#dissolving over the way they explain things

[nblatinotails]

I really really really wanna talk about sonic and tails individual retelling of their meeting/not meeting, it's driving me crazy ! Ok ! Quickly to clear up first, clearly these don't happen in the same universe, so clearly a lot of major components are different before we even get to see what's going on. In sonics recollection, the sky is blue, the grass is green, all is good :] cause he's there to stop a lot of the industrialization that Robotnik brings, the world isn't suffering yet. Tails flashback includes paved roads and darkned skies,,, no one to stand in the way of Robotnik, so progress trudges forward, bleak and uncaring. Ok, great, that's outta the way :]

I really wanna focus on the language they both use when describing tails, the bullies, and his life after- I think the contrast is just wild and so so so interesting to compare! Like it changes a lot of the context we view these situations in and tells a lot about the character that's speaking

SO

Sonic tells it this way: Tails was a 'happy, brainy fox' till some 'blockhead bullies' started 'picking on him for having an extra tail'. Sonic ran by and the kids 'lost interest in being jerks'. Tails began following sonic and the prime universe we know is set in motion.

So already this is so reflective of sonics personality and how he perceived what was happening to Tails. Clearly he thinks Tails is a smart little kid, he's brainy, he's smart but he's a little guy. It's a nice term but it folds under the weight of what we usually expect tails to be described as, genius, brilliant. But the happy part is something that the story and tails himself argue against. Even in the prime universe, we know that tails was harassed relentlessly until he met sonic, we see in the flashback that this has already escalated to physical violence,, and they were just getting started. Sonic calls them 'blockheads', 'bullies' that 'pick on him', this language is tame and childish, its kinda downplays what we see, tho I don't think he meant it like that. Thats just how he sees it, it's kids teasing eachother,,, which makes sense for how an outsider would see it, no flack to him.. Or how an adult would soften a story as to not scare a kid, I don't think that's the reason, I think sonic just talks like that, but it's an interesting idea to think about how maybe he didn't wanna scare tails, or if he truly just remembers it as some harsh teasing.

But anyways, to Tails,, he's 4, he's scared and can't defend himself just yet, he can't do anything but take it and hope they leave soon. Also quick wanna point out the emphasis on an extra tail, sonic doesn't care, it's an extra, it's cool.. it's glossed over because its unimportant, just something that's included in the things that are happening, rather than being WHY they're taking place. So sonic runs by and the kids 'lose interest' in bothering tails (they get whooped and tails runs away), and Tails follows sonic, eventually becoming best friends and brothers.

A simple, friendly recap, it seems kinda sanitized,,perky. The way sonic recalls events are very straightforward and chill, I truly believe that he didn't look too far into the background of what he saw, just stopped it and carried on, bonus points for gaining a lil bro.

TAILS HOWEVER..

things are a lil different,, clearly in what happens after sonic didn't show up, but also in the way he talks about himself, his feelings, the actions taken against him.

Tails tells it like this: he was a kid, minding his business, but not his surroundings.. some creeps came along and picked on him for having ONE extra tail. He got a beating, a cycle that continued for years until he put his foot down. He used his 'cunning fox brain' to give him a real way to fight back. Now he needs no one. He takes care of himself.

Aauuggwwwh

The emphasis on his youth, he was 4.

He knows he wasn't to blame, he was minding his own business, he didn't DO anything. But that little bit of self blaming language: I wasn't watching my surroundings. Like he's berating himself, like he could have avoided these kids finding him if he was looking out.

These creeps pick on him, cause that's what they are to him. they aren't 'blockheads', they aren't just bullies, these are older, stronger kids. They ARE creeps, they harassed him for YEARS for no reason. Except for the fact that he has ONE extra tail. Specifically 'one extra' not 'an extra', one. Because that's all it takes. So he shows them. He makes more. But before that, he gets beaten. Not picked on, not bullied, BEATEN. it AAUUGHHH it drives me crazy, look at how he perceives his bullies!!

Like fucking monsters, chasing him in the night. I'm am not alright.

This continues for years. Chased and beaten and harassed, over and over and over again, until tails gives and makes something to protect himself, something to level the playing feild. And THIS is how he views himself while creating his augmentations.

Another allusion to something menacing, something otherworldly. He's pulling himself up to their level, using his 'cunning fox brain'. A jab at sonics wording, yeah, but more importantly, a reference to how tails sees himself. He's NOT brainy, he has to be cunning, he had to be tricky and aware at all times. So now, he can fight back.. he's got these tools, he has his brain, he has protection. Now he doesn't need anyone else. He's grown up alone, take care of himself and his own problems.

[freedomfireflies]

Knockout*

Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.

Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence

Your stranger is here.

He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.

He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.

And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.

A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.

He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.

Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.

You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.

You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is. 

“Hi, Cherry.”

Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring. 

You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.

Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.

“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”

Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”

“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”

“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”

“As much as you want.”

He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.

Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”

“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.

And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”

Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different. 

So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.

“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”

And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy. 

“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.

Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”

“Good. Better now.”

The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles. 

“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you. 

There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”

You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall. 

“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”

Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”

It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him. 

“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”

“Are you?”

He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”

“Why?”

He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”

It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.

But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.

He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”

“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”

He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”

You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one. 

“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”

Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”

“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”

Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”

“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”

“Is that right?”

“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”

The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him. 

He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.

That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.

He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.

And from that night on, you became his Cherry.

He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.

And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:

He always pays with big bills.

He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.

And his name is Harry.

Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.

“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back. 

You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”

“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”

Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”

“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”

You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”

However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”

His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner. 

You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”

You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”

The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.

“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”

Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”

You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.

You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.

Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.

“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”

Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck. 

Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.

“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”

“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”

The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.

“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.

But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”

Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.

You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.

“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”

And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”

Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”

His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.

The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.

Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied. 

And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.

Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request. 

Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.

With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.

However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”

But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.

The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”

And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.

All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.

There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.

You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.

“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”

“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”

Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.

“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”

Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”

Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”

“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”

“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"

Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.

“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”

With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.

 But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.

He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.

 And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.

Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.

You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante. 

Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down. 

“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.

“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”

You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.

And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”

“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”

“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”

He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”

He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly. 

“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”

“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”

And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.

And truth be told…you think he already knows.

His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.

“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”

“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”

“Oh…how?”

His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”

“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”

The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting. 

But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe. 

You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.

“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”

A beat. Then, “…every night.”

The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.

And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.

But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.

It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.

And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in. 

Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.

It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.

“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”

You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.

“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”

A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.

“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”

You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.

And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.

“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”

And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else. 

“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”

He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit. 

“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”

He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.

“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”

You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like. 

Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.

His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside. 

“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”

You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“Promise?”

“Mhm. Promise.”

The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”

He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.

Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him. 

You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.

Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.

Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.

“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”

Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips. 

They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable. 

Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs. 

Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.

But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer. 

“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”

You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.

Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.

He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”

You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”

He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”

Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.

When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”

He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.

And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.

He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly. 

He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”

“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”

His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you. 

You’ve never been so happy in your life.

He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.

His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds. 

You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.

“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”

You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.

The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier. 

“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”

It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.

He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows. 

It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.

He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.

Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.

And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”

“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”

You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.

“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”

He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him. 

You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”

You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles. 

The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.

And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.

You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.

Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.

By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good. 

He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.

Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.  

“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”

The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.

But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated. 

He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.

He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.

He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum. 

You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.

Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.

Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.

He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.   

Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart. 

You’d keep him forever if you could.

You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.

“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”

And you know he will.

“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”

You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.

Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”

You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.

He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”

You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”

“Is that right?”

Another shake. “Get bored.”

“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”

Now you nod, making a noise of agreement. 

He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”

You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.

“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”

And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out. 

“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”

“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer. 

“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”

He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.

The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.

You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”

And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.

Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.

Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.

His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.

“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”

And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”

“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”

And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out. 

You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you. 

Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"

And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.

“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”

And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.

But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”

“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”

“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”

“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”

“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”

You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.

He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”

Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.

But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.

He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?” 

That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”

Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.

He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.

This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle. 

And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort. 

When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”

You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.

“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”

You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.

“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”

He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.

“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”

And you decide you like the sound of that.

Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.

He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”

You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.

You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence. 

You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall. 

You hope one day you get to find out. 

“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”

You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.

“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”

You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.

“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”

He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you. 

His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”

He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.

“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”

The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.

“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”

The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you. 

“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”

And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.

But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye. 

“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”

And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.

“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”

The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.

But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.

He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.

After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.

“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”

Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm. 

And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”

“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”

His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”

“I’m…trying. I think.”

“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”

His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.

You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour. 

It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”

With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”

This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”

“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”

His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.

But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.

