#anyways. netflix please. i need more of them

[gender-luster]

i need a spinoff of dead boy detectives about all the sad lonely gays the dbda left in port townsend (jenny, monty, the cat king)

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[peppermintpegis]

netflix one piece live action feels a little like fanfic in that it makes sure it hits all the important notes but doesnt do all the work to make them hit which works in fic where the reader is supposed to bring all the emotional story investment from the original but doesnt work in a multi million adaptation that is supposed to be able to stand on its own or even serve as an intro to the series. it even does this in service to have more koby and helmeppo gay moments in this essay i w

[fayes-fics]

The Wonderful Unexpected: Chapter 1

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU (future chapters)

Chapter Summary: it’s Christmas, but it’s beginning to look a lot like a shitshow…

artwork by me

Warnings: None really... swearing and non-graphic character attack and injury.

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: Welcome to Chapter 1 of my next multi-chapter! A modern rom-com based on While You Were Sleeping. This is really just getting the wheels in motion, where she encounters Anthony. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis. Thank you to @colettebronte for beta reading. Please enjoy! <3

The first time you see him, your heart almost stops.

It is a Monday morning, your first shift in your new job at a coffee shop on a dreary day in late October, when he sweeps in, a blur of athletic movement in a sharply tailored suit. 

Your boss, the store manager, Gen, starts to make his drink, double espresso, without him even having to say a word. And seemingly, just like that, he is gone again, you standing there, stupefied, awkwardly clutching the milk-frothing pitcher.

And thus, it begins. 

Every weekday between 8:01 and 8:15, Prince Charming glides in, grabs his cup and is gone—a beautiful mirage with amazing cheekbones and a watch that costs more than your annual rent. It's like your world goes into slow motion, and, to steal a phrase from your dearly departed Dad’s favourite song, birds suddenly appear every time he is near. 

Anyway, one random, soggy Thursday, the fates intervene, and it's your turn to serve him. As soon as you see him striding purposely towards the shop, you start his drink, butterflies in your stomach. The smile he bestows upon you is dazzling… even if his attention is slightly diverted by the call he is on. 

Sparks shoot up your arm and into your chest as your fingers brush his briefly as you hand over the small cup.

Surely, this is meant to be? 

He is perfect. Your husband (he just doesn't realise it yet).

All you need is a way to introduce yourself…

—

It's the end of your shift three days before Christmas when Gen sidles up to you, an odd expression on her face.

“I’d like to recommend you for Employee of the Month.” 

“Didn't know there was one,” you shrug, having no idea what that could mean. You suspect not a great deal. Barista is no one’s chosen career. This is very much what you hope is a pit stop on your way to better things. A way to pay the rent until you get your big break. Or get to go travelling.

“Oh yes, well, it's been a few weeks now, and really, you’re my best employee. You are never late, always reliable, never get an order wrong, and are friendly to all the customers…” She trails off, looking very sheepish. “And if you are willing to work Christmas Day… ”

“Christmas Day!? Why are we even open on Christmas Day anyway? It’ll be dead, even around here,” you frown, putting down the cloth you were wiping the counter with.

“Owner policy,” she shrugs. “It's only for four hours in the morning - 7 til 11. If you do, it’s quadruple pay...” she lilts, attempting to make it sound appealing.

You squirm uncomfortably, not wanting to let her down but also really not wanting to work on that day. You were looking forward to a duvet and Netflix day with the second most handsome creature in the world (and definitely the most loyal), Chairman Meow.

“Look,” Gen petitions softly. “Prue still has bronchitis. Edie can't switch because she's got some big trip to see her cousins, and l promised my kiddos that I'd be there for them this year… l know it isn't fair, and I can't force you to do it... but you mentioned you are single and your parents are gone. You're the only one…” she trails off, looking awkward.

“...Without family…” you supply glumly, already knowing you will capitulate. At least quadruple pay will come in handy.

—

You are struggling to haul your Aunt Hilda’s Christmas ‘gift’ - a frighteningly enormous box you can tell is choked full of ugly breakables - up the stairs after a long shift when he materialises as he always seems to, just when it is most inconvenient.

Not your prince. No. Sadly not.

Albion “Alby” Finch. 

Yep, quite the name. Not one anyone could live up to. But perhaps particularly not him. The well-meaning owner of the building who lives in the ground floor flat. Still adjusting to his status as a landlord since his father passed last year, he is boundlessly friendly in that untrained puppy way. Always wanting to help but always somehow ending up more of a hindrance than anything. 

“Oh y/n, that looks tricky; allow me!”

He pushes his glasses up his nose with a pointer finger, then immediately lunges forward and grabs the other side of the heavy box without asking first.

“No, wait….!” 

But it's too late.

You had the box precariously balanced, holding it strategically over the poorly taped seams. But his sudden interference has disturbed the contents. You watch as he realises he was wholly unprepared for its weight; his face fleetingly takes on a look of respect that you were handling such a burden.

Time slows like molasses as it slips from his grip, a horrible crunching sound as it hits the step, losing much of its structural integrity in the impact. Then, a calamitous symphony as it tumbles almost poetically down the whole flight, picking up speed as it goes. Yet again, the world is in slo-mo, but not in a good way this time, watching its barrelling path with increasing dread. Both of you wince as the inevitable happens: the spindly legs of the Alby’s heirloom table in the hallway snapping under the duress of poorly packaged terminal velocity porcelain. 

“I'm so, so sorry!” he starts, flustering like a bird. “It’s all my fault; I’ll pay for it,” he assures.

“Alby…” you sigh, head slumping back in resignation, staring at the ceiling. You can't be too mad; he has sort of done you a favour, saving you the inevitable trip to the charity shop.

“What can I do to make amends?” He presses on. “May I take you to dinner?”

You are almost shocked that he has finally summoned the courage to ask you out after two years. When you tilt your chin back down, you see the panic rising on his face as he belatedly realises what he did.

“You are my landlord. Probably not a good idea,” you return diplomatically, trying to let him down easily. He is a nice man, and his admiration for cheese is to be respected, but you know you could never see him as anything but a sweet, slightly clueless friend.

“Right-e-o,” he nods, cheeks reddened. “Of course. So rude. Please forgive me.”

You wave a dismissive hand, staring down at the pile of destruction below, dreading the thought of cleaning up.

“I’ll deal with all that up,” Alby gestures, tracking your line of sight.

And for once, rather than help as you inevitably always do, you agree, your feet throbbing after a long day where it seemed every teenager in zone 1 needed a matcha oat latte.

So, as you tumble into your flat, you sigh in relief, flinging off your shoes and pouring a glass of water for yourself and a saucer of cat milk. You may not have your Prince Charming (yet…?), but you have Chairman Meow, who always makes a genuinely excellent fluffy pillow for your favourite brainless binge-watch. 

—

It’s as if there is lead in your socks as you shuffle down the pavement and roll up the shutters. 

Christmas Day. 6:54am.

Still an hour until sunrise, it's misty and rainy, but then that's typical London, really.

What isn't typical London is the deserted streets. Hardly a soul to be seen, only the very occasional car. Most people are tucked up in bed or, if they are parents, blearily watching their kids tear wrapping paper asunder in pursuit of loud plastic.

When an hour has already passed without a single customer, you are entering a new level of boredom. Inventing new lyrics for the Christmas music playing, balancing stirring sticks into a pagoda-like structure of impressive resilience (it can hold a cup!), cursing the owner who even thought it was a good idea to be open today. It's all a recipe for a sort of irksome ennui.

So when you hear a commotion outside, you almost fall off the stool you have been idly twirling on. Springing from your perch, you run to the glass window, keen for any distraction.

But the sight that greets you has your heart in your throat.

There, in the street, surrounded by a gang of kids in oversized hoodies, is your man. Prince Charming. They are tussling with him, and you realise they are likely trying to mug him of his expensive watch. 

You observe helplessly, too scared to confront them, worried that doing so might exacerbate the situation. As you fumble in your apron pocket for your phone, the kids disperse, and to your horror, you see your man lying in the road, worryingly still. 

Before you are even conscious of it, instead of dialling 999, you are flinging open the shop door and sprinting towards him. 

“Sir! Sir!” 

Skidding to a halt and hovering over him, you can see an ugly bruise forming on his left temple already. They must have knocked him out.

“Sir! Please wake up!!”

But there is no response. 

You fall to your knees next to him, tapping his cheek lightly with the back of your hand, a sense of dread filling you with every passing millisecond.

Cmon universe! You can't do this! Why can't you take out the ugly ones?! Kidding... Sort of. 

As your completely inappropriate internal monologue rages, you grab his shoulders and shake him gently, needing him to get up. Get out of the road, at least.

“Sir! Please! You are lying in the road! Please get up!”

You know it's Christmas Day, so traffic is thankfully light. However, if a bus comes around this blind corner, it will hit you both before it sees you.

Again, nothing from him.

You bend down to place your ear next to his nose and mouth, heart pounding, to see if you can hear breathing, at least. 

“Fuck, you smell so good!”

It's out of your mouth before you can censor it, not that anyone is within earshot, this unconscious beauty aside. Your nostrils are filled with expensive, no doubt custom-blended aftershave, which literally makes your mouth water. You have to tamp the sudden urge to bury your face into his neck and inhale deeply.

But then you hear the hiss of air brakes and know a large vehicle is approaching—it could be a bus, could be a lorry. Either way, you are not exactly going to stay here to find out.

Without knowing quite what possesses you, you limpet yourself around his prone body and literally log-roll him out of the road. A blur of frantic tumbling movement that only ceases when your knees encounter the rough stipples of the pedestrian crossing section of the pavement. Shocking even yourself with the strength you are able to muster.

It's incredible what reserves of power you can summon when Prince Charming’s life is on the line, apparently.

As you lay straddled awkwardly on top of him, a street-sweeping lorry barrels around the corner, right over where he was lying. Sweeping up what you suspect was his mobile phone in the process before you could even grab it for him.

Heart racing at the closeness of the call, you collapse on top of him, breathing hard. Trying desperately to ignore the stirring of your traitorous libido at the sensation of muscular thighs clenched between your own. 

His eyes flutter open, and you murmur a breathless “hi,” almost losing yourself in their depthless, warm beauty. That is before they roll backwards, and his head slumps to the left.

Just great.

As Michael Buble might sing at this particular moment…  ♫ It's beginning to look a lot like a shitshow. ♫

masterlist • wips • taglist (must follow this blog to be tagged)

Taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

[mayasaurusss]

TRANSFEM VIRGIN JACKIE TAYLOR X READER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Transfem virgin Jackie Taylor blurbs

Contains: transfem Jackie, smut, 1700 k words blurb.

A/N: I'm so sorry to have delayed this for so long anon😥. I promise that next time I'll do it quicker and also more explicit🙇‍♀️

It's not as explicit as my other recent Lucy nsfw blurb, but I hope you guys will enjoy it still!

P.s i know that's Rhiannon in the photo, just pretend it's Jackie alright?

Jackie who survived the wilderness, who has come out of it scarred and traumatized. She has seen death and famine, and her personality and mental health become severely affected. She is introverted, shy and her outgoing personality has been frozen under pain and nightmares.

But she pulls through, and manages to go to college like she had wanted. She thinks that she can make a new life for herself, but as it turns out, college life isn't what she is supposed to be: making friends is hard, exams are tough and her professors are just shitty people. After all she has been through, she doesn't think that she'll be able to have any friendship ever again, not like the one she had with Shauna, anyway.

