when you whisper these promises to each other, promises that are as empty as they are pretty—you think it must mean something.

sae only wanted things that pushed him towards his goals but then there was you... and for a while, you thought you belonged there.

it must mean something, that there was you—running and trying so hard to catch up to his dreams because he wanted you there. running eastward to the warmth that sae had reserved only for you.

but if you were more honest with yourself, there is nothing between you and sae.

sometimes, when sae is gone from you and far into his own world, you think perhaps you might've truly been delusional to think you ever had a shot at calling him yours.

that's why when he gets involved in a dating scandal—with someone who's not you—you have to pretend everything is fine. you think it shouldn't be much of a challenge to do so, since no one even knows about you and sae.

as for sae, you wait for his calls, but for the next few weeks, they never come.

still, you try to think maybe it's your fault. you haven't reached out since then, but he hasn't either; you're stuck with nothing but a promise that you're starting to doubt ever even existed.

you know you love him, and you'd like to think that somewhere in his heart, sae loved you too.

except it's not enough to keep you from doubting otherwise until itoshi rin comes knocking on your door, plane ticket in hand, like whatever you had with sae hadn't ended when you stopped talking to him weeks ago.

but sae's little brother is there, telling you to come to sae because his brother's not doing well without you.

you're not sure what it means because sae seems to have been doing just fine when you saw his recent game—especially when you saw a picture of him leaving a building with the rumored girlfriend.

that's why you're shaking your head at rin, who's still standing by your front door. at rin, who's sighing and finally relenting.

"i don't care what you do, i'm just here to give this," he tells you (and you can't help but pick up on the way he speaks like sae) but he reaches out and takes your hand, leaving you the plane ticket and walking away without so much as a goodbye.

the flight isn't til three more days.

you stare at it, laid on the palm of your hand, and somehow you feel like crying. sighing, you close your door and leave the plane ticket on your coffee table.

maybe the universe would do you a favor and let the wind take care of it, fly out the window or fall somewhere you couldn't find.

the next morning, it's still there.

when you come home, it's still there. you consider ripping it, hoping you won't let yourself stumble over and stupidly back into sae's arms somehow.

but when the night comes and there's a gaping hole in your chest where sae resides, you miss him so much you think you'd die—your resolve breaks. you think about texting him because that's the easiest part, but the curtains of your window sway forward at the wind, and it makes you think of sae and the way it's the first thing he does when he wakes up, opening the window and letting the air in, and how it would be so lovely to see him do it when you're there.

there's a plane ticket taunting you.

you figure flying all the way to spain for sae is crazy but if it meant seeing his face, hearing his voice—if it meant you'd have the chance to keep him in any way he'd allow, perhaps it'd be worth it.

rin sends you a message just as you're boarding the plane the next day; it's an address to an apartment in spain and instructions to contact sae's manager once you land.

you follow it all—heart over head until he's right in front of you, lithe fingers curling over the handle of your luggage and rolling it inside his apartment—where all his windows are open, all wind and sunlight pouring in.

"rin said you didn't wanna come," he speaks up, turning to look at you awkwardly standing by the door.

"i didn't—" you try to say, but it feels like a lie, "but i missed you more."

sae walks up to you, his hands tucked inside his jacket and his stare that never really gives away how he feels.

"why not?"

you give him a shrug. "is there someone else, sae?" you ask, so blunt and earnest that his lips twitch in a smile.

sae reaches out, holds onto your hips, "you've got a good brain in there. use it," he replies, lets your question fall back to you, "is there, y/n?"

you frown at him like you're a child telling him he's being unfair. "there might," you pause, "but then i'd have to leave," but your hands moving to his chest doesn't make it convincing.

his heart jumps at your touch, it beats steadily. it's a rhythm only you're privy to.

"...there isn't," he says finally, eyebrows furrowing. "you're with me."

you smile because you believe him, "you stopped calling, though?"

"you were upset," he quips.

you nod, point taken. "and you let me be upset at you, itoshi sae? just like that? and let me think maybe you don't love me after—?"

the scowl on his face is quick to form as you spoke, "shut up," he says, completely serious.

"will you say sorry?" you say instead, trying to sound teasing, but your voice is soft and it's the easiest thing in the world for sae to pick up on.

"no," he whispers, pulling you even closer.

"make it up to me?" you continue even though you know he'll shake his head, stand his ground. not scared enough to test his patience, even though maybe you should be.

you want to let up, to take it as it is. to love him with no need for anything else, but the reality of your feelings win and you're asking another question before you could stop yourself.

"am i with you, sae?"

"stupid," he mutters. "i love only you."

right there, in his hold and the sunlight hitting him just right, you find yourself in itoshi sae's apartment for the first time, finally offering you his affections.

perhaps the world can have him every other way, but him just like this, you get to have all for yourself. in the way he pulls you in, presses kisses to your skin. in the way he comes through the door and searches for you in the room, and he smells so good and feels so safe for no reason at all.

while you're there, still unknown to the world, your hands are intertwined beneath the tables when he takes you out, it feels just enough.

in the mornings, you wake up early with him. it's contagious—he's contagious. his habits and idiosyncrasies. when you're brushing your teeth, he's carelessly littering kisses on your neck until you're scolding him about how you can't move. he gives your hips a pat—once, twice—peers at you through the mirror, then he's off.

sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to be able to call him yours. say he's your boyfriend, mean something more.

you think about how nice it would be if you could stay here with him. play house, play lovers.

and no one had to know, because he was enough.

but when sae's stopped for a post match interview and they're asking about her—the girl in the pictures—you wonder if you're enough. because sae stops only for a moment, then he’s sneering at them to fuck off.

under the sheets and a few hours left before you fly back to japan, sae's room is dim in the night. you tug on the necklace he keeps on all the time, bodies pressed together in a bed only fit for him.

he hums, eyes sewn shut still.

"are you only ever with me, sae?"

there's a beat of silence. sae knows exactly what you're talking about, but he's almost sure nothing he could say will never stop you from wondering what if.

so he doesn't try to dispel it, but at least he pulls you in and presses a kiss on top of your head.

he offers you a whisper of yes, and that's all you get.

you're not sure why sae is risking this, when the media always has their eyes on him, but he insists on bringing you to the airport.

there's a sinking feeling in your gut you can't quite shrug off. but sae is holding your hand, igniting your body aflame, peering over you like there's so much he wants to say.

your anxiety insists that it's nothing good. the words never come, though; just sae hooking a finger around one of the belt loops of your jeans to pull you in.

he tugs one, two, three times more, securing you close to him and then he's cupping your face in his hands, kissing you like it's the last time.

all sweeter, all slower. like if he could pause the time, stay there forever, he might actually do it.

you wonder if he feels it now, the way you felt a year ago. in the airport, not really sure when you'd see each other again.

sae doesn't tell you to call him when your plane lands.

instead, he tells you to send him a message when you're home. you nod only because it feels better not to shatter this now, when he's all affection and the one who loves you most.

it's the first thing you do.

your chest is burdened with a weight that doesn't truly exist until his message comes before yours.

we're done.

you'd think that if you anticipate the pain, it would hurt less. but it doesn't, not for the quick sob that rips itself out of your chest, not for the tears that start falling before you make sense of it.

it's only a two-year run and you're barely twenty-one, but you think you'd be sae's forever.

it's a love hard-earned, hard-learned. a love letting go of you before you even stood a chance.

you tell him you're home, just like promised. right before you delete his number, because if you knew sae at all, he'd have your contacts deleted soon enough—if you're optimistic, maybe he'd do it more for him than you.

and miles away, you're right. while you grieve the love you'd always want, sae makes sure he won't crumble from thinking what if.

this is the choice he made for your sake, for his. he could only hope to god if he could finally keep you close to his chest, that you would still let him.

it's a terrible fate, though.

sae could only come back when the chance no longer exists.