His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”

You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”

Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”

And you choose to believe him.

You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.

A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.

You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.

When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.

But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.

But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06. 

Your stranger isn’t here.

I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞

Next Part:

~ Whiplash*

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge

[uzurakis]

what about sfw or nsfw if you wanna take it that way of the jjk boys with clingy reader. they secretly love how much she loves/adores them.

BEING CLINGY WITH THEM?

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru. nanami kento.

n. hi lovely, thank you for requesting! i decided to go with sfw and kept it simple n easy to read. enjoy :D

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you've noticed that he's not accustomed to physical touches. every time you go in for a hug, he tenses up, his body stiffening momentarily before he relaxes into the embrace. but you can feel the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his breath catches for a split second before he surrenders to the warmth of your touch.

you know in your heart that megumi likes it even though he doesn't express it. even though his restrained demeanor often gives the impression that he is far away, the way he leans in closer to you during your embraces says plenty. and you'll know that your affection is felt when you see him glance at you and blush softly after one of your embraces.

you feel the familiar tension in his body as you pull megumi into a gentle hug. "hey, 'gumi," you say softly, "i'm here for you." he stiffens for a moment before relaxing slightly into your embrace. "i know," he replies quietly. you can feel the steady beat of his heart on yours as you hold him close, and you know that one hug at a time, your love is slowly but surely dissolving the barriers he's put up around himself.

ITADORI YUUJI. your boyfriend thrives on physical closeness, and you love how he eagerly wraps his arms around you at every opportunity. whether you're cuddled up on the couch watching movies or simply walking down the street, itadori's hand is always intertwined with yours. his touch is comforting and reassuring, and you find yourself craving it constantly.

what's even better is that itadori adores your clinginess just as much as you love his. he lights up whenever you initiate physical contact, whether it's stealing kisses or wrapping your arms around him from behind. both of you articulate the language of love in your relationship with ease; physical affection is the language. every embrace, every caress, every moment spent curled up in each other's arms deepens your relationship.

as you cuddle up to itadori on the couch, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "i love it when you're this close to me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your crown. you smile up at him, feeling content in his embrace. "i just can't help it. being close to you feels so right," you confess. itadori chuckles softly, his steady breath warm against your body. "well, i'm not complaining. i could stay like this forever."

GETO SUGURU. there's an unspoken understanding that he's open to anything, especially your clinginess. he adores it so much that it's become a cherished part of your dynamic. you love how he welcomes your affection with open arms, never hesitating to pull you close or return your tight embraces. there's a comfort in his touch that you can't quite explain, a sense of belonging that washes over you whenever you're in his arms.

and geto? he revels in your clinginess, finding joy in every moment spent wrapped up with you. he loves the way you fit perfectly against him, as if you were made to be intertwined with each other.

he's busy making supper when you put your arms around him from behind, and he falls back into your embrace with a satisfied smile on his lips. "you know, i could get used to this," he says in a warm, gentle voice. savoring the closeness of the moment, you plant a kiss on the nape of his neck. you whisper, "me too," your heart fluttering with romance.

NANAMI KENTO. his reserved nature is evident in everything he does. he's composed, controlled, and rarely shows his emotions openly. however, there's one thing that always catches him off guard—your touch. each time you give him a hug or plant a peck on his cheek, nanami's stoic facade crumbles just a little. his breath catches, and for a fleeting moment, you see a hint of predisposition in his eyes.

it's in those moments that you feel closest to him, when his defenses are down, and he lets you in just a little bit more. and despite his reserved nature, nanami never fails to reciprocate your affection, albeit in his own subtle way.

you extend your hand to embrace nanami, and he tenses up a little at being touched by you. "i wasn't expecting that," he admits, with a trace of shock in his voice. you squeeze him tenderly and say, "i just wanted to show you how much i care." with a softening face, nanami eases into your embrace and wraps his arms around you in response, "thank you, i appreciate it."

@uzurakis

[handweavers]

something that comes up for me over and over is a deep frustration with academics who write about and study craft but have little hands-on experience with working with that craft, because it leads to them making mistakes in their analysis and even labelling of objects and techniques incorrectly. i see this from something as simple as textiles on display in museums being labelled with techniques that are very obviously wrong (claiming something is knit when it's clearly crochet, woven when that technique could only be done as embroidery applied to cloth off-loom) to articles and books written about the history of various aspects of textiles making considerable errors when trying to describe basic aspects of textile craft-knowledge (ex. a book i read recently that tried to say that dyeing cotton is far easier than dyeing wool because cotton takes colour more easily than wool, and used that as part of an argument as to why cotton became so prominent in the industrial revolution, which is so blatantly incorrect to any dyer that it seriously harms the argument being made even if the overall point is ultimately correct)

the thing is that craft is a language, an embodied knowledge that crosses the boundaries of spoken communication into a physical understanding. craft has theory, but it is not theoretical: there is a necessary physicality to our work, to our knowledge, that cannot be substituted. two artisans who share a craft share a language, even if that language is not verbal. when you understand how a material functions and behaves without deliberate thought, when the material knowledge becomes instinct, when your hands know these things just as well if not better than your conscious mind does, new avenues of communication are opened. an embodied knowledge of a craft is its own language that is able to be communicated across time, and one easily misunderstood by those without that fluency. an academic whose knowledge is entirely theoretical may look at a piece of metalwork from the 3rd century and struggle to understand the function or intent of it, but if you were to show the same piece to a living blacksmith they would likely be able to tell you with startling accuracy what their ancient colleague was trying to do.

a more elaborate example: when i was in residence at a dye studio on bali, the dyer who mentored me showed me a bowl of shimmering grey mud, and explained in bahasa that they harvest the mud several feet under the roots of certain species of mangroves. once the mud is cleaned and strained, it's mixed with bran water and left to ferment for weeks to months.  he noted that the mud cannot be used until the fermentation process has left a glittering sheen to its surface. when layered over a fermented dye containing the flowers from a tree, the cloth turns grey, and repeated dippings in the flower-liquid and mud vats deepen this colour until it's a warm black. 

he didn't explain why this works, and he did not have to. his methods are different from mine, but the same chemical processes are occurring. tannins always turn grey when they interact with iron and they don't react to other additives the same way, so tannins (polyphenols) and iron must be fundamental parts of this process. many types of earthen clay contain a type of bacteria that creates biogenic iron as a byproduct, and mixing bran water with this mud would give the bacteria sugars to feast upon, multiplying, and producing more of this biogenic iron. when the iron content is high enough that the mud shimmers, applying this fermented mixture to cloth soaked in tannins would cause the iron to react with the tannin and finally, miraculously: a deep, living grey-black cloth.

in my dye studio i have dissolved iron sulphide ii in boiling water and submerged cloth soaked in tannin extract in this iron water, and watched it emerge, chemically altered, now deep and living grey-black just like the cloth my mentor on bali dyed. when i watched him dip cloth in this brown bath of fermented flower-water, and then into the shimmering mud and witness the cloth emerge this same shade of grey, i understand exactly what he was doing and why. embodied craft knowledge is its own language, and if you're going to dedicate your life to writing about a craft it would be of great benefit to actually "speak" that language, or you're likely to make serious errors.

the arrogance is not that different from a historian or anthropologist who tries to study a culture or people without understanding their written or spoken tongue, and then makes mistakes in their analysis because they are fundamentally disconnected from the way the people they are talking about communicate. the voyeuristic academic desire to observe and analyse the world at a distance, without participating in it. how often academics will write about social movements, political theory and philosophy and never actually get involved in any of these movements while they're happening. my issue with the way they interact with craft is less serious than the others i mentioned, but one that constantly bothers me when coming into contact with the divide between "those who make a living writing about a subject" and "those who make a living doing that subject"

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

[beneathashadytree]

FELINE AFFECTION - XAVIER SHEN X READER

Warnings : Xavier absolutely gives off “I’m terrified of my spouse” vibes here because he has 0 financial responsibility, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : tooth-rotting domestic fluff <3

Word count : 1.0K words

Additional notes : My head is simply full of thoughts of that new pose of Xavier in the Glint photobooth, where he’s cuddling a cat… and the brainrot birthed this. I’m so in love with him.

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“Xavier.”

For a few beats there was no reply, and then a very hesitant, “Yes?” came from the couch they were staring at so intently—and for good reason, really. His innocent expression did not erase the truth of what they were seeing.

“What’s that in your arms?” they very patiently asked, as though the calmer they said it, the more inclined he would be to answer honestly. A futile attempt at coaxing, when Xavier knew better than to ignore the signs of an oncoming scolding.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, sky blue eyes darting away before they could meet theirs. A very telling sign, if anything; Xavier was weak to them and would always give in with a single piercing glance shooting straight for his heart.

