#bc i remember the first time i saw it i went to the notes and they were full of people reassuring and encouraging the ogre

[mothocean]

Does anyone have the original ogre reading ulysses post

[noxtivagus]

head in hands FINAL FANTASY

[ugh-yoongi]

hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

waiting for a girl like you [s.h.]

an: hiiii so this is a lil something based off this ask!!! i hope this is kinda what you meant bc this is what came to mind and i just ran with it!! but lmk!! and feel free to send suggestions and i hope you enjoy

summary: steve thinks you’re made for him and that everything has led to you, and thank god for that.

no warnings just fluff and a little cursing!! steve being so horribly terribly down bad

wc: 1.8k

masterlist here!!!

Steve fell in love with you the way they do in the movies. 

One day it was just him and his friends, taking each day as they came and trying to make it to the next. He’d go to work, drive everyone around—mindless shit that kept him occupied. 

And then one day you were there. He remembers when he saw you for the first time vividly, probably because he played that moment on a loop inside his head for weeks. He still does sometimes. Compared to all the crazy shit he did it was something so mundane it made him laugh. He’d been walking to his mailbox when he saw a moving truck across the street and 2 houses down, movers filing in and out and he remembers how he’d turn to go back in, not at all interested in being the neighborhood welcoming committee when he saw you. 

Well it was a flash of pink that caught his eye and had him walking briskly back to his mailbox, letters and bills shoved behind his back so no one saw he’d already gotten his mail. There you were, a pink t-shirt that hugged your body just right, a sliver of skin showing between where the shirt ended and your jean shorts began. You were stunning and if Steve thought you were pretty, he wasn’t prepared for the wide smile you gave him when you noticed him staring, hand going up in a friendly wave before you lifted a box from the back of the truck and went inside. 

He thinks a little part of him fell in love with you right there, your bright smile and soft looking thighs enough to make his heart race and palms sweat. 

But he had no idea what was coming for him with you. 

It was a few days later that he saw you again, this time at the movie theater where you just so happened to work. Steve didn’t know this, he swears. And everything would have been fine if he didn’t have such a big mouth on him. The whole group had decided to go to a late night showing of some movie he hadn't heard of you and what gave him away was the way he stopped and gasped when he saw you behind the snack counter. 

See, Steve had spent the last few days going on and on and on about you to his friends. Granted most of them were kids a few years younger than him, but regardless he still droned on. So when they walk in and see Steve staring slack jawed at a pretty girl, it doesn’t take much to piece two and two together. 

The lot of you are only a few feet away from his new neighbor when one of the kids—Dustin he thinks—opened his mouth and had Steve smacking the back of his head a little too hard to be a joke. 

“So that’s the pretty neighbor girl you’ve been talking about for days?” 

“Henderson, I swear to god.” 

Steve cursed loud enough for you to hear, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath so he didn’t do something stupid. Dustin’s voice carried, unfortunately, and they all heard the way you’d snickered after he spoke. 

He’d basically had to drag his feet up to the counter, a blush working its way from his neck up to the tips of his ears as he tried to avoid eye contact. Everyone else stayed a few feet back, knowing that they’d pushed Steve enough for one night and would hang back and watch him suffer his way through buying snacks. 

“Pretty neighbor girl, huh?” Your voice held a teasing note that had Steve scratching at the back of his neck and sending you an awkward smile. He couldn’t do more than shrug, seeing how pretty you were up close for the first time was doing little to help with the embarrassment he was feeling. 

His brain was begging him to say something, anything! He wasn’t a stranger to girls, to charming them, but with you standing in front of him it was like his vocabulary had been wiped clean. 

He opened his mouth but nothing was coming out, brain on overdrive and yet, nothing! 

Even though he wasn’t saying anything, just kind of going back and forth between staring at you and staring at the popcorn machine behind your head, he watched the way your face stayed amused, intrigued by him almost. Your smile never faltered and your eyes seemed to be light as you looked at him. 

“I love a good staring contest but did you wanna order anything?” 

His jaw clenched at the laughs coming from behind him, smile grim as he ordered way too much junk, spent even more, and practically threw the candy at their heads behind him. 

Once he’d turned around he didn’t look back, embarrassment washing over him from head to toe. He felt nauseous for many reasons. One, you were fucking gorgeous. The type of pretty that he felt in his fingertips and that made his chest hurt. Two, he’d just made a complete and utter ass of himself in front of you and he wouldn’t be surprised if you never looked his way again. And three, he’d al—

“See you around, pretty neighbor boy.” 

His feet froze, body turning slightly to meet your gaze and he thanked god everyone else was far enough ahead that they hadn’t heard you. When he looked back you were perched behind the counter, leaning forward with your chin in your palm and a twizzler in your mouth, showing your teeth to him when you bit down and threw him a wink. 

Looking back he thinks—no he knows that he was fully in love with you then. And he had a sudden craving for twizzlers. 

———

It’s been almost a year and a half since that day at the movie theater—the best year and half— and as Steve watches you now, his chest feels warm and light. You’re laying on his bed in his favorite blue t-shirt and a pair of ankle socks, on your stomach with your legs bent at the knees, feet crossed and swaying in the air while you write in your journal. You’ve been going at it for almost an hour now and Steve is in his desk chair a few feet away, everything else forgotten as he watches you. 

He smiles to himself at the way you frown in concentration, staring down the words in front of you hard as if you’re writing the nation’s top secrets, and maybe you are. He sees the way you pause every few minutes to shake out your wrist where it’s getting sore from scribbling away furiously and he wants to come over and kiss it gently, kissing away the furrow between your brows too. 

The both of you kind of just fell together after that night at the movies. You’d see each other outside—Steve took to getting the mail every day now—passing each other in the mall or sending each other small smiles when Steve would come in for a movie, alone. And he’d be there once or twice a week after he found out you worked there. 

It went from seeing each other every few days to somehow being in the same places at the same time. He’s not sure if it was fate or coincidence or just pure luck, but he was grateful all the same. 

Bumping into each other turned into a date and one date turned into two and now you didn’t go without seeing each other for more than 24 hours. Always on the other's hip or you in his lap or him climbing through your window late at night. You’d become almost obsessed with each other and the group had welcomed you with open arms. You fit in beautifully and that mattered to Steve more than he’d ever admit to those little assholes. 

You must have felt him staring because he notices when you’re peeking at him through the corner of your eyes, pen tucked between your lips as you turn your head to look at him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something productive over there?” 

“Oh, I think I am.” He’s smug when you roll your eyes at him, amusement written all over your face. You always pretend like he gets on your nerves but he knows better, sees the way your lips quirk and your cheeks tint. He knows you love it, knows you love him. 

“What am I gonna do with you, Harrington?” 

“Marry me, I hope.” 

“Not if you don’t let me finish this, I won’t!” 

It’s not the first time he’s brought this up, and it certainly won’t be the last. He loves the way your eyes widen every time, a gasp falling from your lips as you curse at him, telling him to shut up. He might love to tease you with it but he’s never been more sure. Yes, you’re both young and while he’d love to marry you right here and now, he’ll wait. He’d wait until hell froze over for you, he thinks. 

The thing is Steve’s had relationships before, quite a few. None as serious as his relationship with Nancy, not until you. But he wouldn’t call any small relationship or fling he’s had meaningless, they were far from it. They all had a part in shaping him, helping him grow into who he was today. Was he proud of all of them? No. Proud of some of the things he’d done in the past? No. 

But those people, those things—even the shitty things he regrets—made him who he is. And that guy you love. They changed him, for better or worse, to be the Steve Harrington he is today. The Steve that’s watching you blush on his bed that you spend more time in than your own. The guy that has you. You, who’s wearing his initial on a chain around your neck proudly. 

He had to spend a lot of time working on himself, bettering himself even when it didn’t feel worth it at the time. But it’s all worth it now. Every breakup and makeup and loss and ass beating he took is all worth it when he looks at you. 

As cheesy and cliche at it sounds, he thinks you were like the missing piece to his life. You swooped it and everything fell into place and suddenly he wasn’t so worried about shit that didn’t matter and was focused on things that mattered like being around people he loved and caring for those people.

He knew as soon as he saw you that you’d been worth the wait, worth the shitty few years he’d endured and put others through. You made him good, whole. 

“Love you, ya know?” You always asked him, made sure he felt your love and support. He thinks he’d be lost without you. Fuck he knows he would. It’s nice to know someone’s in your corner unconditionally. It’s a feeling he’s still getting used to but will cherish forever. 

“Love you back, baby.” 

[junkissed]

leaning on the everlasting arms

member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe

as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.

his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.

you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.

you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 

the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.

when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.

you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.

and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.

back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 

more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.

but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.

you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.

you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.

there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.

you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.

but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.

that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 

“joshua?”

“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 

there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?

“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.

you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”

he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”

“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?

he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.

“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”

“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”

you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.

so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.

you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.

and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 

his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 

your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.

no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.

automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.

your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.

“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.

your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.

“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.

the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—

“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”

you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 

except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.

“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.

he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.

your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.

somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?

he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.

“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 

all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.

“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.

“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!

“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.

apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.

your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.

you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”

his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.

“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”

“what did you just say?”

you freeze. “what… did i say?”

when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.

you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”

he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”

“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”

he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”

damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.

you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.

“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.

you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”

the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”

“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”

he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”

you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”

“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”

“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.

“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 

you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.

“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.

“yeah,” you say finally.

“are you still touching yourself?”

you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”

and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.

“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”

your mouth falls open. “i–”

“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”

your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.

“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.

“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”

you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”

“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”

you suck in a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”

you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.

finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.

once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.

“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.

you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”

“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.

he chuckles. “oh, really?”

“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”

“and why is that, baby?”

the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.

“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”

his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”

“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.

you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.

“that’s not my name.”

you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”

“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.

you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”

“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”

“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.

it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.

“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 

“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.

he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”

“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.

after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.

“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.

with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.

you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.

the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.

“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.

and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”

you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.

a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.

you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.

it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.

you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.

oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.

he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”

and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.

your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.

you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 

joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.

“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 

“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.

“oh.”

he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”

“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.

his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“are you gonna expel me?”

“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”

you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.

he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”

the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.

you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.

luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”

“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”

he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”

you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”

your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.

