#as a work written by someone who grew up

[sassydefendorflower]

Something I don't see discussed often is the absolute genius dichotomy between dialogue and background scene during the conversation between Roy and Hughes in Ishval.

No, not that one.

I mean the one where they talk about the letter Hughes got from Garcia - one of the only "comedic" moments in all of episode 30 (and issue 15 of the manga).

Because it's horrendous.

In the anime (which unfortunately cut most of the juiciest and most fucked up stuff out of the chapters about the Ishvalen genocide) the scene begins with an establishing shot of Roy in which we see this:

Blood on the ground, covering an Ishvalen garment (and probably a body just out of frame) with a smiling Roy in front of it, since Hughes just got mail and Roy probably knows what his best friend is about to talk about. The conversation continues, the camera focused on their faces as if to make us forget just where we're at, and then, as their banter comes to a close we get this:

A wide shot of Roy and Hughes next to each other, now from the other side of the camera. Where before, we could only see their faces, alight with a rare smile, talking about the love of Hughes' life and joking around, we now see what scenery this is happening in front of. One of destruction. One of death.

Just as they ignored the dead body on the floor as they started talking about Hughes having to defend his girl back home, neither of them are really looking at Ishval in the end either. Hughes and Roy are still looking at the letter in Hughes hand - not the buildings Roy himself probably burned down only hours earlier.

It's framed a bit differently in the manga, though not by much. If anything the implications are only much darker.

(please excuse the German text, I only have the manga in German and Japanese)

But in the manga, this scene is not framed by a destroyed Ishvalen town, but by literal mountains of dead people. The speech bubbles in the left corner reference Hughes asking Roy when he'll get a girl to write home about.

I think it is very telling that Arakawa focused on the dead bodies in the foreground. I think it is incredibly clever and smart to show us Hughes and Roy only as dark shadows, as we see arms and faces stick out of the dirt.

Because as much as this moment of levity both in the manga and anime is a human one (people adapt to all kind of horrors, and most soldiers are known for a rather dark sense of humor), it is also a reminder that Hughes and Roy get to go home.

They both survive the war (even if Hughes dies later on), unlike the people over whose dead bodies they are sharing jokes.

It is a haunting imagery, but an effective one.

It's not overly aggressive, and it's easy to miss the bloody garment, especially in the anime version, but I do think it is a deliberate part of storytelling.

Because no matter how much Hughes claims he fights to survive (and i believe him, I really do), there is a difference between the Amestrians fighting and the Ishvalens they are killing.

And it's probably the fact that only one side is getting letters from back home, promising them a family and a future once they get back. Because the other side is lying dead on the floor, their blood a backdrop for two people to reminisce about humanity.

[britneyshakespeare]

I wonder if Shakespeare had a dog

[ursie]

Brennan’s statement on Palestine :

[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:

"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come. 

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time. 

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch. 

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight. 

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you. 

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle. 

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon. 

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister. 

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist. 

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin. 

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights. 

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles. 

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job. 

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him. 

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists. 

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years. 

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter. 

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids. 

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor. 

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones. 

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair. 

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,” 

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness. 

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. 

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh. 

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane. 

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire. 

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look. 

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?” 

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,” 

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands. 

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch. 

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need. 

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall. 

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over. 

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted. 

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea. 

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way. 

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back. 

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing. 

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes. 

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close. 

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating. 

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, ​​hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds. 

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding. 

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him. 

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.” 

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk. 

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?” 

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole. 

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him. 

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness.  “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs. 

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice. 

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him. 

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?” 

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face. 

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?” 

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more. 

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. 

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?” 

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. 

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more. 

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock. 

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you. 

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background. 

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you. 

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling. 

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,” 

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face. 

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast. 

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning. 

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking. 

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking. 

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

[wilcze-kudly]

People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.

Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)

"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.

You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?

Toph's!

People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.

Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.

And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?

She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.

Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.

It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.

Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.

However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.

Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.

She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.

So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.

Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.

Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.

Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.

On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.

Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.

Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.

If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.

Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.

[docholligay]

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi! Sorry to bother. I’ve written this and deleted it several times, but hopefully my words work. I just wanted to say thank you.

I grew up in an *extremely* fundamentalist church and surrounded in that culture. There was a lot of abuse and trauma connected to the church, especially because I was the only small kid there that wasn’t male nor neurotypical. I ran away when I finally left for college several years ago - but it’s something that I still have nightmares about.

I spent a long time dealing with the PTSD/depression, religious trauma, and deconstructing/questioning the programming. I’m still dealing with it, but working on it. So it goes.

I just wanted to say that I appreciate you, Terry, and everyone who’s put so much effort and love into the Good Omens series. I know it sounds silly, but it’s been weirdly helpful in dealing with the religious trauma.

The idea of it being an “institutional problem” instead of me somehow doing something wrong, that maybe it’s not sinful to tell someone ‘no’ or question authority, that being human isn’t bad, etc - these were things that I didn’t even consider possible growing up. It’s comforting and encouraging to see those things in the book and on the screen.

Thank you.

I'm glad.

[bigwishes]

The New You

[a reward story for someone who wrote me a hot tf scenario]

---------

You sat in the park on your break from work, staring at your driver's license. Trying to remember if another name had been written there before hand, if the picture was every different. You couldn't put your finger on it but you had this nagging feeling like it used to be different, like you used to be different.

---

A week ago you remember going on a small sail boat cruise, just spending 3 days on a sail boat on a lake, nothing too extreme, but you dont remember YOU being there.

The day started off pretty normal, with you getting on the boat with a few mates, but you don't remember what you looked like in the mirror that morning. You remember sailing out and sitting on a chair feeling the sun beat down on your face making you sweat and tan, which was almost impossible for your arab complexion.

maybe you didn't tan, maybe your skin was always this dark, but you do remember your body itching like crazy, and hair sprouting all over your legs arms and chest, you remember being smooth before going sailing but...no you had always been this hairy, your arab heritage made sure of that.

Something you do remember though is the feeling of swelling strength as your biceps started hugging you sleeves and your pecs pressed out on the fabric until the buttons split open and your muscular body heaved out of it...

You remember because crew member brought you a new pair of clothes because yours had been destroyed...by..destroyed by....you couldn't remember you probably just split some wine or food on the shirt, plus the clothes the crew brought you fit your perfectly and they were from your bags so...surely your body hadn't changed at all.

You remember the clothes fit perfectly and they had to be yours because you were able to take them home, they suited your body perfectly, almost tailor made so there was no way you could have changed, you didn't change, you couldn't have...besides if you changed why did you remember being arab your entire life.

There was definitely no way you could have changed, if you had your friends would have been shocked and lost their minds, not making fun of the small but potent amount of BO constantly hanging in your pits and pointing out the sweat marks on your tank top around your lats, no this is the stuff they have done to you since your first year of uni.

yeah...nothing out of the ordinary here.

----

You sit in the park staring at your drivers license and chuckle as you slap it rapidly against your palm, maybe you were working too hard. It would be impossible for you to of changed over a weekend trip and had the entire world change with you.

You no, often the simplest answer is the truth, You had always been named Hamza, you had always been like this, you just needed a break from work is all.

Maybe another trip on that lake boat, and this time you could bring some of your white friends instead of your squad of arab blokes you grew up with...yeah, that'd be nice...

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋmy last, my everything ୭ৎ ིྀ

pairing: exmafia!katsuki x reader

❥ read this first!

summary: katsuki had vowed to you to stop this, to make sure you two could live safely from now on. but when you get thrown into the fight again, is he able to save you?

tags: fem!reader, wife!reader, mafia mentions, violence, angst to comfort, cursing, blood, pet names, no quirk au!, threats, guns, mention of death, character death

(a/n: i went with the more interesting ending.. take that how you will)

wc: 4k

he wouldn't fail. it wasn't even an option. the sight of you bloodied on the floor ran through his mind, fueling the fire of his soul as he drove back

he had been forced back to HQ first, that idiot only working at irregular hours of the night.

it was three a.m. way past his bedtime, you'd know as he forced you to sleep alongside him at eight. sometimes the sun was even out when he'd go in for the ‘night.’

he breathed a sigh of half relief and half annoyance as he saw the annoyingly flashy red car in the parking lot of the ‘casino’. he walked in to be greeted by the group of them sitting at a poker table, deku at the head.

katsuki took a seat by the rear, eyes closed but ears open. they had started talking already, but minutes were millions with that idiot. so deku had to ask his questions quickly.

“we just wanted to ask if you'd sold any information on any of our former blood.” midoriya started, eyeing as hawks grew a smirk on his face, his expression one of mock thoughtfulness.

“well, i did. but on who and what will cost you extra, but you know that already.”

“we'll pay, just say it.”

hawks shrugged, examining his fingers as he suddenly spoke quickly and quietly. “let's just say a cloaked man bought the information out of me. wanted bakugo katsuki's addresses and affiliates, former jobs and things he'd been involved with. he offered a lot of money, so my hands were tied. you get it.” a smile broke out onto his face, “but a little birdie told me he trained under eraserhead, i'll give you that for free since i caused you some problems.”

“we already figured that out asshole.” katsuki grumbled. “thanks for your help hawks. ah.. he's just upset, and to be frank i am too.” midoriya said, his voice gaining unusual stoicism in the latter half of the sentence. “you caused issues for me, you know that right? and you can't even give me his identity… it's just an utter disgrace.”

hawks put his hands up in mock surrender, “hey, hey. i didn't say i didn't know who he was. but, fact is that it'd cause you a lot of money to buy his identity in full, you know i'd have to break my code for that.”

“you didn't mind when you sold out bakugo though, did you?” todoroki muttered, flipping a coin in his hand.

“heh, yeah.. i guess i do owe it to you all then. well it's settled,” hawks clapped his hands, “i'll just give you the gang they work under for free.” he slid an envelope over to midoriya. “thanks for the business, sorry for the trouble bakugo.” he rushed out as quickly as he came, the sound of the car speeding out the runway the only thing heard while midoriya tore through the envelope.

written in red ink, with a small smiley face on the very corner, was the name of the gang. “shiketsu?”

midoriya yelled shocked.

they had recently just called a ceasefire to the years of carnage spread between the gangs, the handshake all might did with shindo signified it.

“why would they attack bakugo? it just doesn't make sense.” iida pondered, “though, i guess he did rough a lot of them up back in the wars we had.”

“but there's no reason for them to hold it against them, we had an agreement. we all drank together and everything!” kirishima exclaimed, his hands gesturing around.