[batgirlsay]

Unspeakable Love

A Playlist for Obiyuki Do-Si-Do 2023 by @snowwhite-andtheknight

This playlist went through many edits over the year as I discovered new bands (The Beths) and remembered old ones (Mae) but the theme of hiding feelings stayed consistent. The title lyric comes from "The Maze," and I’ve been waiting all year to share these perfect Obiyuki songs! Also looking forward to reading the final companion piece by @jhalya!

Unspeakable Love

Knees Deep- The Beths My Answer- The Natural Lines The Maze- Manchester Orchestra A Scene That Will Never Die- The Natural Lines Giving It Away- Mae Do You Want Me Now- The Beths Alex Bell- The Natural Lines Telepath- Manchester Orchestra True Blue- Boygenius

Summary lyrics are posted under the cut:

Knees Deep- The Beths

Watching light through water I want to bend the way it bends You slice like a knife through the surface But what a thrill to see it mend With no scar, no memory I'm envious, why pretend I'm not

Wading in up to the ankles The cold speaks straight to my bones Whole body and soul hesitation I am a coward turned to stone I stay there for centuries So all of history knows about it

The shame, I wish that I was Bravе enough to dive in But I nevеr have been and never will be I'm coming in hot then freezing completely

The shame, I wish that I could Say what I've been thinking But I never have done and never will do Still only knees deep, I'll never be brave like you

My Answer- The Natural Lines

My answer to the night is maybe A little danger on the side of a mountain

The flame lit face reveals what’s obvious

We will be strange We will be perfectly out of place

Maybe we’ll lock eyes Maybe we’ll meet Nothing has to happen Creatures inconceivable

The Maze- Manchester Orchestra

I notice you when you're noticing me Breaking the habit, you're watching me sleep, oh Give me some time, let me learn how to speak I'm a maze to you

First of a thousand to write on the wall It's only beginning, it's swallowing us Somebody said it's unspeakable love It's amazing You lift that burden off of me

A Scene That Will Never Die- The Natural Lines

Starting at the summer’s end When the nights get loud

We were searching for the words The lines that don’t feel like they’ve ever been said before

Sometimes we lose it Sometimes we don’t end where we meet

The ghosts keep flying overhead Changes are permanent Because the chemistry connects Because you sit in the passenger side A scene that will never die

Sometimes we lose it Sometimes we don’t land where we mean

Giving It Away- Mae

By the way you brought me here It makes me believe that the best is yet to come and I don't want to leave

Forgive my hesitation but I'm learning to trust in you Help me to dream these dreams because I don't have a clue

If you'd be honest and say what you mean You know I would promise I'd do anything Because I know that without you I'm giving it away

You've introduced me to the moment But I'm looking to stay for good

Do You Want Me Now- The Beths

Just a question that keeps me fast awake In the dead of night I'm a condemned site with light on Tell me what you decide on

Do you want me now? Or do you wanna leave it out We can talk about it I wanna tell you something but I don't know how

Being patient's never been my forte And your waiting room is hard on my esteem

Alex Bell- The Natural Lines

You were here, you always seem so far away You’ve become someone out of reach

The seasons keep me running away with myself I want to get an answer from Alex Bell tonight

I loved your laughter when life seemed impossible

No one wants to hear my silent speech I’ve become someone out of reach

Telepath- Manchester Orchestra

Told her I don't have a lot, babe, but you can have my soul Baby, do you want me? No, no, no

Everyone I know is slowly falling in the ocean I don't want to be the next to row, I never learned to swim Baby, do you love me? No, no, no

In my mind, you are the road I chose to travel Might as well have been the very last thing I decide Half the time I'm lost, afraid that you're just borrowed It don't matter much to me, man, I'm not afraid to die You're the one I wanted, want now, want when I am old When I'm falling

True Blue- Boygenius

You say you're a winter bitch, but summer's in your blood You can't help but become the sun

When you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out When you called me from the train, water freezing in your eyes You were happy and I wasn't surprised

You already hurt my feelings three times In the way only you could

But it feels good to be known so well I can't hide from you like I hide from myself I remember who I am when I'm with you Your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

[angels-gen]

-Discovering The Mesh-

A knock sounded sounded on the door, breaking my attention from a floating screen; I looked up and noticed Titanic walking up to me with her arms crossed.

"You know we're supposed to be asleep right?" She asked as I swiped away a screen as it floated up top. "I know, I'm just busy checking on everyone else is all. I'll be back to our room, I promise." I said as I looked over at another floating screen, she sighed as she leaned on my desk.

"Fine, but why do you need to check up on anyone anyway?" She said as she looked at a floating screen I had swiped away, watching another Titanic smiling through the screen. "It's not like something bad is gonna happen, you know?" I scoffed, "that's what you think; it's not always the case to be honest." She giggled as she looked over at another timeline and universe.

"What's this?" I looked over at Titanic, my face paled as I realised the universe she was looking at. "Don't touch that." She jumped, a bit taken back as she'd never seen me react this way. "Sorry… it's just… that universe… that timeline…" she knelt down, holding my hand. "Hey… I'm just curious that's all, but why the sudden reaction? You know you can tell me, we're twins." I looked into her ice blue eyes, the same colour as mine. "Olympic, please tell me…" I sighed, "I-i… I don't k-know… it's just like that… I'm not sure what even happened in that timeline…" I said, my eyes cast downwards. Usually I'd have an answer, but for this I don't know. Titanic stood up before pulling me into a tight hug, "well whatever it is, we definitely shouldn't be telling Britannic about this." I nodded as hugged back; she let go as she walked over to the door.

"I'm gonna go tell Britannic you'd be back soon. Don't stay up too late~" I chuckled as she left, before turning my attention to the floating screen Titanic was looking at. Unlike all the other screens, this one glowed red and at the bottom it read 'UNIVERSE 01'. I furrowed my brows; Universe 01? What does that mean? Usually it says the name of the universe not the number. I shook my head as walked over to the door, I don't think the Olympic in that timeline knows she's been infected; but by what exactly?

I sighed, walking out the door and locking it before I left. Whatever that thing is that's on my ship in that universe, in that timeline. Needs to be investigated. Immediately.

~

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting from a nightmare again. While Titanic's sinking has now been debunked, I'm now plagued with much newer ones. Ones that are more gruesome and terrifying. I feel powerless against these nightmares; usually Titanic helps me with them but these are too horrific for her too see.

I looked out the window, the moonlight shining through the curtains. I sighed and got up, about to walk to the door when I suddenly collapsed, my energy drained almost to the max. I looked over at Titanic to see her staring at me from her bed; I looked away as I tried to get up again. But failed miserably, my eyes getting a little heavier with each passing second. I felt myself be picked up off the floor before being violently shaken by my sister.

'Are you insane!?' My head rang with Titanic's voice in it. I glared at her sleepily 'why are you still up?' 'I heard you wake up from a nightmare.' I winced at the thought of the nightmare. 'I'm fine…' I thought looking away; Titanic grabbed my face and made me look her dead in the eyes 'no. You're not.' Her ice blue eyes more piercing than usual; I sighed as she let my face go. I looked over at Britannic, who's passed out, deep in slumber before sighing and motioning Titanic to follow me.

"Why are we going back to the room? Also what have you been dreaming about? Why aren't you telling me anything right now—" "shhh." I covered Titanic's mouth as I heard footsteps pass by; I let out a sigh of relief as I let go of my sister. "Why are you so on edge? You own that room and only you and I can access it, why are you acting like it's illegal to go there?" I grabbed Titanic's hand as we quickly went in the room, the blue glow and slight hum of the many screens floating above filled the sparsely decorated room.

I sat at my desk, going through each and every single universe and timeline to make sure everything was alright. Before turning my attention to the glowing red screen floating a little off the side, away from all the blue.