“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”

his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”

except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.

the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.

“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”

“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.

he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.

it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.

he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”

you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”

“yes,” you say hurriedly.

he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”

“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”

his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.

he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.

he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“why don’t you find out?”

he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.

“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.

you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 

you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.

he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 

“always.”

he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."

and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.

you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.

he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 

but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”

your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—

but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.

when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.

“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”

in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.

with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.

he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”

you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”

“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.

“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.

in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.

finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”

you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”

he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.

“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”

his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.

he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.

the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 

“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.

your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.

he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.

your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”

you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”

he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”

you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.

“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.

“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.

“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.

your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.

you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.

he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.

“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.

he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”

“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.

he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”

you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”

first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?

“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.

“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.

he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”

you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.

“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”

you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.

when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"

he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"

"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."

his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"

you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."

after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.

he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.

so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.

it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.

you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.

you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.

he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.

"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"

he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."

"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.

"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.

in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.

his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 

your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 

cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."

“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.

his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”

you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 

he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.

with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"

his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"

his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 

he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.

your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.

his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.

joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.

"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.

his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.

"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.

he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"

you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.

it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."

he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."

he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 

"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.

and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.

the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.

he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."

he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.

"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.

you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.

"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."

you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.

"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 

a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.

his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.

"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.

"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."

"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.

he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"

you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”

being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.

you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”

it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.

you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.

everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.

it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.

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[alk4li]

“HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE—

cyno, thoma, neuvilette, alhaitham, diluc, kaeya

what type of relationships you have with the genshin men? a serious relationship, situationship, fwb etc.

a/n: i rewrote this sm times cus i wasnt happy with how it turned out

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP—

cyno

✧ ok i see him as such an amazing lover tbh

✧ would want to become a dad bc he thinks dad jokes are the next step towardsa higher level of comedic excellency

✧ tighnari begs you not to let this man have a child

✧ but despite knowing his job could endanger you, he trusts in your ability to protect yourself

✧ would randomly buy you trinkets that remind him of you bc hes usually away for so long

✧ he keeps a little box of momentos that he snagged from dates with you. it consists of things like tickets from events you both went to and seashells from the time you both went to the beach.

✧ will not shut up about invocation tcg

✧ almost went insane when you jokingly told him you didn't want to play invocation tcg with him

✧ when you do silly things he joins you without question

you laid down your living room floor with your hands outstretched towards the ceiling. you shut your eyes as you soaked in the feeling of the ceiling fan gently blowing wind. you heard a pair of footsteps approaching, eventually stopping next to you. you pry your eyes open to see cyno looming over you. "what are you doing?" he asked, gesturing to your limp figure. you prop yourself up on your elbows and stared back at cyno, "i wanted to feel like a leaf." you replied. cyno stared at you for a moment, before walking towards the windows. he reels the curtains back and shoves the window panels open, allowing a gush of wind in. intrigued, you stand up and watched as cyno began making his way back to you. "what are you doing?" you question cyno who was standing behind you now. cyno reaches under your arms and swiftly lifts you up, earning a shriek from you. "pretending that i'm a tree."

neuvilette

✧ probably a little busy for a relationship but tries to make it work

✧ i feel like befriending the melusines is a easy way into his heart lol

✧ you had a small interaction with neuvilette one day, probably bumping into him and he helped you onto your feet

✧ the melusines saw this and their minds started PLOTTING

✧ they bothered you and neuvilette every hour of the day for 2 months straight about a 'blind date'

✧ when you both finally agreed (the melusines lied to both of you that the other had agreed to get you to agree) you almost passed out when you realised who he was

✧ it worked out though, because now you're in his kitchen throwing apples at his head

✧ he gives out amazing advice too

✧ ah, what a man

standing at the entrance of the cafe, the melusines snicker and giggle. they nudge your calves, signalling you to enter. hesitantly, you step foot into the quiet cafe. you looked around, trying to find the guy the melusines have been trying to set you up with for the past 2 months. you nervously searched, looking for a man who was sitting by himself. when your eyes landed on a secluded seat by the windows, you almost fainted. with languid footsteps, you walked towards neuvilette, who had noticed you when you walked in. neuvilette stood and pulled out your seat, "have a seat," you gave him a small smile as he settled back in next to you. "i remember you, i bumped into you a few months back," neuvilette said, eyebrows raised in amusement. that's when an epiphany hit the both of you, "oh." he mumbled. "that's why the melusines kept pestering me," you giggled, taking note of a few colourful animal ears poking out from the nearby window. "well, let's at least entertain their wishes for a little." neuvilette nods at your request, flipping open the menu.

thoma

✧ 10/10 lover boy

✧ he wants a established relationship

✧ when he first confessed he was a MESS

✧ dreams of settling down with kids in inazuma with his lover.

✧ i feel like he would appreciate scenic dates more than dinners and shopping dates.

✧ he wants children in the future

✧ SUCH A FAMILY MAN

✧ he gets insecure about not being good enough for his s/o

✧ but he tries his best to build a future w you!

the streets of inazuma were lively and full of colour, the evening sun settling in the background. your footsteps blended in seamlessly with thoma's, with your hand laid comfortably in his callous palms. "ow-" a quiet voice rang behind you and thoma. shuffling is heard as you turn to see a child laying face down on the concrete pavement. releasing your hold on thoma, you stepped closer to the boy. soft hazel eyes looked back at your own, glistening in the light. a smile etched itself onto your face as you extend a hand towards the boy, he hesitantly takes it as you gently lift him onto his feet. "are you okay?" you ask. the boy shyly nods, a wince escapes his lips just as quickly. glancing down at his limped foot, a small gash on his knee starts bleeding. with swift movements, you grab a napkin to gently dab at his wound. spectating from behind was an awestruck thoma, something felt so comforting about the interaction. without a silver of doubt and unequivocally, "she is the one."

SITUATIONSHIP—

alhaitham

✧ this is a hill i will forever die on

✧ he's so rational.. would make a pros and cons list about dating

✧ definitely tells you "sorry, i love you but this will never work. you need someone who can be there for you."

✧ he thinks that with his work and your life, it would clash and create conflict

✧ whenever you argue about

✧ everyone has no idea what is going on, tighnari and cyno thinks he's dumb and kaveh thinks you're dumb

✧ kaveh doesn't understand why you stay with a prick like alhaitham

✧ he truly likes you but his heart will forever lie in his love for his study and craft.

✧ he wouldn't tell you to wait for him because he's calculated the optimal time for dating and it's undefined

✧ sadly, he will never have enough time for another lover

alhaitham's embrace flushed against your weary skin. his room sat too silent yet too loud. the only sound you heard was the gentle beating of althaitham's heavy heart. his hands cradles your own, "i don't understand why you keep distancing yourself," a raspy whisper falls from your lips. alhatham instinctively draws your body closer to his own, his face moves towards the valley of your neck. feathery light touches grazes your forearm. "this was what i was worried about. you would be unhappy with how absent i am," the words hang coarsely in the air, cold to the touch but burning in your heart. you breathed in sharply. “this is why a relationship would be a bad idea.”

anger rose in your throat, “that's different. you're absent now because you're choosing to avoid me. you’re being selfish.” breaking free from his embrace, you turn and pin your fiery eyes against his emerald ones. however, he could only reply with a solemn look, “the probability this will turn out well is zero,” he replied. alhaitham knows how probability works, it can never truly be zero, but it can also never be ensured that this would turn out well. alhaitham is just a man that wouldn't take that risk.

diluc

✧ this man has no time for lovers (and way too traumatised)

✧ but does the occasional fancy date

✧ the type to leave you hanging for 3 business days

✧ makes it up to you by buying flowers after realising his mistake

✧ all in all he doesnt see this as a long term thing, so dont get too disappointed

✧ but he also can't take the feeling of losing you because he can't stomach the idea of losing someone he loves

✧ it's a hot and cold goose chase

✧ you'll be a happy for a week then he ghosts you for another week

curling in the comfort of your couch, you sulkily wolf down a bag of snacks. it has been officially 72 hours since the last time you heard back from diluc. the red headed man had disappeared without a word three days ago. after a night out, with a promise to pick you up the next day. it has been well over the decided time, and diluc is once again, a no show! a loud knock is heard against your door, there's a silent pause before another loud bang was heard. you pull your weight and drag yourself to the door. in front, diluc stood, a rare display of panic in his eyes, a bouquet of flowers clumsily clasped between his arm. you slant against the door frame, disappointed eyes stare back at his. "im so sorry, i just got so caught up on works and," he uncharacteristically fumbles over his words, guilt eats away at him as he eyes your sunken and tired eyes. you nod, looking at your feet. "i figured," there's a moment of ghostly silence. diluc hesitantly reaches forward, lightly resting his palm on your shoulder, testing the waters. when you don't push him away, firm arms wrap around your head, pulling you into his chest. a chaste kiss on your forehead, diluc gently rubs your back, "i'll make it up. i promise."

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS—

kaeya

✧ bsfr this man is too traumatised for love but would chase the adrenaline of it

✧ he doesn't want something a hassling as a situationship, no strings attached!

✧ he's still really cordial with you tho, treats you well

✧ buthonestly.. don’t get too attached or expect much, mans has been through the wringer of life

✧ lisa suspects something going on between you two but has no evidence to prove it

✧ amber just thinks you both are secretly dating

the feeling of kaeya’s rough arms clinging to your abdomen shakes you awake, suddenly realising that you’re wound up in his bed. again. the movement makes the male beside you stir, he groggily props himself up on his elbows, rubbing his temples, “morning, y/n. slept well?” a grin spreads across his face as he grabs and pulls you back onto the mattress. “great, actually. dreamt about monstadt without kaeya alberich,” you joke. kaeya rolled his eyes, gently punching your shoulder. “how awfully boring, who would accompany you to insufferable events then?” kaeya teases, poking at your sides. despite how domestic it all felt, deep down you both knew that by 12pm, these memories would slip into another void along with the other many escapades.

[writtnbyhan]

NFWMB.

PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader

TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1945

PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan&lt;3

You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.

You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.

So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.

You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.

Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.

“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.

“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!

You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.

“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”

She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.

It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.

After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.

Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).

Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.

“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.