“we'll have to go over there ourselves.. likely someone has held something against kacchan for a while.” midoriya ordered. “get your things ready, i don't want any weapons noticeable. concealed and carried, burners too.”

“got it.” they all agreed in unison and got prepared. katsuki was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the notion, putting his favorite gun in his hilt. he always carried, even now, but it was different. this was different.

as he loaded into the car, fist bumping kirishima, he felt almost nervous. he hadn't done anything like this in a while, let alone go to a gang that clearly had something against him. against you.

the ride was quick, kirishima and kaminari blabbing on about how cool it was for him to be back, patting him on the back and smiling. assuring him that they'll find the guy who did this and punt him to the ground.

katsuki could only hope they were right.

they arrived outside the club, walking in immediately to the back. at the sight of deku they opened the doors, nodding at him slightly while letting the group in.

“kacchan, you come with me. everyone else,” he moved to face them, “stay here. on guard, and play nice.” katsuki followed behind him, moving to shindo’s head court. they had to go down an elevator, it was odd really. the last time he was here it was to beat the fuck out of him, and now it was to ask why the hell he picked a fight. with his wife.

it was now six in the damn morning, katsuki was as pissed as ever, midoriya telling him to cool down or he'd leave him behind.

he was a hypocrite though, as he walked in uninvited, a displeased air surrounding him. shindo, who usually invited him over randomly, always accommodating his presence as they were good friends, noticed this odd aura. “midoriya, what brings you here? seems you're not happy with me.”

midoriya took a breath and sighed. “i don't think you would betray me shindo, but facts are facts. one of my men– sorry former men,” he gestured over to katsuki, “had a loved one attacked.”

“that's horrible.” shindo commented, “you don't think i did that though.”

“not you specifically, but.. hawks himself said the one who did was associated with shiketsu.”

“hawks??” shindo almost jumped out of his seat. “well it wasn't me.. definitely not. couldn't have been any of my closest blood either, the only ones who it could've been..” he snapped his fingers like a realization dawned upon him.

“must've been this newbie seiji and his quadrant. he's a new guy, a sniper, he had a crazy good background. he worked fo–”

“eraserhead. right?” katsuki finally had spoken, stepping forward. “right. well, i caused you two a bit of problems huh? lll help you locate him. that's all though.” shindo stood up, handing them a tracking device.

“a tracker?” midoriya questioned, eyebrow raised. “all fresh blood are unknowingly tracked. it's just protocol here, you get it.” shindo shrugged sheepishly.

“right.. remind me to not get on your bad side.” deku joked, laughing about some nonsense joke. katsuki guessed he'd temporarily forgot about the situation, so he snatched the tracker out his hand. “hey!”

“this is…,” his heart dropped, hands sweaty and shaking slightly as he started to recognize. the street names, the buildings, his building.

“why is this fucker close to my house?!”

all of their eyes collectively shot up. you were home, did it already get out that you were alive?

heart pounding, katsuki went rogue. he blasted out of the room, ignoring midoriya’s calls behind him. shoving past his blood and the people in the club, only one thing on his mind: you.

kirishima chased after him as he'd ran into the parking lot of the club, hot wiring a sports car and speeding off.

he threw the burner over to kirishima. “call her, now.” kirishima barely caught the phone, the car drifting and slamming him to its sides so often he felt queasy. “chill out bro!” he dialed the number, but you weren't picking up. he had it on speaker, so the voicemail tone was heard.

“again.” katsuki ordered, his hands gripping the wheel. “call her again.”

“fuck– she's not answering man. we're almost there, she'll be fine.”

“you don't know that. that– that crazy bitch is there.” the tracker now found itself in kirishima’s other hand, the location reading inside his house. “youre not gonna want to hear this.”

“don't fucking tell me. we're here.” he barely pulled in to the driveway when he jumped out the car, braking it abruptly. “back me up.” was all he said as he continued moving forward, not looking back.

he walked up to the door, doing his best to stay quiet as he hopped your white fence and entered through the glass door. he saw you.. and.. surely enough a man he's never seen before.

you seemed off as he barged in, unmoving as he screamt, “[name]! move now!”.

at your silence and stillness, he walked closer to you. only to stop at the red dot aimed at your forehead.

“katsuki. don't move, please.” you were crying, tears streaming down your face as your hands shook. your knees looked like they were about to falter under your extreme fear, your eyes wide and horrified. “stay back.”

he stilled as well, noting the man who had just the rifle at point blank range. he smirked at katsuki, who had his fists balled in anger. kirishima hadn't revealed his presence, hidden behind the sliding door of your home.

“i don't like to leave my work unfinished, you know?” the man said, keeping his finger close to the trigger as he continued speaking. “i don't know how or why, but she managed to avoid my first shot. man my teacher would be pissed.”

“eraserhead?”

“yeah, eraser. he told me all about how you embarrassed my blood a couple years back. how you drove over half the members to the brink of death.”

“yeah, i did do that.” he felt weird talking about this in front of you, you never like it when he spoke about his job in front of you, and now was no different. other than the bullet in your direction. “there's a cease now. we're okay, the fucking shit is over.”

“who gives a fuck? not me. you– you expect me to believe they don't want you dead? that they don't hold some shit against you?”

“they don't. put down the gun– she's not even involved in this.” he slowly moved forward, his hand nearing his gun.

“stay back! or i'll shoot.” he hung his finger right over the trigger, “i'll blow her brains out. back the fuck up.”

katsuki stilled, “don't do this. why her? why not me if you're problem is with me?”

the man scoffed, purple hair covering his eye as he sneered. “because i know that wouldn't hurt you as much as this. as much as killing her in front of you. you're life must've always been disposable, all of us are. normal people don't join gangs.” he laughed, continuing on and on about something as katsuki tried to grab his gun without him noticing.

“who– who fucking tipped you off huh?” katsuki grumbled, attempting to take his attention off his wandering hands.

“well, it started with shinsou. i stole a couple of his bullets, real easy. that dumbass is trusting as long as you're associated with his teacher.” the guy laughed, “hawks though? i offered him a crazy number, asking for your addresses and shit. he gave in easily.”

he eyed the hand towards katsuki’s waist. “drop your gun, do you think i'm fucking stupid?”

katsuki tsked, “you sure do look it,” pulling out the silver ghost and putting it on the floor. it fell by his feet. “kick it away, ill ignore that remark since im feeling gracious.” he did so, making it ricochet off your foot.

filled with a newfound sense of confidence, the man chuckled, going closer to you. he brought his body closer, gun still pointed at you. he was rambling now, his words weren't anything katsuki was focused on. he was looking at his moments, waiting. waiting for a moment to strike, a moment of weakness, something.

and he saw it. his gun faltered, the weight of the large sniper not meant to be freely held in the air finally affecting him, as he had to switch hands to keep supporting it. he was quick to try and fix its position.

but katsuki was quicker, headbutting his stomach. a shot rang out, thankfully the gun had been pointed towards the ceiling, only hitting a random area in the roof. the two on the floor were fighting, fists full of rage as they pushed each other.

the sound of smashed bones and hits so strong katsuki knew they'd bring bruises to his knuckles the next day rang throughout the room, they were both in blinded rage.

after they had been knocked away from eachother, they eyed the gun next to them, chests heaving and body parts broken. they lurched towards the gun, the purple haired man closer to it.

he was going to grab it first, katsuki internally panicked, but the sight that came after only made him worry more.

the sight of you grabbing the gun out of his reach.

you had picked up the gun. you who could barely stomach stomping bugs or killing wasps. you who hated watching horror movies because doing that to people seemed so cruel. you, who had cried when he taught you how to shoot a gun, hoping that this situation would only pop up in his worst nightmares.

you who shakily held up the gun towards the man’s head, making him scoff. “put down the gun, princess. you won't do it.”

your chest was heaving, your knees felt like they were about to give out. your heart was racing, your fingers fumbling over the trigger. “b-back away.”

katsuki didn't know what to say, neither did kirishima who'd burst in from behind you. if he told you to put down the gun, you'd both be in danger. he could take it from you and kill all of you. fuck, why did this have to happen?

“put down the gun, little girl. you're not cut out for this life, so just hand it over. maybe you'll see your husband in purgatory, sure as hell not going to the same place though.” his hand was nearing the gun, his head was so close to the barrel. your hands shook, your eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched, a shaky exhale escaped your lips. katsuki recalled that look from ever shot he'd made you shoot at a range, the face you made when you finally grew enough courage.

“[name]!”

the man's eyes widened as you shot him, point blank rage. his blood splattered over your hello kitty pajamas, but you'd never forget the look on his face when you opened your eyes. the white of his eyes staring at you, the hole that pierced his head and ruined the white of your carpet, the hand that had tried to cover his wound in the millisecond that he had left of his life.

people, people you didn't recognize barged in to the front of your house. they didn't look horrified at the corpse at the floor, they looked more scared of you.

you'll never forget how they all treated you. approaching you like you were a nut case, coaxing you to throw the gun away from you like you didn't want to run away from this whole situation. baby-talking you like you were insane.

you'd never regretted marrying katsuki, but standing here. bloodied and a murderer. that was the first straw for you.

but like always, he'd save you from the mess. when the gun dropped to the floor, on top of the body with a sickening clank! he grabbed you, carrying you up to your shared room.

in your solitude you sobbed, wailing into his chest like you'd done just a day prior. the sun had just risen, illuminating your tears as you shook on your shared bed.

he held you close, reading your mind. “you're not a monster, or a murderer.”

“how can you say that though? i just killed him!” your eyes widened, heart beating like crazy. “it was self defense, he would've killed us all. you did good [name].” he held your face in his hands, letting you see him with his bruised and cut up face.

“you saved me. you saved yourself. you saved anyone that would've been targeted by that freak.”

you finally calmed down enough to go shower. the blood washing off your body didn't help to calm down the storm brewing in your head, the anxiety overcoming you, but he did. he always did.

as he helped rinse the blood of your face, your arms and where it'd been caught in your stomach, replacing it with suds of rosy soap that he'd bought because it ‘smelled’ like you, the voices in your head came to a slow stop.

he was the only one who understood, the only one who had gotten his hands bloodied the same way as you, even worse. as he held you that night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, holding your body close to his as if you were to disappear, you felt normal again.

all traces of the body were gone the next morning, the dent in the ceiling the only remnants of the situation. as katsuki cooked breakfast for the two of you, you couldn't believe how regular it all felt.

how nothing seemed changed, how when kirishima and kaminari came over to cheer you up and check on the two of you they didn't seem phased. how you all sat around your dining room table as normal, katsuki drinking his black coffee while holding your hand under the table, all of you joking around as regular.

how when you went back to your bakery everything was fixed already, a little green sticky note standing out from the display case that was empty because of your absence.