They arched their brow as they set their keys down on the coffee table, before crossing their arms against their chest. “So you’re saying I’m seeing things?”

A trick question. He swallowed thickly, carefully contemplating his answer and then quietly saying, “I didn’t say that.”

“A contradictory claim.” Their expression was cool, but the challenge in their eyes was anything but. “Answer this then, are you holding a kitten right now?”

He stayed silent for a few moments. “Well… no.” Not very convincing—especially not when there really was a pudgy tabby cat swaddled into his soft sweater and lazily swatting at the hem’s loose threads, and his own fingers were busy gently trailing across its head.

A strangled noise left them at the sight and his continued denial. Pinching their nose in exasperation, they shut their eyes for a second. “Care to explain, then?”

“Technically, she’s a little over two years old, so she’s a cat, not a kitten,” he mumbled, half to himself, hoping that they would just drop it. It seemed he wasn’t in the mood to be very upfront today. But he certainly looked like he was in the mood to tickle the pink paws of his new feline friend and boop her twitching little nose.

“Err… lovely,” they strained to keep their voice level and absolutely calm, definitely not freaking out over this… fascinating surprise. “And what’s she doing in our apartment?”

“It’s hers now too.” A bold statement to make, from a man who looked like—were he a cat too, that is—his own whiskers were standing on end. “If anything happens to her I’ll jump.”

“Knowing your luck, you’d survive the fall anyways.” A tired sigh, and then their shoulders were drooping, their fight dissolving all at once. They collapsed onto the couch beside him, and thankfully the cat seemed to be twice as lazy as her new owner was, because she made no indication of having gotten startled, save for a slow blink of her eyes (that was admittedly rather adorable). “Fine, have it your way.”

That sweet smile of his graced his soft features, and for a moment their heart thundered in their chest, reminding them that no matter how much they would try to deny it, they really were weak to anything he wanted—as long as he gave them that smile, of course. “She’s very content like this,” they pointed out as the cat in question yawned, leaning into his finger deftly stroking her forehead.

“I know we’re often on missions, and I didn’t want to risk negligence. So I searched for the lowest maintenance kitty to adopt,” he softly said, voice trailing off at the end and an endearingly tender look in his eyes as he continued to pet her. Glancing up at his beloved, he flushed a little at the amusement on their face. “Sorry. She’s just very fluffy.”

At that they chuckled a little, reveling in the way he let himself get carried away. “It’s fine. I was honestly just worried about precisely that. Pets are a huge responsibility, but she’d be perfectly compatible with us.” They looked down and watched as she stretched her fluffy limbs, before curling back up into Xavier’s chest, a content look on her adorable face and her tail swishing a little in her light sleep. The resemblance finally became clear. “She’s… an awful lot like you.”

“Really?” he mused, a thoughtful expression on his face as he furrowed his eyebrows a little. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Kind of hard to ignore once you see it,” they snorted a little, though they lowered their voice after they saw how the slumbering cat twitched in her sleep at the sound. “You got all the stuff she needs, though?”

“I may or may not have used up this month’s salary at the pet store.” Xavier sheepishly gave them a half-smile, though he didn’t look apologetic in the least at the prospect of having wasted a ludicrous amount of money on things that the soon-to-be-spoilt kitty may never even use.

Seriously, had he always wanted a cat this bad?

Well. There was no use in admonishing him when he seemed so enamored by the ball of fluff in his arms. In fact… maybe a small part of them fell a bit more in love with him seeing him so content with the (admittedly rash) decision he’d made, and perfectly happy with staying cuddled up forever on the couch.

“Did you name her?” they asked, curiosity lacing their words as they peered at her tiny face nuzzled against his chest. “It’s only fair you get the chance to when you brought her in.”

Really, it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, now that they thought about it. Cats are rather independent, and they knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d definitely shower her with unconditional love and all the care that she needs. Kind of hard not to, when she was this sweet-looking and lazy all the time.

Xavier nodded, a small flush on his freckled cheeks. A look akin to pride on his face, he smiled up at his lover, slowly cradling the happily dozing cat, and said—

“Her name’s Meatloaf.”

…

“Absolutely not.”

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[ruruvxz]

Can you write like a really really loser minji with like uhh a teasing playful and mean flirting fem! reader basically like a baddie reader 😭😭😭 idk how to explain it man so the thing is I saw this dynamic thing like minji is the taller one but gets teased Reader is the shorter but teases minji!! Just some fluff no angst please 😔

“Apple Cider”

Nerd!Kim Minji x Mean!Reader

↳ synopsis: After being kicked out of a house party you found yourself wondering the streets with a pounding headache. It wasn’t all that bad when you suddenly came across a taller woman, and not letting this opportunity through your hands, you ask to get her a drink.

↳ cw: mentions on intoxication, drunken kiss, prudish reader, mentions of language, reader is an ex-f1 racer, pure fluff

↳ wc: 3k

a/n: I kinda wrote this as a prologue of “10:36” but don’t worry it’s all pure fluff and this is basically how you met Minji… anywayssss it was really difficult to write this as I kept having to redo it since I didn’t like all my other proofreads (and the fact I’m a tall girl myself…)

Stumbling over a traffic cone, your head thumped and pounded as you were suffering a major migraine, which added to your irritation as you were leaving the worst party of your life. Everything was beginning normally, you came early as usual to lend a helping hand to one of your mutual friends, watching the people pool into the cramped apartment. How everyone's shoulders collided as you all tried to fit into this tiny apartment made you more irritable. 

It wasn't until someone poured a drink onto your already drunk state and began to berate you, that you finally took your leave. You bit your tongue, you didn't want to start anything so you swung your f1 academy jacket over your drenched shirt to cover the bright stain plastered all over and took your leave. Everything was so disorienting, walking through the crowded streets, you found yourself stumbling across the business district. You loathed this part because it reminded you of your impending doom of being a corpse slave, but at this point, you were too drunk to care.

All that lugging around trying to find a place to camp out wasn't making anything any better, your only saving grace was hauling your way to the nearest 7-Eleven. Thank the stars that you managed to wobble your way inside and pick up 2 bottles of apple cider, a drink you commonly drank to force your way back to sobriety. As you checked out your items you made yourself comfortable on a concrete diver and chugged the first drink down.

It was extremely sour, so you pushed yourself only to take small sips, whilst admiring the stars above you. A little ashamed that you got kicked out of a party so early on, usually leaving by 3 am, but it was only 9 pm. That was beside the point, as you felt your head stop thumping less and less, and finally, your headache dissolved completely. Sighing in relief, you looked at the spare bottle wondering how much of a waste of money it was to buy 2. Before you could return the bottle for some reward points or something along those lines, your ears picked up a large "Oomf".

Your eyes darted towards the noise as you saw a beautifully dressed woman, trip over a traffic cone, similarly to you. She was stunning, her long black hair falling softly onto her face, and with her tall stature, everything about her was so breathtaking. You even took notice of the dark eye-bags circulating under her gorgeous black eyes, she looked so fatigued it even made your partially sober state worry for her. You thought nothing more of her before she tripped once more dropping her glasses right in front of you.

Picking them up worriedly, you walked over to her and reached your hand up to pick her up. She looked up at you wide-eyed as you dragged her bag up, she immediately started apologizing as you handed her the glasses. Not realizing how tall her stature was until you stood right in front of her. As you examined her face closer as she pushed the glasses up from the bridge of her nose, she couldn't help but blush. You chuckle at her reaction a bit before speaking up.

"Are you alright? I just saw you trip on air right now..." You joked as the woman looked even more sorrowful, the idea of someone as dazzling as you watching her make a fool out of herself was humiliating. She grabbed her hand and rubbed her nape as you continued to laugh at her little accident, finally letting it all out she spoke up.

"I'm sorry. it's just I was so tired I couldn't see where I was going." She responded continuing to run the back of her neck while looking down at your smiling face. She wasn't lying though, after a long 3-hour seminar about economic ethics, she was beyond exhausted, especially since this was being taken out of her weekend.

"Maybe it's true, tall people don't have balance." You laughed at her, a part of you still a little drunken as you giggled at her antics before speaking up once more. "I've got some spare apple... drink, I uh, drink it if I want to energize myself— here take it, it's not like I was gonna drink it anyways." You insisted as you handed her the drink forcefully, her response being to weakly snatch it from your hands.

The drink was still cold and she had no problem drinking it, especially since a strikingly young woman, probably the same as her, was offering it to her. Usually, if it was anyone else the black-haired woman would've meekly declined their offer and moved on with her day, but you were different somehow.