“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.

He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.

“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.

“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.

You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.

“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.

“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.

“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.

“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.

“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.

The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.

“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.

“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”

“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.

“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.

That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.

“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”

Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.

Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.

You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.

“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”

Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.

“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.

Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.

“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.

[watermelonlovershigh]

i went through your masterlist and i saw you wrote about the reader being insecure about having an outie (literally thank you for even writing about it !! i’ve never seen anyone write about that insecurity before) and i was wondering if you could write about the reader not letting harry go down on her bc she’s insecure about her outtie and harry doesn’t know about her insecurity until he questions why he can’t eat her out and he’s all loving to her afterwards ☺️

"Can I taste you?" /SMUT/

AN: i loved this ask as soon as i seen it because a perfect scenario of how i wanted this to go came to me. and thank you. outies are the most common for women to have. but all vaginas are beautiful. i hope you enjoy and remember to send your feedback to let me know how i've done. thanks for reading. xoxo ps. i debated on posting this today or not after the events that happened two days ago, but i hope by posting this it can distract some of your minds from the devastation of recent tragedies.

This story contains: mentions of a verbally abusive ex, body insecurities, comfort, smut (female receiving oral sex), fluff

{ boyfriendrry - soft!harry - au!harry - dating for three months }

word count- 2,512

You have major insecurities about how your body looks due to an ex boyfriend, so when your current boyfriend Harry asks if he can taste you for the first time, your reaction forces him to give you comforting words to easy your worries.

Over the course of three months, you and Harry have been dating and it's been an incredible experience. Normally, you spend your time at each other's homes, watching films or playing board games. But recently, Harry has been putting more effort into making your time together special. Therefore, when Friday comes, he wanted to take you out for a pleasant dinner instead of remaining indoors throughout the evening.

It's worthy to note that your relationship was initiated by mutual friends. Tina, a friend from your college years, and Carter, who works with Harry, were neighbors growing up. Upon discovering they both had a single friend from their separate lives, they took the initiative to set the two of you up. Although you felt quite anxious about the blind date, you now have no regrets, as it's introduced you to the wonderful person that Harry was.

Another important detail regarding your relationship is that the most intimate you've gotten is making out. You informed Harry on your first date that you wanted to take things slow, and he's respected that boundary. Your first kiss was shared approximately five dates in, and you didn't engage in making out until the sixth date. Although you very much desire going further with your sexy boyfriend, your fear of intimacy is getting in the way, which stems from some very hurtful things your verbally abusive ex once said to you. It's brought your confidence way down and the idea of having sex ever again terrifies you.

Your dinner date was delightful. Harry brought you to an Italian restaurant situated in downtown London, where you had great conversations and delicious pasta. After your meal, Harry invited you back to his place, and you found it hard to say no. You appreciated the warmth and coziness of his charming house. Unlike the standard apartment or house of many millennial guys, Harry's home had the inviting essence of a grandparent's house, specifically the ones that were smoke-free.

As you arrived back to his house, both of you made your way to his couch, where the atmosphere began to shift drastically. During the car journey, it was clear that Harry was restless, his hand lingering on your thigh as he navigated the road. Yet, this version of Harry is unlike any you've previously seen. He kisses you with an intensity that's almost primal, and you find yourself responding eagerly. His large hands gently holds your jaw as your mouths align, and your tongues dance together.

With a brief pause from your lips, Harry begins trailing kisses down your jaw until he reaches your neck. Although he hadn't ventured this far before, the pleasure was so intense that you don't think to stop him. However, your response to his soft inquiry against your warm skin—"Can I taste you? Hhm? I really wanna taste you."—caused your entire body to freeze. This reaction leads Harry to withdraw his lips, concerned that he was progressing too quickly for your comfort tonight.

"Shit, m'sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. Forget I said anythin'. Can just keep kissin' if you'd like. Or not. We can cuddle if you're more comfortable with that. Whatever you want." Nervous Harry tends to ramble a lot, you've come to learn.

The sight of Harry's distress concerning your potential rejection of his suggestion evokes a feeling of sadness within you. You want Harry to, have a taste, as he puts it. You're certain of his talents in that department. Yet, the notion of him seeing you entirely fills you with anxiety. "Um, no, it's not that I don't want you to. It's just um... well..."

"What is it, Y/n? You can tell me. I'd never judge you?" Harry speaks softly, wanting you to know he'd never judge you for your reasoning, nor would he push you to do anything you didn't want to do. It was a mere suggestion on his part from being in the heat of the moment.

With a deep breath, you decide to share, "Um, my ex, the one I've mentioned before...... Well, anytime we'd get intimate, having sex or other things, he would constantly criticize my body. He would highlight specific areas that he found unappealing, often saying how I didn't look like his past partners. He even suggested that I get surgery to resemble the women he viewed in porn." It's now apparent that his addiction to pornography significantly influenced his views, causing him to adopt an unrealistic standard of beauty for women to have.

Shocked, Harry exclaims with anger bubbling in his chest, "I can't believe he would say such things to you. M'sorry. I want you to know that I would never think or express those words to you. Every body is uniquely different, and that's what makes us who we are. When you're ready for us to be fully intimate with one another, please remember that your appearance will never concern me."

His warm words have a profound effect on your heart. Although the remarks from your ex continue to echo in your thoughts, the notion of Harry eating you out becomes increasingly enticing. Dismissing your anxieties, you respond with certainty, "We can... I mean, you can if that's what you want to do. I trust you, Harry. It’s not that I was ever against the idea of you eating me out or us eventually having sex. Just um, my ex's criticisms left me feeling insecure about how you would view my body. But after sharing what I did, I feel better about it and trust you enough to go there with you."

Harry looks directly in your eyes before confirming, "You sure? I don't have to if you think it's too much tonight. We can always wait until you feel more comfortable."

"I'm sure, Harry." If he keeps stalling and looking for your reassurance, it may lead to you overthinking the situation and reconsider your permission. The quicker he begins, the better. Harry leans in to place a final kiss on your lips before he slowly kneels down in front of you. With a measured pace, he starts kissing up your jean covered legs, moving from your knees to your upper thighs. When you felt his fingers exploring your empty belt loops, you gave a nod, giving him the go-ahead to slide the fabric down.

After your jeans have been entirely taken off and carelessly thrown onto the living room floor for later attention, Harry looks down and notices a wet patch on the front of your underwear. A smile forms on his face, pleased to see that you've become so aroused just from kissing. He wonders how you've manage to stay so composed during your past make out sessions when things didn't progress further like they are tonight. He's knows for himself personally, he often had to sneak away to the bathroom to relieve himself after your dates when lengthy kissing sessions were involved.

In a display of bravery, instead of waiting for Harry to ask if he could pull down your panties, you raise your hips from the couch and start removing them yourself. You consciously avoid looking down, fearful of his reaction, and keep your eyes fixated on the ceiling. When Harry catches sight of the lower half of your exposed body, he appears bewildered, unable to identify any imperfections that your previous partner could have mentioned. You look completely normal in his eyes.

In the past, Harry has slept with several women and with each one, has appreciated their bodies as they were. To him, as a grown ass man, pussy is pussy, regardless if the women was clean shaven or rocking a bush. Whether her lower lips were petite or more pronounced, he found all variations to be perfectly normal and enjoyable. (As long as they were clean, hygiene wise, of course.) Just like he's aware no two dicks look the same either.

"Y/n, look at me."

You cast a hesitant glance downward, where you notice a gentle smile on Harry's face, making his dimples pop out more prominently. He extends his hands to grasp yours, which are resting at your sides, and speaks in a soothing tone, "Do you know what I see, Y/n? Hm? I see a perfectly normal vagina. It appears entirely typical. In my past experiences with various women, I can honestly say that many of them resembled yours. I believe what yours looks like is quite common, at least based on what I've seen in person. What is often seen in porn is largely artificial. Many of those women undergo surgeries to achieve those Barbie lookin' genitals. So do not allow anyone to convince you that this *gestures towards your pussy with his hands* is anythin' but natural, normal."

His sincere compliments nearly bring you to the brink of tears. Where has Harry been all your life? He's always so kind and nurturing. His personality is completely different from any man you have ever dated or had a fling with. He seems to be the epitome of perfection, and you're starting to think that you might be in love with him, even after just three months of dating.

Just before he starts, Harry asks a final question. "One last question before I begin. Did your ex at least manage to make you come when he ate you out?" He's eager to know this information to ensure that he can provide an exceptional performance, aiming for you to come hard from just his tongue alone.

Shaking your head, you respond embarrassedly, "No, um, he typically only spent a few minutes down there, and it was never long enough for me to reach an orgasm." It perplexed him how any man, apart from a gay man of course, could limit themselves to just a few minutes of giving oral pleasure to a female, when he personally could easily immerse himself in a woman's pussy for an eternity. Engaging in such acts may very well be his greatest passion.

"We'll have to change that, won't we." Harry speaks seductively right over your damp pussy, his hot breath bringing chills up your spine, and moving one of his hands out of your grasp to rest on your pubic bone. Maintaining eye contact, you observe as Harry leans in and traces a broad line from the hole in which your dripping from, up to your clitoris. He then proceeds to circle his tongue languidly around your clit while his thumb holds back the hood for more exposure, prompting you to arch your body against the couch in pleasure. The sensation his tongue is giving you is far more pleasurable than any experience you had with your previous partner(s).

With one hand still intertwined with yours, which remains at your side, Harry stays persistent in licking, sucking, and almost devouring your entire pussy as if he hasn't eaten all day. He eats you like a starved man. Eventually, he lets go of your other hand and splays it out on your bare thigh, encouraging you to spread your legs wider for him. You find it increasingly difficult to keep your legs from closing as he concentrates on your throbbing clit.

Harry realizes now that your hands are no longer in his, they seem to be longing for something to hold again. Momentarily withdrawing from your slick cunt, he instructs, "Put your hands in my hair. I don't mind. Pull and tug as you please; it won't hurt me, promise." With a hint of hesitation, you comply. You lace your fingers through his brown curls and as soon as his mouth returns to your clit, you can't help but tug on his hair, drawing him impossibly closer to your core.