‘sorry for the inconveniences mr and mrs. bakugo, take this as our apologies.’

-midoriya, shindo

there were two small doodles of them on the corner, making you laugh as you gawked at the renovation done to your lovely little shop.

you showed it to katsuki who only scoffed, a small smirk on his face as he looked over the fresh paint, tiles, and replaced tables. “damn nerds.”

you didn't feel so up to baking today, which katsuki understood perfectly. you left the store hand in hand, noticing how the glass of the entrance had been fixed too.

you'd walked to the ramen shop you'd had your first date at, taking the booth in the corner like always. katsuki held your hand, clinging to you more than usual.

he barely let you out of his sight, even offering to feed you, which made you laugh and smack his chopsticks away.

“hey, 'suki.” you asked, poking his side. “it's over right? you're coming home?”

he nodded, swallowing his food before answering. “asshole’s off the streets, that's all i wanted for you, and for us babe.”

“ew don't kiss me when you just ate!”

“do you not love me woman?! we almost fucking died!”

what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, that's what katsuki thought as he reasoned his white lie.

he pondered how he'd make it up to you. technically he didn't do anything wrong in your eyes but he'd still feel internally guilty. he'd take you out to all your favorites, get you a new purse, do all the chores for a week. that sounded good to him as he made his way back to HQ, his hands in his pockets as midoriya eyed him with a knowing look.

you shouldn't and wouldn't want to know about his true final day right? how he'd ordered kirishima and kaminari do round up the rest of the quadrant. how he'd told them to leave them all for him in the basements of the HQ.

how he truly earned back his reputation of being explosive, leaving the three assholes who'd dared to conspire with a guy like that mangled and unrecognizable. if not for the names written in sharpie on their arms he wouldn't have remembered which one was which either.

he dropped the hammer from his hand, looking down at his work with a sense of satisfaction. he changed out of his clothes into the clean ones he came in with, throwing the bloodied ones into an incinerator.

he let iida and shoto handle the bodies, they were always good at leaving them left without a trace. fast too.

he thought about you the entire walk home. he felt giddy at the thought of seeing you again, excited to just exist in your presence. he stretched his body, working up the courage to see you as he opened the door.

“babe, you're home! where have you been?” you crashed into his chest, tightening your hold around him as you hugged him.

“out, finishing up loose ends y’know.”

as you looked up at him, trust and love in your eyes he knew.

he knew that he'd go back, leave, and kill all in a vicious cycle if it all meant coming back to you at the end.

because you were his everything, so he'd do anything for you.

tags: @miguellover6969 @lotusstarr @dragonscribble @theplacetoputfics @hannahk

[rangerbarbz]

Serving Up Romance

Author’s Note: Guys holy FUCK y’all have blown up my account!! Thank you all so much! I just can’t believe it like i'm going bonkers. Thank you so much for all your kind words and everything!! Also, I can’t believe I’ve never written for 80s Stan that’s crazy. (Also i know he’s never worn a denim jacket but i had a vision) 

“Serving up Romance”

You had been working as a waitress at Greasy’s Diner since you first moved to the strange town of Gravity Falls. While others might turn their nose up at waitressing, you loved it. You got the opportunity to know everyone in town, hear their gossip, and meet passer-bys driving through on road trips. You never knew who was going to walk through those doors or what incredible story they were going to tell you. One slow day at the diner, you were making a pot of coffee when you heard the bell above the door jingle. 

“Welcome to Greasy’s! Sit wherever you want, and I’ll be with you in just a sec,” you called out, pouring water into the coffee maker. You heard someone sit at the swivel stool behind you. 

“Take your time, doll. I’m in no rush,” a gruff voice responded. Hm. You didn’t recognize that tone. You turned around to see a man with dark brown hair in a white t-shirt and denim jacket, chewing on a toothpick. You noticed that there were patches of different fabrics and patterns all over the jacket. He hadn’t noticed you were looking at him because he was reading the small menu that was attached to the metal condiment holder. 

You smiled at him. “I like your jacket,” you complimented the handsome stranger. 

His attention quickly diverted to you. He chuckled. “Oh, this old thing?” He lifted up his arms to show off more of his patches. “Thanks. It’s been through the ringer let me tell ya. My ma taught me how to hand stitch so that any time I ripped it, I could fix it right up.” 

“That’s so sweet.” You reached out to point at one that was yellow with small, red flowers on his shoulder. “I like this one.” He looked over to see which one you were talking about and laughed. 

“That one I got from a motel pillow case! I accidentally caught my shoulder on fire.” You raised your eyebrows at him. His gaze became stern. “I learned to keep my distance from candles that day on.” 

You burst out laughing. “Now is this a true story?” you asked, propping your chin up on the palm of your hand. 

He grinned, moving his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “True as you are pretty, sweetheart.”

You giggled as a blush started to spread across your cheeks.“Alright, slick, what can I get you?” you responded, removing a notepad from the front pocket of your apron. He picked up the menu and gave it a quick once over.

“Uh… Give me the bacon and eggs. Scrambled, please, and one cup of coffee.” You finished scribbling his order and turned to put it in the window. 

“Can I get a name for this order?” you asked, winking at him from the coffee pot. You began to walk back over to him with a mug of black coffee. 

He gave you a wide smile. “Stan Pines, proprietor of The Mystery Shack,” he answered, hand outreached to you in greeting. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, waitress at Greasy’s Diner.” You shook his hand; it was firm, calloused, and felt very nice against your smooth skin. You turned over his hand to take a look at his scarred knuckles you noticed when he was holding the menu earlier. You dragged your thumb over the puckered, white lines.

“You got fighting hands, Stan.” You gazed at him through your lashes and grinned.“Sexy.” Now it was his turn to be flustered. His face grew red at your bold statement and laughed nervously. 

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I, uh, used to box, and I’ve gotten myself into a fair share of…scuffles.” You gave him a small smile. You were about to comment on that until the bell dinged from the window signaling that his food was done. 

“Bacon and eggs are up!” the chef barked. His loud voice startled you which made Stan laugh. 

“Sorry, let me get your food real quick.” You let go of his hand reluctantly and went to get his plate. What you didn’t see was him smirking to himself and touching the scars you grazed. He couldn’t remember the last time someone genuinely complimented him. 

Things started to pick up after you served Stan his food, so you didn’t get to continue your conversation. However, you made sure that when he paid for his meal, you got to talk to him one last time. 

“Will I be seeing you again, Stan?” you asked, getting his change from the cash register. “You should come next Tuesday! We serve waffle tacos then.” He laughed as you dropped the coins into his hand. 

“Well, I obviously can’t miss waffle tacos,” he responded with a smile. 

“I’ll see you then. It was nice to meet you, Stan! Don’t go catching yourself on fire on your way out!” you joked as he began walking towards the exit. 

“No promises, doll.” 

Over the next couple weeks, Stan continued to come into the diner and sit in the same swivel stool as he did when you first met him. He ordered a different thing on the menu each time making it his goal to try everything you had to offer. Your conversations were playful, flirty, but, most of all, interesting. He had quite the colorful past, but that didn’t scare you off. In fact, it made you more intrigued. 

One day, during a particularly busy shift, Stan walked in as always. “Hey, hon!” you greeted him while placing a plate of pancakes in front of a fussy toddler. “I’ll be right with ya!” You then noticed he had one of his hands behind his back, and he seemed a bit nervous. 

He didn’t sit down this time, but instead stood at the cash register. You walked over with a confused expression on your face. “Stan? Are you not eating today?” 

“Um, well, no. Not today, doll. I, uh, wanted to give you these.” His face was bright pink as he presented you with a large bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped. “I hope you like them. I found a whole bunch of them in a field near one of the backroads.”

“Oh, Stan,” you said softly. You took the bouquet from him and held it gently, admiring it. “It’s just beautiful, but why?” 

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. “There’s a drive-in movie happening tonight outside of town, and I wanted to take you with me,” he murmured shyly. “I think you’re real nice and fun to talk to and you got a knock-out smile.” He paused. “I would…like to get to know you outside the diner.” He finally made eye contact with you to see your reaction to everything he had said. 

You hadn’t stopped beaming at him since he handed you the flowers. “Stan, I would love to join you.” You reached out to cup his face with your free hand and gave him a peck on his cheek, his stubble tickling your lips. “What time should I be expecting you?” 

His eyes widened at you, his hand touching where you had kissed him. “Um, I. The, uh, movie starts at 7:45, so I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” he stammered, face as red as his Diablo. 

“Sounds good, sugar,” you replied, giving him a slip of paper that you had written your address on while he was talking. “I can’t wait to see what tricks a romantic like you has up his sleeves.” 

Stan let out a giggle before quickly covering it up by clearing his throat. “I guess you’ll have to find out tonight. I’ll see you then, sweetheart.” He gave your hand a squeeze before walking out the way he came in. 

“I’m going on a date with Mr. Mystery,” you whispered to yourself excitedly, burying your nose in the bouquet. 

PART 2 COMING SOON

[writing-fanics]

Playful Banter ‘Stayed Gone’

Alastor x Reader

[a/n: I’m not a song writer don’t be mean if the lyrics don’t match up I’m sorry I tried! I haven’t written for Alastor since I think 2020. The entire song isn’t here in lyrics it opens when Alastor and you are walking down the stairs]

Song

Alastor and You, walked down the stairs and noticed sinners gathers around the Voxtech television. You glanced up at him knowingly, and you couldn’t help put clip your heels together. As you made you swiftly made your way, to the radio tower.

‘While they’ve hid in radio, we've pivoted to video’

‘Now their medium is getting bloody rare.’

‘Hell's been better since they’ve split’

You grinned dusting off your clothes; bringing the cup of tea taking a sip. As you glanced ver at Alastor smiling, “Let’s have some fun shall we, darling?” He asked, and you lifted your head with an upturned smile. “We shall.” You chuckle, as you turned on the broadcast. Leaning in closer into the mic.

‘Where's they’ve been? Who gives a shit?!’

You had a devilish smile plastered on your face, “Salutations!” You and Alastor said into the microphone, grinning ear to ear. “Good to be back on the air,” You smiled, holding your cup of tea in hand.

You were ready for some fun, excited, Vox didn’t know what he was getting into with you two.“Yes, we know it's been a while.” You two sang, into the microphone.

“Since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast” You two said into the mic, “Sinners, rejoice!” Alastor and You exclaimed, as the crowd seemed to gather around the old timey radio.