She doesn't have any roommates until you show up. One day you just barge in her room, suitcase in hand and say "I'm your new roommate!". Truth to be told, as much as she wishes for a friend, Jackie would rather have some peace and quiet. That's what she says to herself anyway, until your company starts to grow on her. She didn't really understand how lonely she was. You guys start to spend your nights together, playing card games, chit chatting, watching movies on Netflix and so on. But slowly, something happens to Jackie's heart. Nothing major, of course, but she feels...weird. Why does her heart throb when she sees you? And what about the butterflies in her stomach? Why is she jealous when other guys and girls flirt with you? And why is she so damned angry at you for not realizing their intentions?

Maybe she is just envious or jealous, but the thought of other people trying to get in your pants makes her angry. For a while, she thinks she's being unreasonable: you are her first friend after the incident; of course she'd want to gatekeep your relationship. And after all, she seems only to attract people who will hurt her and who she will hurt. She distances herself from you, thinking that maybe "I'll be a bad influence, I should just leave them alone". But then one day, she makes a connection.

You have been gone to class for half of the day, leaving her alone inside your dorm room. She needs a little bit of space, and she has been stressed for a while.

She watches as two women grind against each other's bodies on her phone, their skin sweaty and their kisses passionate. One of them pulls out a strap and ties it to her hips, sinking it inside the other's. Jackie sits underneath her covers, stroking herself, curling her fingertips downward at the base, when a thought flashes inside her mind. "Wish we could do that..." and her brain immediatley swaps the bottom's face with yours, interchanging you between the dominating and the dominated. Her heart races, thoughts of you two on her bed, together, grinding against each other... and then kissing tenderly after all is done, giggling and falling asleep together. The feeling inside Jackie's heart is warm, so good that it makes her ache. And as she comes down from her high, she puts two and two together: she has already felt this way once, long ago in the cold of the wilderness, and recalls the pain of how she felt when she had-. Jackie stops and understands, an almost guttural "Fuck!" comes out of her throat.

And as if the situation is not bad enough, you come in a few minutes after her little panic attack. She's still naked underneath the covers, goosebumps travel along her skin when she sees you coming in. She makes an effort in justifying why she was naked underneath, "I just sleep this way when I'm hot, you know?" you make no remark on how it's november and her covers aren't warm enough to sleep under unless she wears something, but oh well.

Jackie who feels embarrassed to masturbate from then on. No matter how hard she tries, you're inside her mind, constantly. She tries to muffle her moans on her covers, stroking up and down her length with you sleeping soundly on your bed. You'd be horrified, she thinks, at the images she has of you in her mind: above her bouncing and with your hands at her throat, beneath her on all fours, cuddled in her arms while she moves from behind...

Jackie who has a hard time going to her lessons because no matter what she does, you just seem to not get out of her head. She needs you to have her in your arms, kissing her. Who has to go out of class early to take care of her little problem.

Jackie, who feels bad about masturbating with you in her mind, who feels dirty and unlovable as she does so, but she can't help it, her body can't help it. And all the while, a little voice tells her that "You're not good enough" and "They won't love you, How could they love you of all people? She didn't love you, he didn't love you; why should they? ".

Jackie who steals glances of you, imagining your hands on her chest, your lips on hers. Who yearns to kiss you so bad it hurts. Who has to go to the bathroom at least once per night whenever you two are spending time together. You don't know what she is doing, but shrug off your concerns.

Jackie who finally gets caught by you. You stand outside the doom room, listening to the sounds coming from the other side. Moans, groans, wet movements and little slips of your name here and there make it obvious to you what Jackie is doing. You slip inside the room, as slowly and quietly as possible, watching how Jackie is bucking up in her hand, hips chasing upwards the feeling. You smile, deciding to approach her with a simple "Hey" but your voice gives Jackie a small heart attack and she shouts, covering her body as best as she can, leaving her chest out in the open and her legs uncovered.

"How...how long have you been there?" she asks, blood freezing with shame and mind racing, trying to understand if you've heard her say your name. "Long enough to understand what's going on" you sit on the bed, too close for her liking, giving her a knowing smirk that she already knows the meaning of. "You were thinking about me, weren't you?" her body stops, missing heartbeats and air. She can feel tears prickling at her skin, but you quickly say to her "I-No Jackie, I liked it". From then on, you tell her how you wished to do the first step, but how you were always so scared that she might've not liked you, how you yearned for her lips on yours. The moment you two are done talking about your feelings, you all but leap into each other's arms.

Jackie who can't help but get hard almost instantly. She can feel blood traveling through her veins, pooling at her crotch, warming her skin and flesh. Who will have to clench her hand around her cock to ground herself, to avoid cumming just from kissing you. She will feel so good from just kissing you that a drop of cum falls from her slit, signaling just how full she is, ready to let all of her pleasure out.

Jackie who feels so incredibly good when you ignore her cock and press two fingers beneath her balls, mimicking fingering her. She's already so hard as it is, and your actions only serve to egg her on more.

Jackie whose hands are shaky as she undresses you, full of eagerness and craving every part of you. Who, as soon as your chest is naked, will plant wet open mouth kisses on any inch of your skin, feeling your muscles harden against her ministrations.

Jackie who will climb on you, cock pressed between your and her stomachs, grinding back and forth. Who will get off like that, grinding on your stomach. Who will spend her time under your crotch, head pressed in between your hips and the mattress. Who will feel euphoric and decide to not touch herself in any way.

Jackie who's cock throbs in need, tip and balls red as she desperately tries to hold it in, wanting only your hands on her.

Jackie who confesses, as you are about to push her length in, that she is a virgin. She sweats and apologizes, already ready for you to leave her hanging, but then lets out a loud gasp when she's finally stilled inside of you.

Jackie who trembles as you ride her into oblivion, hands shaky gripping with force at your sides, short of breath and eyes rolling backwards. She has never felt this way with anyone else, not Jeff nor Shauna, just with you. It's euphoric, it's amazing, and she doesn't wish you to stop anytime soon.

Jackie who has very low stamina but a super high libido. She'll release the precum already five minutes after you start to bounce on her, staining white the condom she wore, panting like she just crossed the line in a marathon run. You haven't even cummed yet, and as you're about to hop off of her, she grabs your hips again and mumbles incoherently, grinding you back against her as she starts to harden again.

Jackie who at one point, decides to move you and fuck you from above, fingers gripping the sheet near your head. She moves erratically, gasping and panting and moaning, her hips pushing into you at a speed you didn't even know she was capable of. Her cheeks are as red as a tomato, lips coming to settle on yours as she moves back and forth, back and forth.

Jackie who, when she cums, sees stars behind her eyelids and feels like she's about to faint.

Jackie who falls asleep almost immediatley between your arms, snoozing off with the knowledge that she has finally found someone to rely on.

[starlightseraph]

@netflix @netflix @netflix

i’m so fucking done like what the fuck fuck fucking fuck. i was mad about 1899, because dark was so good and i wanted more from the creators. i was saddened by i am not ok with this, because i loved the characters and wanted to finish the story. i was devastated by the oa, because it was such a beautiful show and i needed to know what happened next.

but this is too fucking much. GUYS. the sandman universe is going, it’s getting more episodes and expanding. dbd made it to the top 3, that alone should automatically get it renewed. dbd is honestly one of my absolute favourite shows of all time. it’s funny and complex and has some of the best queer rep ever, it deals with important themes and has loveable characters and a beautifully realised world.

PLEASE, i beg of anyone who sees this, whether they’re a fan of dbd or not, to BLAST netflix in any way you can. tag them, message them, write to them en masse. like i’m so serious. literally write a letter by hand or print it out, and physically send it to netflix headquarters.

fucking do it, please. we cannot lose this lovely and beautiful and witty show. maybe, though the chances are slim and there are probably legal challenges, it can be picked up again by max, which was what originally produced the show anyways.

@netflix @netflix @netflix

[crappyyuki]

LEGO NINJAGO LES GOOOOOOO :DDDDD

Dragons Rising is so GOOD. MY FIRE BOI FINALLY HAS THE SPOTLIGHT HE DESERVES! WOOOHOOOOO!!!

I love this fiery lego man so much. For being out to the side after season 7, which is probs like 7 years or smth don't quote me on that, he finally gets to shine :,)

Kai Smith as main character is my Roman Empire omg.

Like I'm more of a blue type of person (looks at 2012!Leo, Knb!Kasamatsu, Nightwing, possibly Sonic) but this fire man captured my heart when I was like 9 or smth. HE IS SUCH A BIG BROTHER I LOVE HIM.

(Can you tell that's my favorite trope?)

Spoilers? Maybe? Just in case.

Anyway. Go watch it. Its on Netflix. Idk if its just me but I'm pretty sure I haven't watched S1P2 because Netflix doesn't have it but ITS OKAY CUZ I HAVE CLIPS WITH KAI AND WYLDFYRE I SAW EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW I LOVE THEM SO MUCH DAD KAI DAD KAI DAD KAI—

If you wanna see Kai content, Dragons Rising delivers like mwah, chefs kiss.

FIRE BREATHING DRAGONS OMGOMGOMG HE IS SUCH A DRAGON THATS WHY HE GETS CLOSE TO DRAGONS IMMEDIATELY HE LEARNED RISING DRAGON FIRST IM SO PROUD I FEEL LIKE A PARENT HOLY CHALUPA.

JUSTICE FOR FIRE MAN!

I fucking hope he'll still be relevant in S3. If he isn't, I'm killing everyone. Kai deserves his own season dammit!

I'm such a starved Kai fan lmao.

Love the other characters too. But. Kai. I have been stuck in the Sahara Desert Nether Space desolate of Kai content for YEARS let me HAVE THIS!

Go watch. Please. PLEASE OH MY GOD GO WATCH I NEED SOMEONE WITH ME TO HYPERFIXATE ON THIS STUPID LEGO MAN.

HE IS SO BADASS BUT SO DUMB AND WARM AND PATIENT AND SOFT AND FIRE AND COLD AND ANGY AND TOUGH OMG—

[thera-daydreams]

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

Warning: This will be very canon-divergent, considering that it will be a fix-it fic for the Darkling's story. Will contain elements of violence, manipulation, and gore present in the series. Plus, mentions of depression, trauma, regret (as W. Maximoff) and the inclusion of possible adult themes in the later chapters.

Majority of this will also be based on the Netflix show since I haven't read the entire books yet. There may be inaccuracies and a whole lot of changes. You have been warned!

Otherwise, proceed and enjoy! ♟️🌹

(Sidenote: So... okay. I'm deciding to write this and make it a formal fanfic—as per previous post one and post two—because I seriously cannot sleep with the overwhelming inspiration I'm getting from shipping these two characters. Aleksander and Wanda are practically the same person in different fonts. They both did shitty, selfish things but I need to give them a happy ending. Together. Somehow. And hate it or love it, I firmly believe this idea should be shared to the world. If you know my other JJK fic, you'll know Wanda is an obsession of mine. Also, also, also! Please bear with me if updates are scarce. I'm juggling my academic review, work, another unfinished fic, and my daily fangirling. 🥹)

1. once upon a dream

Aleksander had dreams of you long before he even knew you. Maybe it was the stress of this neverending war. Either way, you weren't real anyway... were you?

(3.9k words)

2. coincidence

The Black General finds himself magnetized by the seemingly inconspicuous gardener in the Little Palace. He gets to know you, contemplating life. Just when he thought you were just a strangely wise, young otkazat'sya woman, he finds out why exactly you decided to work in the Little Palace.