He carries on for another three minutes, making your sensitivity levels escalate and your body grow warmer. With one final, firm tug on his hair, you cry out, "Oh my God! Mhm, fuck! I'm gonna come, Har......Harryy!" At that moment, an overwhelming sensation washes over you. As Harry continues to flick his tongue over your pulsating clit, you hold his head tightly against you, not caring whether he can breath or not in the moment. As the intense orgasm envelopes you, your mind becomes completely empty of any worries or thoughts.

Slowly, the intensity of your high starts to subside, leaving you breathless on Harry's couch as he gradually removes his mouth from your sensitive pussy. While your eyes focus their gaze on the ceiling, you felt the soft caresses of Harry's thumbs tracing circles on your bare thighs, which finally compels you to look down. The first thing you notice is his face covered in a glossy substance from having been nestled between your legs, and then a smile that was unmistakably joyful.

You're completely lost for words. That may have been a stronger orgasm then you've ever given yourself. "So...." Harry begins nervously, "how was that?"

"Um.... wow, that was.....just wow."

Harry finds amusement in how he's rendered you at a loss of words. "Made you speechless, have I?" he teased. You nod in agreement, prompting him to continue. "See, I promised you there was nothin' to fear. Your pussy is as beautiful as it is tasty. You should never feel self-conscious with me; I'd never pass judgment on you for somethin' out of your control." His honesty touches your heart. He consistently proves himself to be a true gentleman, elevating your standards for men to a very high level. You really hope this relationship lasts, because you believe it'll be difficult to find someone as perfect as Harry ever again.

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

Harry assisted you in cleaning up and asked if you'd like to stay the night. You had spent nights together in the past, alternating between each other's homes, but those times generally involved sharing a bed without cuddling, as Harry was uncertain about your comfort with such closeness. However tonight, after he'd seen you half naked with his face between your legs, your comfort level had clearly advanced beyond what it had been previously.

After both of you got into bed, you remained on your individual sides until you felt bold enough to initiate cuddling with your boyfriend. You realized that Harry was being cautious still, so you decided to move closer, laying your head on his chest and draping your left arm over his waist. "Is this alright?" you quietly asked in the dark room.

Harry quickly loosed his stiff body up and wrapped his arms around you, so he could hold you close. Whispering back, Harry replied, "Definitely alright. I love cuddles." Now that you know Harry loved cuddles, you'll have to give him cuddles more often.

Soon sleep found you both and the house became quiet. The only sounds that could be heard was your soft breathing and the rustling of trees outside. After tonight, you feel way more confident to go further with Harry. Matter of fact, you hope you can go further with him really soon. Just the thought of that brings excitement to you, and certain parts of your body.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722

My Masterlist Masterpost

[kikitakite]

I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!

No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.

Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.

In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.

He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.

I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.

For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.

The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.

That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.

A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.

I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"

And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.

It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.

[savannahsdeath]

As a lil ellie request, would u mind writing smth about reader being mad at ellie bc she was a little reckless on patrol and got hurt, so she dosnt let ellie touch her while she rides her? <33

this is my first request and i absolutely love it so how could i say no 🤭

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: ellie was reckless during her usual patrol so you decided to give her a lesson

warnings: 18+!! smut, strap (r!receiving), wound, mean!reader, begging

writers note: i actually love this idea sm?? also dear anon sorry if its not something you expected but its just how i imagine that:3

You were waiting for your girlfriend to come back from patrol, just like every day. Except today she took her fucking time.

The sun has already set, so instead of waiting in the couch, as usual, you decided to go to your bedroom. You knew you won't fall asleep, not until she comes back. You needed to see she's safe if you want to sleep peacefully.

The door's opened.

You heard her entering the living room, surprised you're not there.

"Babe?" She frowned.

You quickly ran up to her. You were already mad she came home so late but after seeing her you were truly pissed of.

Her jeans were rolled up, exposing her leg covered in messy-bloody bandages.

"What the fuck happened?" You almost yelled, kneeling in front of her and unwrapping it.

"I might get bit." She said with a shrug, like it's a normal thing. "They almost killed Jesse, so I covered him. Ya know, he's not the immune one."

You went to the bathroom to get fresh bandages and alcohol to clean the wound. The bit was small, it (whatever 'it' was) probably barely touched her. You quickly started patching her up.

"So what, just because you're immune makes you think you can risk your life?" You chuckled mockingly.

Her leg stung from the alcohol and it took all of her efforts to not groan out in pain.

It was almost more frustrating that she was so nonchalant about it. Like, you knew she didn't care about herself, she rarely ever did, but her putting herself in harm's way because she's the immune-whatever was just annoying. You wanted to yell at her and drag her into the house and never let her out again, but you also didn't want to sound like a controlling jerk.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" Ellie smirked. You rolled your eyes at her response to your concern. She always liked to push your buttons, and this was only one of times she does it.

You finished cleaning and patching up the small bite on her leg, and the wound looked almost healed. You went back to the bathroom to to throw away the used bandages.

You leaned over the sink, splashing some water in your face and gathering your thoughts.

Maybe you overreacted?

Suddenly, when you looked at the mirror, you saw Ellie standing behind you with her hands wrapped around your waist. Her breath tickled the side of your face as she pressed herself against you.

You felt the bulge in her pants and your eyes widened. There's no way she was wearing it at the patrol, but then again, when did she manage to put it on?

"I can make it up to you." She whispered.

You couldn't completely give in. She deserved a lesson and you doing whatever she wants would have the opposite effect. Still, you couldn't resist her now, could you?

Before you could push her away, she kissed you. Her lips were so possessive, like she's intentionally making you as breathless as possible, so you won't manage to speak - you won't manage to say no. The truth is, you didn't want to say no. Not to her.

She was slowly pushing you towards your bedroom, which was (luckily) opposite the bathroom.

She pulled away to let you catch your breath only when you were sitting on her lap, not able to move because of her strong grip.

After she unbuckled her belt, she lied down as you sat on top of her. She gave you one of those 'you know what to do' looks.

And that was the moment your bratty attitude came back, as you remembered how reckless your girlfriend really is. Of course you craved her strap, but you wanted to somehow make her regret her stupid antics, so you decided to take it your way.

She was the type of person that needed to touch you. Going on a walk? - Her hand is either on your waist, back pocket of your jeans or tangled with yours. And while you're fucking she had to hold you. Even though just the sight of you is enough to make her go insane, she could never keep her hands away from you.

This time wasn't an exception but you wanted it to be.

You spared yourself all the little games and you started riding her instantly. Gripping her hips for balance, rolling your eyes back and moaning her name.

For her, you looked like the most precious thing in the world right at this moment. She just loved seeing you fuck yourself dumb on her cock.

Her hands started desperatly touching your body, as if to make sure this isn't a hallucination. But you quickly pulled them away.

She had no idea what your point was, she narrowed her eyes and frowned. Suddenly she smirked as she remembered your previous 'argument'.

"Don't tell me you're still mad." She chuckled breathlessly.

Usually you'd try to be as quiet as possible, embarrased by how Ellie can make you feel. This day you were anything but quiet, hoping to make her mad.

"I may be." You moaned out.

She closed her eyes, loudly exhaling, as she seemed to think about something.

She tried touching you a few more times, not successfully. You were holding back a laugh at her confusion.

"Don't be like that, I know you love my touch. Just let me... It would be a win-win situation." She tilted her head, staring at you taking the whole strap without her help. At this point, what you did was cruel.

"Are you seriously so mad at me for this little bite that you're going to make me just helplessly watch?" She continued, her each word sounded more and more exaggerated.

"What, can't stand it?" You said mockingly, continuing to whimper.

"Of course I can't fucking stand it!" She covered her face with her hands as looking at you made it worse and she wasn't able to just look away. Her hips were thrusting, just a little, as she hoped you won't notice.

You couldn't hold back your laugh any longer. She was really losing her mind, or at least pretending to. You couldn't tell. But it sure was funny to watch her squirm.

Your smirk grew with each response, knowing her patience was wearing thin and she would soon be begging for you. She was clearly pissed at the situation, but she wanted to play it cool at first. However, that facade melted with your each mocking response.

"Just let me touch you." She whispered, her voice becoming more needy and frustrated. "I need this."

"You know what I need?" You grinned in between your groans. "An responsible girlfriend who doesn't think her immunity is an excuse for... everything."

She scoffed, but she didn't care about the answer. She just needed you. The frustration was building up to the point where she wouldn't be able to take it soon. Her hands started pulling at your shirt as if she wanted to discretely show you she wants it off of you. She had gone mad, and you loved every moment of it.

"Please, I can't take it anymore." She moaned, her voice breaking every word with a new breath.

"There she is, starting to beg." You laughed as you pushed her hands away again, gentler this time.

Of course you didn't feel as good as you did when Ellie was helping you - there's just something about the way she guides your hips on top of her. But you had to keep your cool this time.

Her hands kept reaching for you, but you kept pulling them away. She was frustrated, and her voice was getting angrier.

"Stop playing hard to get."

It was clear she had almost reached her limit. She didn't care about anything anymore, she just wanted you.

You whimpered and teased her some more, which drove her completely mad. She was at her limit and couldn't handle it any longer.

"Please... please... please." She begged desperately, pulling at your shirt. "I'm going crazy, I need you..."

The sound of her voice broke you. You couldn't help but stop and start giggling to yourself, amused by the desperation in her tone.

But you didn't dare push the game any longer.

[velvetvexations]

Can confirm I've been on here for years now and before Gamer Gate and then the rebirth of Terfism happened the widely accepted feminist talking point was that men suffer under the patriarchy and how we need to talk about that because one of the fastest ways to get cis men on our side was to show them we were already on their side!

I remeber posts with hundreds of thousands of notes talking about how men are assumed to be worse caregivers than women to the point that in custody battles even if the mother is beyond a shadow of a doubt the worst abusive mess ever and the dad is the embodiment of a perfect parent the kids will end up with the mom. It doesn't even matter if the dad says he wants the kids and the mom says she doesn't, the women still gets assumed to be the better caretaker!! This is misogyny effecting men!!