As she cracked the cap off, she took a huge swig before coughing out from the sour taste, her eyes bugging out differently that tasted from her expectation. She looked at the bottle's wrapping as it neatly read "Natural Apple Cider", it wasn't bad but it was most definitely surprising. However, the way she spat out everything made you laugh hysterically even more.

"Hahaha, I'm so— hah... I'm so sorry, it's Apple cider." You laughed as she stared at the bottle for a little bit longer and then pried her eyes back to you as you chuckled loudly. "You looked so hilarious! I can't—" You continue laughing at her before gaining your composure once more, "I'm Y/N, sorry about that."

"Wow, uhm..." She was bewildered at your carefree attitude after practically just meeting her, but she laughed with you, your laugh was far too intoxicating. "I'm Kim Minji." She responded as she pushed a hair behind her ear before reaching out her hand to shake yours. You quickly do so as you ogle her height.

"I'll just call you... Tall girl!" Minji was dumbfounded by the nickname, which wasn't much of a nickname as it was just a plain-out observation. She looked around then back at you confused why you sounded so sure about that name.

"Now come on tall girl, let me get you an actual drink as an apology." You beamed as you offered her an actual drink, it wasn't even an offer actually, more of a subtle demand under the pretext of this being a sweet gesture. Minji, who was so hooked, just agreed while you dragged her by the hand and led her to one of your all-time favorite jazz bars. She couldn't help but chuckle at the circumstances she was facing at this moment, a shorter woman she had no prior knowledge about was offering to get her a drink.

As the both of you pushed through the crowded streets of drunkards and other ripped folks, you would mumble incoherent words that she would only understand bits and pieces. Minji would question why you kept mentioning some party and you'd scowl at her wondering why she wasn't listening, how could she? You were practically slurring your words every single sentence? But oddly enough, she found it so endearing whenever you would laugh it off. She was also still surprised how you could be so clearheaded and strut around in such a stunning outfit while not being the most sober person. Everything about you from your face to your minute details made her heart beat out of her chest.

You didn't notice how her hand tightened just a little bit, while she thought of the idea of you leaving her. Even for this midnight, she'd like to give this thing a try. As you headed inside the jazz club, you indicated sitting near the bar top. Minji, who wasn't a big drinker, (actually didn't drink at all before this situation) was a bit hesitant at first but she swallowed her fears and sat down right beside you. You ordered 2 amber ale beers and the bartender delivered, the drinks decorated with a frothy top as you took a large swig. Minji was stunned at the fact you could just coldly drink the bitter drink without any hesitation, making her believe it wasn't all that bad.

She lifted the drink to her lips, the froth coating attaching itself to her philtrum, as she took a short sip before abruptly sitting it out with a cough. It took you by surprise as she continued to cough out her drink, you patted her back to relieve her, thinking she might just be choking. As you leaned into her to make sure the taller woman was okay, your nose picked up her delicious scent of fruit punch. "Oh my! Are you okay?—Woah you smell nice, but are you good?" You repeated yourself as Minji came down from her coughing spree. As she lifted her head back up to look at you, her cheeks flushed red, not wanting to admit that this was probably the first drink she'd ever had in her life. She flailed her hand around trying to indicate she was fine as she continued to let out hiccuped coughs. 

It took you a few moments as you dissected her reaction before connecting the dots, ah, this was the first time she'd ever tried beer, a trashy one at that. "Oh. Is this your first time trying amber ale?" You questioned, she looked even more flushed as she hid her face with her palms, pretty much summing up your theory, you didn't expect that, after all, she looked like she was your age. Even entering the bar she showed the bouncer her ID and everything was checked out, so how could this possibly be her first-ever drink? As questions pilled up in your mind you couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, catching the attention of a few fellow jazz enthusiasts who were just trying to enjoy the music. Paying no mind to the glares of middle-aged men who had nothing to do but "appreciate" the gentle hums of the musicians, you spoke up a little too loud making Minji a tad bit more embarrassed.

"Your kidding! There's no way this..." You laughed, raising the drink higher up to give her a look before slamming it down on the counter. "...This shit! Is your first drink, tall girl." She sighed as you continued to tease her on the fact, before letting out a very long exasperated sigh whilst taking another sip of the drink. Minji wasn't in the mood to deal with you— a complete stranger— remarks on her visible lack of alcoholism. Truth be told, she hated people who drank since it would always lead to confrontation or messy tears, and she wanted no part of that. The fact that anyone would order an alcoholic beverage on her behalf would've made her scoff in disapproval before sending the drink back, but for some particular reason, she wanted to impress the alluring girl right next to her.

"D-Don't call me that, besides, it isn't," Minji said, trying her best to convince the girl next to her that she was much more bold than she was, despite coughing up her drink. "I was just, uhm, surprised that's all!" Was all she could muster up as you continued to laugh your ass off, you should've probably asked her if she drank or not before dragging her to your favorite Jazz Club, but you were paying for her drink, so really, was it your fault.

As the night went on, you both mutually started to order more and more drinks, as the clock struck 2am, you finally decided to wrap up this get-together and head home. It was kind of refreshing meeting someone new though, in the span of 5 hours, you learned more about her than you knew about your closest friends. Of course, not by your own will as it was her turn to babble her head off, she talked way too much about trivial topics she was into you found your migraine resurge for a bit. Things like her favorite romance novels or manhwa titles and synopses that you could care less about were all engraved into your memory, after all for some reason you couldn't take your eyes off of her. But eventually, everything has to come to an end...

That is what you would've said if she wasn't practically clung onto your arm with her head resting on your head as she loomed over your quite tiny build. If you knew she was a lightweight you probably wouldn't have encouraged her to have more drinks than she could handle, especially since you had to pay for each and every one she got. More than that, you wouldn't have agreed under the pretense that you had to drag this not-so-complete stranger back to her apartment. She was quite heavy as she was pressing all her body weight onto you as you searched and probed for directions to her apartment, her words slurred and giggly as you finally found her residence.

It was quite elegant as she lived in the well-off areas of the city, it made you jealous at the thought of anyone ever living so extravagantly, but it was better than having to drag her up the stairs if she lived in an apartment complex like yours. You fished the wallet out of Minji's back pocket to grab her complex's card key and unlocked the elevator for the both of you. As you hauled her into her apartment, you took in the view, everything was so dimly lit and the only light was being emitted by the city's scrappers and other colossal-sized buildings.

You chucked her onto her leather couch as she spewed more nonsense about her economic homework before finally taking a breather on the couch. She was adorable but you're too prideful to admit that to her face, you decided to just grab some water and sober her up a bit before heading back to your place with your roommate. Walking over to her, you handed her the glass of water before carefully monitoring her like a child, making sure she didn't choke. As she sat up, she swallowed the water in one goofy gulp.

"Hey now, don't drink it like that you might choke like last time, tall girl." You chuckle as she looks up at your standing posture with a pout, fixing the hem of your shirt you prepare yourself for your leave. Turning back from her gaze she weakly and fairly loosely grabbed onto your wrist with a hushed plea. "Please stay, Y/N..." Her voice filled with longing as she croaked out, making your heart soften at her state. You let out a playful scoff before taking a seat on the couch right next to her, Minji's eyes lighting up as you do so. She looked like a total lovesick geek right now, but you found her so endearing as you both sat in silence, taking short glances at one another.

"Your hair, it's really nice Y/N, can I uhm, please touch it." She spoke as you nodded softly, letting her delicate fingers stroke the back of your head, feeling your hair strand by strand under her palm. As she continued she looked more and more entranced by how truly gorgeous you were, her breath hitched once she stopped, leaning down to rest your head on her thighs. If it weren't for how dark her apartment was, you probably could've seen her cheeks radiating red, as her blush plastered her whole face. The way you looked so, unbothered, made her heart sink even further, she had never felt this way about anyone, mainly since she's usually cooped up in her apartment, avoiding any contact with anyone other than her close friends. 

Resting your head gently on top of her, Minji's eyes wandered around your whole body, taking in the sight that was in front of her. Her eyes landed on your scarlet leather race jacket, it was tailored perfectly for you, she let out a nerdy smile as she looked at all the patches that decorated your jacket. "That jacket... it's really cool, I like it." 

"Than I shall wear it more often." You responded, reaching your hand out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, your knuckles softly caressing her heated cheeks. Despite how much you hated being reminded of your past as a failed driver who was promptly kicked off the grid, her words soothed you enough to encourage you to wear it more often. Looking back at the party that happened, you were glad it didn't work out since it meant that you met her. 