(2.5k words)

3. reflection

You are confronted by a certain Shadow Summoner about your motives in bringing the kids to the Little Palace. He realizes that you've loved and lost so deeply, eerily the same as he had. Perhaps that's the reason why he was so drawn to you; he could see his reflection in your eyes. But the more answers the Darkling got, the more questions he had. Unfortunately for you, Aleksander was a patient and persistent man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

(4.8k words)

4. haunted

You were no powerless otkazat’sya, Aleksander finds out the hard way. He’s pushed you too far, and he’s left to deal with the aftermath of the new knowledge he half-regrets he gained. On the other hand, you see something bad about this new world that wished you had never seen.

(6.0k words)

5. ?

(tba)

... more chapters?

Synopsis:

"No more magic." You swore to yourself after the madness that you'd spiraled into; the chaos you'd wrecked upon the Multiverse under the influence of the Darkhold. Now, you had destroyed the Darkhold in every universe.

The last universe that had a Darkhold? Safe. Book of the Damned, gone. It was a land with no heroes, gods, or sorcerers... just... normal people and... Grisha? Either way, it was time for your atonement. Your repentance for your mortal sins.

But when you save and bring three orphaned Grisha children to the Little Palace, working as an otkazat'sya gardener to secretly keep an eye on them, it turns out that a certain Shadow Summoner begins to have his eye on you, instead.

taglist: @idohknow @robertthehoover @the-desilittle-bird @pearlstiare

[el-viruss]

I am officially starting my crusade to get more people into DC's Legends of Tomorrow so here is a list if reasons YOU should watch it:

- We've got time travel

- We've got aliens

- We've got magic

- We've got the vibe of all those holodeck centric episodes of Star Trek: TNG

- We've got superheroes

- We've got valuable life lessons

- We've got (SO MANY!!) openly queer characters

- We've got an asexual character!! Still falls under queer but someone said they should be mentioned individually and I agree :]

- We've got openly jewish characters

-We've got openly muslim characters

- We've got the deconstruction of toxic masculinity

- We've got found family

- We've got middle aged men calling each other "partner" with just enough room to think that maybe something is going on between them

- We've got betrayal

- We've got hurt/comfort

- We've got revenge

- We've got a team of nobodies glued together by the unshakable bond of friendship

- We've got a John Noble cameo

- We've got soulmates

- We've got changing your own fate

- We've got major character death

- We've got daddy issues

- We've got responsibly resolving daddy issues

- We've got irresponsibly resolving daddy issues

- We've got crossovers

- We've got everyone's favorite character, Beebo!!!

- We've got a reasonable amount of seasons

- We've got just the right amount of cringe for a show made in 2016

There is, however, one horribly downside...the show is only on Netflix. Having said that, it's not like we all don't pirate shit all the time anyway sooo...ya know.

I beg of you to please please please give DC's Legends of Tomorrow a chance!! I need to bring this fandom back!!

[cameronspecial]

OMGGG, I woke up today and thought of smth. It's gonna take forever to make if you do make this, but..

Drew starkey and Y/N, they meet at a fancy restaurant like this GIF

And Y/N thinks he's cute and she's like there waiter or smth and Drew is out for dinner w the cast to celebrate season 4 starting and she's just like really smiley or smth, anywaysss. They get eachothers numbers and talk a bit later that night and she finds out he's a Actor and he played in OBX and what not so she starts watching it and they eventually get tg after more talking. IDK, I WANT IT TO BE LONG LOWKEY, OR CHAPTERS OF THEM MEETING AND TALKING, HE FINDS OUT SOME HOW THAT SHE STARTED WATCHING OBX OR A MOVIE HE PLAYED IN AND SHES ALL BLUSHING AND EMBARRASSED, IDK ITS SM TO ASK- PLSSSS PLSSSS PLSSSSSSSSS PLEASEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

-Autumn

That's Him?!

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

Y/N has been texting Drew all day. She shouldn’t have slipped him her number last night, but he was too good of the match not to take the chance to get to know him better. The table he had sat at was big, filled with, who she assumed were, his co-workers. They were all polite and respectful, helping make her job easy by being patient and stacking their plates when they were done, yet he stood out to her even in the sea of faces. He was attractive, no doubt, and always caught her attention with the most charming smile. He would joke and try to make polite conversation as she served his table. So once the time for them to close their cheque came, she took the opportunity to write her number down on his receipt. It turns out, the feeling is mutual. 

I swear I didn’t know that Nair was a hair removal product. Logan didn’t believe me though. She giggles at his recounting of when he accidentally caused his brother to go bald, not noticing her sister’s arrival in the living room. 

The shift in the couch beside her causes Y/N to turn her sister. “Are you still texting that guy from last night?” Via inquires. Y/N bites her bottom lip to hide her smile, “Yeah. He’s really sweet.” “Well, hopefully, this turns into something more because you need to get laid. Anyways, I’m going to watch my show down here.” The older sister doesn’t say anything as her sibling picks up the remote and switches it to Netflix. 

Y/N continues her conversation with Drew, letting the show on the TV drown out in the background until a familiar voice sounds throughout the room. Her eyes flick up to the large screen and back down to her phone. She recognizes the buzz head and can’t believe his presence. She also doesn’t know why she never thought about asking him where he works. “That’s him?!” she yells, pointing at the screen. Via looks at her sister like she has grown two heads, “What are you talking about?”

“That’s Drew. That’s who I met yesterday and have been talking to.”

“Hold on, you are telling me that the Drew you have been talking to is Drew Starkey.”

“I guess.”

Via pauses the show and pulls out her phone. Her sister waits patiently as her sister types something in. The phone is turned in her direction and she looks at the various pictures of her new friend on the screen. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.”

———

After a few weeks of texting, Y/N and Drew finally set a date on their calendar. His hand rests on her lower back, leading her while the hostess shows them to their table. She sits across from him with a massive grin. His hand rests in the middle of the table and she reaches out to place her hand on his, almost knocking down her empty wine glass if it isn’t for his quick reflex. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I guess I’m still feeling a little Kooky.” Her eyes glance towards his face to see if he reacts to her teasing. His face remains stoic as he tries to figure out if she used the word for the reason he thinks she did. She recognizes his attempt and pushes it even more by going over the menu. 

“I wonder if they have any fish. I’m in the mood for menhaden or as it is otherwise known as pogue.” 

Certain that the jig is now up, he sets his menu down to give her his full attention. “So you know?” he confirms. She nods, “Yes, I found out a few weeks ago when my sister was watching the show in the living room. How come you didn’t tell me?” He sighs, playing with the hoop in his ear. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. Or for you to be scared of entering a relationship with me because I travel a lot for work and sometimes get followed by a crowd of fans.”

 She gives his hand a soft squeeze. “I understand why you would fear those things, but I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. You are still plain old Drew to me and I have a thick skin from being a waitress, I think I can handle a few teenage girls.” 

He gives her a thankful smile and holds his hand up to her, “Why don’t we start over? I’m Drew Starkey. I act for a living and I think you are the most beautiful girl I have seen. I would love it if you would go on a date with me. She giggles and takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Y/N. I wait tables and I would love to go on a date with you.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[ssspideysense]

facetime

summary: peter misses you while you’re away on a business trip.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: smut (minors dni), established relationship, phone/video sex, mutual masturbation, showers, praise

wc: 2.8k

“Peter, seriously? I’ve been in my room for, like, two minutes.”

Despite the hint of irritation in your voice and the way you tossed your keys onto the table, your heart still leapt at the sound of his chuckle through the phone.

“I’m sorry I have immaculate timing,” Peter mused into your ear, “actually, nah, I’m not sorry. I missed you.”

You tossed off your shoes, hit the speaker button and fell back onto the plush bed. The phone bounced next to your head, and you heaved a long sigh, letting your eyes slide shut. At first, the idea of traveling for this work trip was tantalizing. Flights, a nice hotel, whatever food you wanted— all paid. And it was nice, for a few days, until you started to miss your apartment back in NYC.

Your cats, your bed, and of course, your boyfriend.

“I missed you too,” you muttered, letting yourself relax into the mattress. “I’m sorry. Today was just so long. I can’t wait to take a hot shower and just lay down.”

A low hum sounded out next to your head. “Without me?”

You opened your eyes just to roll them, despite being all by your lonesome. It didn’t matter. You knew Peter could feel it somehow anyways, miles and miles away.

“Are we sixteen again?”

And he chuckled again. You could hear some shuffling around on his end and imagined Peter rolling over in your shared bed back at home. Soft sheets, your familiar pillow next to his, the smell of him woven into the blanket. His voice pulled you back. “You deserve to relax, sweetheart. Just… here, hold on,” Peter said.

After a moment, a new little jingle trilled from your phone. A FaceTime request.

Brow arched, you held your phone up and pressed accept.

“Peter Parker,” you said, teetering between light scolding and fondness. He smiled back at you on the screen, dimly lit by the TV across the room. Messy hair, some stubble on his jaw— your heart thumped hard in your chest. “I said I need to shower.”

His sleepy smile turned a bit wolffish. “Yeah, but now we can hang out. Just prop me up somewhere in the bathroom with you.”

“Are you serious?” You laughed.

“One hundred percent.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

… but you listened anyway. The phone was set up on a shelf in the bathroom, angled so you could peek out from behind the curtain and see his face on the screen. He was laid down in bed, partly obscured by his pillow, but he watched your silhouette with a longing, sleepy gaze. “I can’t wait until you’re home,” you heard him over the water.

“Two more days, babe,” you replied, lathering shampoo into your hair.

“I’ve been dying here, all alone… nobody to sleep next to… nobody to eat food and watch Netflix with…” Peter sighed dramatically. “It’s honestly bordering on cruelty at this point.”

You tipped your head back under the warm water, laughing. The heat flushed your body and relaxed your muscles so nicely from such a stressful day. And hearing Peter’s voice— that definitely helped. “I think you’ll survive,” you replied, though you felt very much the same. Peter groaned, making you pop your head out from the curtain and send him a pointed look. He’d shifted a bit in bed, propped up on his elbow now.

“I guess I might,” he said, his gaze flickering down to the water that ran down your neck, down your shoulder. He sucked in a breath through his nose. “Y’know what might help, though?”

You rolled your eyes, something of a grin growing on your lips. “What, babe?”

Peter blinked his big brown eyes into the camera. “Can I get a look, pretty please?” He asked sweetly.

Of course, you already knew what he wanted— it was just satisfying to hear him ask. A little scoff jumped from your lips, but you pulled the curtain back a bit more anyway. The colder air hit you like a wall and raised goosebumps on your wet skin. “You weirdo,” you mused, and tipped your head back under the warm water again.

His gaze wandered over your familiar form on his phone screen. Bare, vulnerable, something he’d seen countless times before but never, ever got tired of. “You can call me whatever you want, beautiful,” Peter grinned, “I’m just happy to be here.”

“Happy to be watching me shower on FaceTime?” Lathered loofah in hand, you laughed lightly under your breath as you covered your body in bubbles. “You want me to be your own personal cam girl or something?”

Peter’s brows raised. “I mean—“

“Don’t answer that.”

He watched with rapt attention, following the loofah over every curve of your body. Soap and suds slowly slid down your smooth skin. He could easily imagine his hands running over you instead. Down your arms, your sides, his fingers curling around your hips.

Peter’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His eyes fell down to your ass, as much as he could see from this angle, anyway.

As you continued to lather and scrub, you noticed Peter had fallen awfully quiet over the past few minutes. A quick glance over at your phone told you he’d changed positions again, now sitting up against the headboard with his phone in hand. He blinked once you made eye-contact through the screen, his little jolt not escaping your attention.

“What’re you doing?” You eyed him, a brow raised.

Peter shifted the phone a little bit. “Just enjoying my time with you,” he replied simply.

But you knew him better than that— you could tell when he was being sneaky, because he had an awful poker face when it came to you.