And I know MRAs are terrible but I remember a video going around talking about their recruitment points, like how more men die doing dangerous jobs and the draft or men getting no help when they've been abused by women and being assumed to be violent predators even when they haven't done anything and like yeah, they 100% came to the wrong conclusions about what causes the problems and what the solutions are bcs it's easier to act like women are the problem, but those problems as they were introduced in the early 2010s were actual problems feminism is trying to address, and if these men could see that we are fighting the same fights and join US we'd be stronger. There was a prominent internet feminist who got full on red pilled just by listening to men tell her about their real actual problems, and the time they pulled the rug out on blaming women it was too late, she was convinced, because yeah women aren't the real problem at the root of men's issues they do HAVE ISSUES. The trick is that they just need to tackle the patriarchy, not women. I also saw stuff that legit talked about how to recruit men by pointing out how badly the patriarchy "serves" them!! (GamerGate quickly ruined any and all salient points that existed in the MRA movement bcs the internet is a feedback loop and anger is easy/fun sadly but yeah I feel like it's weird to act like they were always wrong no matter what when they at least did point out real problems.)

And like RBG partially made her name in the courts defending a CIS MAN on the basis that he was being discriminated in a way a CIS WOMAN would not have been, and the ruling allowed for insane amounts of progress for women. A man not being allowed a tax credit to hire a nurse for his bedridden mother is one of the first things that challenged discrimination on the basis of sex in America. But sure men ONLY gain benefits from the patriarchy. It NEVER hurts them too!! And helping them won't benefit us!!! Making them our allies is silly they should all shut up 🙄

Hell back in the 2010s I still remember seeing trans men talk about how horrible and alienating it was for all of their female friends and family to suddenly start acting like they were a threat, and not just pointing out the inherent transphobia, the guy went on to talk about that they finally get why cis men are the way they are, they suffer from systemic emotional neglect. And yeah that obviously does not mean women owe them emotional avaliablity and sex, but maybe the patriarchy telling men to be big tuff guys who never hug or cry or like anything even a little girly HURTS THEM and is a direct cause of a LOT of the problems we're dealing with rn!!! There was a whole study about how widows tend to live a lot longer after their husbands because they have friends and family to lean on and weren't taught to suppress their emotions, meanwhile widowers tend to die VERY quickly after their wives because they no longer have someone who it's okay for them to be open and emotional around, and not having someone you can do that with KILLS PEOPLE. People were saying again, this does not mean women HAVE to take on all their problems, but maybe that we need to stop assuming men don't need emotional support and teach our sons to not be afraid of being ulnerable, honest people because systemic emotional neglect IS BAD FOR YOU ACTUALLY.

These were ACTUAL conversations that swept this damn site. This was the direction feminism was going in. We were on the cusp of a beautiful age of 4th wave feminism with the knowledge that the patriarchy seves no one well and free the nipple and no gender segregated bathrooms and sports, and now just pointing out that we need to maybe understand the ways men struggle under the patriarchy if we've ever going to have them join and help us build a better world gets my inbox flooded with both terfs and so called progressive feminists calling me a gender traitor for being willing to admit men arent the source of all the world's ills and WE NEED THEM ON OUR FUCKING SIDE. I used to proudly call myself a 4th wave feminist back when people still claimed to be of the 3rd, and now idk what I even am. A bell hooks and leslie finberg feminist I guess, since they actually seemed to get it.

Yeesh. Anyway sorry that got heated. This has just ruined my brain. I do not understand where tf we went wrong, bcs hell back in the day we also pointed out how TERFs were wrong to want men and people they perceive as men and those "tainted" by men put to death for existing so they could build their stupid white supremacist wombyn utopia. We KNEW hating men just for being men was wrong and regressive and hurt maringalized men and did NOTHONG to push feminism forward. We talked about the issues that men face and how to raise our sons to be better. But idk I guess Gamer Gate and the Incel movement took off right as TREFs figured out the whole ace and truscum discourse thing wasn't working and they just needed to doctor their arguments against men better and radical feminism took off and this entire site regressed 1000 years and thinks trans men of all people are just as bad as cis men and trans women have a monopoly on an entire axis of oppression like?????

And I'm not putting the blame squarely on anyone aside from the radfems who started this shit but it does NOT surprise me that we are seeing a massive resurgence of biphobic, transmedicalism, and aphobia since half the queer discourse I see these days is anti-transandrophpbia assholes just word for word repeating the kind of blatant aphobia and truscumery that would have gotten you suplexed off the face of the earth in the 2010s with the identities swapped. Just word for word monosexist aphobic shit. Legit is giving me flashbacks, it's insane.

I have never in my life been more disappointed in my community of queer feminists. This is masks all over again. Like is this how kids who grew up evangelical feel when they realized actually the adults didn't mean literally love all your neighbors silly just the Correct ones?? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. What the hell happened to us.

Thank you for writing all this anon, you put enough work in it I'm gonna toss it in the tags, I think it deserves to be seen. <3

The problem with MRAs was never that they believed men had problems too, but that they used certain things - like their disadvantage in custody hearings, for instance - as a cudgel in a malicious crusade against a target they hated anyway for not fucking them. Now with as quick as people are to say things like "what, are you saying androphobia exists too?????" it feels as though we've completely forgotten the actual reason we ever hated MRAs to begin with.

It's the same with the dating article where the most basic possible interactions between two adults mutually seeking a hook-up were taken to be pick-up artistry.

[sematarygirls]

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ   You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

[twipsai]

god, this took me DAYS to make, but i finally finished my interpretation of Dedf1sh and Paul throughout the years!!! some notes under the cut lol

2015

Ahato and Marina are childhood friends, Marina was even there for her when her parents passed. Marina helped her take care of Paul when they were growing up to the point that Paul considered her a second big sister. this, of course, changed when

the two worked on music together when Ahato wasnt working (which she got increasingly busier up until she left to go to kamabo), and the melody for Chopscrewey and Crush were made by them during this time!

while Paul was a musical genius, he did struggle in school quite a bit as his creative drive often overwrote his working drive :P

the skull/octo logo is a logo they made for themselves for when they got to the surface and formed a band together

Ahato dropped out of school to work full-time to support her and Paul (which,,, isnt very uncommon for octarian families)

2017

the Kamabo sanitization program (tm) requires patients to remove strings such as shoelaces and hoodie strings from their clothing to reduce the risk of them trying to strangle themselves or each other, which is why Ahato doesnt have shoelaces

Paul didnt go to the surface until he was recruited to Sashimori, and started living with the three of them

Ahato has amnesia, she knows she had a family, but cant quite remember who they were or where she even came from. most of her memories are muscle memory, which is why she remembers how to make music and such

Ahato cant hear anything around her-- she wont become out-right aggressive when approached like most sanitized octos are, but she will be a little jittery and on-guard

2022

im not really prepared to say too much about Ahato/Acht here bc of how little we know about her role in side order as of writing this (1/7/2024)

Paul has mostly moved on from trying to find Ahato, while he does wish they could be reunited, a lot of his memories of that time have become fuzzy... he wouldnt be able to recognize her face if he saw it.

Ahato's dress got ripped when she first left kamabo (which was a few months after octo expansion)-- she found some red thread to stitch it up and lace up her shoes! :D

on that note, the addition of more red in her design is to symbolize how more and more memories of her life are resurfacing-- same thing with being able to see her eye on her visor

also her eye is supposed to look like a turret from portal lol

Paul regularly commutes from inkopolis to splatsville-- i think he went crazy for the alterna tracks when they were first recovered lol

andddd,,, thats it!!! if you have any questions about my headcanons for these two, feel free to ask in my inbox!!! though i dont have EVERYTHING fleshed out yet, im still waiting for side order to release before i figure it all out ^^;

[madockisser]

cardan/nicasia: why they’ll never happen again analysis/speculation

a while back i saw someone (or rather, a thread of ppl saying that they hope cardan and nicasia don’t get it on in the next book which is supposed to be nicasias book (supposedly) and i even saw someone say they WISH THEY DO ?!

so here’s your fun reminder of what nicasia put cardan through!

I’ve gathered together all the shit nicasia did to cardan: being the first girl he loved then breaking his heart w his friend, allowing cardan to catch them ON HIS BEDROOM FLOOR. (not entirely her fault but she totally had shits and giggles abt it when cardan confronted her) then when Locke screwed her over, she got CARDAN and his power as prince, to harass the girl(s) locke chose over her, one of which cardan liked, then later on was trying to manipulate him to marry her (which i think is when cardan realized they weren’t rly even friends anymore), THEN kidnapping and torturing the girl she knew cardan loved, AND befriending his abusive neglectful mother!

like damn. how u even fumble that bad, not just romantically but as a friend.

also I’d like to add her consistent entitlement, not just the whole “i bully girls bc I’m a princess and i can!” but the “cardan take me back even after i emotionally ruined you multiple times!” ��

poor cardan

anyway, I’ve read lots of holly black books, and she is VERY mindful w abusive sort of relationships. and cheating relationships. she writes about them a LOT and each time they are pretty irredeemable.

note(the only exceptions):Taryn and hazel (darkest part of the forest) who sorta cheated on accident/ it wasn’t their fault-> but didn’t end well

add on note sorry: “but nicasia cheated on cardan on accident bc Locke was a gancanagh!” false! nicasia admitted that what her and Locke were doing was prolonged, the scene that cardan finds them is not their first time screwing around. nicasia KNOWINGLY cheated on cardan. then she was like “ok but i still care abt u! take me back” ?

now you can say that it could sorta be classified as an accident due to lockes natures (which are actually really disturbing if u think abt it) and that’s true, i never blamed nicasia for that relationship, but i do blame her for all the utter dogshit she not only put cardan thru, but Jude.

and this is cardan we are talking about. he who killed half an army for Jude when madoc tried taking his daughter back (sounds funny out of context).

we must remember that cardan does not want Jude hurt and humiliated and that’s exactly what nicasia went and did to Jude. through all the books bro. nicasia literally kidnapped and tortured Jude in the undersea so there’s 0 chance of cardan touching nicasia unless maybe to turn her into a tree again (but he can always just do that at a distance 😛)

anyway back to the cheating:

which is why i know that holly would never pull any sort of bull w cardan and nicasia, and you may be thinking (well that’s bullshit what do u know?) 3 separate books w cheating tropes, and 5+ diff relationships that involve cheating w no redemption. LOL

anyway black and i certainly agree on that front, and the way she uses the trope so consistently, and makes it so the cheaters are never endgame, or have a horrible death (Locke AND his mom, also Eva Duarte 😭the dude Ben dated from dpotf, and Kaye and that guy Janet was dating, Val and Tom and dave and lolli (modern faerie tales)) is pretty telling!

holly is great at writing healthy relationships, and she knows that tcp is her biggest hit w the media, so she won’t go and fuck that, not just bc she would never and it’s out of her writing style and character and literally moral compass when it comes to writing relationships, but also bc her publishers/editors would NEVER let that slide.

but i can’t wait for her book! i love knowing that nicasia will never have a chance w cardan again, it’s no less than what she deserves 😋

anyway sorry for ranting! I just feel so strongly abt this topic, cardan would never cheat on Jude, since he’s been cheated on before, and it was heart wrenching, and bc of his upbringing, he would never. if you haven’t, go thru my masterlist in my pinned and find the cardan /nicasia thing where i explain why he wouldn’t cheat far better there!