You both sat in silence after your little comment as she only let out a snort, her face still burning red as you laid on her. "Hey, do you mind if I sleep over?" You asked, and she nodded responding with a quiet, "Sleep as long as you want." 

"Great, I don't have anywhere to stay." You lied through your teeth, not wanting to go back home and stay by her side. 

"Hey Y/N, do you like me?" Minji asked boldly, still clearly stuck in her drunken state.

"Yeah, but not that much, Tall girl." You teased as you brought your hand back up and pulled her down to your level, your noses inches apart, threatening to touch. "How about you?"

"I like you a lot..." She drifted off, her answer in part to the fact she was quite dazed, before continuing she leaned closer to you. "But not that much."

You laughed once more as you cupped her face, gently pushing her face closer, interlocking your lips together as you kissed, her face was hot, steaming almost as you released her hands from her face. "You look so out of it, come on', I'll go buy you some apple cider to sober you up."

"I prefer fruit punch, actually!"  

"Then let's drink both."

[ssentimentals]

Hiii! Would like to request for mingyu + 45 pleaseee. Thank you!

hi, love!💜 thanks for the request, hopefully you will like it!

45. kiss out of anger (kim mingyu)

'you're being insufferable.'

'me? who's the one with all the dramatics here?' mingyu throws both of his hands in the air, twirling around like some kind of ballerina to make his point.

you sceptically raise your eyebrow. 'yep. i'm the one with dramatics here.'

mingyu huffs and rolls his eyes, but settles against the couch comfortable, staring you down. honestly, you two've been going over this whole thing for the past two hours and you are very close to simply storming out of this room. the only reason of you staying put is because you know that mingyu won't let you go very far - he'll catch you and bring you back and will make you stay here until we both come to some kind of a conclusion. right now it looks impossible but mingyu is an optimist, so he tries again: 'listen, i'm asking for one thing. can't you just give in once?'

'mingyu, don't make it sound like i'm the tyran who never gives in to you. i said no, can't you just let it be? i'm tired of explaining the same thing over and over again.'

'well then explain once again, because i didn't get anything.' he crosses his arms over the chest and glares, making a whole show of 'i am staying here and not moving'. 'and while you're at it, maybe think that if i'm not getting it because you're not making any sense.'

deep breath. you take a deep breath and close your eyes, because staring at mingyu right now makes your desire to punch him in the face skyrocket. mingyu is such a 'let's solve it right now' guy, while you are 'i need time to think' girl and it's a miracle how you both stay together for such a long time despite this difference. and maybe this is what you need to focus on right now? that you both stayed together despite it and how this is not your first ever fight. there were many fights but you still stayed together and logically you know that this fight will dissolve too, but it's hard to stay calm at this exact moment. 'kim mingyu,' you call out in a tired voice, 'i think it's time we both take a break in this fight. you go to the kitchen, i'll stay here and how about we meet in an hour and come back to this topic again?'

mingyu pouts. 'thirty minutes.'

'one hour, mingyu.' you push strictly, glaring at him. 'is that too much to ask?'

'one hour is way too long,' he comments and god, he's still pouting. why your boyfriend is an overgrown child? why you are so hopelessly in love with him? 'okay, forty minutes. but we both stay here, i'm not going to the kitchen. what if you start crying? i need to be here.'

how mingyu manages to be both heart-wrenchingly endearing and annoying as fuck is beyond you. 'you're either going to the kitchen or i'm leaving this apartment, mingyu.'

'fine!' he stands up from the couch, obviously angry. 'fine! have it your way! i'm going to the kitchen!'

he stomps for dramatic effect and your can't help but smile a little at that. god, what a child. you love him so much. before moving to turn away, mingyu suddenly rushes towards you and kisses you soundly on the mouth, not letting you even take a breath.

'wha-'

'i love you,' he says angrily, frowning. 'you're pissing me off right now, but i love you. don't forget it. got it?' you nod dazedly. 'good. now i'm off to the kitchen. call me if you start crying.'

you weakly push on his shoulders, suddenly feeling like you're about to cry. 'i'm not gonna cry.'

'mhm.' mingyu rolls his eyes and walks away. 'tissues are on your left.'

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 263

Once More, we return to Tiamat prompts. 

It was a wonderful idea, really! If one of them couldn’t break the barrier, then surely their combined might would do it! And it had! It had worked, even if their remaining humanity was sacrificed. They’d done it, they’d made it where everyone could escape, could leave!

… Except for them. Someone had to close the portal. And it all would have been fine, if not for the remnants of the GIW. One last hail mary from the imbeciles, they all supposed. Trapping them here within the Zone. 

Separated from their families, from the pair of children they had agreed to raise. At least their siblings would watch over Ellie and Jordan. Kyle could hide them, make sure they were safe. Jazz… Jazz was gone, the final straw in this plan. 

They screamed, they raged, they destroyed in grief for those that didn’t make it, and for those who had but had nowhere to go. No portals opened, even as they tore at the green around them. They fought, any that thought they were weak, that they were merely a beast, an abomination trapped in chains of science and gold. 

There was nothing that could be done, Frostbite had said, sympathy in his voice. No way to turn back the clock with how entwined they had become, Clockwork had explained. The only thing they could do was wait, Pandora had tried to sooth, despite it doing nothing. 

They wrenched open the coffin in a hazy fury, tearing apart armies like it was blades of grass. Their maws devoured dead who had lost themselves and become mere husks and thralls, lashing tails ripping through armour like it was nothing. 

And then as titans, they clashed with the one who had once stolen the city here. There was no desperation from them this time, no armor besides scales unbreakable as flames and storms and ice and thorns ripped islands apart. There was no desperation besides that of their opponent’s. 

There was a pleasure in their victory, before it was wrenched away. What use was a crown when their family wasn’t there? When their daughter, their son, their children were not there by their side? 

Paulina laughed, hysterical as ectoplasm dripped from her maw as Kwan howled. Their body was covered in it, their rampage that had no use, no reason leaving a trail of destruction behind them. Is this what they wanted? 

No. 

Danny raised his head from the dissolving corpses to look towards the obliterated roof of the Keep, once so terrifying now turning to dust like the crown. The crown reforming above their heads, heavy and almost choking. 

They would carry this weight together. Would restructure things, would do what they had wanted to do for Amity before the Barriers. They’d work together to rebuild the Realms, make it safer, make it safe for those newly dead. 

No matter how long it took, no matter how hard it would be to fix the destruction they had wrought in this meaningless battle. (“Danny, you’re the spokesperson,” Sam spoke up, thorn-like scales ruffling. “You’re most familiar with the realms thanks to the Infinimap.” Fair. “We’ll need allies, we’re only nine people.”)

(“Let me talk to the egyptian afterlife,” Tucker sounded exhausted, hood folding back. “I’m most familiar with them… Star, Paulina, you’re both Princess Dora’s favorites-”)

(“We can do it. Just give us time.” “Maybe a to-do list.” “Clockwork. We need to talk to Clockwork, he’d be most familiar with this.” “Rest first, nerds. We’re all… exhausted.”)

(Valerie laughed tiredly, blades melting to heal a broken horn. “Time isn’t linear here Dash. You know that. I know that. For once we’re the ones with time to spare.” It would take years to get things up to snuff. Make things Safe for when they could bring their families here.)

Their eyes opened as the now flimsy chains shattered, a smile stretching across the shared face of their humanoid form. Soon. They could return to the mortal realm soon. Just a little more, and they could see their little ones.  They'd waited a thousand years, they could wait a few days more.

(also have sketch)

@fairy-lights-and-blobs @radiance1 You both seem to enjoy my Tiamat prompts/Aus lol

[ratsummer]

Shhhhh shhhhhh I'm getting carried away here, but...

Y'all ever think about Phantom being unphased by griminess when he's first summoned?

Or maybe not unphased, but he just doesn't make cleanliness a priority. Like this guy has been roaming the circles as best he can on his own, more concerned with finding food and shelter and the reluctant ally here and there than with personal hygiene.

Summoning as a general rule isn't a very tidy affair, so no one really notices that first day. Omega and Aether give him the typical, cursory wipedown to remove the worst of the summoning... goo... before bundling him up in soft, loose, flowy robes while his skin is still sensitive. And of course, when they show him where his room his, they introduce him to the baths and let him know he has the rest of the day to clean up and settle in.

Well, morning rolls around and Dew arrives to the breakfast table, ushering a very sleepy little quint along in front of him. Cirrus scolds him for so obviously waking him up before he was ready, but Phantom insists it's okay, please, I asked him to make sure I was awake for breakfast! Don't get angry at him!