“Yeah? Just sitting there?” You squeezed the loofah over yourself, big fluffs of bubbles rolling down your neck and chest. A gentle but deliberate hand eased down your side and up your stomach, slathering the suds across your soft skin.

“You look so good,” Peter ignored your question, focusing instead on how you moved so languidly under the water and through the steam, “so, so good. Turn around for me?”

A flurry of butterflies fluttered in your belly unexpectedly. Part of you felt silly for this whole video chat bit, but you also felt a sense of excitement bubbling up under the surface that outweighed your embarrassment. After a short pause, you listened and turned where you stood, leaning forward against the tile wall with an arch in your back— if you were going to give in, you might as well have fun with it. You gave your phone a glance over your shoulder. Peter’s eyes were locked onto the screen. His usually sweet, boyish grin was replaced with something else— something a bit wistful, a bit hungry.

“God,” he sighed, and you watched the camera shift slightly again in a rhythm. “That’s my girl.”

Your breath caught in your throat momentarily. Heat pooled in your face and your lower belly. For some reason, this felt a bit taboo, watching what you could see of his bare shoulder and arm move and flex in such an obvious way. “Peter, are you—“

“Yeah,” he interrupted you, a little gruff. Alone in your shared bed, he pumped himself just behind where he held his phone, his gaze washing over you on the screen. “Yeah, ‘s that okay, baby?” His voice had that husky quality he tended to get during those late night fucks, where both of you were half asleep but your bodies were responding to each other on their own. He’d whisper praise against your neck between grumbled curses as he rutted against you from behind, melded together under the blankets.

A deep ache settled between your legs. ‘s that okay, baby?

Facing the phone again, you let the water run over you and chase the bubbles down the drain. “Yeah, that’s okay,” you replied softly. Your back hit the cool tile as you leaned back. “Just couldn’t wait until I got home?” Silky smooth, your hand trailed down to your thigh, which Peter immediately took note of.

“No,” Peter replied quickly. “No, I couldn’t. I’ve— do you know how hard it is to smell you everywhere, knowing you’re not here?” He squeezed his length from the base, working up to his leaking tip as he groaned lightly. “I feel like I can smell your shampoo just watching you right now. And I can feel your skin… you’re always so soft, sweetheart.”

One of your feet settled on the edge of the tub. Your hand eased its way up your slickened thigh to tease through your folds, head tilted back against the speckled tile behind you. Peter’s heightened senses were as much of a blessing as they were a curse, you knew that all too well. It wasn’t hard to imagine your boyfriend rutting into his own hand, maybe a shirt of yours (or a pair of panties, if he was feeling particularly shameless) pressed to his nose. “Let me see you,” you said, your middle finger slipping between your lips to tease your sensitive bud.

Peter obliged immediately. He shifted the phone further, letting his cock gripped in his hand into view. It didn’t matter how long you’d been together, or how many times you’d been intimate already— you still felt a rush seeing Peter like this. Almost automatically, there was a rhythm between you two. Peter worked up and down his shaft, occasionally squeezing his leaky tip, the beads of pre smearing over his velvety flushed skin. You could see the way his chest rose and fell unsteadily. It mirrored your own clipped breaths. The steam from the shower was making it even harder to get enough air, but you didn’t care. This moment between you two felt intense in a new sort of way, a spark lit under you as you watched each other through the screens.

A sheen of sweat built on your brow. Your legs were starting to feel a bit weak, your fingers swirling increasingly sloppy circles over your clit. “How many times have you jerked off thinking about me while I’ve been gone?” you found yourself blurting out thoughtlessly.

He groaned at the words that slipped from your mouth. “Too many,” Peter said, his eyes fluttering shut. “The longest two weeks of my life.”

“Poor baby,” a grin grew on your face, head tilted to the side as you watched him. Your fingers slipped and glided over your skin— you never thought you’d be so turned on from something like this. Intimacy and sex with Peter wasn’t vanilla, but this experience was definitely something unique for the both of you. “I bet you got hard before I even got in the shower,” you teased, “probably sitting there, aching, just thinking about it.”

“Fuck,” Peter hissed under his breath. His rhythm faltered for a moment, the veins in his hands raising even more under his skin. “I’m— I’m not gonna last if you keep talking like that, babe,” he clenched his jaw.

He opened his eyes in time to watch you let out a soft moan, the sound bouncing off the shower walls a little too well. He couldn’t help the shaky exhale that followed. “That’s okay,” you breathed, “I wanna watch you come anyway.” Your hips rocked into your hand, and Peter watched your body roll deliciously against itself. Another hiss, fighting to keep his eyes open and locked onto his phone screen.

The air in your woefully empty apartment felt too thick all of a sudden. “You wanna watch me?” His breath hitched in his throat, a bit desperate to keep hearing you. The dirty talk did him in every time. A building tension tightened his lower belly, his muscles clenching in anticipation. Peter quickened his pace. His hand pumped and squeezed his poor swollen cock and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“I love watching you… you look so pretty, and you always make the best noises,” your unoccupied hand glided up your damp body to cup your tit, a finger flicking over your hardened nipple. “I can tell you’re close. That’s okay, baby. Can you come for me?”

“God,” Peter groaned again, sucking in a deep breath from his nose.

You rubbed your clit quickly in a swiping motion, breathing heavier and heavier in the thickening steam. “Go ahead, baby, just let go,” you were so close to teetering on your own edge, the soft instruction bordering on a whine, “please come for me.”

The camera shook slightly. Peter’s gaze turned a bit hazy, but he managed to keep his eye on you, brows furrowed into a pinched look of bliss. A few strangled curses jumped out between his moans, the most heady and intoxicating sound. You watched with a pounding heart as Peter’s hand stilled near his tip, his body writhing a little, lean muscles flexing in the dim light. He shot most of his load onto his abdomen, and you wished you had a closer look— you could see the last dribbles wetting his fist, glistening from the glow of his phone, milking his dick and riding out the end of his orgasm.

Your own peak wasn’t far behind. Peter was still trying to catch his breath when you let out your own symphony of sounds and light gasps. Even over the static hum of the shower, you tried to contain yourself, swallowing down the loudest and most insistent whimpers and whines the best you could. Your legs shook. They felt incredibly heavy and weightless all at the same time.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Peter said, low and breathy, as he watched you hump against your own hand.

Head rolled back against the shower tile, the building ache and tension snapped in your lower belly, and you sucked in a sharp gasp. The orgasm came crashing over you, hot and all-encompassing. Your fingers couldn’t seem to move fast enough, not the way Peter’s could whenever he held you against him in bed and kissed your temple while you came on his hand. That’s all you could think about as your eyes squeezed shut— the feeling of Peter’s hands on you, the sound of his voice, the peaks and valleys of his abs coated in his own come, right now, because he missed you and he couldn’t help himself—

“Christ,” you breathed, hand slowing to a lazy pace, your heart loud and insistent in your ears. Your clit slowly throbbed with an echo heartbeat.

It was quiet for a moment, your eyes still closed and your head pressed against the cool wall. Sweat slicked your semi-damp hair to your forehead and the bathroom suddenly felt so muggy.

“You did so good, babe. Jesus. Why haven’t we done anything like that before?”

A tired sort of laugh seeped out of you and you dropped your leg. You’d gotten so tensed up in that position without realizing it— an ache settled in your thighs. “Because we’ve never been apart like this before,” you mused.

Peter shuffled around, the camera now pointing up at the ceiling with his phone laying on the bed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I’m definitely not eager for you to leave like this again,” he sounded a bit distant through the speaker, and you figured he’d gone to clean himself up. All the excitement left you feeling a strange mix of dirty and clean, sweaty and hot but still blanketed in the smell of all of your sweet bath scents. You rinsed yourself off and cut the water by the time Peter and picked up his phone again, his big brown eyes sleepy on the screen.

He watched you dry yourself off. He was laid down again, cheek smushed against his pillow.

“You’re staring, Peter,” you didn’t even have to look up to know for sure.

“I can’t help that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

A smile bloomed on your tired face. “You’re in your post-nut mushiness. It’s not fair that I’m not there for it.”

“No,” Peter rolled over in bed, taking you with him on the phone, “but you’re kind of here, with me. I know you’re exhausted, but maybe we can just… lay like this, for a while.”

So you did.

You kept Peter on FaceTime while you got dressed, drank some water, and laid down in the impossibly soft hotel bed. He was propped up next to you, and it almost felt like he was there, laying on the same side he slept in at home.

“Did you say goodnight to the cats for me?”

“I do, every night.”

“Do they say anything back?”

“Y’know, the usual,” Peter yawned, “fuck off, wait, no, I love you, can you put more food in my bowl?”

You gave a sleepy little laugh in response, cut off by a yawn, and Peter smiled warmly through the screen. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[chaconnehoonie]

Obsession-(follow up) L.HS

✶ Heeseung X Fem! Reader

->This is a follow up to the first part, but you may read it alone if you please, reading the first part is just recommended to get the full story.

Synopsis- Your relationship with Heeseung proves that sometimes you’re forced to make commitments and sacrifices for those you love.

WC: 3.4k

Warnings: toxic relationship, cursing, insecurity, derogatory terms, smut, angst

Smut warnings: dub-con(?), oral(m) somnophilia, kissing, unprotected sex, spanking, rough sex, orgasm denial

A/N: I know I posted the first part to this a while ago but I felt so disappointed with it that I wanted to write something to follow up with. I’m also terrible with my writing schedule so hopefully this will get me back in the game, enjoy!

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

Heeseung was trying to be a good boyfriend. Sure, there are moments where he frustrates you or makes you question your relationship. But relationships are all about making commitments, right?

You’re committed to Heeseung- of course you’ll do whatever it takes to be with him. You’ll put up with his mood swings or his trust issues, accepting that he may just be a naturally jealous person.

He makes it hard, though, as he’s too jealous sometimes. He always has trouble believing you only have eyes for him, whether it’s when a stranger is checking you out at a party or you’re being too close for his liking with your best friends—who just so happen to be guys.

God, you love your friends, but it’s clear that Heeseung doesn’t. You don’t expect him to, of course, however you expect him to accept your close bonds with all three of them. They were existent in your life before him, after all.

You can’t bring this up around him though, as he gets quiet each time, stuck in his thoughts and fears of you leaving him. Being the understanding girlfriend you are, you decided to show him just how special he is to you.

✶.

Heeseung sits alone on the couch in your living room, mindlessly scrolling through Netflix in search for new movies or series to start. Since the beginning of your relationship, you both decided on having movie nights every Friday; cuddling up on the couch together with a warm blanket and a plethora of snacks.

You haven’t come home yet, sending him a quick message to let him know you’d be stopping by a grocery store for snacks, then you’ll speed home to see him.

He sits there and waits, grabbing a bag of chips to munch on, watches trailers for new horror movies with stupid plots and terrible actors, then waits some more.

What’s taking you so long? It’s not like you would stand him up, it’s not like you can stand him up—he’s in your house, anyways. Maybe the checkout line is taking too long. Maybe you stopped to buy some alcohol too, or what if that’s what you were planning but forgot your ID in the car?

What if he’s actually going the wrong rout and you had gotten into an accident? Or decided you didn’t like him anymore and wanted to sneak off with someone else before seeing him tonight- “Baby?”

Heeseung jumps at the sound of your voice, quickly turning around to see you shutting the front door, hanging your keys and slipping off your shoes. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t even hear the front door opening.

Your face holds a concerned look, rounding the couch and placing your bags next to Heeseung before dropping to your knees in front of him. “You okay? What happened?” Your hands gently caressed his knees in hopes to comfort him, knowing he’s a sucker for physical touch.