But feel free to add on, i probably missed a few things so lmk!! 🫶

[atinyniki]

mistakes and apologies.

group: stray kids !

pairing: ex-cupid!hwang hyunjin x human f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, hyunjin is referred to as jin, jinnie, hyune, blood (ish?), reader kinda is a dumbass, intimacy, mentions of sex (no smut), ANGSTTT, taehyun is readers ex-boyfriend, harin is taehyuns girlfriend, pregnancy, mentions of cheating, new relationships and the pain thata goes along with it, hyunjin starting his life as a human being, hyun = taehyun hyunjin = hyune (its meant to sound similar so jinnie gets jelly >:)) ), crying, drinking and alcohol.

authors note: (pt. 2 of cupid's arrow) repost of an old fic but took out the smut part of this bc... it didnt seem important. there are still sexual parts in this fic !!! remember that before reading please :) this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 5892

“y/n! i’m home!”

you walk over to the door, excited to see your boyfriend after he went out for groceries. he took a lot longer than you usually would, but you guess it’s because he’s never been grocery shopping before.

the second you saw him though, you realized you were completely wrong. your heart felt like it was going to explode again.

“how do i look?”

you walk over to him, twirling a couple strands of his now black hair around your finger. you beam at him, “it looks so pretty, jinnie...”

hyunjin’s heart swells in his chest. you’ve done this so many times before. when in bed, doing his makeup, while you’re reading, you always have your hands in his hair, but you’ve never done it simply just to admire it.

the look in your eyes slowly has him shying away, averting your gaze and settling his eyes onto your shoulder instead. “thank you…”

you grab some of the bags from his hand, bringing them to the kitchen and putting some things in the fridge. “i’m sorry, i wanted to look more… you know… human i guess? the pink stood out a little.”

you walk over to him and smile, tucking some of the black wisps of hair behind his ear. “why are you apologizing jinnie? i said it looks pretty on you! i love it.”

“oh. i dunno, i just- i know how much you loved my pink hair.”

he sets down the bags onto the counter, eyeing you as you approach him. you cup his face in your hands, smiling at him. 

his cheeks burn red at the proximity of your faces, and you finally give him a quick peck on his lips. “i love you hyune, you know that right? a hair color isn’t going to change how i feel about you, dummy”, you giggle.

he hasn’t gotten used to the whole relationship thing, but it’s safe to say he’s loving it so far.

“thank you, i love you too”

“i got the job!”

you jump up, walking over to hug him. “i’m glad, you deserve it. you’re really talented hyune” 

though it’s happened many times, he’ll never get used to your praise. it seems like you always know what to say in the moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

he holds onto you tight, pulling away a little to kiss your cheek. he giggles, “thanks y/n…”

after a moment of comfortable silence, you pull away and take his hand in yours. “come eat, i made dinner”

you both sit down at the table, talking more about his new job as a dance instructor. “when do you start working?”

“monday, and i only work weekdays”

you hum in acknowledgement, taking another bite of the jjajangmyeon you made. “how long do you work? just so i know in case we have to schedule things.”

“four hours a day, i start at four”

“hmm… okay”

he continues eating, surprised he’s never had this dish before, but then again, food was different up there. you grab onto his hand, smiling at him while you wait for him to finish eating.

he finishes his bowl not too long after, only to turn and see you staring right at him. you giggle, trying not to sputter out a laugh. “is something wrong?”

you smile at him, “you have a little sauce on your face”

“what? where?”

you point to where it is, but he misses. “here, let me”

you swipe the sauce away from his lip, and look back up into his eyes. he stares back with wide eyes, inevitably getting flustered at the little action. you pull him down by his shirt to kiss him once, pulling away not long after and bringing the bowls to the sink.

he stays sat at the table in surprise, is it normal to be so flustered all the time?

“hyune? are you in- oh…”

the pale yellow glow of his wings lit up the room just enough to see what was in front of him. he quickly shuts off his phone, where he has the reference photo, and almost knocks over the canvas in the process.

“don’t look…”

you giggle, walking over him and hugging him from behind. “awh… jinnie”

you watch as his cheeks flush red, and he brings his hands up to cover his face. “shut up…”

you pry his hands off his face and kiss him on the cheek, exaggerating it with a loud ‘mwah’. you see the smile erupt on his face, and you couldn’t stop anymore. you begin peppering kisses all over his face, sitting down on his lap somewhere in between.

he finally pulls away, only to finally kiss your lips. you deepen it, running your tongue along his bottom lip, silently asking for permission. of course, it’s not like he can resist anyways.

you tug some of his hair, earning a groan from him, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. “hyune…”, you whisper.

he doesn’t let you continue, kissing you again and standing up, holding you against him. you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, the painting long forgotten. 

he climbs onto you, tugging on your shirt with his hands. you quickly throw it off, taking his off next.

“need you…”

“are you okay? do you need anything?”

“hyune, you’ve asked me that like… six times”

“oh… sorry”

you giggle at him, grabbing his arms and pulling him back down onto the bed. “come here”

hyunjin has put on a shirt already, but you’re still completely bare. you hold him close to you, giving him little kisses on his face and watching him giggle. 

his eyes are fixed onto your face, practically unable to wander anywhere else when he has this gorgeous sight in front of him. “you’re so beautiful”, me mutters as he kisses your cheek.

“i love you hyune”

his eyes widen again, it seems like he hasn’t gotten used to you saying it yet. he nuzzles into your chest, looking up at you again and kissing over your collarbone. “i love you too”

he wraps his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “you know, i look forward to this everyday.”

you giggle, “what, sex?”

he smiles, “no, just to hold you.”

you blush, “oh, i-“

“shh… just rest now. need you close to me…”

your fingers graze his wings a little, and he immediately relaxes into your hold. yeah, you can definitely get used to this.

“open it!”

“i’m scared, is a spider going to jump out of it or something?”

“what?! no! just… just open it.”

you slowly take off the lid, spotting what looks like a mini photo book inside. “what’s this?”

“my sketchbook.”

you look back up at him, “don’t you need this?”

“it’s my old one, look inside”

you hold the book, admiring the work done at the front. pretty flowers are scribbled onto the cover, and you run your fingers along the grooves. you open the book, and your jaw drops instantly. 

you flip through the countless photos he’s drawn of you, even one of you on your first “date” at the cafe. you still remember how your nose bled so bad that day, and you smile to yourself.

“well, do you-“

before he can get his question out, you pull him into a soft kiss, smiling when you hear his surprised yelp. 

“i love it. its beautiful, hyune…”

his heart swells in his chest again, something about these moments felt so special to him. he hopes he’ll remember these moments forever. 

the honeymoon phase can only last so long, right?

you walk over to the snacks section, trying to find those chips that hyunjin really likes, but you can’t remember what they’re called. you stroll through the aisle, looking for the packaging.

you spot the light purple bag, picking it up until you hear a voice from beside you. “y/n?”

you turn your head to where you heard it come from, “hyun? hey!”

he walks over to you, it’s been a while since you’ve seen him last, only ever seeing his posts with his girlfriend. “how are you?”

he giggles at the question, but you’re not sure why. “good, i see you’ve been doing well.”

you give him a questioning look, until he begins playfully nudging your shoulder. “so thankful for my hyunnie”, he says in a mocking voice.

you quickly push him off of you, “shut up, taehyun”

“awhh, but you love him don’t you?”, he asks with pleading eyes. “yes, i do, now shut up about him.”

he giggles again, “is someone getting flustered?”

you finally turn towards him, rolling your eyes, “fine then, how’s your girlfriend hyun? don’t you love her so much?”, you giggle.

you watch as he flushes red, god you’re both in deep shit. after laughing at him for a little, he speaks up. “i actually came here to um… get a pregnancy test”

your eyes go wide, and your head shoots up to look at him. “wait… really?!”

he smiles, nodding at you. “we’ve been trying for a while”

“that’s great! you should probably get going now then, i don’t want you to worry her.”

he hums in agreement, smiling and bidding his goodbyes. you remind yourself to text him later to ask about it. 

you’re glad you stayed on good terms.

“what? really?! she’s really pregnant?”

“yes!”

“oh my gosh! i’m so happy for you guys!”

“how are you and hyunjin?”

the conversation went on for hours, it’s been a long time since you’ve really talked. you missed taehyun. not as a lover of course, but as a friend. he always knew how to listen to you and help you.

you try to block out the bad memories, the rejection and heartbreak. you wished you stayed friends, maybe it would be a lot easier to talk to him without all that history.

you start making the jjajangmyeon, hyunjin’s new favorite dish, with the phone at your side. “yeah he’s really come to like my jjajangmyeon so i make it a bunch”

“ah i see, harin loves jjajangmyeon too! maybe we should plan a double date”, he giggles.

you were so lost in the conversation that you didn’t even hear him coming through the door. he hugs you from behind, almost causing you to drop the pot you were holding. 

“god! you scared me…”

you pick up your phone, “sorry hyun, hyunjin just got home. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“of course! enjoy the food”

“thanks, bye hyun!”