And while Phantom explains that Dew stayed up late with him to help him find and organize snacks in his room, Cumulus comes to the table, yawning wide and clutching Aether's arm. She was so excited to greet Phantom and Aurora at their summonings, hugging them tight (despite the goo) and welcoming them into the fold. She's just as excited to see them at breakfast, purring and pressing a kiss into Aurora's hair first before shuffling over to do the same for Phantom.

He can't help but flinch a little as she approaches. Old habits die hard, and he immediately rushes to apologize when she stops in her tracks and frowns. But Cumulus is used to skittish ghouls - she typically accepts boundaries gracefully. No, what's caught her off guard is-

"Phantom, sweetheart, didn't Aether show you how the bath works?" Cumulus' voice is soft and warm, but she's got Aether pinned with a disappointed glare.

Phantom curls in on himself a little, squirming and wrapping his tail around his fingers. "He did... why?"

"Little bat, you've still got... goo... clumped in your hair. That can't feel very good."

And while Phantom is squirming and explaining himself, that he was focusing on getting used to his room, Cumulus starts looking him over more carefully.

She notices his claws, broken and jagged in some spots, dirt and goo clumped around them. Little scrapes, scratches, and bruises littering what little bit of his bare skin is exposed. Hair dry and frizzed up, with tangles and knots all around the base of his horns. And his horns... dried out, brittle, chunks missing near the ends.

Well, Cirrus doesn't call her Fussy Lussy for nothing.

"Oh darling, it's okay you didn't have time last night. I'll tell you what, I was going to have a little spa day today, I've got so many new things I want to try out. How about you come along with me and I'll help you figure out all the knobs in the tub and you can try out some of my soaps!"

Phantom looks a little wary and unsure as Cumulus extends her offer, maybe trying to figure out how to say no, until Aurora gasps and starts kicking her feet excitedly.

"Oh! Phantom! Cumulus helped me wash my hair last night and her soaps smell soooooo good! You're gonna love it!"

So, that's how Phantom ends up reclined neck-deep in deliciously warm bathwater not an hour later.

Cumulus is humming quietly, sitting next to him and lighting all the candles she lined up along the edge of the tub. "These candles are always here," she explains, "And the matches live in that jar tucked over there, so you can use these anytime you want if you like them, alright?"

Phantom just hums a little to let her know he's at least kind of listening. He rubs his toes through a little pile of what Cumulus called epsom salts, enjoying the way the grains crunch and swirl around his feet as they slowly dissolve. He can't remember being so comfortably warm and relaxed, maybe ever.

"Alright, sugar, I've got so many good things to try out. Are you ready?"

Phantom loses track of time quickly, but it must be hours that they soak together. Cumulus grooms him meticulously, and it stirs up achingly precious, half-lit memories from his kit days, when he still had his parents to look after him.

She scrubs his hair thoroughly with a sweet, sudsy shampoo. Her claws scratch deliciously over his scalp, sending goosebumps down his back. She works something called conditioner in next, using her fingers and a comb to tug and tease all the knots out of his hair. Not once does she pull hard enough to hurt.

She rubs a creamy, buttery substance between her palms until it melts into a sweet-scented oil. She massages it over his horns, cooing about how it's adding so much depth to their night-blue color. His claws are next, and Cumulus patiently explains what each of her little tools is for as she goes about trimming, filing, and oiling each one. She even rubs a cream into what she tells him are his cuticles, apparently to soften them or something.

She uses the softest cloth he's ever felt in his whole life ever to wash him thoroughly with a mouth-wateringly scented soap. She's thorough, getting behind his ears and between his toes. While she washes him, she tells him they should talk to Rain later about trimming up his hair so it doesn't fall in his eyes so much. She checks in with him constantly, asking if he's still okay with her washing him or if he'd like to take over.

Once they're out and dry, she helps him put on a creamy lotion before handing him big, soft clothes to pull on. She helps him roll the sleeves and cuff the pants, having stolen them from Swiss.

"He won't miss them, sweetie. That ghoul has the comfiest loungewear and he's always happy to share."

Cumulus insists that the most important part of their spa day is to immediately crawl into her nest to snack, snooze, and watch movies. It's called beauty rest for a reason, Phantom!

It's with a full belly and a clean, relaxed body that Phantom snuggles down under Cumulus' fresh, soft blankets and promptly passes out. It's the deepest, most restorative sleep he's had in ages.

And while he sleeps, Cumulus pets his hair, rubs his back, and generally fusses over whether the blankets are covering him properly. Her entire heart has totally melted for this sweet ghoul who's seen too much hardship, and she vows to make him the most rotten, spoiled little brat the ministry has ever seen.

[taystrash]

Dominate Men HCS

Description: Of course I had to write one for the doms too

Word Count: 1.144k

Content warning: nicknames used: pretty girl, baby, spanking, rough sex, aftercare

Nanami, Razor (HxH), Toji, Miguel O'Hara, Phinks, Reiner, Hisoka, Tengen, Captain Yami

Dominate men who love to spank your perfect little ass raw. Until you're squirming in his lap, hands coming back to helplessly shield you away from his large, calloused hand. He has no problem taking both your wrists into one hand and pinning them to your lower back, warning you to stay out of his way. He can't help the way his cock jumps when he notices your tears staining the fabric of his jeans. "That was the last one pretty girl." His hand pulls you by your hair until he's able to place his lips next to your ear, he wants to make sure you hear his next words. "Got me fucking leaking at the sight of how wet your pathetic little cunt is. Why are you dripping down your fucking thigh," His hand moves gently over the skin of your ass, cooing gently when you jump at the contact. "When this is supposed to be a punishment?"

Dominate men who will bend into any position to watch your face when you cum. It's not enough to feel you cum around his cock, it's not even enough to see the way your body shakes during the process. He needs to watch the way your mouth parts as you dissolve into a bubbling mess of tears and snot when you finally cum. He craves to see the way your lashes clump together, the way your eyes roll back until only the whites are exposed behind fluttering lids. He finds it ruins his orgasm if he can't watch the way your brows pinch together or the way you'll tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as he fucks you through it. "Come on pretty girl, let me see you." It's a near-feral growl every time, hips slowing their pace until he's grinding his hips against your ass. His hand at the back of your neck travels to your chin to pull you up and the sight nearly has him cumming on sight. "There she is-fuck-baby, I'm gonna cum-you're so fucking pretty like this. You look so fucking pretty making a mess on my cock baby. So. Fucking. Pretty." Each word is emphasized with a thrust, cock twitching as he holds you in place, eyes glued to your face. "So fucking pretty."

Dominate men who need you to understand they're truly sorry, for the most part. Especially when they have you folded in half, using their weight to dig into your pussy. Their feet are planted into the mattress, hands gripping the headboard, and each thrust is sharper than the last. He hasn't spoken since he instructed you to hold your legs, you weren't sure of what his day entailed but he had been upset from the moment he entered your shared apartment. He had slung his suitcase around, walked heavily through the house, and barely greeted you with a dry kiss. You wanted to scold him, ask him what was wrong, and take away his stress all at the same time. You wanted to be mad at him but you were sure his job was stressful, though he swore to never take it out on you. You had mentioned that part, sure it wouldn't spark an argument. You were wrong, he exploded, explaining the stressfulness of his assignments, and deadlines, how he had to keep everything upright. He was tired, exhausted didn't even begin to cover it, and the last thing he needed was you hounding him. You hadn't, you weren't, he was just saying every and anything. It was pissing you off, to the point you had just shut up and walked away, wanting to talk when the both of you had calmed down. He followed you and it had led to this. "You pushing me away baby?" He looks down, finally noticing one of your hands has left the back of your thigh to try weakly pushing at his hips. The attempt was so futile he hadn't even noticed that was your goal. "Nuh-uh. Take-this-fucking-dick."

Dominate men who talk you through it. "Come on baby, relax that pussy for me, come on." His large hands hold a cheek in each hand, spreading you open for his eyes to watch how your tiny hole splits around his cock. "You're squeezing me too tight pretty girl," He speaks through gritted teeth, head rolling back when you only clamp down on him tighter. "Come on baby, you gotta relax around me-hah-f-fuck or I-I'm going to cum." His thrusts are slow, he has no choice with the way you're sucking him in. You aren't allowing him to fully move and in his quest to get you to loosen up, you've only started clamping down on him more, whining at his words. "There you go pretty girl, loosen up for me, so I can properly fuck this pussy."

or Dominate men who try to talk you through it but their digging so far in your guts you can barely focus on anything but his dick. At this point, you're the drooling mess he loves, and he should know better but he can't help himself. He loves the way you babble away, trying to piece together a coherent response for him to understand only for your words to be slurred. They're almost always lost amongst the sound of his hips meeting the backs of your thighs but he hears you, he somehow pieces together what you say. "Does it feel good baby?" He holds you so you're hanging halfway off the bed, legs pinned to his chest as he uses his grip on your hips to keep you in place. "This is what my baby needed, yeah? Some good dick? That job is always stressing my baby out and she gets snappy, she just needs daddy to fuck her right. That's it, huh baby? My pretty girl just needs daddy to split her open on his cock and her attitude will be all better, huh?"