He only shakes his head and pulls you to sit next to him. “Nothing, pretty. I just really missed you.” His voice sounds unsure, but you decided to accept his answer, knowing he hates being pushed to open up.

“I missed you too, cutie. I actually bought something I want to show you.” You peck his nose and his eyes light up in excitement. “I need to go prepare it in my room, but I’ll be back out before you know it.” You smile at him and he nods quickly. “I have to use the bathroom anyways. Perfect timing, I guess.”

You place a soft kiss on his upper lip before grabbing one of your bags and rushing upstairs while Heeseung makes his way to the bathroom. He takes a long look at himself, analyzing his features and taking note of how much better he’s been looking since he’s gotten with you. He’s taken care of himself more, focusing on eating healthier and getting haircuts more often, as well as doing some skincare and shaving his facial hair.

He really feels better with you, smiling to himself in the mirror when he realizes that he’s truly in love with you. He loves you—and he hopes you feel the same way.

After flushing the toilet and leaving the tap running for a minute, Heeseung makes his way out of the bathroom, pausing when he sees you wrapped up in your blanket, waiting for him on the couch.

Walking up hesitantly, he smiles anxiously at you. “What did you wanna-“ he’s cut off when you throw the blanket off of yourself, sat prettily with the most delicate lingerie adorning your body.

Black lace cups your breasts with thin straps hardly covering your shoulders, matching black lace panties sitting high and tight on your hips as the fat of your hips and butt jut out around the material.

Heeseung stands in front of you stiffly, mouth hung open and eyes locked on your figure. Siting up, you reach a hand towards his face and place it under his chin, gently forcing his jaw shut.

“Do you like it?” Your voice is soft and sultry, provoking him to finally touch you. He strokes your head, feeling your soft hair under his fingertips. He’s so in love with you— just that touch sends blood straight to the weight between his legs and he’s suddenly too weak to stand.

Sitting on the couch, he pulls you onto his lap without breaking eye contact. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle and cup his cheek, pulling him into a kiss that only lasts a second as he’s murmuring against your lips. “Yes- fuck, yes.”

You gasp when he pinches one of your nipples through your thin lacy bra. Pushing his tongue into your mouth, he plays with your own in a mess of drool and moans, all while rocking your hips against his.

He pulls away to moan loudly, resting his head on the back of the couch. “I’m glad you like it.” You kiss his neck, licking his jaw slowly before sucking a mark into his skin.

“The boys helped me pick it out.”

His eyes shoot open at this, quickly sitting up and looking you in the eyes. “The boys?” He furrows his brows, confused, but also hurt. You let the boys-Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon, not only see you in lingerie but pick it out? For your boyfriend to see later on?

“What do you mean they helped you pick it out? Like you went to the store together and let them chose it? They seen you in it?” He sounds like he’s going to cry, voice cracking but there’s also a hint of anger.

You nod, eyes wide and worried. “Well, yes. I asked for their opinions because they’re also guys, you know? I thought that’d be the best way to figure out what you’d like…” you trail off as you take note of the irritation appearing on his face.

He finds no point in complaining, no reason to explain why he’s so hurt. Instead, he pushes you off of his lap rather harshly and you land on the soft cushions with a quiet ‘oof’. Of course he didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but with the way he stomps to the front door and angrily grabs his keys, slamming the door shut as he leaves, you can’t help but tear up at his angry demeanor.

Was he really that upset? Over your friends helping pick out a gift, for him? Sure, maybe you didn’t have to wear the lingerie while showing them but Heeseung should know by now that your relationship with your friends is nothing more than platonic.

Deciding you’re too heart broken after being left so alone and exposed, you head to bed early. Well, not exactly early if 11pm was anything to go by, definitely too late for Heeseung to randomly leave and expect you not to worry, but early enough for you to sleep off the mental pain and end up in a better mood in the morning.

✶.

You wake up as an odd weight hits your cheek, repeatedly tapping on your face as you feel the warmth radiating onto your skin. Your eyes open slowly, blinking a few times to fully wake yourself up.

It’s still dark, but you can make out the silhouette of someone standing uncomfortably close to you. Taking in a sharp breath, you turn to your alarm clock and note that it’s around 2am, quickly reaching to turn on the bedside lamp.

The light flickers on and Heeseung groans, quickly reaching his own hand to switch it back off. While he does that, you notice the way he’s fully clothed, save for his hard-on that’s currently face-to-face with you, peeking out from above his sweatpants.

“What-“ you’re cut off as he places a finger upon your lips, slipping it between them and into your mouth to tug your jaw open. You can’t tell what he’s doing with the lights off, but you don’t wonder for long as you suddenly feel his tip entering your mouth, sliding against your tongue.

You’re stiff, laying there in shock as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure, biting his lip with a groan. Heeseung has grown to be more comfortable around you, no longer trying to impress you in order to get you to like him, yet instead trying to impress you to get you to keep liking him—always outdoing himself to prove he’s worth your love.

However, he’s still shy at times, especially intimate times, so seeing him fully take control of you, take advantage of your sleeping figure, is new to you. It’s kind of arousing, but after what happened earlier you just can’t get yourself to enjoy it.

Especially with the way he grips the back of your head and shoves himself fully into your throat, holding you there until you gag and drool onto the ground. The position is awkward; he’s standing in front of you while you’re laying on your side, head hovering off the bed just enough to miss the sheets as your spit strings onto the wooden floor.

He lets out a deep moan, mumbling to himself about how wet and warm your mouth is, but not directly speaking to you. How could he speak to you after what you pulled earlier? Why would you deserve praise for going out and prancing around like that with your friends, basically slutting yourself out for them?

What you do deserve is the harsh thrusts of his hips as he fucks your mouth, pulling your hair harshly as he keeps your head in place while his cock suffocates you. You try to breathe through your nose, but you only choke and whine around him as tears blur your vision, not like you can see much in the dark, anyways.

He groans louder, thrusts harder, grips harder, all while you lay there and take it. He lets out a particularly loud moan as he pulls your head towards him, shoving your face far enough to touch your nose to his pubic bone, and then he’s cumming down your throat.

His hips are still as he twirls strands of your hair between his fingers, holding you in place as his release fills your mouth.

Finally pulling out, he breathes heavily before stuffing himself back into his sweats. He makes his way to the bathroom, situating himself before coming back to bed and wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close enough to be his little spoon. It confuses you, but you’d rather have this than have him stay angry at you.

“Thank you, pretty.”

✶.

The next day goes by smoothly, Heeseung acts completely normal when he goes to work for a couple hours, then coming home as you prepare lunch.

You’re glad he has work early enough for him to be done by the afternoon, but sometimes you wish he could stay in bed with you just a little longer than leaving at 5am, but at least he gets to come back at 1pm and spend the rest of the day how he pleases. You quickly learn though, that today he decides to use the day as he pleases by pleasing himself.

As you put ramen to boil and chop vegetables, humming a random song to yourself, you hear the front door shut. It doesn’t slam, so you know Heeseung isn’t angry, at least not enough to show it.

He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your waist and you smile, turning around for a kiss. He grips your chin, turning your face back to the counter and speaks lowly in your ear. “Keep chopping.” His voice is stern and you know he’s serious.

You hesitantly pick up the knife again, slowly cutting the vegetables as he pulls down your pants, panties going along with them, leaving you bare and exposed for him. It was only last night he was using you for himself, maybe he’s repaying the favor?

That idea is quickly shut down as you feel his tip prodding at your not very wet entrance, wincing at the stretch of the head doing its best to make its way between your folds. Of course you’ve both have had sex without foreplay before, but that was after a while of kissing and obvious arousal.

This time, he fills you up dry with only his precum coating your walls. You whine at the pain, stepping closer to the counter in an attempt to get away from him, but he only manhandles you back towards him.

Pulling out to the tip, he gives you a second to breathe before he pushes himself all the way back in, continuing with rough thrusts. He lands a loud slap to your ass, leaning forward and biting onto your shoulder. You cry out in pain, trying to take his cock the best you can while he uses you once again.

He’s fucking you, skin to skin, so that must mean he’s not upset anymore. You try to convince yourself as he thrusts harder, hands bruising your waist and hips as his knuckles turn white from holding you so tight.

He’s more vocal this time, moaning into your ear as you bounce between him and the counter top, knife now laying further away from you and vegetables roll off the counter, landing with a hard thud on the floor.

You moan as he picks up the pace almost inhumanly fast, wet sounds showing signs that you’re finally aroused enough, the slide of his cock against your walls is no longer painful.

He pushes your upper half forward more, fully bending you over the counter as he lands a harsh slap against your ass, echoing through the kitchen along with your high pitched moans.

His thighs slap against the back of your own, wet and covered in slick as you can’t hold back the squelching noises your pussy makes while being stuffed full.

“Oh God, Hee…” You whine but he’s tired of hearing you, placing his palm over your mouth to muffle your moans. “I don’t wanna hear it.” This confuses you, mainly because he’s always loved hearing your noises—proof that he’s pleasing you right. But now, he suddenly doesn’t want to hear them? Going as far as covering your mouth to shut you up?

Even with this hurt side of you, the pleasure is undeniable and before you can process it, you’re close to orgasm as Heeseung lands another harsh slap against your ass.

“Hee-baby, I’m gonna cum!” You pant heavily, inhaling a deep breath in preparation for your orgasm, only for it to be taken away from you. “No you’re not.” Heeseung slides his wet cock out of you, instead spreading your ass and pushing himself between your cheeks.

You scoff, now frustrated and in pain, wondering if this is what blue balls must feel like. You try to reach back and slide him back in, but he grips your wrist, pulling both of your arms back so your cheek lands harshly onto the counter top. Wincing, tears start pricking your eyes and you try to squirm away from him.

“Not letting you…d-don’t deserve to cum.” He grits through his teeth, pushing your butt cheeks together tightly as he thrusts, still keeping his fast pace.

Leaning forward, he rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, finally releasing as ropes of cum spurt out of his tip, landing across your back and staining your shirt, some reaching your hair to find in a sticky mess later.

You’re both panting, catching your breaths after whatever kind of rough, angry sex session that was. Still confused, you try to turn around, calling out to your quiet boyfriend. “Heeseung…” your voice is soft and comforting, and as much as he wants to accept it, he just keeps you turned around.

“Just- don’t.” That’s all he says before tucking himself back into his jeans and walking upstairs. The bathroom door shuts, still not slamming, but you can now tell that he is definitely still angry at you.

✶.

“So, what? He’s upset that we helped you and now you guys are having hot steamy hate sex?” Jake laughs to himself, taking a bowl of ramen from Sunghoon. A bowl of ramen you cooked for Heeseung.

You sigh, playing with your own ramen as you push it around the bowl with your chopsticks. “Yeah…I was cooking this when he came home and he just…did that.” You trail off at the end, not wanting to go into detail because no matter how good it felt, you were still hurt.

“Waitwaitwait.” Jay mutters with his mouth full, swallowing harshly before speaking again. “This ramen doesn’t have a special ingredient, right? His cum shot didn’t fly into here and now I’m consuming his babies?”

“Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Come on- I’m trying to eat here!”

“You’re actually disgusting.”

Sunghoon gags as he imagines the scene playing out, downing his glass of water to calm himself. You pat him on the back as he keeps gagging, mainly to piss off Jay who now regrets what he said.

“Okay, Hoon. You can stop now, I get it.” Jay rolls his eyes, picking up his beer bottle and taking a sip while sending glares towards his friend.