The sinners gathered in front of both, glancing back and forth between the two. “What a dated voice!” Vox spat, and You could only chuckle as you brought the mic closer.

“Instead of a clout-chasing mediocre video podcast.” You and Alastor sang, smiling

“Come on!” Vox shouted, angrily annoyed. As the two went on, “Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure?” Alastor sang, and making fun of Vox.

“Fitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?” You sang, smirking and standing beside Alastor.

“Ignore their chirping!” Vox spat.

“Every day, he's got a new format!” Alastor sang, grinning. Vox groaned in annoyance.

‘You're looking at the future, he's the shit that comes before that!’

Alastor sang, “Is Vox as strong as he purports?” as other sinners listened in the feud, “Or is it based on his support?” You sang.

“He'd be powerless without the other Vees,” Alastor sang, then leaning closer into your respective microphones. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“And here's the sugar on the cream,”Alastor sang, leaning closer into his microphone a a devilish smile on his face.

“He asked us to join his team!” Alastor sang, revealing the truth. “H-hold on!” Vox stammered, nervously. You smiled grinning ear to ear leaning closer holding; your microphone close to you.

A devilish grin grew across your face, “A jealous one he surely is!” You sang, stifling back a laugh. Remembering when Vox asked if you wanted to go out. As in start a relationship with you. You couldn’t help but laugh back then. And still laugh even now.

You chuckled slightly,“years ago he asked if we could court!” You sang, into the microphone. You could only imagine the horrified and embarrassed looked, on Vox’s face right now and thought alone. Made your grin wider.

“I said no, and now he's pissy.” You say down in your chair, next to Alastor and smiled. “That's the tea!” Alastor and You sang, sitting back into your respective chairs smiling. Leaning back in them kicking your legs back, as you two sang.

“You two old-timey pricks, I'll show you suf-ffering,” Vox stammered, as his screen started to buffer. “Uh oh, the TV is buffering!” You and Alastor sang into the microphone, with you adding slight coo at the end.

Vox stammered as he started to shorting out, his screen buffering continuously as he was about to lose single. “I'll destroy you, yo-ou lit-tle—” He stammered, suddenly all power across Pentagram City went out. The only source of power coming from the radio tower, attached to the Hazbin Hotel.

Alastor chuckled statically, “I'm afraid you've lost your signal,” You said, grinning. You looked down for a moment before looking up. Your eyes glowing a bright red.

“Let's begin.” Alastor sang into staff, as he slowly transformed into his demon form. Placing down bis staff as his eyes glowed bright red, and his antlers grew bigger. His form slowly started to resemble that of a wendigo.

“We’re gonna make you wish that we’d stayed gone, tune on in,” you two sang, as you slowly transformed. Your body stretching and neck becoming longer.

As your body stretched, into its demonic form. An ‘X’ revealed itself on the side of your neck. As your nails became sharp claws, as you gripped the control board. “When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run,” You two sang leaning closer, as your eyes and body grew longer.

“Oh, this will be fun,” You and Alastor sang, smiling. Vox stared at the screen in disbelief, as it went blank and fell back into his seat, “Fuck!” he whined, their laughter continuing to taunt him. Leaning back into your chair you smiled, “We still got it.” You said, smiling of course the two of you would. Nothing beats, radio. “I couldn’t ask for a better co-host.” said Alastor, as he smiled at you. “And I couldn’t ask for a better husband,” You said, blowing a kiss his way a smile on your face.

Wonder what Vox’s reaction would be since he still hasn’t moved on, from you rejecting him. To him noticing a ring on your finger.. hmm I’d imagine he’d be buffering

a/n: I did my best with this.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓤𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

Jacaerys Velaryon x Orphan Reader

Request: „Jacaerys , who grew up together with the Reader - whom Rhaenyra adopted and raised. Over time, their friendship changed, but since they never had the courage to admit their feelings, they gradually began to distance themselves from each other. When Jacaerys is promised to Baela, their relationship is no longer the same. They both blame each other for what happened and continue to minimize their interactions until their father promises her hand in marriage to someone else.‟

A/N: Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.

-Since she found out , she has not spoken a word to me…she hates me - the young prince lamented to his mother , Princess Rhaenyra , who watched him carefully , furrowing her eyebrows in consternation.

-You yourself said that you have hatred for her , why now your indifference to her has changed so drastically? - his mother remarked, looking for every single emotion that bubbled up inside him, wanting to understand what was hidden in the mind of her eldest son.

-I never hated her - he denied , closing his eyes and sighing heavily , frustrated -She is the one who hates me. She barely talks to me , and when she does it's as if ice falls out of her mouth instead of words.

-And why that bothers you now, my sweet boy? - Rhaenyra said softly, coming up to him and putting her hand on his shoulder - What happened that now , so suddenly, you crave her attention and acceptance?

Jacaerys was silent for a while, looking into the distance through the chamber window. Eventually he turned to his mother, his eyes filled with helplessness and anger , which slowly took control over his body.

He wanted to scream , he wanted to break everything within his reach and turn it into dust. But he did nothing and without a word , he walked away.

His steps were rapid , almost violent and hard. He walked through the corridors of Dragonstone as if the beast possessed his flesh , leaving behind a raw anger and tension that made the air heavier. And before he could chase away the fog that clouded his mind , he found himself in the chamber of his sister - Y/n Velaryon.

His dark eyes wandered involuntarily through the empty chamber , while his hands touched things that belonged to her. Stuck in an ocean of memories , he paused at the wooden desk, his fingers gliding over the material adorning the covers of old books , some closed , some open on pages , which she had read many times ,along with him , when they were still full of innocence.

He let himself remember , until his gaze rested on a piece of paper hidden between the pages. And before he could think about the subsequent consequences and implications , his hand uncover a letter , a letter regarding her...and the betrothal with Samwell Blackwood's son.

-Why are you here? - suddenly a female voice called out , a voice belonging to his younger sister , who was standing in the threshold of the chambers , looking at him , frowning her eyebrows.

-You can't marry him - he said , looking at her like an enraged animal, ignoring her question - You can't - he repeated, his body yet again being controlled by anger.

Her eyes rested on the paper , that was held by the young man in a disturbingly strong grip.

-How dare you tell me what to do? - she asked him , her voice dangerously cold -How dare you?!

-I dare to tell you what to do because I am your brother -he growled , clenching his hand into a fist , in which there was a letter.

-Brother? - she made an ironic sound - Our mother may have taken me under her care and raised me as her own, but that does not mean that you are my brother, no brother should be indifferent, cruel and cold as you are - she stated, and every word she spoke sounded like a sea of daggers that were cutting his body.

Jacaerys moved towards her, trapping her between the heavy wooden door and her own body.

-You talk about coldness and indifference? You are a hypocrite - he muttered, furrowing his thick eyebrows in annoyance - You are the one who destroyed the bond we once had. From the moment Baela was promised to me, you decided to destroy everything that was between us.

-If this is what you think - she scoffed, her eyes and voice devoid of emotions - If I make you so unhappy, you should be glad that I'm leaving for the Riverlands. You won't have to listen to me anymore, you won't have to see me.

-Do you truly think that's far enough? Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? - he muttered , looking into her siren eyes that seemed to draw him in.

They were both breathing harshly , words hanging heavy between them.

-What do you want me to do? - she whispered, feeling the air between them getting hotter -What do you want me to do to end your torment? - she asked , looking at him with misty eyes.

-I want you…to be mine - he replied - From the moment you let me touch your soft skin, from the moment you let me hear your voice, from the moment you let me admire your beautiful face I wanted you to be mine. Please dear sister , please let me be mine. Don't leave me, just be mine and I will be yours.

In response, the woman embraced his jaw with her warm palm and, moving closer to him, she let her full lips brush his.

-Nyke emagon va moriot issare aōhon Jacaerys (I have always been yours Jacaerys) - she confessed quietly , closing her eyes as his lips began to press against hers , desperate to feel her even closer , even more intensely.

Wet kisses spread over her lips , cheeks and jawline , leaving a trail of saliva behind. Jacaerys kissed her everywhere he could , marking her face with his mouth.

They were both needy , oh so needy. Every touch , every caress ,every whimper , every moan was more desperate than the last.

-Jaes ao yknagon sīr sȳz (Gods you smell so good) - he muttered , moving his nose along her neck , taking in the scent of the oils she sprinkled on her body and the sweat that had managed to appear on her skin through the heat she was in -Ao sylutegon sȳz tolī issa dōna mandia, sīr sȳz (You taste good too my sweet sister , so good) - he whispered in the hollow of her neck , licking and biting her pulse , while his long fingers , lazily hooked into the black fabric of her dress , letting it fall from her shoulders , revealing her firm , ample breasts.

-Oh Jacaerys - she mewled , embracing his head, entwining her fingertips between his wavy hair, pulling at its ends, drawing him closer to her -Don't stop…please don't stop touching me.

-Dōrī (Never) - he breathed out into her mouth , before he attacked her naked breasts , his tongue swirling around the hardened nipples , sucking them and tasting them with his tongue like a man starved.

Y/n moaned quietly , closing her eyes and surrendering to the feeling of a man's mouth on her skin and hands that sensually glided over her thighs , pulling the dark material up , revealing the material of her delicate undergarments.

-Jacaerys - she whimpered , watching as he sank to his knees in front of her.

-Will you let me taste you? - he asked , with rough fingers gliding along her smooth legs , stopping at her rounded hips , revealing her wet , swollen womanhood.

-Yes , yes , yes - she whispered , closing her eyes and tilting her head.

He was gentle and painfully slow, kissing and sucking her firm skin, leaving marks on her flesh as he got closer and closer to where she needed him the most.

She quickly fell into numbness. The amount of attention she was receiving seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jacaerys tormenting her womanhood in such an addictive way. She could compare him to a hungry animal , by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity, sampling every piece, not wanting to miss absolutely anything. She let the knot in her lower abdomen burst, spreading through her body the delightful and burning pleasure that was constantly coursing through her veins through the tongue of a man who refused to leave her, feasting on her even longer.

-Please let me feel you closer. I need you closer , closer than you have ever been - he groaned , embracing her frame , securing it in his strong arms and moving them so that he rested on the bed behind them, placing Y/n on his strong legs, immediately proceeding to attack her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance, which was waiting for him, embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her, sensually moving them.

-Whatever you want , I'll give you whatever you want. But I beg you , don't make me wait my dear brother…I beg you. I need you as you need me…closer than we everwere - she whispered into his mouth , leaning her head towards his.

She moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as Jacaerys removed his fingers from her tight canal , replacing them with his thick and veiny shaft that penetrated her gummy walls, making her hide her face in the hollow of his neck, moaning and panting as she felt her brother pushing inside her for the first time, kissing her cervix with his member, giving her incredible pleasure and pain that only increased her desire.

He tried to be gentle and slow, but the nails digging into his back, the melodious moans at his ear and the warmth of his sweet sister's body made him rough , almost violent , taking advantage of her trembling body , which seemed to melt into his.

-Ñuha jorrāelagon (My beloved) - Y/n whined , feeling the recently discovered pleasure grow in her lower abdomen, forming another knot ready to burst at any moment.

-Ivestragon nyke iksā ñuhon (Tell me you're mine) - the prince growled, thrusting into her harder, making her feel as if his manhood was deep in her belly.

-Iksan aōhon, iksan aōhon, mērī aōhon! (I'm yours, I'm yours, only yours!) - Y/n announced, grabbing his wavy curls, pulling them tight as an electrifying sensation went through her body, making her almost blind with pleasure.

-Arlī , ivestragon ziry arlī (Again , say it again) - he demanded, attacking her neck.

-Iksan aōhon (I am yours) - she repeated, bringing their foreheads together.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

After everything, she was finally his.

[foone]

I want a human zoology textbook.

Zoology, as in the study of animals. Like, a study of how humans work, done by an author that is not human.

I specifically want this for a couple reasons:

1. Descriptive, not prescriptive: don't tell me what the author thinks humans should do or how they should be. Tell me what they do. Observationally!

2. No bias towards "nature". I don't particularly care what the author is imagining humans are like in some "garden of eden" unfallen state. I want it to reference how humans ARE.

3. No morality applied to this! What do humans DO, not what you think they should do, or how they should be. And most importantly, no self-censorship in order to avoid offending some of the humans that disagree with ways people live.

And the reason I want this is because of how biology textbooks/wiki pages get written, where even if they try to be progressive they're still written from this weird perspective where they're explaining based on old ideas and the progressive stuff gets a footnote.

Like it'll be "humans have two genders, male and female. This is determined from their chromosomes, XY for male and xx for female."

And then you scroll past two pages for men and another two pages for women, and then it has one subsection that covers non-binary people and intersex people. And it's like: well then integrate that into your main statement!

It's like the author's worldview is still "there's two genders and everyone is born as one" but they've been forced to accept there are some weird exceptions but the core worldview is unchanged. And it's understandable! Wrong, but understandable: the grew up in a world that is quite strong on the "there are only two genders" ideology and doesn't like to remember that intersex people exist.

But like, imagine if you tried to do this as a zoologist. You're like "hey, all bees are female!" and then someone points out the rare male drones and they're like "oh okay I'll update my zoology textbook."

And now it reads:

All bees are female. Most are workers, and one is the queen.

(a couple sections go pass)

Drones: recent science has discovered that some bees are born male. These rare exceptions live short lives where they fertilize a queen and then die.

And it's like, no? Drones are very important to how a hive lives and they can't survive without them?

And we're constantly doing the same thing to humans and it's just bad science. Like, sure, maybe you could have the theory that "humans come in two genders: male and female" but as soon as you see one non-binary person, you have to discard that theory: it has been proven false! It's like not believing in other galaxies after Henrietta Swan Leavitt figured out how Cepheid Variables worked.

Add to that the "nature" thing. Like, you can make a sort of argument about nature vs artificial settings for a lot of species: the whole alpha/beta wolf thing came about because it turns out wolves act differently in captivity compared to the wild, so it makes sense to study how the vast majority of wolves live, not a small group you stuffed into a small area with unusual conditions. It's like saying the lifespan of goldfish is under 5 minutes, based on your study of them in this dry box you put them in.

But humans are different: we are tool-users who build new environments for ourselves. And while you can talk about how humans living in different environments act differently, it doesn't make a lot of sense to call one of them "artificial". All of them are made by us, and humans always do this. This means all environments are natural (because building environments for ourselves is what we naturally do) and all environments are artificial: we always alter our environments to better suit us! That's one of the things we naturally do!

And as for morality, it's about not ignoring things humans do regularly because you think it's weird or you think they shouldn't.

Like that tweet where someone pointed out that lots of species can change gender. Clown fish are a big one, some frogs, a couple birds, some lizards, and humans.

And people often have an immediate knee-jerk reaction of "that doesn't count!" for the last entity in that list. Why? Because we do it (usually) with clothes and makeup and medication, instead of just "naturally"? Bullshit. We're naturally TOOL USERS. Of course we use tools to change gender. We use tools to do EVERYTHING. That's natural for us.

So yeah. I think it'd be refreshing and enlightening to have a zoology textbook written about humans with this detached non-human perspective. An unbiased description of what humans are and do, rather than one irrevocably tinged with ideas of what humans should be and should do.

Basically I want to load up Vulcan Wikipedia and check the "Humans" article.

[allbark-no-bite]

on the brink.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)

summary: having children was never on the table. you never had the maternal instinct that most girls seemed to have growing up and you had no interest in the mundane tasks that came with acting as a mother in a plastic playground house. but when you're forced to choose between your husband's and your own dreams, the decision gets a little bit more complicated. aka the unplanned pregnancy fic that no one asked for

warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion

author's note: okay i know this is not the fic that i've been promising yall, but i swear i'm working on it. this is pretty different than a lot of things that i've written before. a bit of self expression and indulgence if you will so just bear with me (if you hate it don't tell me)

————————————————————————

"I'm never having kids," you had admitted suddenly into the darkness of the cabin, staring up at the ceiling. The waves lapped at the sides of the ship, swaying the carrier just slightly. There was nothing, not even the faint footsteps of a sailor patrolling on night duty overhead, just the sounds of the vast open sea all around.

You could practically hear Bradley's eyebrows furrow, his voice of surprise coming out a bit loud considering the sailors that slept all around you. "Why?"

"Isn't that what you said to Maverick?" you retorted.  "'No wife, no kids to mourn you when you burn in'?"

Even in the dimly lit bunk room, you could see Bradley sit up, his broad figure washed in blue moonlight. "That's not— Maverick's a—"

"A man?"

Bradley doesn't answer.

"Fuck you, Bradshaw."

As the years progressed, that was the typical response you received when you expressed your reluctance to have children. After a while, you grew used to it, being made out to be a monster, being told you would change your mind. You knew you wouldn't of course, but your act of considering the suggestion eased the consciences of those who thought they had carried out their duty of convincing you otherwise.

You never had the maternal instinct that most girls seemed to have growing up. You had no interest in the mundane tasks that came with acting as a mother in a plastic playground house or pushing a doll in a stroller. Because you never leave that plastic playground house. Not even when you grow up do you escape those four suffocating walls.

Because once you become a mother, that is all you are. Because that's who a mother is. Someone who devotes every single waking moment of the rest of their lives sacrificing for their children. Who you were before, your past, your achievements, that's not who you are anymore. You are 'Mom', 'Mommy', 'Mamma'.

You give it all up to be a mom. Because there is nothing worse than an absent mother. You had experienced it first hand, and you wouldn't do that to your children.

Your mother sacrificed to be a mom. But there wasn't a day that she let you forget it.

One thing you feared was the havoc it would wreck on your career. You were selfish in that way. Setting aside your career was not an option, not when you had worked so hard for so long. On top of being in the military, not wanting children was another blaring red flag. The combination didn't exactly lend itself to many dating opportunities.

Therefore, when you first met Jake, you weren't looking for anything serious. You knew how these kinds of things went. It would be fine at first. He'd be smitten with you, enamored even. You'd see each other for a while, maybe even start dating if things got that far. And then more serious conversations would happen, and he'd realize that no man wants to marry a woman who puts herself first.

Except Jake didn't seem to mind.

"Okay," he had replied without much hesitation. Dare you say without any hesitation.

"Okay?" You echoed in response, the confusion in your voice evident.

He'd shrugged, tipping back the last of his beer before standing up. "Yeah. Okay." You craned your neck to follow him. Jake stopped in front of you, leaning over to peck your lips. "We'll figure it out, okay?" And then he'd turned to take his righteous place at the dart board, as if it was as easy as that.

And for a while it almost was.

The Uranium mission came and went, deployments passed, and it all was just that easy. With the Commander of the Pacific Fleet on your side, it was never too hard to get assignments relatively near to each other, and even then, Jake was only ever a flight away. Even in the years before the two of you got around to getting married, when your chances of getting deployed halfway across the country from each other were high, it was all just so easy.

It was laughable how well things worked out between you and Jake. And maybe that sort of ease came with being in the same line of work and understanding the stress of the job, but even outside of that, life with Jake was ridiculously simple. As strange as it was to admit, your life didn't change drastically when Jake came into it. Jake liked to sleep by the door so the left side of the bed was still yours, Jake got off of work at the same time as you so you weren't stuck waiting around for someone to come home, he didn't speak to his family much so there were never any obligatory family gatherings to attend, and like you, he was in no rush to buy a home or get married. The only reason the two of you did finally get around to getting married was because Nat was convinced the two of you would just stay engaged forever and so she planned the whole ceremony herself. And there was no saying no to Nat.

Even after you married Jake, nothing changed. You moved in together sure, and with that came the assurance that you'd be the first person the Navy notified if anything ever happened to him and the same for you, but that was about it. All of the terrible things people warn you that will happen once you move in with your partner never happen. It's so fucking easy.

Until it isn't.

Jake is away on a mission when you start having symptoms. Not really even symptoms, just a bit of nausea here and there, an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Call it intuition if you will, but you know something is wrong. You dismiss it at first, put it off because you can. It's only once you start puking after every early morning hop that you come to terms with the fact that you've been avoiding the truth. And as much as you'd like to pretend like it isn't happening, you have to do something. You make an appointment at a clinic for the following week.

You wait until Jake's stateside to tell him. Not because there's any decision for you to make, or that you want to give him the opportunity to change your mind because you know he won't, but because you're established enough in your relationship that you know that this isn't going to change anything. As Jake had reassured you years ago, it was okay. You'd figure it out.

Jake had gotten back home early in the morning, but because you'd been assigned an early hop and then agreed to take on some of the newer pilots in some dogfighting, most of the day has passed by the time you're leaving base and you've still yet to see him. Just as you're grabbing your things and leaving the locker room, planning on calling him on the way to the clinic, he catches you in the hall.