Dominate men who won't allow you to skip out on aftercare. No matter how tired you feel, especially after an intense session, he keeps you up long enough to wipe the mess from between your thighs. "I know you're tired but here, drink this." He'll hold the cup of water for you, his other hand stroking your arm as you melt into his side. "You did so well tonight." He presses gentle kisses to the crown of your head, one to your nose, smiling when you softly giggle, then a final one to your lips. "You did such a good job, and you were such a good girl." He only receives hums of content in response, a sleepy smile taking over your features as your eyes sink lower. "One more thing, before I let you lay down. Where's your bonnet?"

[dazed--xx]

SKZ Reaction: He Hurts the Reader II (Maknae Line)

A/N: this is for @skz-codeeee lol 😂 im glad I got someone like you in my comments that will keep me on point 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 so thank you ☺️….But Damn it’s been a while since I came back here lol 😂 anyway I apologize for the long wait for this. I promised it a couple days ago but life and kids got in the way for a bit. BUT I hope this makes up for it. Requests are open!!

Masterlist Part 1 Hyung Line

Jisung:

“We’re sorry but the caller you have been trying to reach is not available please—“ you sigh as you press the end button. It had been 2 weeks and no word from Jisung, and while you were mad the first day or two the anger quickly dissipated and dissolve into the longing to fix things. But as things may have it he’s been avoiding you. Your calls go unanswered and your texts ignored. It broke your heart that the result of your previous argument would be this but you couldn’t seem to reach him. Your visits to the dorm have been less than fruitful and you can never find him at his studio. You’d think he’d all but disappeared if it weren’t for Chan, who’d messaged you the start of the second week to make sure you were okay. It was clear he was sent by Jisung to check on you and report back what you said; so with a heavy heart you began telling him about the pain you’ve been feeling whilst being left alone in a country you barely knew and a boyfriend who abandoned you. You explained with tears cascading down your cheeks, how you felt like moving back home to America since you felt like your relationship was over anyway. What you didn’t know was, instead of waiting for a progress report from Chan, Jisung sat watching over his shoulder as his leader messaged you. His heart sank at your confession prompting his legs to act before his body even knew what was happening. He ran.

He ran and ran until it felt like his lungs were going to give out but he continued to speed to your apartment. His fist pounding on the door rapidly, his voice boomed throughout your apartment as he pleaded with you to open the door. You take a heavy breath as you peel yourself off your couch and pull open the door. You stare at Jisung blankly as he takes in your tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. His breath hitches in his throat for a few seconds before he pulls you into his arms. “I’m sorry…d don't leave I'm sorry” he cries. “Please stay here… our relationship isn't over I'm sorry I'm such an ass” his sobbing left him a-quivering mess as he held onto you tightly. “Jisung let me go…” you sigh as you try to pull him off you “At least Come inside it's cold” you growl as you take a small step back allowing him entry. Without releasing you from his hold he sniffles “I couldn’t face you…t-that’s why I—but I never wanted to break up!” he exclaims. Your hands came between you trying to have the conversation face-to-face but Jisung had other plans as his grip grew tighter at your fight. “I’m an asshole, I’m a jerk, and I don’t deserve you. I hurt you then had the nerve to avoid you like you wouldn't want answers” he admits as he cries, you continue to struggle in his hold as you manage to turn away from him. His cheek brushed yours his arms still firmly around your waist “Jisung, if you know all this why are you here?” You argue, as you try to stop your heart from beating out of your chest. “Because I love you…” His words are just above a whisper, his lips brushed against your ear. He pressed himself against you deeper “and I can’t let you go…” you pout as you stare at the ground. “What you did that night was an accident…” you start “But you avoiding me and ignoring me for two weeks? That was deliberate…” your voice cracks “I wanted to fix things and you made me think you moved on—How could I?! How could I move on from you?” He cuts you off, finally releasing his grip on your waist to turn you to face him by your arm. Your face now in his hands “I’m sorry okay I’ll spend everyday making up for what I did but you can’t leave me…” He pouts “You left me!” You snap childishly crossing your arms across your chest “I hurt you!” He exclaimed “it was an accident! I JUST MISSED YOU AND ALL I WANTED WAS TO HEAR FROM YOU AND YOU JUST DISAPPEARED! I love you and you abandoned me!” You cry Jisung takes your face in his hands connecting his eyes with yours “I’d never abandon you. I was taking some space I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it I hated myself for hurting you and I needed that time.” You nod frustratedly. While you were pissed that he disappeared, this level of communication was the entire basis of your relationship. As much as you hated it, Jisung was communicating and while you felt it was a little later than you had hoped. You could see this as the beginning of a more meaningful relationship between the two of you.

Felix:

“I’m at the point where I want to call the cops and tell them I have a stalker…” You growl as you stare at your ex, who sat in your section of the restaurant you had managed to get a job at. He stared up at you, a look of longing and sadness in his eyes as a pout sat on his lips. “Babe….” He whispers as he takes in your appearance “Can I get you anything else tonight sir?” You question prioritizing professionalism, pretending you didn’t know him. “No..” He stammers, you nod definitively and place an awkward smile on your lips “then I will be back with the check” you state as you turn to make your way back to the register, your movements are halted as you feel your wrist encased. You turn to face the culprit “Sir? Is there anything you need?” You ask professionally, taking deep steadying breaths. “I-I need to talk to you…” His voice cracks as he speaks “P-please…I can wait until you get off..just please talk to me” you finally look him in his eye. His appearance has you in shock, his adorably freckled cheeks stained with ghost trails of tears. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. He still looked absolutely angelic but you could tell depression had definitely hit him hard. Though you swore youd never speak to him again, he is still someone you love and it pains you to see him so hurt. You give a small sigh of defeat before nodding “I get off at 8, you’ll have 10 minutes and nothing more okay?” He nods almost excitedly, his eyes lit up at your agreement. He gives you a hopeful look as he releases your wrist “I’ll see you then..” he waves you off.

Why oh why did you have to tell him you’d talk to him? Now you were truly regretting your words, the rest of your shift was hectic and you were exhausted. When you exited the restaurant and saw him leaning against a car, hands in his pockets as he stared at the ground. You could tell even from your distance he was nervous, and scared about how this conversation would go. You trudged your way over to the man you had once grown excited to see every night. “Hey…” he calls sadly; taking in your demeanor “Is now still a good time to talk?” He questions as he notices the exhaustion on your face. You nod swiftly “it’s fine. It’s not like this will take too long” you comment offhandedly. Those words truly hit Felix deep in his chest like an arrow. “C-can I bring you home then? I’d rather you be comfortable even if you don’t think this will take long” you stare at him for a moment before agreeing to his proposal, a small satisfied smile forms on Felix’s heart shaped lips. He quickly pulls the passenger door open gesturing for you to take a seat. You pull yourself into the car and stare at your ex crossing over to the drivers side. You notice how much weight he’d lost, his hair still messy as his face looked as if a fresh batch of tears painted his cheeks. The ride back to your place was awkward and silent, you weren’t sure what to do when Felix pulled into your driveway as he’d said nothing the whole way here. You sat in silence for a few minutes waiting for something, anything to be said.