Your face drops to your palms, sighing again as you think about these past two days. “He left like an hour before I invited you guys over.” You speak up, eyes teary as you bite your lip. “He didn’t eat…didn’t say goodbye…he just left.” You break down, a sob escaping your lips at the thought of your boyfriend leaving you so alone and embarrassed.

“Do you know what this means?” Sunghoon places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly to ease your tension. You shake your head no, confused as to what he’s implying.

He sighs, looking between Jake and Jay, then back at you. “This means you’re going to have to choose.” Your eyes widen, shaking your head more aggressively now.

“What do you mean choose?” You can’t believe they’d recommend something like this. “You know, choose if you want to stay with him. Let him treat you like that, let him get away with those things.”

He grabs your hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Or you can choose to stay with us. Keep being our friend, let us save you from this disaster.” His words hurt, but you know they must be true. “He just…” you inhale a shaky breath, “He just needs time. We’ll figure something out.”

Yeah, that’ll fix it. You’ll figure out a way to keep Heeseung happy and stay close to your best friends. Hopefully, without cutting any ties or creating an awkward atmosphere. But you’ll do whatever it takes to keep each of your boys happy.

[unfgvien]

secret love fling [Seth rollins]

pairing - Seth rollins x reader

summary - Seth Rollins invited you to support him on Monday Night Raw, despite wanting to keep your relationship quiet. you went anyways, you bumped into a few of his friends and you passed yourself off as Seths best friend, you cheered the loudest for him.

word count - 1.1k

The excitement buzzed in the air as the first night of Monday Night Raw on Netflix approached. Fans were eager, anticipation running high. In the center of it all were the wrestlers preparing for their big night. Among them was Seth Rollins, the charismatic star of wrestling, known for his amazing skills and captivating personality. But tonight was different for Seth; he wasn’t just fighting for the crowd. He wanted you there to support him.

You had been friends with Seth for a long time, but your friendship had turned into something more. However, the world of wrestling was chaotic. You worried that if people knew about your relationship, it would put both of you under intense scrutiny. Seth, on the other hand, seemed confident. He told you not to worry and assured you that nobody would find out.

“Please, just come,” Seth said, his brown eyes shining with determination. “I need you to cheer for me. It’s going to be epic! ”

You looked around the busy locker room, filled with wrestlers preparing for the show. The air was thick with energy and loud music blared from somewhere nearby. You could smell the sweat and excitement. It was hard for you to imagine being seen with Seth when fans were so closely watching every little detail.

“I don’t want people to find out,” you replied, biting your lip nervously.

“Trust me, nobody will notice,” he insisted. “Just a quick visit. You can leave right after my match. It’ll be fine. ”

His passion was contagious, and after some hesitation, you finally agreed. You figured that maybe just a little support wouldn’t be too risky. Besides, seeing Seth in the ring, doing what he loved, was something you didn’t want to miss. So, you made your way to the arena.

The massive venue was gleaming under the lights. Fans filled the seats, waving signs and wearing T-shirts of their favorite wrestlers. Your heart pounded as you walked through the crowded area. You took a seat in the middle section, trying to blend in. A wave of excitement and nerves washed over you. As the announcer's voice echoed through the arena, you spotted Seth backstage, pacing and warming up. He looked focused, his eyes set on the ring.

The match began with a bang. The crowd roared as the lights dimmed, and the cameras started rolling. Seth’s entrance music blasted through the speakers, and the audience erupted with cheers. You couldn’t help but feel proud as you watched him enter, charismatic and full of energy.

The match was against CM Punk, a fierce competitor known for his sharp wit and incredible moves. The two men squared off, and you could feel the tension in the air. With each slam and hold, the crowd reacted with gasps and cheers, but all you could focus on was Seth. He fought fiercely, using every ounce of strength he had.

As Seth grappled with his opponent, you found yourself cheering loudly without thinking. “Let’s go, Seth! ” you shouted, your voice blending in with the crowd. For a moment, the world outside faded, and all that mattered was his performance and the passion he exuded in the ring.

But then, something surprising happened. Midway through the match, CM Punk got the upper hand and landed a brutal move on Seth. The moment felt heavy. You gasped, your heart skipping a beat. Watching Seth struggling under Punk’s pressure made your stomach twist with worry. He had fought so hard, and now he was in a vulnerable position.

You felt the crowd’s energy shift. People were gasping, and some fans even began to boo. You clenched your fists, hoping that Seth would find a way to turn the match around. In the middle of the struggle, your eyes met his. Despite the pain, he managed to smile at you, as if reassuring you that he could handle it. That spark made your heart flutter, reminding you why you cared for him so much.

As the match continued, Seth dug deep. He fought back with everything he had, the audience becoming more and more engaged. He managed to break free from Punk’s grip and swung back with an amazing move that sent Punk to the mat. The crowd exploded with cheers, and you could feel the energy rising around you.

“Come on, Seth! You can do it! ” you shouted, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. Your voice merged with thousands of others, all cheering for their favorite wrestler. This time he truly heard you, and it fueled his drive even more.

In the final moments of the match, you held your breath. Seth executed a stunning finishing move, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The referee slid to the mat to count. One… Two… Three! The bell rang, and the audience erupted into cheers as Seth stood victorious, arms raised high above his head.

“I did it! ” Seth shouted, looking into the crowd, his eyes shining. He took a moment to soak in the cheers before he scanned the audience. When his gaze landed on you, the joy on his face melted into something warmer. A brief connection that felt like it was just for you.

After the match, the arena buzzed with excitement. Fans were still celebrating, chanting Seth’s name. You felt a rush of happiness but also a pang of worry. What if people realized who you were? You needed to be careful.

In the backstage area, you waited for him. As soon as the match ended, Seth rushed backstage, still full of energy. He spotted you and his face lit up even more. “You came! ” he exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t miss it,” you replied, feeling giddy. “You were amazing! ”

“Did you see that last move? ” he grinned, his excitement contagious. “I couldn’t have done it without you cheering for me. ”

Just then, a few of Seth’s friends from the wrestling world, like Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns, walked over, clearly in high spirits from the thrilling event. They congratulated Seth, each wanting to share in his victory.

“Who’s your friend? ” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow, glancing at you with curiosity.

You felt your hands go cold. Panic arose in your chest, but Seth stepped forward confidently. “This is someone special to me,” he said, and though he didn’t specify, the way he smiled at you left no doubt in your heart.

You and Seth exchanged glances as the laughter and chatter of the guys faded into the background. For this moment, nothing else mattered. You felt proud, joyful, and yes, still a little nervous. But with Seth by your side and the crowd still cheering his name, maybe this relationship wasn’t such a big secret after all.

In that moment, you decided that maybe taking a chance was worth the risk. Together, with laughter, excitement, and the thrill of wrestling, you had something special worth celebrating. The world of wrestling might be a place of chaos, but here, in this very moment, you felt at home. And for Seth, you would always cheer the loudest.

DO NOT TRANSLATE, COPY PUBLISH OR EDIT MY WORKS, I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORKS BEING PUBLISHED ON ANY 3RD PARTY WEBSITE. © bunbun 2025 - 2027🖇️ ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[paperclip-skz]

Hyunjin's Love and Leashes ( part 4 ) Office Blowout

fem*Reader x Hyunjin

*WARNING*

WC: 2.9k

Contains: mentions of sexual content, and BDSM references, second hand embarrassment, this is going to be a lot of parts and little parts to it (there is a cliffhanger at the end)

Also note: This story is HEAVLY influenced by the Netflix movie Love and Leashes. This is just "my" version of it, you could say. I am writing to write and I recommend you watch Love and Leashes. *** This is not an original idea, this IS INSPIRED BY A MOVIE/ANIME**

****

part 1 part 2 part 3

***

Month 2

2 months before the contract ends

In the weeks that followed, you let your imagination run wild with every session. 

You continued your research to be more prepared, which led you to the candles you found online. They were safe and specifically designed for burning on the skin. 

You booked another room in another hotel and let him rest in the grand bathtub in the bathroom. Lit candles were placed around every corner, lighting the room dimly as Hyunjin rested peacefully. He let his whole body relax, his eyes closed, and his heart steady. You walked over with your special candle in hand and traced your finger down the spine of his back. His muscles contracted in anticipation, but when the first droplet of melted wax hit his skin, his back reacted like clouds, creating a storm. His hushed moans filled the air as you painted his skin.

Then, the following week, you decided that sensory play was the best play you both shared. You gathered objects that made his skin crawl with goosebumps. 

Ever since your last “session,” the only thing tying you two together besides work has been stolen glances and hidden commands.

You would hide commands at work, ensuring Hyunjin understood who was in control, even outside the playpen.

“Hyunjin, go grab me the schedule from my desk,” you would say, something completely hidden from everyone else, but the second you made any sort of demand, Hyunjin would sit up straight, a beautiful blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You could tell when he thought of that night, the night he traced his lips across your bare skin. You couldn’t deny that you thought of it, too,  almost every night. You could feel the faintness of his lips; you could imagine the hunger in his eyes…

“Y/N?” you snap back to the presentation before you. 

“Yes,” you say, clearly trying to act unbothered. 

“Umm, anyways, as I was saying,” the presentation continues, and you can hear Hyunjin smirk beside you. His cheeks are the faintest bit of pink, but his smile is mischievous. 

As the presentation goes on, you slowly lose interest. As words drag and sentences seem endless, you wonder when this meeting will end and how long you really have to be here. 

Hyunjin coughs beside you, and you immediately turn your head to look at him. That’s when you notice he’s wearing the glasses you gave him. He seems unbothered and oblivious, as if his body embodies calmness. However, when he adjusts his glasses slightly, his eyes glance toward you, almost as if he’s sending you a hidden message…and you understand instantly.

If anything has taught you about Hyunjin in the past few days and…sessions, it’s taught you how to read him. The difference lies in when he wants attention and when he wants to be dominated. Your spine straightens, and a devilish smirk spreads across your lips.

The presentation soon ends, but you have one last comment: “Thank you for these notes; I’ll get right on them, but I need to discuss something with Mr. Hwang. May we have the room, please?” You ask politely. As each member of your team begins to leave, everyone seems none the wiser. 

****************

He can’t explain why he did what he did. You both agreed that even when he needed your dominance in the workplace, it wouldn’t interrupt a meeting of any kind. So why did he give you the signal?  

Maybe because he was addicted to you, ever since that session where he grazed your skin, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And not just what other parts of your body he could graze, but just you. The way you scrunched your nose when you had a good meal. Or the way your laugh left your lips like a summer breeze. Or just your confidence in everything you did. He was falling, and he was falling fast. 

Once the last member of your team leaves, Hyunjin watches as you crane your head back to him with a wicked smile. “What did you need, pretty boy?” 

He’ll never admit it, but he secretly loves it when you call him that. Such a praising nickname said in such a degrading way; it made the tent in his pants tighten. “Y-you,” he stumbles. 

“Here?” you ask, still smiling. 

He nods his head, already at a loss for words. “Tsk tsk tsk,” you shake your head in mock disappointment, “when anyone could see you.” He didn’t miss the fact you said ‘you.’ Almost acting like you didn’t care to get caught, only thinking about his position in all this, his embarrassment. Why did that make his body want to sing? Want to explode with pent-up tension….. It was official: you were going to kill him, and he was going to have a big fat smile on his face when he died. 

“Answer me,” you demanded. 

He flinched at your sudden tone and stumbled out a shaky “yes.” 

He can see a flicker in your eyes, but you keep your confidence. 

“Be here after work. I need to teach you a lesson,” you say in the most addictive voice he thinks he’s ever heard. 

****( 4 hours later )

You made him flinch. You’ve never seen him flinch like that. Was your tone too strong? Maybe you shouldn’t have been so direct with him….