I looked through the timeline of the universe; nothing seems to be adding up. Titanic watched as the timeline played out, growing more and more confused with every passing memory being played out.

"W-why's this d…different…?" Titanic asked, her voice giving away how scared she was. "I don't know… but something's not right with this universe." She nodded in agreement, leaning against my chair as we watched Britannic exploding. She winced, watching our sister take mere seconds to go under. "T-this is way too different… normally all the timelines are the same as the original, but this… I'm alive and you're alive. But Britannic… oh, our sister…" I nodded as sighed in disbelief. "I need to investigate this further." A chuckle escaped Titanic, a sound so sickly sweet and melodious "so what? You're gonna go to that timeline alone or something?" I bit my lip, I thought of it; but in doing so it means that I'm leaving my sisters behind. Not to mention my own girlfriend would be worried as fuck. "In a universe like this it'd be best for just one person to go—" "you're insane if you think I'm letting you leave us behind!" I kept quiet, I know she knows I've been thinking about it. "Look, it's just that it looks too dangerous for all of us to go there." "And you think I don't know that? I've been following you throughout your whole life. Your whole career. Watching you, wishing we'd see eachother again. And we did, we finally did! But now you're just gonna throw all that away just because of some timeline that's fucked up!?" Tears streamed down Titanic's face as she sniffled, as much as I hate to admit. My sister was right. We'd been waiting for too long to see eachother; but this timeline is off. It feels dangerous.

"This timeline feels like it has a parasite, and I want to investigate what it does…" I said as I wiped my sister's tears away. "Like Host and Parasite?" I nodded "almost, but this feels different… it feels dangerous…" Titanic shivered, feeling a little bit frightened by what that could mean. "You mean this parasite is different from Parasite…?" I nodded, as we both stared at the screen, watching a flesh eating blob consume someone.

"Only thing we can do is just watch for now…"

-

Well this took a while—

[enha-hype]

♪ song series ♪

hi! this is the second instalment in a series of oneshots i will be writing based on/inspired by a certain song. (note : in this particular fic there's another song featured) i recommend listening to the song(s) once before you read it <3

#2 summer love (song 1 | song 2)

pairing : lee felix x gn reader (established relationship)

genre : songfic, angstttt, pining, fluff if you squint, not a happy ending i'm afraid

warnings : none that i can think of, it's just sad ig. but if there's something you'd like me to add, lmk <3

w.c. : 1.7k

disclaimer : this is purely a work of fiction made for entertainment purposes only!

masterlist

← #1

22 hours left

You watch Felix as he goes around the kitchen getting the ingredients for the batter ready. You try to etch it all into your memory - his little nose scrunches, the way the sunlight streaming in through the window highlights his beautiful freckles, the shape of his lips… Sigh. Pictures never do him justice. And even if they did, what would be the point? You have to leave tomorrow and nothing could change that, or the grief that’s bound to follow.

Ugh, screw all those stupid romcoms and their happy couples and unrealistic endings! You wish it were as easy as they made it out to be, where one of them just quits their job and leaves home and everyone and everything they know basically, to move halfway across the world and be with the love of their life like it’s no big deal, like it’s the most practical decision ever, and of course they’re all loaded enough to be able to afford it. Stupid. Ridiculous. Know what’s even more ridiculous? The fact that you two had fallen so hopelessly in love over the span of just two months, knowing full well this relationship could have no future. Stupid stupid stupid. If the universe was so intent on handing you the cliché fall in love on vacation trope, why not give you the romcom ending as well? Why torture you like this?

Felix meets your gaze and smiles, though there's something sad about it. “Don’t do that please,”

“Do what?” you feign ignorance and blink innocently, which earns a proper smile from him this time. It tugs at your heart.

“You know what. Watch me with that forlorn look in your eyes. It makes me wanna bear hug you and never let go,” he says as he walks over and does just that.

Your lips curve up into a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lix. You’ll come up with any excuse to touch me,”

“Well if you don't like it–” he starts to pull away.

“Nooo I didn't say that,” you pull his arms back around you and you both laugh. Which is followed by a heavy silence that settles in the nooks and crannies of the room, somehow making the morning not so bright anymore. You're both joking around and dodging questions and being flippant because not doing that would mean having a serious conversation. Not doing that would mean confronting reality and having to say your goodbyes and you promised each other not to be all blue and gloomy on your last day together. You both know the other is also thinking about this, and how not talking about it is just making things weird.

Felix clears his throat, unwrapping his arms from around you. “I should get back to the pancakes. Don't wanna burn them like last time,”

“Right, haha,” you resist the urge to reach out and have him lock his arms around you again, trying to ignore how cold you suddenly feel.

You hate how painfully awkward you've become over the past few days – walking on eggshells and not being able to say what you're really thinking half the time, swallowing feelings and stopping mid-sentence.

Fifteen minutes later you're sitting at the table and Felix sets down a plate in front of you : choco chip waffles with chocolate syrup, whipped cream and ice cream. You gape at him. He’s indulging your sweet tooth way too much.

“You're trying to make me diabetic!” you complain, but give him a peck on his cheek.

“Only for today,” he chuckles and then bites his lip, realising he probably should’ve worded that better.

Only for today. Right. Because from tomorrow he won't even be able to see you, much less make you your favourite breakfast. And you're just supposed to go back to your old life and move on after….all this. After Felix. Totally easy. Totally–

“Hey you wanna watch a movie after?” he interrupts, sensing you going down a spiral. “And then go to the beach?”

You smile at his mention of the beach – it was where you first met. Where it all started. Where you’d spent most of your days together over the past two months. Playing silly games, learning how to surf. Lazy afternoons and late nights. Early morning walks along the shoreline to catch the sunrise. The first kiss you shared on one such walk. It all seems to have gone by in a blur.

17 hours left

You ended up not going to the beach.

You had put on a comedy movie but neither of you laughed much - not because the movie wasn’t funny, but because you just couldn’t bring yourselves to focus. Felix ended up dozing off halfway through, his head nuzzled on your shoulder. You watched the rest of the movie on mute, careful not to move or make a noise so you wouldn’t wake him. He woke up cursing about half an hour later, mad at himself for falling asleep and wasting what little time you have left together. You assured him it was fine, that you were happy just having him by your side. He complained that he wasn’t happy about having spent the half hour unconscious, especially when you were right next to him.

“You’re so cute when you’re sulky,” you’d said, smothering him with kisses. Then he started kissing you back, and uh, let’s just say that the two of you got a little carried away.

12 hours left

Felix sits you down in the living room saying he has a surprise for you.

“Don’t open your eyes until it’s time!”

“How will I know it’s time if I can’t see?”

“You’ll knoww.”

You frown. For a few seconds, there’s only silence. Then you hear a chair being pulled back a few feet away. You hear him clear his throat. You gasp when you hear the piano, your eyes snapping open. A lump forms in your throat as he flashes you a smile and starts singing the first line.

“I know, you know, we know

We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

But if the world was ending

You'd come over, right?

You'd come over and you'd stay the night

Would you love me for the hell of it?

All our fears would be irrelevant

If the world was ending

You'd come over, right?

The sky'd be falling and I'd hold you tight

And there wouldn't be a reason why

We would even have to say goodbye

If the world was ending

You'd come over, right?

Right?”

There’s something about the way he whisper-sings that last ‘right?’ because suddenly it’s impossible to hold the tears back any longer or pretend nothing's wrong. You run into his arms, clutching him so tight and wonder how the hell that single word could be packed with so much hope and despair and joy and sorrow at the same time because it honestly shattered you.

You suppose it's kind of funny in a sad way, because he's hastily wiping at your cheeks asking you to please not cry but he's crying too, and maybe one day you'll both be able to look back and laugh about this, but right now dear God, you swear you could physically feel your heart break into a million little pieces.