“bye byeee”

you end the call, turning around to hug hyunjin properly. “dinners ready, i made you your favorite”

he gives you a tired smile, and you both sit down at the table with your plates. “who were you talking to earlier?”

you know he wasn’t being suspicious, and it was just out of pure curiosity, but the way he said it made you giggle. “oh, that was taehyun”

he hummed in acknowledgement. “never heard of them before”, he smiled. “yeah, he’s an old friend”

“ah… i see”, he takes another bite of his food, almost deep in thought. he knows very well who taehyun is, hyunjin was your cupid after all. but it seemed to fly over your head, you thought of hyunjin as a normal person now, your lover. 

“hyune? you okay?”

he looks up at you, smiling again and kissing your cheek. “just tired. missed you…”

you giggle again, hyunjin never fails to make you smile. “i missed you too hon.”

the silence felt truly comfortable with hyunjin. not too long after, you bring him to the bedroom, running a bath for him and slowly undressing him. 

“thank you…”

you give him a little kiss, “don’t thank me. this should be the bare minimum.”

after a moment of silence, you wonder why he hasn’t gone in yet. “is something wrong?”

“yes.”

he quickly undresses you, and you let him of course, although you’re a little confused. you expected him to be tired, not wanting any intimacy right now. 

instead of sitting on the bed, he picks you up and sets you down in the bathtub, settling in with you not long after. 

“need to be close to you…”

you massage his aching limbs with the foamy bubbles, smiling and kissing his face every so often. you know he’s working hard, and you just want to take care of him for now. “sorry for being so clingy.”

“don’t apologize, i need you just as much.”

you’ve finished the movie you were watching with hyunjin, finally grabbing the new book you bought to read. hyunjin stays put in your lap, enveloping himself in your warmth.

you start to read, the room completely silence aside from your breathing. “y/n?”

you were a little startled by his voice, but answered him. “yes jinnie?”

“can you… um- read to me?”

you giggle at him, poking his nose. “of course darling.”

you continue to read the romance novel, reading most of the soft scenes. hyunjin can’t help but imagine the both of you two in the book instead of the characters. 

his breathing stills, but he’s still awake. you don’t know that though. you continue to read, until you get a phone call. “hello? taehyun?”

hyunjin continues to act like hes asleep, scared that you’ll get mad if he interrupts. “hey y/n! how are you?”

“oh i’m pretty good, just reading a book right now. why what’s up?”

“well, harin wanted me to invite you over! i think she’s crazy but she really wants to meet you. says you remind her of her sister.”

you giggle, “oh yeah of course! when?”

“when are you free?”

“well, i can come over right now if that’s okay with you”

“of course! will you be bringing hyunjin?”

“no i don’t think so, he’s sleeping right now”

you both say your goodbyes, and you carefully slip off the couch, setting hyunjin’s head down into a pillow and covering him with a blanket.

you quickly get ready, leaving hyunjin a note on the table and giving him a peck on the forehead. you enter your car not long after, driving over to taehyuns.

hyunjin quickly got off the couch to check the note. 

‘going to taehyuns! he wanted to see me. i’ll be back soon love, make sure to eat!’

of course, hyunjin couldn’t hear the other end of h the phone call. he didn’t really know that taehyun had a girlfriend, or that you were going more to meet her rather than see taehyun. 

maybe you should’ve worded it better…

it’s been happening a lot now, you’ve been leaving the house to talk to harin and taehyun almost everyday. 

of course, hyunjin didn’t want to talk to you about it though, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. he didn’t want to be jealous, he really did trust you but… he just couldn’t help himself.

he didn’t know how to approach you about it, so he planned on telling you when he got home. he just wanted to talk to you for a little bit, because truthfully, he just missed you.

“y/n? i’m home!”

he continues looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. he lets his wings out, wanting to relax for a bit. he looks for the note you’ve probably left on the counter. 

picking it up, he reads it, but it’s no surprise you’re at taehyuns. at least you leave a note, right? he walks over to the kitchen. maybe it’ll be better to talk about this over dinner?

it probably would be, if his wing didn’t get stuck between the door to the pantry. “fuck-“

he tries opening the door, but only folds the part of the wing. he screams in pain, trying to get it out carefully. it doesn’t budge. tears start leaving his eyes, he can’t escape. he does the only thing he can, and grabs his phone out of his pocket.

he calls you. no answer. he calls you again. no answer. fuck it.

hyunjin: y/n i need your help.

hyunjin: it’s urgent, come home please

hyunjin: y/n please?

no. answer.

shit. what now?

he tries prying himself out, but he pulls too hard. a loud scream echos through the empty house, hyunjin falling onto the floor. the half of the wing that’s been torn off has completely disintegrated into various colors of glitter.

a pink liquid drips from the inside of his torn wing, and he quickly grabs a tissue to stop it. he waits for it all to dry, and puts away his wings. 

maybe it’s better to rest for now. all of a sudden, he gets a phone call from an unknown number.

“hello?”

“hi! is this hyunjin?”

“yes it is, what can i help you with?”

“oh! im taehyun, im sure y/n has told you about me. long story short, we went clubbing for some fun and she got incredibly drunk… i don’t think she’s in proper condition to drive. is it okay if she stays over for the night?”

his heart sinks into his chest, he prays taehyun won’t take advantage of your vulnerable state right now. 

“oh yeah, of course. thanks for taking care of her.”

taehyun can hear the pain in his voice. “hyunjin, are you okay? i can drop her off and pick her up later to get her car if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“oh i’m okay! sorry… just hurt myself a little earlier and im a bit tired”

“ah i see, hope you feel better soon!”

“thanks taehyun. have a good night, text me if you need me”

he couldn’t stand waiting for a goodbye from taehyun, only hanging up and opening his messages again.

he unsends all the messages he sent you, scared you’ll feel bad for not being there. it’s okay, you were just drunk right? you wouldnt ignore him.

at least he hopes so.

“hyune? i’m home!”

“hey baby”, you hear from the couch behind you.

“oh gosh! you scared me”

he lets out a giggle, but you heard a different emotion laced into the sound. “sorry, just wanted to relax here for a bit.

“is something wrong? you texted me yesterday but it said you unsent the messages.”

“oh, no nothing happened. i was just asking about if you were coming home, but taehyun called me”

“oh okay! do we have any juice?”

“yeah, i bought some for your hangover. check the fridge.”, he replied a little coldly.

your heart clenched a little, confused as to why he was acting like this. you grab the juice and pour yourself a glass. 

you notice traces of glitter on the floor outside of the pantry. “hyune, why is there glitter on the floor?”

“oh, just residue from my wings.”

“oh…”

it’s quiet once again, and you walk towards the couch.

“are you okay?”, you ask a little quietly.

“just tired”

“oh… okay”

a moment of silence passes. normally it’s comfortable in eachothers presence, but this time it felt suffocating.

“i love you hyune”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, clenching his fists to ease the pain coursing through his veins.

“i love you too”, he answers, a little slower than usual.

you sit down next to him, nuzzling into his warmth. he has every right to be mad, but he wraps his arms around you anyways. he’s still upset, but he’ll talk to you when you’re in the right mind.

that time never came. you went over to harin’s every day since then, normally coming home to see hyunjin already asleep. 

this time though, you don’t expect him to be standing right at the door waiting for you.

“where were you?”

“what? you know where i was. i was at hyuns”

he didn’t mean for the next question to come out so harsh, but he couldn’t help it. “are you cheating?”

your eyes go wide, “w-what?”

“are you cheating on me with taehyun?”, he asks again sternly.

“hyunjin that’s crazy, why would you even ask that?”

“you’re really gonna say “thats crazy” instead of denying it?”

you scoff incredulously, “no, i’m not cheating on you.”

“i- i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”

“then why would you even ask if you’re so certain?”

he goes silent. a tear leaves his eye, his entire façade cracking. your heart felt like it was going to explode… not in the good way.

“i… i wanted to trust you. i wanted to believe you- but you… i don’t know anymore.”

“fine. text me when you realize you’re wrong. i’m sleeping over at harins.”

“who’s harin?”

“taehyuns fiancé.”

his heart stops.

“what? why didn’t you say he had one?”

“because, i thought you’d trust me to begin with.”

hyunjin’s eyes go wide, but before he can say anything, you turn around and leave. his heart feels like it’s been torn into a million pieces.

was it his fault then…? no… surely not…

life felt empty without you. hyunjin didn’t even have a life before he turned human, but it felt even worse without you. the person he’s been with since birth. the person he’s been through everything with, even if you weren’t aware of it.

his life was basically ruined without you. he doesn’t know when you’re coming back. it’s been two days already. the house is cleaned, he makes your favorite foods for dinner just hoping you’ll come back, but you don’t.

he spends his time painting, but he’s painted all he can. he has no reference photos of you anymore, he’s run out.

days pass… he’s forgetting the sound of your voice. he doesn’t want to. he sends you apologetic voicemails everyday praying you’ll send one back. you don’t.

taehyun has been calling him a lot too, assuring him that you just need time. he didn’t say it, but he knows you should’ve told hyunjin about his fiance first. maybe this could have all been avoided.

hyunjin can’t help but think it’s all his fault. he let his insecurities get in the way of rational thinking. of course you would never cheat! but… was the love you had even real?

it was all because of that stupid arrow, right? what if the spark you had was finally gone? he doesn’t want to think about it.

he quickly picks up another small painting, laying in bed and holding it in his hands. he doesn’t know if it’s right, or if it’s obsessive. all he knows is that he misses you. it’s been almost two weeks.

he’s been off at work, not as great as he used to be. he’s not the same without you, and it’s eating him alive.

“hey y/n… it’s been almost two weeks now. i miss you a lot. i’m sorry for not trusting you even though ive said it so many times, im just scared you’re going to fall out of love with me. maybe you already have… im sorry i have no way to get these feelings out other than to talk to a photo. i’m sorry i ever summoned that arrow, and im sorry i tore my wing. i wish i was good enough for you, i really do, and im sorry im not. i love you, and i miss you. please, come home soon. i just want to see you again. goodnight”

it’s become a regular routine after you didn’t answer his text or voicemails at night. he couldn’t call you, he couldn’t reach you in any way, but talking to you, or something that resembles you, helped him get those feelings out.

he drifts off to sleep almost and hour and a half later, he’s been having a lot of trouble with that lately.

you walk up to the house and unlock the door, trying to be as quiet as possible in case hyunjin was sleeping. 

you almost cry at the sight of him again, various paintings piled up onto the dresser on your side of the bed. you take off your clothes and change into more comfortable ones, sliding into bed and being careful not to wake him up. you don’t succeed though.

hyunjin notices you in bed, but waits till you’re asleep to say anything. he knows you need rest, and you need a lot of time too.

you fall asleep not too long after, your breathing becoming even. should he really do this right now? it’s not like he had a choice, anyways.

he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. he whispers to you, afraid you’ll be mad again if he wakes you.