No. He asked for you to be direct and practically control him. Besides, if he were really scared, he would have said so. 

Still, doubts cloud your mind as your and everyone’s shifts come to an end. “Hey,” one of your coworkers pokes their head in through your office door, “me and some others are going for drinks afterward. Wanna come?” 

“Nah, can’t,” you say. “Already got plans,” you smile kindly. If they only knew your ‘plans’ included something much more sinister. 

They nodded out the door and headed for the elevators, where the last of your team had separated. You had told Hyunjin to return to the meeting room after work, so when you walked in and saw Hyunjin sitting in the same chair in the same spot as before, you weren’t surprised.

You walk into the meeting room, your body in a rush of warmth. 

*********

“You needed me. In the middle of a meeting. Why?” Your voice is cold, cold as ice that pierces the silence of the room. 

His eyes can’t meet yours. He’s so ashamed of his thoughts he can’t bear to look at you. “Why!” you raise your voice slightly, and he snaps his eyes to yours. 

“I-I—” he stutters. How does he explain? He simply can’t. If he did, he would say that he is helplessly falling in love with the woman he asked to be his dominant, but the thought alone makes his stomach turn. 

“You what?” you say, your brows pulling in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he’s defeated. Words are lost, and his head hangs low. “I- I don’t know what came over me. I got jealous and needy and I don’t know. I’m sorry.”  

A pause. A breath of silence fills the air, his words hanging like bait. “Take off your belt.” Blood rushes to his ears, his whole face red and heated. 

“Wha-”

“Do you trust me?” Your voice drips like honey, smooth and enticing.

“Yes,” he breathes, a hint of anticipation in his tone. Deliberately, he removes his belt, the leather sliding through the hoops of his dress pants with a tantalizing slowness. You snatch the thick material from his hands, your fingers brushing against his skin as you stretch it across your palm.

“Stand there,” you command, pointing to the edge of the table, your eyes locking onto his.

Hyunjin moves to obey, leaning against the table with his palms gripping the edge. He casts a quick glance at you, catching the sight of your wet lips and the frantic spark in your eyes, but your posture remains unwavering.

The air thickens with tension, and a heartbeat of silence extends before you raise the belt high above your head. You bring it down against the table with a swift motion, the crack echoing like a thunderclap. He flinches, the sound electrifying, igniting a thrilling rush that races down his spine. It's a feeling he never knew he craved, each sharp sound pulling him deeper into the moment, hungry for the next taste of exhilaration.

“Was that so bad?” your voice lingers in the air, wrapping around him like silk. His chest rises and falls with heavy, intoxicating breaths.

His gaze locks onto yours, and you find yourself holding your breath. The vibrant spark in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a smoldering darkness that sends a shiver down your spine and ignites something deep within.

Hyunjin straightens, a predatory grace in his movements, his knuckles gripping the edge of the table, white with need. “Do it again,” he whispers, each word dripping with desire.

He sits there. And he takes his punishment, letting the slash of his belt pierce the air from how you hit it on the counter. It makes him flinch, but it also sends a wave of electricity through his body, something he can’t describe, something he’s never felt before. 

He’s never trusted anyone so much in his life. Someone he would trust not to hurt him but tiptoe just above the edge of pain. 

“Do you really think I would do this to just anyone?” you scream. 

And then you stop. The chilling air freezes in place, and the silence is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You take a careful step towards him. He shuts his eyes so tightly that tears begin to build, but he refuses to let them fall, not yet. 

He can hear your body shuffle, and then a delicate hand is placed on his cheek. He keeps his eyes closed but leans into the touch, grazing his rosy cheeks. And that is when he feels it. Plush lips pressing against his in a kiss he can barely register. It's so soft he can barely feel it. You were so gentle that he almost didn’t kiss you back. 

He struggles to let go of the table, but his body stays still, unwilling to reach for you. Instead, his lips press forward, seeking a deeper kiss. He pours his heart and soul into every movement, and tears stream down his cheeks. You gently bring him closer, resting your forehead against his while your thumbs tenderly wipe away his tears.

The belt was long forgotten on the ground. You both stay their in silence, Hyunjin studying every breath you release, roses. He smelt those same roses. His eyes closed as he breathed deeply, his lungs swelled with that familiar smell and a smile danced along his lips. “Are you okay?” you said. Your voice shaky, that recent dominate tone gone and forgotten and replaced by something gentle, careful.

“So much better than okay” he replies, his hands finally leaving the edge of the table and grabbing hold of your waist. 

“Don’t worry I just left it in here” a voice call out beyond the meeting room door. 

Both you and Hyunjin’s eyes snap to the door…. Shit.

*****

Shit. Shit .Shit. 

No one. No one can see you like this. Panic courses through your veins like ice water, and every heartbeat feels like a silent drumroll of dread pounding against your ribcage. Hyunjin, ever perceptive, mirrors the raw panic etched across your face, his eyes wide and glistening with fear.

Footsteps thud ominously behind the door, each echo reverberating through the air like a countdown to impending doom. Your breath hitches in your throat as you sense the crushing weight of your situation pressing down on you. It’s only moments before the jingle of the doorknob slices through the tense silence, a chilling prelude to what’s about to unfold. “What do we do?” Hyunjin whispers, his voice trembling with pure horror.

Your lips part in a silent gasp, and your eyes widen as they dart around the cramped room, searching for a way out that isn’t there. The air is heavy and suffocating, thick with the scent of fear and desperation. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach when the doorknob rattles, sending a fresh wave of panic surging through you. In a frantic rush, you grab the collar of Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling him down toward the cold, unforgiving floor. You collapse with him, your pulse racing like a wild drum.

“Ah, here it is,” a voice calls from just beyond the door, dripping with malice. Instinctively, you bite down hard on your lip to suppress a whimper, and with a surge of urgency, you slam your hand over Hyunjin’s mouth, stifling any sound that could betray your hiding place.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” the voice continues, each word sending icy tendrils of fear spiraling through you. You hear the door click shut, sealing off the fleeting moment of hope. In that instant, the tension in the room is palpable. Both of you release a shuddering breath, but the momentary relief is short-lived as reality crashes back in. 

Memories race to the front of your mind like a gun shooting into the abyss. You brace yourself on your hands above Hyunjin. His cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, but no matter how delicate he looks, no matter how badly you want to feel his lips against yours again. This has all gone far enough. You get up quickly, heart racing as you straighten your outfit and smooth down your hair. Hyunjin mirrors you, but he’s a mess—his outfit is disheveled, his hair tousled, and the worry in his eyes is palpable. He’s terrified you’ll leave, and it grips you.

“I should go. It’s getting late,” you say, avoiding his gaze, the weight of his stare making it hard to breathe.

“Wait, please,” he pleads, reaching for your arm, but you’re already striding toward the door. Each echo of your heels feels like a countdown.

“Y/N, please,” he calls out, urgency lacing his voice.

You hit the elevator button, keeping your eyes fixed forward. You might lose your resolve completely if you dare meet those crystalline eyes again.

“Y/N, look at me, please.” His voice is laced with desperation, tearing at your heart. “Tell me that kiss didn’t scare you away.”

The elevator dings open, and you step inside, spinning around to press the button that seals you both in this small space. Hyunjin slips in right after you, and for a split second, you notice how out of place his tie is and how ruffled his shirt looks. It sends a jolt through you—a mix of desire and fear twisting in your belly.

As the doors close, he stands so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. “Y/N…” His breathy voice calls to you, normally a melody you’d savor, but now it feels like a siren’s song pulling you deeper into chaos. You both crossed a line, and that knowledge is suffocating. The contract may have left room for this kind of touch, but your own mental barriers were supposed to keep you safe from this kind of connection. 

“This is too dangerous; too much is at risk,” you think, panic gripping you. “Goddamn it, Y/N!” he suddenly exclaims, slamming the emergency stop button, bringing the elevator to an abrupt halt. He grabs your wrist, spinning you around until your back hits the wall, his arms pinning your wrists above your head.

The gasp escapes your lips, sharp and raw—so loud it could shatter glass. The roles reversed have your head spinning out of control. 

“Will you please look at me?” You can’t look away. You're stunned to silence. Your chest is heaving. 

“You- your,” he stumbles. His eyes are frantic, searching yours for something, anything that screams he crossed the line, but he doesn’t see it. He only sees a cocktail of lust and shock.

“I’m being dominated,” you let out in a whisper. You both giggle, but he makes no move to remove your wrists. Hyunjin’s eyes dart to your lips and up to your eyes quickly. 

“Tell me that kiss didn’t scare you away,” his voice low to your ear, but his eyes hold an intensity that makes your heart swell. “It didn’t scare me,” you manage to reply, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. “I just—” The rest falters on your lips, caught in the heat of the moment. You glance up at the ceiling, seeking answers in the shadows above, but nothing comes. Biting your lip, you feel the thrill of vulnerability as you expose your neck, a silent invitation that hangs between you.

As if something urged him, Hyunjin leans forward. His lips smother your neck, and his teeth and tongue dance across your skin. A moan escapes you. Never would you have imagined Hyunjijn taking control in a situation like this. Taking the initiative like he would on any given day, but not with you. He always reserved his commanding side for the office, leaving the gentle, submissive side to you. 

This was different. His kisses felt desperate and needed as if he were communicating a secret message with every kiss. 

In that moment, you don’t think or want to think. All you crave is to feel—every desperate swipe of his tongue, every pleading caress of his lips. 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, and for a fleeting second, his confidence wavers. He pulls away, his eyes shimmering with uncertainty. 

“Don’t leave,” he pleads, his voice thick with urgency. Those two words crumble your last defenses, unleashing a torrent of emotions that threaten to drown you, plunging you into a chaos you know is dangerous. 

“I won’t,” you promise, though your heart races with fear and longing. 

His smile is a lifeline, reaching his ears as he crashes his lips against yours, sealing this moment in desperation. “Come with me,” he urges, and your brow furrows in confusion. “Come home with me.”

….

[cutecatlov3r]

"𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

kenma kozume x reader (fem)

some drabbles on your rivals to lovers relationship with kenma !

words: 1.4k

warnings/tw: all characters are 18+, college AU(?), mean! kenma, enemies to lovers, and some suggestive themes.

a/n: I just needed to write about kenma being mean to you and you being mean back, if you want I can make a smut version as well... heavily inspired by the Netflix series "The Beef", made me cry sm . like, comment, re-blog ily ! don't copy my work . not proofread .

★ As soon as he met you he despised you . He couldn't stand the sound of your annoying ass voice, all he wanted was to sit in peace . Usually he doesn't mind being around loud people but you... You pissed him off for some reason, he never wanted to be around you.

"I don't think Kenma likes me..." you whispered in Kuroo's ear. You started to sense Kenma rolling his eyes at you and scoffing every time you spoke. He annoyed you, if he had something to say, you wanted him to say it to your face .

It was so obvious you were talking about Kenma, he sat in front of you and Kuroo. You talked so loud, you couldn't even whisper silently, it irked Kenma even more.

"You're fine Y/n, everyone loves you," Kuroo reassured, patting your back, gently.

Kenma furrowed his eyebrows as he played his game. Yeah right, he can't even stand you. He would never be able to like someone so childish and annoying...

★ He hates the fact that all of his friends adored you. He knows damn well they only like you because you are somewhat attractive. He knows what you are thinking when you show up to their practices in skirts and tank tops, he knows that you're just there because you're a slut .

"Stop distracting our team, just get out of here... We don't want you here anyway," Kenma mumbled, sweat dripping from his forehead.

To be fair, you were kind of distracting Kuroo and Lev by talking to them whenever they got the chance to speak with you. But still! It infuriated you that Kenma worded it like that, it was rude!