10 hours left

You’re both lying on the couch now, secretly grateful for the cramped space that makes being so squeezed up next to each other necessary. Neither of you suggests moving to the bedroom. You feel his body rise and fall with every breath and you try to focus only on that and not think about anything else. The sun has set and a soft summer breeze blows in through the open window. You watch him absentmindedly fiddle with your intertwined fingers.

“So much for not talking about it,” you snort.

“Well who asked you to start crying and ruin it?”

You elbow him. “Who asked you to choose that stupid song?”

“Hey don’t blame the song!”

“Oh no I’m blaming you, Lee Felix,”

He jabs you in the side playfully and then kisses your cheek. You tilt your head to look at him. His eyes are puffy and the tip of his nose red. Your heart aches at the sight, although your own face is probably no better at the moment. With your free hand, you push back the hair from his forehead. He closes his eyes as you trace lines along his freckles like they’re constellations. “Please don't come to drop me off tomorrow,” you say quietly.

His eyes snap open. He opens his mouth like he's about to protest, then thinks better of it and purses his lips. He nods once, solemnly. He wouldn’t be able to watch you walk away, either.

“Do you regret it?” he asks, after a few minutes of silence.

“What?”

“This. Us. Meeting me.”

“You're a dumbass if you think I do,”

He smiles and the ache eases a little. “I don't either. You're worth the heartbreak,”

You try not to let the word heartbreak sink in. “I didn't know you were capable of being so cheesy,” you tease.

“It's all the excess cheese from the Tteokbokki you made for lunch,” he answers without missing a beat.

“Well you gave me diabetes, it's only fair that I give you high cholesterol,”

He laughs. “God, Y/n...”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,”

You look over at him again and you know what he meant to say. And why he didn't say it.

10 minutes

You were hoping you could leave quietly before Felix woke up like you had originally planned, but to your dismay and a bit of irritating delight, he was up even before you were. He made coffee, which you both drank at the table wordlessly. He helped with last-minute packing. Then he sat in the living room as you got ready, his expression unreadable.

Your suitcase is by the door. The taxi is waiting outside. You’ve checked and rechecked that you have your passport and other important items. You’ve avoided meeting his eyes since you woke up this morning although you stole plenty of glances when he wasn’t looking because you don’t know if you can handle what you see in them. But you can’t any longer – there’s hardly 10 minutes left before you have to walk out the door. Taking a deep breath, you make your way to where he’s standing. You hesitantly take his hand in yours – they’re cold despite the warm weather. You look up at him and– oh God. What are you even supposed to say? You don’t know and you don’t want to know, you don’t want to say anything that will make this real, you want to pretend none of this is happening. And so you just stare at him helplessly until he cups your face and presses his lips to yours and the entire world melts away for a few minutes.

You had never said your ‘I love you’s. But when you pulled back from the kiss and he looked at you with that earnestness in his watery eyes, it was as clear as day. You knew. And as you make your way to the airport, you can only pray that he knows too.

(Actual clip of Felix singing the song for extra feels)

[ur-boyfiend]

Bang The Doldrums

based on this board by @snug-gyu

-> writing stuff with happy / positive (or at least , not depressing) endings but also based on this song feels so weird lol ,,, didn't read the pete wentz livejournals for nothin. maybe i'll write some proper angst for it soon ,,, summer of like kinda content <3

also it's like 01:30 here and i'm tired but like what else is new lol. gonna see if i can write a bit more before i actually head to sleep

blue skies, forget-me-nots, winding country roads. a summer so much like the last summer you spent together, you have to force yourself not to think about it.

singing along to a playlist you made at 3am when you were lonely and in love, you continue your drive to the campsite. there was no real reason to go, he had been the one to like camping after all, but you need the catharsis more than ever.

you see the familiar gated dirt road and smile sadly, used to the feeling of missing people, but no better at dealing with it than before.

you pay the fee at the small office that sits just in front of the gates, waiting for a moment afterwards as the old metal creaks open. you thank the person working the booth and continue towards the lake near the middle of the park.

people usually gravitate towards the open area surrounding the lake and the noise filling the air is just as loud as ever, you're not planning on setting up on the lakeshore but you like the water anyway.

parking in the gravel lot you turn off your car's engine and grab the messenger bag sitting on the passenger seat next to you. you double, then triple-check that your car is locked before walking down to the lake's edge and sitting on the grass.

the messenger bag previously slung over your shoulder is now slumped on the ground next to you, and you grab the worn notebook and overfilled pencil case from the main pocket, flipping to a half-finished sketch you'd started the day before.

you're quickly lost in your work, focusing on the scratching sound of your pencil on the paper and the hushing of the water in front of you. when you turn to grab a different color pencil from your bag you're surprised to see someone sitting next to you, then even more surprised when you see who it is.

you don't say anything for a moment, not entirely sure that he's real. it wouldn't be the first time you saw him when he wasn't there.

but then he smiles at you, and you think you might start crying right then and there.

"chan...?" you curse yourself for how your voice wavers, though ultimately you're a bit surprised that you can speak at all.

his smile grows a bit wider, his dimples showing through even more, "hi."

you're not sure how to respond, but before you can make up your mind he reaches up, gently brushing his hand across your cheek, "you're crying."

you hadn't noticed, reaching up to touch your face you realize he's right. you wipe at your cheeks, trying to stop the tears still slipping from your eyes.

"sorry, sorry," you can barely hear yourself speak, your voice muffled by the way you've curled in on yourself.

but apparently chan can still hear you, because he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his side.

"it's alright, you're alright. you don't need to apologize to me, remember?"

you're frozen for a moment, not expecting him to reference the promise you'd made years ago, that neither of you would apologize to each other for their emotions.

"'course, that was the first time someone told me that i could have negative emotions without having to feel bad about it." you don't mention that you thought he might've forgotten, not sure if the promise held the same importance to him as it did to you.

you feel chan go completely still for a moment, and realize belatedly that you'd never told him that before. you don't have time to regret your choice because he pulls you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head.

you relax into his touch without even thinking about it, still used to the feeling even after all the time that's passed. you push the heels of your palms into your eyes, feeling the tears drying on your face and caught in your eyelashes.

after a couple minutes of comfortable silence, you pull yourself together enough to speak again.

"i missed you."

he weaves his fingers through your hair, and you hum at the action, leaning into his hand.

"i missed you too."

there's a tinge of bitterness in the back of your throat, and you swallow hard, words briefly sticking in your throat, unwilling to taint the sweetness of the moment.

it seems like chan can tell something's changed, because his hand stills to rest on your head, and he presses a soft kiss to your scalp, mumbling an "i'm sorry" into your hair.

you shake your head slightly, refusing to let him shoulder all the blame.

"no, no i'm sorry. it was my fault too."

"i was the one who left."

"and i was the one who let you."

"still-"

you move slightly, kissing his cheek in an attempt to make him stop talking. it works, and before he can say anything else, you shake your head more firmly.

"you're not allowed to blame yourself completely, that's not fair to you. please."

he looks like he wants to say something else but after a moment he closes his mouth again and shakes his head.

"alright, alright. if you insist."

you laugh quietly, "i do."

after a brief pause he asks, "wanna set up at the same campsite?"

"yeah, yeah that'd be lovely."

chan stands up, offering you a hand. you take it and feel yourself being pulled to your feet, neither of you letting go even after you're both standing.

going back in the direction of your car, the comfortable chatter you'd missed so dearly wraps around you again, and it's like there was never any disconnect, never any time away from one another.

you'd had a last summer together, but maybe now you could have another first.