“hey y/n… i missed you a lot. im so sorry for pushing you away from me. i shouldn’t have done it, and ill take the blame for what happened. i know i should’ve trusted you, and im sorry i didnt. i also really regret summoning that arrow when we met. why did you have to stab yourself with it? you know you’d be much better off without me, right?”

you feel a teardrop fall onto your neck, but you don’t dare make a noise. you need to hear all of this and plan out your apology.

“i’m glad you’re back. i was scared i’d forget your voice. ive learned how to cook just for you, and i made your favorite foods in case you came home. i made so many paintings of you. i even… i even read that book. the one you read to me that night before you went to taehyuns house for the first time. i read over the paragraphs that you read to me, trying to hear your voice say the words again. it didn’t work.”

you turn around finally, almost sobbing when you see him again. his eyes go wide, scared that he’s hurting you even more, and he backs away. “no! hyune… don’t go. tell me how you feel, please.”

he hesitates for a moment, but when you hold his hand in yours it all comes crashing down. 

“i love you so much y/n, but i can’t help but think you’d be better with someone else. im trying my hardest, but i always let insecurities get in the way of us. i should’ve trusted you. i don’t know why, but i just can’t see myself with you anymore because i know you don’t deserve it. you don’t deserve someone like me. you were forced to love me. you didn’t have a choice… but now you do. now you can get over me and fall in love with someone else, now that you know what it feels like. and… i can go back to being your cupid again. is that… okay with you?”

your heart stops. “what? no! no that’s not okay with me?! how could you even ask that hyune? i… i love you… i needed time to figure out how to apologize because… hyunjin- none of this is even your fault! it’s mine. i always went out with taehyun and never invited you, and i never even mentioned his fiancé! no wonder you got jealous… and even then i- i didn’t even give you any time. i always came home when you were asleep and that… that’s not okay. that’s on me. this is my fault hyune… please don’t blame yourself.”

“i’m sorry im asking you this again, and i really don’t want you to say anything to just sugarcoat it. promise you’ll be honest?”

“i promise. whats going on hyunjin?”

“do you really love me? it’s okay if you say no! i’ll understand, i promise… it’s just because of the arrow, right? i’m sorry i-“

you cut him off with a kiss, you couldn’t stand it anymore. teardrops dripped everywhere, collecting at the bottom of your chins as you began to sit up. “no… you’ve got it all wrong. i love you hyunjin. i promise”

more tears leave his eyes, small whimpers leaving his lips too. your heart cracked at every noise he made, but you hugged him tight while straddling him, splaying a hand across his cheek to soothe him.

“i’m so sorry hyunjin… this is all my fault, really. don’t blame yourself for anything. i’m sorry you had to deal with all these thoughts alone. i should’ve been there for you.”

“it’s okay… i just need you close now. can we talk tomorrow? please?”

you nod, kissing him again and laying down with him. you held him close to you, wrapping yourself around him to provide comfort. light sobs from him filled the room. you chose not to comment on it… it would only make you more upset.

you’ll make it up to him. you know you will.

“good morning, hyune”

his eyes flutter open, tears instantly run down his face as he looks at you, taking in your features in the light again.

“woah woah woah, what’s wrong?”

“nothing… i missed you”

your heart cracking more and more, this had to have been worse than the pain of rejection.

“i’m sorry. i should have come back earlier… i just wasn’t in the right mind.”

“it’s okay, love… just stay for now.”

you pull him closer to you, burying his face in your chest. “you know… my mom asked about you. i didn’t know how to tell her what i did, but it just all poured out. she told me to come here.”

“oh…”

“coming back into the house felt like a dream. i haven’t been here in so long, but i think what scared me was the paintings.”

“what… like my ‘shrine’?”

you giggle, “no hyune, not your little ‘shrine’, the ones outside. there were paintings in our house, and i had each stroke memorized by heart. our first picnic date, and the coffee date we had… i remember everything. but when i came home… they were all replaced with paintings of just me. i thought you left…”

you could feel your sleep shirt getting wetter and wetter from his tears, but you just pull him closer. “im sorry for hurting such a pure heart like yours, hyune. you didn’t deserve it.”

“i love you.”, he mumbles.

“hm?”

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too.”

he leans up to kiss your cheek. you know you have to make everything up to him, but for now you just wanted to enjoy this moment with him. 

it’s been a couple days since then. you’re getting settled again with him, and it’s not going too terribly. he’s been opening up about his feelings more, and you’ve been listening to the voicemails he sent you while you were away.

you walk back into his art studio, rushing to him when you see his wings out. “hyune? what happened?”

he turns to you, “hm?”

he quickly traces your eyes, realizing that you’re looking at his wings, and he immediately hides them. “take them out again… please? i want to see…”

he sighs, taking them out again. “oh baby… how did this happen?”

“it got stuck in the middle of the door hinge. i tried to get it out but it tore.”

“oh… why didn’t you call me?”

he stays silent. you think back to the day you came home, and the glitter you found on the floor near the pantry.

“shit… it was- you did call me… but i was drunk, wasn’t i?”

“don’t feel bad about it please, it wasn’t your fault. you were just drunk”

you kneel down next to him, grabbing his legs and pulling so he’s staring at you. he drops his paintbrush onto the easel. “what are you doing?”

you quickly pull his shirt off, earning a questioning look from him. “y/n, is this really the time to be-“

you cut him off when you gently touch his wing over the tear, finally reaching up to kiss it. you kiss all over the edge, earning giggles from him. “stop! it tickles”

you look at him, hugging him at his waist again, then leaning over to kiss his chest. “my mom always used to kiss my scars. i’m sorry i can’t kiss the ones ive left on your heart.”

his eyes widen, tears flowing down his cheeks, and you bring your hand up to swipe them away. 

“don’t cry baby… you don’t deserve it. i’m so sorry i hurt you.”

he kicks his chair to the side, kneeling so that he’s level with you. “thank you… but that’s not your job. you know that. you’ve apologized, i forgive you.”

tears leave your eyes again, he sounds so sincere, even though you’ve broken his heart already. “i love you… im so sorry.”

“i love you too. please don’t apologize.”

you pull him into another hug, still sniffling from your tears. “i’ll be better. i promise, hyune.”

“you’re okay… calm down, my love”

“wow… hes so beautiful…”

hyunjin cradles little minjoon in his arms, watching him thrash and blubber. 

“thank you, hyunjin”, harin smiles at him. taehyun is right at his side, watching hyunjin play with minjoon.

your heart swells in your chest, he looks so cute with him, you can’t wait to have one of your own.

not long after, the two of you leave, walking into your home together and discussing your little trip. “thank you for letting me meet them… you didn’t have to.”

“of course i did! they’re my best friends now, it’s kind of required”

he giggles, picking you up and setting you down on the counter. “i really do love you, y/n.”

“i know… i love you too”

he lets his wings out, a purple glow filling the room. “baby?”

he picks you up, bringing you to the bedroom. “let’s have a baby.”

“what?!”

he sighs, “fuck… seeing minjoon…”

“oh my god… because of minjoon?!”

“please?”

you pull him closer, “fine… but you’re doing all the work this time.”

“i’ll do anything for you, darling”

“hyune!”

he rushes to the bathroom, a big smile on his face. “yes?”

“i’m pregnant!”

he picks you up, spinning you around and kissing your face repeatedly.

“really? are you sure?”

“im sure! i took three to check!”

“agghhhh! i love you so much!”

“i love you too, hyune.”

he looks at you again, a lovesick look in his eyes, and he promptly sinks to his knees. he pulls your shirt up, kissing over your tummy and hugging you close. 

“can’t wait to see you all swollen with my baby…”

“god hyune, you’re so whipped”

“i know i am, but only for you, dear”

you pull him back up from the ground, bringing him to the bedroom and laying down with him. “you’re so cheesy.”

“and you love me”

“so much, hyune. you don’t even know.”

“you’re the light of my life.”

you nuzzle back into his shoulder, smiling until you feel a teardrop hit your cheek. you look up at him, slightly confused. 

“you’re so pretty my love…”

“why are you crying?”, you giggle. “i can’t believe you’re really mine…” you hug him tight, kissing his shoulder.

“always yours. only yours.”

<3

[abnormallyo-a-k]

I'm back pushing my terricky agenda onto you all- what do you know about them? what do you knOW about thEM?? anyway i love them with all my heart and here's my design notes on this -

so this is pre-betrayal. don't ask me the timeline, I may have the timeline but I'm not placing this anywhere First and foremost, on the left- it's not coloured and wont be because I'm lazy but Nicky is wearing Terry's purple sweater, and Terry is wearing a Glenn Close Trio shirt that Nicky has had for years at this point On one of Nicky's many necklaces is a guitar pick, one of the first ones Glenn gave him after he remembered both timelines. He turned it into a necklace to always keep on him, even when they fight and argue. Terry is wearing one of those tight-knit fishnet undershirts with an open chest (saw an image on Pinterest of it and went with it) with one of those sheer mesh cropped shirts over top. His big ass goth ass coat is lacking details again bc lazy but it definitely has a lot more pockets and buckles on it. And yes, Goth Terry is Canon to Me and he absolutely would do some really cool ass punk inspired makeup on Nicky or try out different trad goth makeup ideas on him for fun. Nicky, in turn, paints his nails. Typically they were always black, but occasionally they'd be red or purple or what have you if they felt a lil spicy. Terry also only wears upside down cross jewelry so that normal cross necklaces don't bother Nicky, because you know,,, demon

Also Nicky's tail is wrapped around Terry's leg because he's fruity I stand on the fact that Nicky crushed and fell first and Terry did not realize for a Very Long time because he's a fucking Dumbass and I love him for it

thank you for coming to my Ted (Terricky) Talk, I'll see you again another time when I crawl from the void