You're mid stride when he saunters around the corner, moving with just enough comfortable confidence in his walk that it comes off as cocky, like he owns the place and hasn't been gone for a month. Jake breaks out into a grin. "Ah just who I was hoping to see."

"Jake!" you state in surprise, barley registering who he is before he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a long overdue hug. One of his large hands comes up to pet your hair, the other squeezes your waist. Relaxing, you breathe him in, musky and familiar. You've been slightly on edge all day and a hug from him was just what you needed.

Phoenix huffs from behind you, breaking the silence. "That's funny because I was hoping not to see you, Bagman." The gleam in her eyes is affectionate. The Dagger Squad has remained close in the following years but that's not to say that old rivalries fade.

Jake releases you from the embrace for the most part but keeps his heavy arm draped across your shoulders, holding you close. "You been takin' care of my wife, Trace?" he asks, his voice warm and heavy.

Natasha glares at him playfully over her shoulder as she pushes past the two of you. "She was my wife before she was yours, Seresin. You stay gone too long again and I might steal her back."

You smile privately to yourself as they banter back and forth, watching as Phoenix finally disappears down the hallway. For a moment you forget about what you're about to do. Jake looks down at you, his grin stretching widely across his face, once again as he squeezes you in close. "Ready to head home?" he asks, his arm dropping from around you so that he can grab your bag.

Suddenly you hesitate, the words caught in your throat.

Immediately, Jake's smile falters just slightly, his brow creasing in worry as he steps back towards you. "It's everything okay? Did something happen?"

A sudden on rush of tears are stinging at your eyes and you struggle to get the words out of your closing throat.

"I think I'm pregnant, Jake."

At first you can't tell what he's thinking because the look on his face becomes immediately serious. His smile vanishes and his brow lifts in surprise. "Oh."

"Oh?"  You echo, panic that you hadn't thought existed rising in your throat. Was he angry?

"No, I mean, fuck, that's great, baby," he quickly clarifies, reaching out to take your hand. "I just wasn't expecting that."

You stare at him, your panic rising even more now. Because that was not what you were expecting. "Great? No, it's not great. What do you mean, great?! I thought you said you didn't want kids?!"

Jake shrugs, throwing his hands up slightly in exasperation. "I mean maybe I didn't at one point, but things change, (Y/n). This isn't a bad thing."

Your eyebrows shoot up. Because this is quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened. "Are you kidding, Jake?! I can't be a mom! I'm a fucking fighter pilot!"

Now it's Jake's turn to look confused, like he's not quite sure where you're heading with this. Again, he shrugs, tossing up his hands. "So? I mean you would have to take some time off, but it's not unrealistic. People do it."

You look at him as if he's suddenly grown two heads. "Jake, you don't just "take time off" to raise a kid. That's not a temporary thing. That's the rest of my life."

Jake crosses his arms, going quiet for a moment before he sighs. "Okay, so quit. It's not like we need the money."

And suddenly everything you thought you'd ever known comes crashing down. There goes your career, your relationship, and the rest of your life. Your heart sinks to rock bottom in your chest because this is not how this was supposed to go. A broken, "What?" is all that escapes your cracked open chest.

Sensing your panic, Jake reaches out, his large, gentle fingers brushing your wrist. His voice is soft. "Look, I know this wasn't in the plans, but that doesn't mean it can't be. We could make it work."

You step back, pulling away from his outstretched hand as if he's burned you. "I can't believe that you would even suggest that," you say, the words 'so quit' ringing in your head. "Do you know how hard I worked to get to where I am right now?!"

Just being in the Navy as a female was hard. Even with going to the academy, the military was a man's world. You had to fight tooth and nail for every ounce of the respect that you deserved. And now to be here, where you are today at Top Gun, you've more than earned it.

Jake sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'm not telling you to quit. It was just a suggestion since you seem to think that you can't do both."

It's then that you come to the realization that he doesn't get it. No one gets it. 

"I don't think you understand, Jake. I don't fucking want to do it. I don't want to be a mom."

And to that, Jake doesn't say anything. He just stares at you, his usually warm green eyes void of the typical playful gleam that they hold. The two of you stand there in silence for a long time, allowing the the thick blanket of realization to finally settle over you.

"So that's it?" Jake finally asks, his voice sounding closed off and hurt. "I don't even get a say?"

"Don't try to guilt me here, Jake. You knew how I felt about this, and you still married me. So no, you don't get a say."

Jake looks down at his boots, hands braced on his hips as your words process. He swallows, and you know he's fighting the tears in his eyes. "Okay."

"Jake—"

He picks your bag back up from the floor and turns his back towards you, heading for the exit door. "Go do what you have to do, (Y/n). I'll see you at home."

——

When you get back home, Jake is sitting alone at the kitchen table. From the looks of the empty bottle of beer beside him, he's been there for a while. Head in his hands, as if to ward off a headache, he only looks up once you approach the table. His fingers twist at the ring on his left hand.

Quietly, you place the ultrasound prints on the table—face down so that you don't have to look at them. You open your mouth, the words 'six weeks' about to escape, when Jake holds up his hand.

"Don't— (Y/n). Just don't."

You know he's hurt and you understand why. But when it comes down it it, this is your life. No matter how much you love Jake, you aren't going to suffer with a child you don't want to have out of the obligation of your relationship. You cross your arms defensively in front of your chest. "Then what do you want, Jake? Because I don't know what to do," you admit.

Jake stares across the table at you, his gaze unflinching, before his eyes fall to the black and white prints.

"I'm all in, (Y/n). I meant that much when I married you." His fingers tug at the ring on his finger and this time it slips past the knuckle and into his palm. "Either you're in or you're out."

You stare at the golden band and his suddenly bare finger and realize that you hardly remember a time that it wasn't there. With your throat constricting, you look back up to the face of the man that you love.

"Jake," you begin, and your voice breaks as you say his name. "You're asking me to choose between you and my job. That's not fair."

Jake sighs. He sets the ring down on the table and stands up. You watch him with a sinking heart.

"It seems like a pretty easy choice to me," he says finally. "Because I would choose you every time."

The thought hits you that maybe this is you being selfish. You have always been a selfish person, even your mother had always told you so. Was it so selfish to choose yourself—your career—over a hypothetical future? The military was not a kind profession to females who wanted families. You had seen too many women settle for less in their careers because they decided that the timeline of rising in the ranks was too long to wait and they chose to have children instead. A coworker had confessed to you that despite how much she loved her husband and her children, her life ended when she had them.

Realistically, you couldn't have both. Jake knew that. You knew that.

You can't even look Admiral Simpson in the eye when you had him your letter of resignation.

[femdomlieeh]

Sunset (m)

Sub!Pussy drunk!Needy!Beomgyu (TXT) x Dom!Afab!Reader

THEMES—nsfw ✧ a bit romantic ✧ and emo ✧ just a tiny bit toxic ✧ a bit nasty

WARNING—4.3k wc ✧ public sex (car by the beach) ✧ good boy & bratty!beom ✧ oral (f rec.) ✧ body worship (f rec.) ✧ teasing (f/m rec.) ✧ face-sitting (m rec.) ✧ praising ✧ light degradation (calling him dirty, your little slut etc) ✧ hickeys (f rec.) ✧ spitting (m rec.) ✧ hand job ✧ crying ✧ brief cum play ✧ cumming untouched ✧ hair pulling (m rec.) ✧ pet names (mommy, baby, little slut etc)

NOW PLAYING—SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE ✧ Tyler, the Creator ft Brent Faiyaz & Fana Hues

M.LISTS—txt ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

A/N. To sort out any possible confusion, this is what the interior of the car looks like; vintage, flat like a bed style. BUT imagine it's a roof less car🤟

All rights reserved © femdomlieeh

You were sitting on the driver's seat with your right hand on the steering wheel, left hand up in the air, warm wind kissing your skin before you put it down to rest on the edge of the car door. He was laying across the passenger's seat with his head on your thighs, staring up at the sky. You were on your way to nowhere in particular. This was your definition of adventure. His smile was bright contrary to his past, his eyes were full of the hope of a child and his laugh was the sound of an angel. With his sock-clad feet on the edge of the door and his long, fluffy, soft hair on your exposed legs he lowly sang along to a song.

You were watching the road, he was watching the pineapple purple sky until his eyes were on you. Smirk grew on his face. God knows what was going through that mischievous mind of his.

You remembered his soft lips crafted by the most-detailed-and-in-love artist on the skin on your thighs. The kisses he left were so light, barely brushing against you. Your hand found its way to his hair, he looked up at you with those impure eyes as the kisses he placed got slightly rougher. He loved seeing your reactions to his touches, gaining your approval; the satisfaction of your pleasure. Insecure boy. And damn was he horny too. Or was he in love?

Maybe he just lived in the moment.

Who would have the idea of spontaneously driving to nowhere for no reason, taking off their shoes, resting their feet on the edge of a car driving in high speed to get fanned for free by Mother Nature, put their head on the driver's lap and start kissing their thighs?

Beomgyu.

That was the simple answer. Beomgyu and nobody else.

He was the kind of character you saw in films and wish you'd had the pleasure of acquainting yourself with in real life but you don't because those people came from someone's fantasy and were carefully written and too rare to find in real life. You were lucky to have met him. Your dear, sweet Beomgyu.

After some minutes, he turned his body completely and laid on his tummy so he could get easier access to your skin, instead of having to turn his neck to kiss. Wearing shorts today had its perks. Kisses were peppered with so much care as he put his hand on your left leg and caressed it lightly so it'd be occupied and get attention too. As each second passed by it got harder and harder to focus on the road. He was such a distraction and he knew it. He loved distracting you. He loved any attention you gave him really, whether it was direct words when you'd praise or degrade or just knowing he was present in your thoughts whenever he received a cute "I miss you" text during long work hours.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

After two extra passionate kisses he answered, "Loving you."

"I'm driving."

Kiss. "Yes." Kiss. "And?" Kiss.

"Can't you love me some other time?"

He looked at you. Kiss. "Impossible." Kiss. "I can't not love you." Kiss.

You put your hand on his cheek softly, "I love you too, Beomgyu." Looking at the road, you couldn't see him but you felt his cheek move into a smile against your palm upon hearing your words. You smiled back at him, taking a quick glance at him and detecting a strand of hair in his eyes. In a split second you brushed his hair away, before Beomgyu went back to kissing your thighs again. He had always been so affectionate towards you, showing how much he appreciates all of you: your mind, your face, your body — your everything. He was so good with his words, hands and lips. You loved all of him.

A slow Lana Del Rey song later his featherlight kisses grew deeper until he was sucking on your flesh, trying to create purple marks. "You're making hickeys? How juvenile."