[samlgc]

what's up party people!

or at least that's what sam wants to say when he makes his "grand entrance" into lgc 🙄 anyway, i'm blue (any pronouns)! i was a member of lgc a while ago but never really got off the ground and had to quietly drop for personal reasons. i'm back now with a new muse and hopefully here to stay around a bit longer!

i remember that people used twitter a lot last time was here, so i created an account this time. it's not fully set up yet, but if you'd like to connect please give me a follow! i'll probably lock the account in a couple of days or so but please still feel free to follow req.

without any further ado, let me introduce a little more about sam under the cut!

sam's full story can be found here, but for a quick, summarized version, keep reading:

sam was orphaned at a young age due to some tragic circumstances but was adopted by his aunt, his father's sister, who was never able to have children and loved sam as if he were her own. she was always up front with him about his "real" parents, but as far as sam's concerned, she is his real mom. he grew up a bit spoiled and his aunt is very doting.

basically, sam's aunt was relocated to pleasanton, california for work and sam had no choice but to go with her. turns out he actually thrived there. he's a really outgoing guy, lacks humility or shame so he had no fear in speaking a language he wasn't very good at, and therefore got good at it quicker. it was in california that he really began to fall in love with music and his friends encouraged him to start dabbling in composition. his early stuff was atrocious and he's buried it all on an old hard drive somewhere.

around the time he was getting close to high school graduation, he started to gain an interest in kpop. unfortunately, the western music industry doesn't really have a place for asian men and sam sorta figured out he'd have a better chance of being a popular singer or something if he got himself in the kpop industry. turned out he was wise to think that, since he joined legacy in january 2020!

sam likes to think that he's the best thing since sliced bread. he's a bit full of himself, a bit cocky, but it's not totally without merit. he's a bit of a triple threat; he can sing well, he's a solid dancer, and he's pretty skilled at rap too. and he has a loud, boisterous personality that's just perfect for variety shows someday.

"but sam, if you're so good at everything, why haven't you debuted yet?" he would say that it's because he's so good that legacy can't simply add him to the existing boy groups and they're building him his own. he may be a bit delusional. gotta love his confidence, though.

despite being rather arrogant, he's a pretty nice guy! super friendly, super willing to help out a newer trainee or a peer who needs help in something he's good at. he recognizes that debut is a team effort so he's also trying to be the most liked trainee too... though he's a bit stupid so i can't promise he'll never offend anyone.

so now that we all know sam, how about some plots? :) i actually don't have very many ideas, but i'll add stuff on as i think of it!

i would LOVE a more antagonistic rivalry in sam's life. honestly, he could probably be the aggressor in the right situation. someone that just has a conflicting personality, who could fill the same role(s) in a future debut group, and sam finds to be a threat... but having a rival makes you stronger, so he's in no hurry to make amends.

not sure what his romantic history looks like exactly, but i do sorta imagine him as the type who always needs someone who dotes on him. i believe he's historically had a preference for women so he probably wouldn't have had a boyfriend, but he also really likes attention so i can see him leading someone on a bit just because they're into him. exes and flings are tentatively reserved for girls only, though. he might've been a nice bf at first but i think he's a bit emotionally selfish and even now isn't really mature enough to be in a serious relationship.

best friend, partner in crime sort of relationship? someone who lets him get away with anything and calls him out on his shit at the same time, sorta like a sibling-like best friend if that makes any sense at all. yes, it's contradictory. but they're the first to do some dumb shit with him and then tell him he was an idiot for it later.

a muse. sam likes to write music and compose, so someone he's inspired by. actually, this could be multiple people and go in a hundred different directions. someone he writes about because they're beautiful and he writes love songs with them in mind, someone who's another composer who he wants to learn from and may or may not steal ideas from, a close friend he writes songs for so they can impress the guy or girl with an original song for their confession, someone he hates so much he just has to write about it... the more the merrier!

i would also love someone to kick his ass. no i'm not joking. someone who gets so annoyed with his smart mouth and attention-seeking ways that they just deck him right in his stupid pretty face. it's honestly what he deserves.

i also just love love. romance plots are my bread and butter. i think sam's historically only dated women, but i don't know if he's totally straight. self-discovery might be nice, but he's a bit stupid so it'd have to be some damn good chemistry if it's with another boy. girls would probably have an easier time catching his attention!

again, i'm kinda short on ideas, but i'll add more to this post when i think of them! in the meantime, please drop me a like or send me a message either on tumblr or twitter and i'm looking forward to getting involved!!

[drysauce]

On my knees begging,, can I ask about your genshinsona and about any oc you are willing to share 👀🥺????? I'm very interested ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

you probably didn't expect to get a reply so soon but i'm afraid i don't have much to say about these</3

the idea for a genshinsona came to me yesterday when i was constructing a reply to your oc ask, more precisely to the part about vivi, so it's all very very fresh, there's a lot of ideas but barely anything firmly decided. but i can tell you what i have so far

does it have to be either a guy or a girl or can it be someone in between? well, regardless of that, they or he or whatever would be either snezhnayan or snezhnayan living in mondstadt since always. they would have a cryo vision, definitely red horns and a small braid hanging from one side of moderately short hair. oh and also freckles and red eyeliner because i always wanted to wear red eyeliner nshxhx. color pallete would be dark red/orange/light blue/black/white i think

and i have nothing more, i might eventually gather all the thoughts and construct a person but probably no sooner than after exams, though i can't promise that either and that's why im not keeping this ask in the inbox forever but answering it now with what i have so far

with ocs it's a bit more complicated

there used to be almost 40 ocs. now there's about 15? with the earliest ones i came up when i was 12 and they either went through a massive development or i decided to abandon them for good lol

generally none of them are well thought and constructed like yours and neither are they fandom related - all are original characters tied to, well, nothing. it was mostly that i was watching a show or listening to music or something and constructed a person in my brain that would fit a scenario, and then sticked to them

however, i unfortunately can't tell you about any of them or at least not in a public ask format because 1. the thought that all 200 of my followers could possibly read it makes me cringe so bad, 2. none of them are as well constructed as yours, they're more like a bunch of random ideas, in some instances with multiple version of backstories etc and what comes with that is that i did barely any research on the things i put in their stories and i think i should do that and 3. some of my ocs have parts of the events that happened to me personally tied to their stories and let's just say i'd prefer not to talk about it too much in a public ask. i don't want to answer it privately without an earlier notice because private answers don't have an option to leave comments under them and i don't want to lock that option for you

so. if you'd like to know about some of the ocs then i guess either dms/discord etc or another ask that i will intentionally answer privately, it's not that i dont want to tell you about them, it's that i dont want it to be fully public - ive never talked about my ocs, they've always just been in my head and i guess i got used to it being this way

the genshinsona thingies however i can totally answer in an ask but. first i'll need to have something to talk about jdhdhs so either ask again in a while or i'll just update you on it when i think of something :3

[speckledfiction]

Never Came the Day Playlist

Never Came the Day is finished! It is 136k words and I'm so proud of it! You should go read it, imo. You will have a good time.

I wanted to upload this playlist to coincide with the end of the fic, since my premise was to do a song for every chapter, but then I was Struggling with song choices. I'm still not entirely happy, but I have despaired of doing better. It does have some spoilers for the fic, so I'll put the tracklist here and then break them down under the cut, with links to each song.

The Future - Spellling

Chance - Angel Olsen

Send in the Clowns - Frank Sinatra

Ghosts - Laura Marling

The Place Where He Inserted the Blade - Black Country, New Road

Adelaide - Requin Chagrin

Sax Rohmer #1 - The Mountain Goats

Blue Bucket of Gold - Sufjan Stevens

Life During Wartime - Talking Heads/DJ

VOID - Melanie Martinez

True Faith - New Order

Heavy Seas of Love - Damon Albarn

Souvenir - Bump of Chicken

Over and Over - Beach House

Nessun Dorma - Luciano Pavarotti

Chapter 1 - The Future by Spellling

Counting memories, passing time Fighting to keep my hope alive Close my eyes and I dream of you But there's nothing that I can do 'Cause I live in the future, future Too many years apart

A truly obvious pick to start off a time loop story, but it really nicely hits the sense of displacement Astarion is feeling when he first loops. I also like it a lot as a first track. It's soft and melancholy and haunting, but not entirely hopeless. The horns add a bit of energy to the song, while Spellling's soft and delicate voice shivers over them.