"No need to be rude Kenma, I'm here to support my friends," you retorted, crossing your arms. you've about had it with him, you know he doesn't like you. And it pisses you off because you did nothing!

★ Kenma loathed the way his friends talk about you any chance they get. You are a cute girl, those boys just can't help themselves. Still, it makes Kenma frustrated.

"Y/n is so sweet, she made me some brownies today," Kuroo swooned. Kuroo had a little thing for you, you weren't aware of this but all of the boys knew.

"Oh yeah? Well she's planning to wear my jersey the next time we have a game," Yaku teased.

"She said she'll be cheering for me at the next game too. Only me," Lev added, punching Kuroo's shoulder playfully.

Kuroo started to visibly sulk.

"...I hate you guys... She won't be doing any of that, she's going to-"

"Can you guys please shut up? I'm tired of hearing about Y/n, that's all you guys ever talk about. It's annoying," Kenma said, his eyes glued to his phone.

★ Finally, you confronted him at a party in front of everyone. After that day, the two of you HATED each other, or so you thought. You could never see yourself being friends with him, ever.

"What the hell is your problem?! You spilled that drink on me on purpose!" you yelled, very angry at the situation. You were embarrassed, everyone saw, it made you feel like crying. You had issues when it came to having everyone pay attention to you. You only liked being around your group of friends, not the whole damn party.

Kenma did spill his drink on you but it wasn't on purpose, it was a simple accident. He bumped into you as you were dancing with Kuroo and Bokuto, causing his cup to spill on your clothes. Still, he found it amusing when he saw you get angry at the situation, so he did not apologize or even acknowledge you until you called him out.

"I didn't do it on purpose so..."

"Yes you did!" you exclaimed, Kuroo held on to your shoulder, trying to calm you down.

"Let's calm down y/n," Kuroo tried to say.

"Stop trying to defend her idiotic ways. She can handle things herself, she's not a damn baby," Kenma commented, feeling more aggravated

Kenma pinched his eyebrows together.

"What did I ever do to you?! Seriously! You're always so mean for no reason! I knew you didn't like me but holy fuck, spilling a drink on me is a bit much!"

"So bothersome... I'm going to tell you this once. I. Did. Not. You fucking idi-"

Slap!

★ After the whole slap situation Kenma saw you in a different light kind of... He still hated your guts but he did notice how strong and confident you were. He couldn't help but admire some of the good aspects of you. So instead of dreading you, he openly speaks to you, only making rude comments of course. And you did not hold back either.

"What should I wear to Akaashi's party?" you asked, showing off a few outfits to Kuroo and Bokuto. The men sat on the floor, they loved listening to your rants and their favorite thing to do is tell you what to wear.

"The black skirt is cute," Bokuto said, pointing at the skirt in your left hand.

"No way! I like the dress, it always shows off your natural curves," Kuroo added, giving you a sly wink.

You giggled at their suggestions, Kuroo and Bokuto were your favorite friends.

Kenma groaned, bored of the conversation, he was dragged there because he is Kuroo's best friend so he was forced to go wherever he went.

"Do you have an issue?" you asked, sassily, placing your hands on your hips.

"Your voice is so damn annoying,"

You pretended to gasp, gripping your chest. "How mean Kenma!... Is what I would say if I cared. I didn't even want you here so please refrain from making any unnecessary comments,"

Kenma rolled his eyes at your bratty attitude.

★ You two banter all the time, some would consider it flirting but you never saw it in that way. Mutual disrespect for each other... Yeah, only mutual disrespect.

You whined, begging Kuroo not to leave you with Kenma. He was on his way to class, if he went to class, you'd be left with Kenma.

"Please Tetsuro!" you begged, giving him the best puppy eyes you could. "Stay! Skip class! Please!!"

Kuroo smiled, he loved seeing your bratty side, it excited him. "You know I can't n/n, just stay with Kenma, I'll be done in an hour,"

You groaned. Kenma cocked his eyebrow at you.

"Trust me, I'm not happy either," he mumbled, his hands shoved deep into his sweatshirt pockets.

"Oh of course you are Kenma! I know you're in love with me, you love being around me!" you cheered, sarcastically.

Kenma visibly gagged, causing Kuroo to laugh.

★ Eventually though... The two of you were forced to be around each other more, creating an unusual bond. You both don't directly hate each other, you just don't have a super stable friendship. But! You guys can be with each other without having the mean tension.

"Sup bitch, have you seen Kuroo?" you asked, placing your legs on Kenma's lap.

He shoved them off him instantly.

"Disgusting. And I don't know where he is, I think he went to grab some snacks for movie night,"

You hummed to yourself. A happy tune was in your mind and you couldn't help but hum.

"Can you hum quieter? Holy shit, so annoying," Kenma said, pulling his own hair. Obviously he was joking.

And with him saying that, you hummed as loud as you could.

★ Uh oh... Why did he have to walk in on you changing your clothes... That just made some things weird between you two...

"Idiot, where are you-"

Your face burned with embarrassment, you were in the middle of removing your shirt in your room. Why the hell did he have to come in right now?!

The two of you just stared at each other... In complete silence, unsure how to break the awkward tension.

Luckily, Kenma slammed the door shut.

"What the fuck," he thought, taking a deep breath. "No fucking way..." he continued thinking, looking down at his pants.

Kuroo ran to the scene, worried about the door being slammed.

"What's up with you? Oh shit man you have a boner," Kuroo commented, pointing at his pants.

"No shit!"

You heard the whole conversation, shaking your head, wishing you didn't hear anything.

★ After that the two of you just teased each other, meanly, sometimes being harsh. And actually started building a friendship, not a friendly one though.

"Slut,"

"Pervert,"

"You wanted me to walk in on you," Kenma yawned, placing his hands behind his head.

The two of you were currently walking through the hallways, planning to meet up with Kuroo. This was the first time you guys spoke about the situation. It made your cheeks burn thinking about it. But... It made Kenma feel other things.

"Shut up! You probably were spying on me! You wanted to see me like that,"

Kenma shrugged. "I still think you wanted me to walk in on you,". He faked a gasp "Are you in love with me?!"

"You wish," you rolled your eyes.

That's all I have for now... Maybe I'll make a part 2, just wanted to drabble some scenarios :x

[disasterarea-podcast]

So given the writer’s strike, some people are concerned about their shows and movies being postponed or canceled, and aside from the fact networks have already BEEN canceling shows for no reason for years (I still maintain a healthy anger about what Netflix did to Sense8), I thought I would suggest some books on disasters you might want to read if you’re into that sort of history. Which you are if you’re here, I imagine.

Note: I’m suggesting these books because most books on disasters don’t get a huge audience, and so I recommend them because this sort of writing can be hard on the writer and requires a bunch of research. We throw so much money at true crime, we can spare a few bucks for the stories of people who died in disasters.

Also, please check with these with your local small bookstore or library. Amazon can be great, but let’s lend a hand to those who need us more.

Recommended books:

“The Circus Fire,” by Stewart O’Nan - This is one my favorite books on a disaster, because the whole thing creates a very vivid image of the circus prior to the fire in Hartford in July of 1944. There’s one specific line in the book which always makes me pause because it’s so affecting, about how everyone who escaped being able to hear the sounds of the animals screaming as they died - except all of the animals were out of the tent by then.

“The Only Plane in the Sky,” by Garrett Graff - This, I highly recommend you get on audiobook. It’s an oral history of the events of 9/11 with a full cast, and it’s incredibly affecting to listen to.

“Ada Blackjack: A True Story of Survival in the Arctic,” by Jennifer Niven - Ada Blackjack was a badass: flawed and weak at times, but hardy and steady when necessary. Half of her story is how she survived, but half is how she was exploited following her rescue. Both stories need to be known.

“Alive,” by Piers Paul Read - If you’re watching “Yellowjackets,” this should be required reading. If you’ve seen the movie adaptation from the 90s, there is WAY more you don’t know. The story of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 is a tough read, but a worthy one.

“A Night to Remember,” by Walter Lord - This is to disaster nonfiction what “In Cold Blood” is to true crime. It’s not a long read, but it’s a great one. Lord had the advantage of writing the book while many of the Titanic survivors were still alive and could give a very good description of what they went through.

“Dying to Cross,” by Jorge Ramos - I recommend this not just because it is good, but because it is timely. Nineteen people died in an un-air-conditioned truck as they were attempting to make their way into the states from over the Mexican border. It’s a horrific story, and one that humanizes an issue for whom some people need to be faced with the humans involved and what they go through.

“Bath Massacre: America’s First School Bombing,” by Arnie Bernstein - Harold Schecter also wrote a very good book on the Bath school massacre called “Maniac,” but I have a preference for this version. It’s a good reminder that schools in the U.S. didn’t just become targets in the last twenty years or so.

“Into Thin Air,” by Jon Krakauer - I feel like this is a gimme, but it’s a fantastic book from someone who was actually on Mount Everest during the 1996 disaster and knew those involved very well. I happen to like Krakauer’s work anyway - I even like “Into the Wild” despite my feelings about McCandless and his legacy - but it’s understandably my favorite.

“And the Band Played On,” by Randy Shilts - The one thing I will say is that Shilts’ treatment of Gaetan Dugas is *rough* to say the least and outright wrong on some points, God knows. But it’s still an amazing book, and if you come out of it not wanting to dig up Reagan and punch him a bunch I’m impressed at your restraint.

“Triangle: The Fire That Changed America,” by David von Drehle - The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire is one of the disasters I am most interested in, and I would argue this is the definitive book on the subject. Also, if this book introduces you to both Clara Lemlich and Frances Perkins … I mean, talk about badass women.

“The Radium Girls,” by Kate Moore - Look, I’ll say this. If you know of the Radium Girls, this is a great book on their story. If you don’t know, go in blind and prepared to be horrified.

“Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine,” by Anne Applebaum - Ukraine has always been a target. During the Holodomor, they were victims of one of the worst genocides in history.

“Midnight in Chernobyl,” by Adam Higginbotham - Like the miniseries? This is a great source for more information for what happened at Chernobyl and all of the ass-covering involved.

"Boston Strong: A City's Triumph Over Tragedy," by Casey Sherman and Dave Wedge - If you’re interested in the Boston marathon bombing, I really thought this book did a good job of connecting the stories of the victims, the authorities searching for the killers, and the killers themselves.

“Show Me the Bodies: How We Let Grenfell Tower,” by Peter Apps - As I understand it, Apps did a lot of covering the Grenfell Tower fire for the British press, and it shows. He provides a mountain of information, and you will come out of reading this book absolutely LIVID about what authorities allowed to happen in Grenfell and so many other council estates in the UK.

“Dark Tide: The Great Molasses Flood of 1919,” by Stephen Puleo - I feel as though the molasses flood gets treated like a joke a lot of the time, but y’all, twenty people died. That area of Boston was *wrecked*. The photos of the devastation are terrifying. Puleo treats all of this with the proper respect it deserves.

“In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex,” by Nathaniel Philbrick - Forget the movie. Read the book.

“The Great Influenza,” by John M. Barry - Want to read about the 1918 flu epidemic? Want to be mad that a hundred years later we didn’t learn a damn thing?

Now, that’s just a start. If anyone wants, I can always post photos of my disaster book collection on Kindle and next to my recording desk. Or if there’s a specific disaster you’re interested in, I may know of a good book about it you can read.

But just remember if SAG and the directors’ guild joins the strike too - there is so much out there to occupy your time until they come back. Entertainment work is work, and it deserves to be supported financially and fairly as such. Rock on, WGA. ✊