He laughed at your comment. It was true. Last time he remembered he'd put effort into creating hickeys was back in high school. "Maybe, but I bet your thighs will be so pretty with hickeys on them," he went back to work, making sure to suck more harshly to emphasise his point.

You were starting to get wet. And it was hard concentrating on the road and trying not to look down at the pretty man's lips on your lap every minute. You were driving on an empty country road so, thankfully, nobody could witness this raw act of love. Five or six or — who knows? — that's how many hickeys Beomgyu had created already and he was not finished yet. He experimentally bit on your thigh, looking up at you to observe if you liked it. "Hmmm." His bite got a little bit harder, still looking at you. "A bit gentler, Baby," you patted his head. "Okey," he smiled cutely at your small action and nickname and went back to the same force as on the first bite. Fuck, you needed to get out of this car and fuck him soon or you would go crazy.

The sun had begun to set. 19:22. There was plenty of time until the sun was down and gone. The sky was still somewhat bright with colours of pink and blue. You wanted to watch this beautiful sunset with Beomgyu but he was busy with his face in your thighs. Your eyes were on the empty road, looking at the signs and trying to come up with where to go when you recognised a name you'd heard of before when talking with friends about a nice little beach trip — if you made a turn in a few kilometers, you would soon make it to a pretty and unknown beach. Perfect!

You looked down. So many hickeys scattered around only on your right thigh, the left one only being touched by his hand. You rested your hand on the back of his head, playing with his long locks, "You're so pretty." He mumbled a little thank you on your skin, back to kissing your thigh gently now.

It all felt so sweet and romantic somehow, his big hand massaging your left thigh, slowly moving towards the inner part, fingers ghosting teasingly on your naked skin. He was distracting the driver with his mouth and hands — how could he make that feel sweet and romantic to the point you almost forgot how irresponsible you were being? Almost. Your eyes weren't on him. Most of your attention was on the road and he was only getting a tiny fraction of the attention he craved so much. Because he needed all of your attention right now. Sure, he needed your hands stroking his hair but he also needed your smiling eyes on him and your sweet and mean whispers; eyes and mind full of him only.

Determined to get more of your attention, he moved his unholy fingers towards your pussy. "You're so dirty," the grip you had on his hair tightened and he whined. He would always do this, turn to being bratty if he didn't get enough attention from you. If a good boy wouldn't get all your love and touches at least a naughty boy was sure to get all your degrading words and oh so lovely punishments — and he enjoyed being your naughty boy as much as your good boy; he could be anyone and anything you wanted as long as it meant he was the sole object of your affection.

His whines were always so pretty and light, causing you to clench your pussy around nothing. It never failed to impress you how he whined and moaned whenever you were the one being pleasured and not him. He moved up a bit and kissed your shorts right above your clit. There was fabric hindering the full sensation but you still felt it a little, already so sensitive and wet from the teasing. He looked up at you. You had shorts on so it was a bit difficult to pleasure you the way he wanted to, but Beomgyu was creative and undid your zipper. As much as he wanted to pull down your shorts so he could properly eat you out — he wasn't that stupid and careless to actually do it when you were driving, right? — so you were curious where he was going with this but also nervous.

Nose pushing up your shirt so he could kiss the skin on your waist, naughty hand gliding under the shorts to feel your hip. There were no cars on the road — and there hadn't been for a while now — so you decided to tease him a bit back, put him in his place so he knows better than to completely ignore that you're driving and that he can't do everything he wants right now, he has to be patient and wait. You grabbed his chin and made him look up at you, looking back at him for a split second. "Open your mouth."

He did so even faster than you averted your gaze, waiting for your spit. "Aw, so eager now are we?" You said, still looking at the road.

"Please, look at me," he nodded and whined impatiently, mouth ready for your spit. He looked so pathetic, bedroom eyes and long, styled hair a bit fucked up from you gripping it. Touching your skin but not getting to feel your wetness, not getting to pleasure you was in a way teasing him too, his cock now hard and pink.

"You're so pretty, Baby." His mouth was still open but he almost looked like he smiled for a second.

You spat in his mouth fast, immediately looking back at the road. He swallowed it happily like always, no matter how humiliating and mean it was, especially since you didn't even look him in the eyes or let your saliva drip slowly into his mouth, much more intimate, like you usually would do. "Good boy."

"Thank you, Mommy," he went back to kissing your waist, nose under your shirt, eyes looking up at you. Your right hand went back to resting on his head, threading through his long hair occasionally. "Look at me, please." There was something about you spitting in his mouth that always turned him so pathetic and shameless about his neediness — if you wouldn't judge him for swallowing your spit then he could express himself sexually to the fullest.

"As much as I want to, I can't, Baby. I'm driving," you took a quick glance down at him. His eyes were so glossy, almost like they would fill with tears at any second. You were so distracted by him but you were still aware enough to only look at him for a maximum of two seconds at a time. Although you were driving below the speed limit and hadn't seen another car in the past half hour you didn't want to risk anything.

He whined at that, causing you to smile. Soon it would be the opposite. His hand went under you shorts again, moving down your hip and to your lower stomach. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. Spitting didn't help slow him down and learn to be patient. No, spitting so meanly in his gaping mouth was the first time he'd had almost your full attention during the whole car ride so he had to continue misbehaving so you would humiliate him some more, giving him more and more of your attention. Sweet, stupid, sexy Beomgyu was something else.

His long fingers went lower until they reached your slit, happy now. "Baby—" Then, somehow, under your tight shorts he managed to move your underwear to the side so he could slip his long, thick middle finger in you. "Hm?" he mumbled against your waist, mind half listening to you and half inside your pussy, eyes rolled back like it was his dick in your pussy and not just his finger. Fuck. You had to find a way to get off the road but you were not very familiar with this road or even this part of the country — but like said before, this adventure had no directions or map.

"Are you this desperate, slut?"

He pulled his hand out to stick his wet finger in his mouth, licking, savouring the little taste he got of your pussy and mumbling an 'mhm'. He wanted more. He didn't just want to suck on his finger. He wanted your pussy on his face, wetness on his tongue and all over his face.

"Please, look at me, Mommy," he mumbled like a slut, sticking his pussy wet finger inside you to lick your sweetness again, eyes never leaving yours, "Need your pussy."

"You have to wait, little slut," you soothed him with your hand on his cheek.

He felt like crying. He needed you to stop the car somewhere; anywhere, he didn't care if he had to lay on the cold evening sand on the beach that would get all over his clothes and hair or, fuck, he would even be ok in the woods next to a camp site with German hikers as an audience as long as you would sit on his face. He needed you and your attention now. His dick was leaking pre-cum and you had only touched his face and hair so far.

"Please, Mommy," he kissed your stomach, middle finger deep inside you.

"Baby, wait, be patient," you were struggling too. Maybe you should just say fuck it and drive across everything in your way until you reach the beach so you can park the car and then park your pussy on his face? (Obviously no, be a responsible driver!!)

He wasn't satisfied with your response, you didn't sound anywhere near as needy or bothered as he was — your eyes didn't even leave the road for a second to look at the man whose face was on your lap — so he decided to take matters in his own hands and began to finger you deeply, easily adding a second finger with how wet you were.

"Fuck, baby!" you moaned, grabbing his hair and arching your back, eyes still on the road.

He took the opportunity and, with the help of his unoccupied hand, pulled down your shorts mid-thigh, making you shiver at the cold you felt as your wet underwear was exposed to the air. He looked up and blushed when he saw you already looking at him with your needy eyes. You were looking at him! His lips moved down your stomach and lower until he reached your underwear-covered pussy, placing a big kiss on your clit. You arched your back again, the sensation was so much greater now that only a thin fabric was between you.

Moaning, you looked at the road and saw a sign that told you there was a parking nearby in 800 meters. Fucking finally! He began kitty licking you and at this point you were so sensitive and needy that you had to pull him up by his hair, much to his dismay as he whined and his eyes filled with tears. "Why?"

"Baby, I found parking."

"Oh! Fucking finally!" As if a switch was flipped, his frown turned into a smile, a tear escaping his eye. He leaned into your touch as you brushed the tear away from his cheek.

You slowed down and turned the car into the parking lot, which was just grass with faded sprayed parking lines, miraculously deserted. He started kitty licking you over your underwear again. You moaned, grabbing his hair, "Fuck, Beomie, can't you wait for a little until I've parked? You're really that needy?" "Yes."

You decided to park the furthest away, turned towards the dead beach so you could have a view of the sunset and ocean — and the yellow, orange, red and pinks of the sky reflected on Beomgyu's pretty face, dirt-colored eyes twinkling like stars. "Baby, fuck, slow down," you had to pull him off your pussy.

"I can't," he took this opportunity to fully pull off your shorts to discard them to the back. "You didn't give me any attention when I just wanted to love you."

You kissed his pout, "You will have all my attention now, Baby."

The pout turned into a smile. "Thank you, Mommy." He pulled your right leg up, positioning his face in your pussy, dropping your thigh on top of his neck. His tongue immediately went to work, kissing all over your pussy, underwear still on. He always liked eating you out with your underwear on first so he felt more rewarded when they were off and he could taste, smell and feel your pussy so much more.

But you were having none of that, pussy clenching around nothing, aching at this point. "Stop teasing me and eat me out properly," you pulled your underwear to the side, grabbing his hair to push him more into you. He was looking at you and you could see the smile in his eyes, content he had your eyes on him and your pussy on his tongue. You had been teased and turned on so much already that you knew it would only take a minute or two of his talented tongue to cum. He too could sense you were near, hearing your gasps and moans, feeling your back arching, looking up at your eyes. His hands were on your thigh and boob, touching you the way he knew you liked it. The way his hand moved up your thigh to grab your butt never failed to make you feel hot.

"Choke me with your thighs, please?"

"If my slut wishes it," you smiled at him, flexing your thighs around him a little, not sure how much he could handle yet. Hair matted on his forehead, tears filling his high eyes, hands grabbing your skin, moaning against your pussy, and the colours of the sky on him. You didn't know it yet, focused on the pretty view that was Beomgyu, but he was leaking so much pre-cum there was a stain on his pants from the sweet familiar taste of you, seeing you in pleasure along with the pineapple purple sky sunset behind you.