If the first song sets the tone for the whole playlist, then I think this introduces several musical themes we're going to hear over and over.

Chapter 2 - Chance by Angel Olsen

I'm walking through the scenes I'm sayin' all the lines I wish I could un-see some things that gave me life I wish I could un-know some things that taught me so I wish I could believe all that's been promised me

It's hard to say forever love Forever's just so far

We're continuing with longing. Like The Future, this is a love song, which is a appropriate for a fic that is a romance, but it's a love song that's so melancholy and yearning. And I was particularly drawn to this verse that describes the sense of dissociation and loneliness so well. As Astarion struggles in chapter 2 with exactly that sense of repetition, it felt extremely appropriate to pull on a song that foregrounds loneliness and isolation.

Also, since Karlach/Durge is the secondary pairing of the fic, I really like how these lyrics also hint at Durge's memory loss and the problems that will start to occur when they do remember who they are.

Musically, there are a lot of similarities between the future and chance, but I like how Angel Olsen's more powerful voice contrasts with Spellling's delicacy, and the swapping of horns for strings suggests a more sad and lonely vibe.

Chapter 3 - Send in the clowns by Frank Sinatra

Don't you love farce? My fault, I fear I thought that you'd want what I want Sorry, my dear!

The strings carry us out and bring us back in for song three. This is the chapter where Astarion and Tav briefly connect and then become even more distant, so a song that's about missed timing in love felt deeply appropriate.

On another level, this whole song is full of ironic understatement, which is so Astarion to me. I mentioned in my music headcanon post that I think he'd be a Sondheim fan, and this is exactly why. This is the one song that I can truly imagine Astarion actually saying the lines to. And if you know the story of the song, the line one who keeps tearing around, one who can't move feels so fitting as a description of the issues Astarion and Tav have tended to have.

Chapter 4 - Ghosts by Laura Marling

Opened up his little heart Unlocked the lock that kept it dark And read a written warning Saying "I'm still mourning over ghosts Over ghosts that broke my heart before I met you" Lover, please do not fall to your knees It's not like I believe in everlasting love

I think this might be the first song that's more Durge than Astarion. They are, after all, the Haunted One. But it's very appropriate for Astarion too, really, both in the sense of being haunted by his victims from his time under Cazador, and in this fic, being haunted by his memories of his first life and the way that he struggles to develop friendships in this timeline.

Musically, we're still right in the same zone as the previous songs, keeping a strong focus on a single singer backed with strings. Which is perhaps a little dull, though I love all of these artists and I think they all bring something unique to the table. It also fits the fic, which spends its first four chapters with Astarion feeling like he can't escape repetition and sameness.

Chapter 5 - The Place Where He Inserted the Blade by Black Country, New Road

Darling, the rest of my body It's yours, then I know you're scared Well, I'm scared too Oh, that every time I try to make lunch For anyone else, in my head I end up dreaming of you

We start with piano, and then horns, very much in keeping with what we heard from the previous tracks, but I think this track does introduce new elements to the playlist. Specifically the vocals get louder and grittier and angrier than the previous songs.

Narratively, I think this song applies super literally to a lot of what happens in the chapter. Astarion and Tav make up, having realised that trying not to be in love isn't working. I love that it uses darling in the chorus, very Astarion coded. And the phrase "the place where he inserted the blade" works as a fun reference to Raphael, who shows up at the end of the chapter to ruin everything. Which also fits nicely with the slightly more energetic and frustrated-sounding lyrics.

Chapter 6 - Adelaide by Requin Chagrin

Amour déchu, froissé et tordu Passion glacée partie en fumée La nuit est remplie de débris La lune ne retient pas la pluie Je ne remarque pas le ciel

Le jour tombe si tard

(Fallen love, crumpled, twisted Freezing passion, gone up in smoke The night is full of debris The moon doesn't hold back the rain

I don't notice the sky The day arrives so late)

I love how this song almost sounds upbeat when you start listening to it, and then shifts into something shoegaze-y and intensely bleak. It's a very short song, but full of despair, which Astarion spends all of chapter 6 wallowing in.

I've tried not to lean too heavily on star/moon references in this playlist, but "the moon doesn't hold back the rain" is such a great line, and it plays into Eilistraee's lunar connections. And I have kind of leaned into some day/night references in this playlist, and here's one of them. The day arrives so late indeed. Why, it's almost the name of the fic...

Chapter 7 - Sax Rohmer #1 by the Mountain Goats

And I am coming home to you With my own blood in my mouth And I am coming home to you If it's the last thing that I do

If I was hoping for any plausible deniability that I'm not just hitting the fanmix greats with this playlist, it went out the window as soon as I put the Mountain Goats on here. But look, the classics are classics for a reason.

This is the chapter where Astarion reads Tav's diary and resolves to rescue her from Avernus, and I really wanted a song that hits the feeling of missing someone and wanting to see them again, but with an edge of violence. And I truly, truly don't know a song that pulls off that feeling better than this one.

This is also another song that really works as a Durge song. Especially for some of their later stuff (chapter 13, for example). Our horrible little Bhaalspawn is all about the blood, after all.

Chapter 8 - Blue Bucket of Gold by Sufjan Stevens

Friend, why don't you love me? Once the myth has been told The lens deforms it as lightning Raise your right hand Tell me you want me in your life

This is the Durge + Astarion song for me. They both just need each other to be a friend when they're struggling! I also like the references to myths and lightning. Appropriately fantasy bullshit for a fantasy canon. And the way that all of Sufjan's songs are infused with a deeply religious tenor is super appropriate for a fic that has a lot about faith and gods in it.

Musically, we're right back to slow and sad. This fic has a musical comfort zone, as I think you can tell. Maybe it makes the playlist feel cohesive, maybe it makes it all sound a bit samey. Who am I to say?

Chapter 9 - Life During Wartime by Talking Heads, reinterpreted by DJ Tunez

You make me shiver, I feel so tender We make a pretty good team Don't get exhausted, I'll do some driving You ought to get you some sleep

Burned all my notebooks, what good are notebooks? They won't help me survive My chest is aching, burns like a furnace The burning keeps me alive

I originally had the Talking Heads version on here, and obviously I do think that's a banger, but then I heard this cover, and I really loved its slower tempo, as well as the use of horns that links it to so many of the other tracks on this playlist.

Musically and narratively, I think this is a fun departure from the other songs. It's funky, it's smooth, it's not really about love, or at least not only. I like how this picks up on the feeling of a long campaign, which is another element of the story. I also like the way the lyrics I quoted link to the sense of connections of solidarity that Astarion has started to build at this point in the fic. And even though Astarion doesn't burn Tav's diary, I really like the lyric about notebooks, it's a fun connection. And this song, more than any of the others, is Karlach's song, since she is also such an important part of the fic.

Chapter 10 - Void by Melanie Martinez

Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow I hate who I was before I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow Someone tell me if this is Hell

The lyrics for this song are so wildly on point for the conversation Astairon and Tav have in chapter 12 that my jaw dropped when I found it. (I promise that that was after I had written and posted the chapter adkjfhajkdhf)

I originally had this as the chapter 12 song, but it's just a bit too bleak for the chapter where Tav and Astarion finally reconcile. So I thought I'd make it the soundtrack for chapter 10 instead, the chapter where these problems are on full display, even if the characters haven't voiced them yet.