"Fuck, you're doing so good for me, Baby. Your mouth was made to eat my pussy, wasn't it?" He nodded, mouth still against your pussy, tears flowing by now. It was true. He eats it almost everyday, sometimes he'll lazily lap at your pussy under the sheets in the morning, sometimes in the shower if you'll let him (yes, he can do that), sometimes when you're watching a boring movie he will lay on his back on the sofa and ask you to sit on his face, sometimes he'll get on his knees as soon as you open the door to your home after a double date because he's jealous some other guy made you laugh a lot, sometimes when you're waiting for noodles to cook on the stove he'll give you puppy eyes so you'll let him eat you out on the countertop — fuck, sometimes when he's bored he'll randomly get on his knees in front of you and beg you to please let him have a taste. Safe to say he has learned every little trick to please you and make you cum in a few minutes just by eating your pussy. And he loves it.

"Mhm, you're such a good boy for me, my sweet little pussy hungry slut," you pouted at him condescendingly; he moaned at the mean praise, hips twitching up. You looked down at him, there was a huge wet stain on the front of his pants. "Awww, Baby, you're so wet just from my pussy. I should let you cum on it for being such a good slut, right?" His moans on your pussy were so desperate and sent sweet, sweet vibrations that tipped you over the edge, thighs shaking around his neck, "Fuck, I'm cumming, Baby." He slowed down, eating your cum, helping you calm down from the intense orgasm, not overstimulating you. But after a while it became too much, your pussy way too sensitive for his never ending kitty licking, so you opened your thighs and pushed his head away.

"You did so well for me, Beomie," smiling, you patted his head softly, seeing the sunset shine in his pretty eyes, your cum glistening all over his lower face, tears dried, lips pulled into a smile after he was finished licking them clean. You pulled him up from between your thighs to give him a kiss on his forehead after pushing some damp hair away, "You want to get your reward now, Baby?" He gulped, still, not answering your question. "Baby... Don't tell me you already came—" you pulled down his pants to have your suspicions confirmed; he did, in fact, cum untouched. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to cum without your permission, and I really wanted to hold back so I could cum on your pussy when you told me, but it felt so good to have your attention and taste you and-and— I couldn't control it. I'm so sorry," he cried, apologizing profusely.

You held him in your arms, fingers carding through his long, beautiful hair, "Beomie, it's okay, no need to say sorry. I'm very flattered actually. Besides your pretty mouth did so well for me that I can't be mad at you. You were such a good boy." He hummed against you, pecking your neck every now and then. After he calmed down, he pulled back to look at you; tears on his cheeks and half of the sun in his eyes. You dried his tears with your fingers and kissed him on his lips, calling him your good boy. The look in his eyes wasn't sad anymore. He gulped again before trying to give you his best puppy eyes, kissing the back of your hands. You knew he wanted something whenever he acted this clingy and cute, "Yes, Baby?"

"C-Can... Can I still cum on your pussy?"

You giggled, grabbing his cock, "You're hard again, this fast?" He hid his face with an arm, flustered, "Mhm. You kept calling me your good b-boy." "Awww my cute little slut. Getting hard from being called a good boy?" you giggled because although this was dirty, it was still somehow cute in a way how he got hard from your praise alone. He shook his head, face still hidden by his arm, "Your good boy." You smiled. "Mmm, Baby. You really are my good boy?" He nodded. You looked down at his dick, it was hard, pink and twitching, dirty with his previous cum. "Then show me your face, I don't want you hiding from me." His dick twitched and did as told. "Good boy." He shook his head, "I-I'm Mommy's good boy." He was always so cute and malleable whenever he came untouched and heard those sweet praises that tickled his soul. You kissed his shoulder as a reward. "Yes, mine. Now let me lay down so you can sit between my legs." "Oh yes." He did as told, hands behind his back without being told — he knew how you wanted him. You pulled him down to you momentarily to hold his cheeks and give him a quick kiss, both of you smiling into it. "I love you so much." "I love you more."

His pink dick was leaking pre-cum already. "My sweet boy won't cum without my permission again, right?" He whined, embarrassed, "I won't, Mommy, but please stop teasing." You giggled, he will cum any moment now you already know especially since he's so sensitive from his orgasm. Holding his dick confirmed your suspicions, Beomgyu moaning and dick twitching at your small touch. "Please, please, please," he muttered, tears already in his eyes, "Please, Mommy, I wanna cum on your pussy, please?" There was something about cumming on your pussy that drove him crazy, maybe it was because he would get an excuse to lick your pussy clean off him. "Not yet, Babyboy. I wanna play with you a bit first," you started moving your hand up and down on his cock, his loud moans following immediately after. He was struggling, biting his lower lip, pinching his arms behind his back, not looking at your naked pussy because he didn't want to cum without your permission again. "P-Please, Mommy. Ngh— I've been a good boy for you, please can I cum?" "Oh have you? Weren't you a bad boy the whole drive? And then you even came without Mommy's permission, right?"

He whined, tears running down his eyes again. "Please, Mommy, I'm so sorry I just wanted your attention. I-I always wanna please you and have your attention. Wan' be your personal toy." You smirked, going faster, "Yes, you are my little toy. So pretty and dirty for me." "Yes, yes, always. I— Fuck, I'm cumming, Mommy. Please, let me cum on your pussy, Mommy," he cried, looking at you with his slutty eyes. He knew how to get to you; how to look so sexy for you that you just wanted to reward him. "You can cum, my good b—" "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck— Thank you, Mommy." His eyes rolled back as white ropes of warm cum covered your pussy. "You did so well for me, waiting for my permission," you hugged him as he came down from his high, kissing his cheeks. "Really?" He pouted, fishing for more praises, which you knew and granted him, "Yes, really. My good boy." You kissed his pout, "Now clean up your mess." He smiled.

You and I, we fell in love

I ain't read the signs, ain't know what it was

But God gotta know he might have peaked when he made you

The cosmos' only mistake is what they named you (what that mean?)

They should call you sugar, you're so sweet

Even if

You left me out here stranded

My feelings wouldn't change a bit

My heart beats triple time when I see you

Somethin' I can't control

If I compared you, the sun is a stand-in (sun)

You got a smile that could light up a planet (smile) yeah (oh, oh)

And you look so good (yeah)

And you smell so good (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

And you taste so good (yeah)

And you're so, so good (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

You're the sweetest (yeah)

Yeah, you are, ha-ha

Sweet like, like motherfuckin' brown sugar sweet potatoes (are you ready?)

Or somethin'

Ha-ha

The plan was to stick my toe in and

Check the temperature, but

Next thing I know, I'm

I'm drownin'

— Tyler, the Creator

[awkward-walking-potato]

can i request for Logan howlett x reader who suffers from iron deficiency like one day reader just faint and it took some time for logan to notice makes him very panicked so since then he started putting more attention to you like reminding you to eat healthy stuffs or something like that it's totally up to you!! please and thank youu

The sun streamed through the large windows of the classroom, casting warm golden rays across the desks. The students were diligently working on their assignments, a mix of concentration and the occasional burst of energy that came with being mutants. You, their teacher, were making rounds, offering guidance and support where needed. Today, though, something felt off.

You’d been feeling more tired than usual, and the nagging dizziness that had been plaguing you for days now seemed to have reached its peak. As you leaned over to help a student with their history project, the world started to spin. You tried to steady yourself, gripping the edge of the desk, but it was no use.

“Miss? Are you okay?” one of the students asked, their voice distant and fuzzy.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your vision blurred, and everything went black.

The next thing you knew, you were lying on something soft—probably the infirmary bed. You could hear murmurs of concern from the students around you. Someone was trying to get them to leave, but their worried voices persisted.

"Move aside, bub. Let her breathe."

That voice. Deep, gravelly, and unmistakable. It cut through the fog in your mind like a knife, and for a moment, the darkness receded.

You blinked your eyes open, finding yourself staring into the intense gaze of Logan Howlett. He was kneeling beside the bed, his usual scowl softened just a bit, showing an expression of concern. The students had been ushered out, likely by Logan himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with worry.

You nodded weakly, trying to push yourself up, but Logan gently but firmly pressed you back down.

"Take it easy," he said. "You fainted. The kid ran to get me faster than I could blink."

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling embarrassed. "I didn’t mean to make such a scene."

He shrugged, as if fainting in the middle of class was no big deal. "Don't worry about it. You’re gonna be alright. Hank said it’s iron deficiency. You been skippin' meals or somethin'?"

You shook your head. "No, I’ve been eating, just… maybe not enough iron, I guess."

Logan grunted, clearly displeased. "That stops now. You need to take care of yourself, or you’re gonna be no good to those kids—or yourself."

You nodded again, grateful for his concern, but also a bit surprised. Logan wasn’t known for being particularly nurturing, but there was something about his protective nature that made you feel safe, even in your weakened state.

The next day, you were back on your feet and determined to return to the classroom. When you walked in, though, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Sitting on your desk was a smoothie, bright green and freshly blended. A small note was attached, written in Logan’s unmistakable scrawl:

Drink this. It's got spinach and stuff. - L

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the smoothie. You took a sip, surprised to find that it was actually pretty good. Your students filed in, and as the class went on, you found yourself with a bit more energy, the dizziness held at bay by the thoughtful gesture.

From that day forward, Logan kept surprising you. Some days it was a smoothie, other days it was a carefully prepared meal left in your classroom during lunch breaks. He never made a big deal about it, always leaving the food with a gruff note or a simple nod in your direction when he passed by.

It became a routine, one that you grew to rely on and look forward to. You knew Logan was looking out for you in his own way, and it meant more than you could express.

One afternoon, you decided to catch him in the act. You waited in your classroom, pretending to be engrossed in grading papers, but keeping an eye on the door. Sure enough, Logan slipped in quietly, a smoothie in hand.

“Caught you,” you teased, looking up at him with a smile.

Logan huffed, his signature scowl back in place. “Just making sure you don’t pass out on the kids again.”

“Thank you, Logan. Really. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable with the gratitude. “Ain’t no big deal. Just… take care of yourself, alright? We need you around here.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “I will. And I appreciate you making sure of that.”

Logan grunted, trying to hide the fact that he was pleased. “Good. Now drink that smoothie before it melts.”

You laughed softly and took a sip, the familiar blend of spinach, banana, and something sweet filling your senses. Logan gave you one last nod before heading out, but not before you caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As the days went on, Logan continued his quiet care, and you found yourself growing stronger, both physically and in your feelings for him. What started as concern had blossomed into something deeper—a bond forged not only from his protectiveness but from the understanding and respect you shared.

It wasn’t long before the other teachers started to notice the change in you, and in Logan, too. There were knowing looks exchanged in the hallways, but neither of you paid them any mind. This was your routine, your connection, and it worked for the both of you.

And as long as Logan kept bringing you those smoothies, you knew everything was going to be just fine.