Musically, this song is just a great mix of bleak and bop, and a really fun follow on from the DJ Tunez track. One of the things I love about making a story playlist is getting to find new music for it, and Melanie Martinez was a great discovery.

Chapter 11 - True Faith by New Order

I used to think that the day would never come I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun My morning sun is the drug that brings me near To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear

So, this song is not quite right. I love some of the lyrics, particularly I feel like I'm in motion, a certain sense of liberty, and I love the image of the sun rising and world changing, and being able to reclaim something you thought you'd lost. But. This is a song about getting that by taking drugs, and there is a really bleak, dark undercurrent to it when you listen closely. I've taken too much, of the things that cost you too much. Really, I think this is the song for Ascended Astarion. But I could not find anything (ANYTHING) that quite fit what I was going for. I wanted optimistic and upbeat and about rediscovering liberty and a sun metaphor, and nothing else fit. (If you know of anything, shout it out. Please.) And Ascended Astarion is also a character in this story, so eventually I just flung my hands up and left this song in.

Musically, this is as britpop as it gets, a fun twist on the very singer/songwriter heavy vibes of this playlist.

Chapter 12 - Heavy Seas of Love by Damon Albarn

Heavy seas of love, radiance is in you As above, so below on the heavy seas of love Heavy seas of love, we come together in you Counting out the new moons on the heavy seas of love

More britpop, Specks? Alas, yes. I had a loose idea of putting a Gorillaz track somewhere on this playlist, thinking vaguely of On Melancholy Hill, but this track was the one that deeply grabbed me.

There's something about the phrase heavy seas of love that really speaks to me about the weight of what it means to love someone, which is what chapter 12 is all about, and then on top of that "radiance is in you" is such a lovely description of the way that Tav and Astarion see each other. Plus, another new moon reference.

Musically, we're not leaving the zone, but I do think Brian Eno being on this song adds a little something special to it.

Chapter 13 - Souvenir by Bump of Chicken

[English translation of the lyrics:

Where did we come from, where did we go, on this journey to find each other?

I know nothing of your yesterday, or your tomorrow, on this way home

How many times have you smiled at me through the downpour?

From a world further away than the moon, I've followed you home]

From britpop to jrock. Truly the wildest swing this playlist takes, and it's to an anime opening. And not just any anime, but Spy x Family, lol. I do actually love this song, though, and I love how hopeful this song is. It felt nice to lean into something so sincerely sweet and optimistic after how heavy most of the playlist was.

Also, this song just felt appropriate for both a Karlach/Durge song and a Tav/Astarion song, as well as being readable as an Astarion and Durge song. I love the metaphor of memories becoming souvenirs of the journey it takes to get home, as well as the idea of home being people rather than a place. All strong themes of the fic as a whole. Oh, and more moon references.

Chapter 14 - Over and Over by Beach House

Out of nothing comes the moonglow And all that is left (and all that is left) Around you When all the lights go down

One by one, they open Forever and ever

This was the first song I chose for the playlist, and for a while it was the opening track, but eventually I decided that it was more fitting as an ending, not a start.

Over and over is the theme of the whole story, in a way. What it means to repeat your life. I love how tender and soft this song is, how it makes repetition into something beautiful. And it's a song about stars - what a fitting end to a story about Astarion.

Narratively, the tenderness of this song also fits for me with the choice he makes, to risk repeating a third time in order to be honest with his friends about what he's been through.

Chapter 15 - Nessun Dorma by Luciano Pavarotti

[English translation of lyrics]

Set, stars! Set, stars! At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!

Could there be any other final track for this playlist? Musically, a pun on the theme of repetition, since this is the song that named the first fic in the series. It also fits for a chapter that covers so much of the time period of that first fic.

But also, this is THE Astarion song to me. At dawn, I will win. I love the beauty and triumph of it. It's so perfect for how his story ends (spawn ending, at least). And, you know, it's got the star-based lyrics. So there you go.

[helluvaoutlaw]

Ozzie's nightclub was the epitome of decadent opulence, a venue that dripped with luxury and sin in equal measure. Owned by the Sin of Lust himself, Asmodeus, the club was a tantalizing blend of the erotic and the extravagant.

Lavish velvet drapes adorned the walls, catching the shimmering lights that danced across the room.

Beautiful imps and succubi were either serving the clients (in every sense of the word) or dangling from the ceiling, locked in cages.

The patrons were dressed to the nines in their most tantalizing attire, each vying for a glance from the club's infamous owner or one of the night’s performers. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sweet aroma of alcohol, mingling together to create an intoxicating haze that promised a night of unforgettable indulgence.

As the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the crowd. There was a brief ripple of snickering, the kind that spoke of anticipation and the thrilling unknown. Conversations dwindled to whispers and then to silence, all eyes riveted to the stage. Tonight, it seemed, the club was more packed than usual, the energy in the room electric with expectancy.

A single red spotlight flickered to life, cutting through the darkness to illuminate the silhouette of a tall, slim imp. The figure began to move, each step slow and deliberate, exuding a sensuality that captivated the audience. The melody that began to fill the air was a seductive blend of rock and blues, its rhythm pulsating through the room like a heartbeat.

The imp’s body moved in perfect harmony with the music, a hypnotic sway that drew the eyes of every onlooker.

As he approached the edge of the stage, his features became clearer—a devilish grin playing on his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief.

The imp was dressed in a sleek black leather outfit that shimmered under the red spotlight.

His crop top, adorned with metal studs, clung to his torso, highlighting his lean muscles.

The outrageously tight leather pants accentuated his legs, and his boots, also made of shiny black leather, gave him an imposing presence. Long fingerless gloves completed the look, each movement of his hands catching the light and adding to the visual impact of his performance.

The crowd was mesmerized, their gazes fixed on him as he prowled across the stage with a confident, sensual swagger, his long tail swishing left and right.

"When you came in, the air went out."

He began to sing, his voice a smoky, velvet tone that sent shivers down the spines of those listening.

The public was entranced, their collective breath held as they watched the imp command the stage with effortless allure.

"And every shadow filled up with doubt."

Each note, each movement, was a masterful play of seduction, weaving a spell that bound the audience in place.

"I don't know who you think you are,

But before the night is through,

I wanna do bad things with you..."

@the-delightful-temptation

(((In case you'd like to read 😉 )))

@ultio-angelus

Midnight @ The House of Asmodeus - Blitzø

@helluvaoutlaw

He found a way to get in. Hot damn, there’s a back entrance.

Blitz knew he’d normally never get access to a place like this. He’d spent enough time sneaking into group homes and rehabilitation centers to know a thing or two about breaking in to a moderate-to-severely guarded business.

He’d just had one of his shittier weeks as of late, and he needed a fucking break. He told Moxxie to clear his schedule and off he went into the night, hopping through stranger’s yards and over their fences, bouncing on steel trash cans and swinging off fire escapes. Parkour was a skill of his that never truly left him post-circus.

A few rooftops later and he was passing over the wall at the lustful lounge, boots silent on the cement leading to the back entrance. He hid behind a nearby loading truck, watching as a few spritely demons carried barrels of alcohol to and from, chatting amongst each other. The door was being held open by a stopper and before long he was inside, successfully avoiding the eyesight of any unwanted attention (aside from one cook that almost took a finger off him before he admitted to “getting turned around on his way to the shitter.”)

Blitzø exhales a sigh of relief once his feet finally hit velvet flooring, thumping base rattling his chest in the best way. He avoids getting too terribly close to the stage—hoping to avoid another encounter with Fizzarolli or Asmodeus. The imp wastes no time ordering himself a glass of whiskey at the bar before finding a comfortable table, adding water and a BBQ bacon burger for dinner once the succubi waitresses noticed his arrival.

The lights go down and he smirks, preparing himself for whatever form of entertainment was coming to greet his senses tonight. What a great night to taste victory.

[navybrat817]

Nick Fowler coming homr after a long mission and find you in his favorite lingeri and his shirt only.

I would love to welcome Nick home that way. Please!

Coming Home

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: You welcome Nick home after a mission. Word Count: Almost 1.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, brief oral sex (m. receiving), slight D/S behavior, brief porn with some feels (it’s me), Nick Fowler (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Happy Sinday! Once again, you all know this man owns me now. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @vase-of-lilies.  Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment if you feel inclined!

Coming home to you after a mission is something Nick always looks forward to. No matter how it went, you were home. You also knew, good or bad, he needed to take it out on you. Whether they meant celebrating a job well down or fucking his frustrations out until the sun came up, you were always ready for him.

"On my way, sweetheart."

The mission went well, or at least well enough. When they didn't, he wouldn't add "sweetheart" to the message. So you knew his button down shirt and the lingerie were a good choice. And instead of being in the bedroom, you patiently waited on your knees near the sofa.

The moment the front door opened, you straightened up eagerly. Your heart raced faster as he closed and locked it, setting his keys on the table before he made his way down the hall with his bag. The sound of it hitting the floor as he saw you made you smile. And, of course, he looked as handsome as ever. The gray in his scruff never failed to take your breath away. And why did he look so good in sweaters?

Handsome bastard. You wore that on purpose.

"Welcome home," you said as he slowly walked over to you, tilting your chin up. The blue in his eyes darkened with possessiveness as he looked down at you, your hands already sliding up his jean-clad thighs.

"The best thing to come home to. My favorite," he whispered, gently pushing his thumb past your lips as you unbuttoned his jeans. "Get it nice and wet like you will with my cock."

You closed your mouth around him, sucking on the digit while you unzipped his pants. Your eyes stayed on him as he sighed, needing relief that only you could provide. You palmed him for a moment, taking pride at how hard he was, before you pulled his jeans and underwear down enough to free him. Your mouth watered more around his thumb before it slipped out, quickly replaced by his throbbing cock.

"Not coming down your throat. Not 'til I fill up your pretty pussy," he promised, holding the back of your head to make you take him deeper. "You wet for me? Sucking on my cock always ruins your panties. I don't know why you bother with them."

You didn't know either most days, but you moaned to let him know his words were true. You were tempted to rub against his leg so he could feel what he did to you. Instead, you breathed through your nose and sucked and lavished his cock like a good girl.

Your good girl, Nick. No one can give it to you or take it like I can.

"Touch yourself for me," he demanded, making you whine as he pulled you off his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick the tip before he stopped you again. Still your good girl even when I’m desperate to have you. "Show me how wet you are."

"Yes, sir," you answered, dipping your fingers into the wet fabric and playing with your wet folds. It never felt as good as his fingers, but you'd feel him soon enough. You took your fingers out to show him once you gathered enough wetness.

"Missed you," he said so quietly that you almost missed it as he pulled you to your feet. I missed you, too. Gripping your wrist, he brought your fingers to his mouth and licked your fingers clean with a groan. I know you love the taste of me. "C'mere."

Nick pulled you in for a kiss, the small taste from both of you mingling on your tongue. It was a slow tease of what was to come. You rolled your hips forward, unable to stop yourself. It was too long since you had him.

"Want my cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please," you whispered. Don't make me beg, even though I will.

He pulled away with a grin, taking a seat on the couch and beckoning you with his finger. Your gaze dropped to his lap as you stepped in front of him. Reaching out, he grasped the band of your panties and slid them down your thighs until they fell to your feet.

He must really like them if he didn't destroy them.

"You want my cock so badly, take a seat," he said casually as he helped you straddle him, but it was an order. Your throat went dry with anticipation as he gripped the back of your thighs. The hunger in his eyes made you feel beautiful and you couldn't resist giving him exactly what you both wanted.

"Take a seat or take a ride?" you asked as you began to sink down, not fighting him as he slid his shirt from your shoulders. The bra came off a moment later, your breasts free and aching to feel his hands and mouth on them.

"Ride me 'til you come and don't fucking stop. We stop when I say we're done," he ordered through his teeth, his hands moving to your hips and gripping them hard.

You smirked as you slowly took every inch of his thickness. The burning stretch immediately faded to bliss as you sank down, your walls snuggly gripping him. He taught you exactly how to take him. And you knew he was itching to snap his hips up and take over. He always had that need to be in control.

Not yet.

"Is that what you want?" you asked, running your hands up his abs to his chest under his sweater. You felt him tremble slightly underneath you. His resolve was going to snap quicker than you thought. Good. "Want to ride your big cock 'til I come all over you? Drown you in my sweet pussy? I know you've never had a pussy as good as mine."

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groaned as you lifted your hips and slammed them down. He brought a hand to your breast, groping and massaging as he teased the nipple with his thumb. "No matter how many times I fuck you, you're still so fucking tight."

And no matter how in control you are, you always lose it when I gush all over your cock.

You let your nails lightly scratch his chest before you really began to move, your wet walls gliding along his cock as you bounced. He was always so deep at this angle and you knew enjoyed the view, as he should. The way he craved you made you feel more confident and his need for you was insatiable.

You would always feel desired by Nick.

He smirked as he rocked his hips up. "Been dreaming of you around my cock… and coming home to you," he rasped. Your eyes widened before your gaze went soft. You dreamt of him coming home to you, too. "Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, Nick," you smiled down at him.

"And I love you riding me, like you can't get enough of me inside you. Just like that. Fuck."

You would have laughed at how quickly it shifted back to sex if it wasn't true. You could never get enough of him. And you knew why he only allowed himself to be vulnerable for a moment. After some missions, even if they went well, he didn't like to dwell on what happened and what could have been. He just needed to get lost in the haven of you and your body.

And you knew he loved you. That was never a question.

Pleasure began to build inside you as you rode him faster, desperate to let go. You wanted to make him come, too. Milk every fucking drop of him so he could drip out of you for days. You deserved that after waiting so patiently for him to come home.

"You love my cock, don't you? Say it, sweetheart. Say how much you love my cock and you can come."

You almost lost it when his thumb found your clit, rubbing quickly. "Say how much you love my pussy and I'll let you come inside me," you countered.

The grip on your hip tightened as he sat up and snarled, his cock still buried deep inside you as he moved in quick, deep thrusts. "Say. It."

"Fuck! I love it, Nick," you cried, your walls beginning to pulsate. "I love your cock. Love it when you fill me up. Please."

"That's all I needed to hear," he smirked, gently pinching your clit one last time. "Come."

You fell to pieces, practically pouring wetness around him as you gave yourself over. Your pussy tingled and throbbed as you trembled, but you refused to get lost in the euphoria. Your hands somehow found his shoulders as you rode him through it, determined to make him feel as good as he made you feel.

"Jesus fucking Christ. Love your sweet pussy. Always makes a mess of me," he groaned as he arched his hips up.

"Fill me up. Give it to me," you begged, grinding down with a whine. "Don't you want to come in me? I've been so good for you."

You smiled as he thrust up once more, flooding you as he moaned. You took a moment to appreciate just how beautiful he looked with his face screwed in pleasure. And if your tight pussy wasn't enough to tip him over the edge, a reminder that you love being filled by him always did the trick.

"Welcome home," you said again, humming as you leaned in to kiss him. Your heart still raced in your chest as he smirked against your lips. "What?"

"Made a mess on my sweater," he said smugly as you looked between your bodies. The wet patch was somehow visible on the dark blue and you weren't at all embarrassed. You had no reason to be.

"Made a mess on your cock, too," you said proudly.

"You did," he smirked, making you gasp as he rolled his hips up. "But I didn't say you could stop. We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let's see how much of a mess we can make."

*****

Love and thanks!