When it had remained silent Felix looking at nothing but his lap you move to exit the car. Pulling on the handle you hear a slight click then the door doesn’t open. You stare back at Felix, his finger pressed firmly on the lock button. You were puzzled, he said he wanted to talk but didn’t say anything and now he doesn’t want you to leave. “W-wait…” He stammers in a panic “Sorry, I just—I don’t know what to say right now.” He confesses as he stares at his lap once again. Running his hand through his hair for what you can assume to be the millionth time “So what did you want to talk about then Felix?” You question stoically. He sighs “I hate how easy this is for you…” his voice cracks as he tries to meet your eyes “I know I royally fucked up—but you didn’t even give me a chance to fix it…” his hand reaches for yours “please…just give me a chance to fix this…” You stare at him quizzically, a look of disbelief on your face before you scoff at his audacity to blame you for his own actions. “I mean do you blame me?” You snap, your anger building in your gut. He stared at you puzzled “Wha—Do you even know what you did? WHY we’re no longer together?” You growl at him, his mouth hung open not knowing what to say. His eyes searching your face for some clue some hint as to why you didn’t want to talk to him anymore. Before he hung his head and shaking it ‘No’ “Of course you don’t you were absolutely fucking blasted.” You scoff shaking your head to yourself. “Does it matter if I remember what I did or not? I just want to fix this” He cries grabbing ahold of your hand. You stare at him sadly “yes Felix it matters, because what you did is unforgivable…” He shakes his head in denial “Don’t say that…” Tears well up in his eyes as his voice cracks and you try to stare anywhere but at him. “Y-you don’t mean that..you can’t, right? You’re just mad at me, right? Please tell me you’re just mad at me and I can fix this—y-yeah I can make things right again. We love each other we could work through this together right? I’m sorry if I hurt you or anything I did. Im sorry for not making time for you. I’m sorry if I got mad and scared you. Im sorry I’m so fucking sorry for all the mistakes I made and if I knew why you’d left me then id probably agree you’re doing the right thing. But I don’t know and I don’t know what to do…. all I remember is waking up one day and seeing all my stuff in the dorm and Chans girlfriend telling me how much an ass I was and that you never wanted to see me again. I tried calling—I tried everything to see you and fix us but you just disappeared on me I’m sorry okay I’m so fucking sorry.” He rambled his tears flowing down his cheeks as he held your hand tightly against his chest “Please tell me you still love me…just give me once chance I won’t ruin it I don’t care what I did in the past because it won’t be like that going forward I’m sorry I’m so sorry please” He cried placing his forehead on your connected hands as he sobbed.

Your heart ached at the sight, you knew Felix wasn’t the type of guy to continuously harass a woman nor was he the kind that would physically hurt you. Which is why you were surprised that night in the first place but seeing him here, with the same amount of guilt and regret he’d have if he’d remembered that night has you wavering. You could hear his gasps for breath as he struggled to keep himself calm. “Lix..I do still love you please calm down..” you soothe. Freeing one of your hands from his grasp, you rub small circles on his back. You hate how much this hurts, he’s the one that hurt you in the first place and here you were feeling guilty because you made this angelic ball of sunshine cry. “Lix please calm down” you plead as you stare at him the sobbing growing harder and harder his body completely trembling. Tears well up in your eyes “Please…I’m gonna cry if you don’t stop crying” you say your voice cracking as a tear strolls down your cheeks. The sound of your sniffles has him looking at you panicked “I’m sorry, I’ll calm down. I’m sorry” he whispers wiping your tears away. You stare at him, you missed him too. You missed the way he’d hold you when you were upset whispering soothing words and kissing your forehead every once in a while. Felix was your safe haven for so long, since your break up you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel the true pain of the whole situation. You’d thrown yourself into work to the point you’d come home and pass out the second you got to your bed so you didn’t have to think about the pain of losing Felix. But now that he sat infront of you all you wished for was to be in his arms once again. “Please just let me fix things…one chance that’s all I ask.” He stares at you with longing in his eyes. Your heart rests as you place a soft kiss on his cheek. “One chance…”

Seungmin:

The sound of the practice room door being slammed open has your manager cutting the music off as you and your group members jump in your positions for your latest choreography. “Hey!” The youngest exclaims. Her eyes growing wide when she notices who came storming in. You stood in shock as you saw Seungmin barreling into the room straight to SooHee, a scowl embedded on his face as SooHee stood up from her place on the couch she was sitting to ‘observe’ the choreography. She looks up at him and away from her phone, a bright smile on her lips “Hey!” She cheers not noticing the glare on his face. Seungmin aggressively snatches her phone from her hands and throws it harshly on the floor. You and your members stood in shock watching the sight as Soohee stares wide eyed at her phone then back at Seungmin. “Dude! What the hell did you do you do that for?!” She growls Seungmin places himself inches from her face “Keep fucking lying on what kind of relationship you and I have and me breaking your phone will be fucking minor” he growls. “And what are you doing sitting down while the rest of your members are practicing?!” Her eyes widen at his sudden scolding “Who risked their neck to fucking get you here?!” SooHee didn’t know what to say she stared at Seungmin bewildered “Y-you..” her voice is just above a whisper. “I wasted my fucking time! You’re an embarrassment! You’re fucking lazy do you think you can just get by using my name?! A NAME I WORKED MY ENTIRE FUCKING CHILDHOOD AND LIFE TO FUCKING BUILD!” You felt bad for the girl, while you do know Seungmin is doing what almost everyone has been telling him to do. You could tell he’s also blaming SooHee for the argument you both had yesterday. “Min…” you start. Your word goes ignored as the two begin arguing back and forth.

The pair are lost in their own world spewing venom at each other. your team not sure exactly what to do in this situation as Seungmin was saying something almost everyone wanted to say but you felt the second hand embarrassment for the girl. “Yah! Kim Seungmin!” You growl.

He whips his head toward you ready to chew off the head of the person who is interrupting his conversation, before he was met with your menacing glare. His anger quickly dissipating and he stares at the ground. “Who do you think you are to come in here and scold MY member?!” You growl. While you didn’t like SooHee, you were this groups leader and you’ll be damned if anyone but you scolded her. His eyes widened, knowing your level of protection toward your members was almost equivalent to his own leaders. “Y-Y/N I’m—no I don’t need to hear your apologies.” You cut him off before turning to Soohee “SooHee practice with Minji actually learn the steps this time. You” you point at Seungmin gesturing for him to follow you out the practice room. “Y/N I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have—Like I said I don’t care. Don’t come in and interrupt my practice sessions. When I told you to talk to your friend I meant outside of my practice hours where she can actually learn something. You came in there and fucking embarrassed her why?” He scratches the back of his neck looking at the ground “Jisung told me the him and Chan helped you guys record last night and that SooHee was giving me a bad name. Even to my own members she was saying she didn’t have to listen because she knew me. Then I just thought about how she kept causing problems for you and how you’d probably never want to see me again because of what I did because of her and I just—I lost it okay?!” He confesses. You stare at the boy a pout on your lips “Minnie I love you why wouldn’t I want to see you again? Tension was high we were both stressed we got into an argument but that’s all…” you confess. He stares at you with a small hopeful pout “Really? But SooHee—Lied? I knew she was lying Seungmin. You’d never cheat on me okay? I know that” you cut him off wrapping your arms around his neck “it’s been only one night and you just lost your mind without me huh?” You chuckle pressing yourself against his frame. His responds by wrapping his arms securely around your waist holding you in his arms as if he’d lose you if he let go. “That’s not funny, I don’t even like thinking for one second that you’re not my girl anymore let alone a full night” he whines. “You have quite the attitude but you’re such a softie” you tease petting his head gently. “Only for you baby. Don’t tell me to leave you alone again okay? I might truly lose my mind” He places soft kisses all over your face. “You’d never have to worry about anything like that, Min. You’re stuck with me” you smile taking his face in your hands pressing a kiss firmly on his lips “By the way, if you wouldn’t have embarrassed SooHee I’d have told you good job…” you smirk.

Jeongin:

“W-what are you doing?”

Your heart sunk when you heard the panicked tone of your ex boyfriends voice. You silently cursed to yourself as you had made sure to come on a day you knew he had practice. Choosing to ignore the boy you continue to make your way through the apartment toward the door with another box of your things. “Y-Y/N..You can’t be serious..I—I—how—please stop!” He cries as he struggles to find something to say. Ever since that night you had been staying at a hotel and for you to be coming to get your things must mean you had found a new permanent place to live and that absolutely scared him. How he wished he had controlled himself even just a little more, then he wouldn’t have fucked up so badly and you wouldn’t be packing up all the you he had left to cling onto. The idea that you would come back is now being ripped away from him and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He rushed into your once shared bedroom seeing two more already filled boxes. He quickly begins pulling it open and unpacking everything as tears streamed down his face. “Jeongin stop what are you doing?” You ask stoically. He stares at you with tears in his eyes “You want time away from me and space?! That’s fine but you’re not leaving me!” He sobs.

You sigh tiredly “yes I a—No you’re not! Please! I know how badly I fucked up! I shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, I-I shouldn’t have hurt you but please I’ve been trying for weeks now to make it up to you. To just see you again, but if I didn’t come home early by chance then I would have come home and you would have been completely gone…? How is that fair!? I want to fix this I want to be with you, I love you and I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry. I’m pathetic and insecure and disgusting for what I did. You were right to slap me I don’t blame you for it I’m a piece of shit and I deserve this okay? I know I deserve this but I don’t want it! I want to fight for you—I want you to know how much I love you and I would never do it again.” He cut you off as he began to rant. His tone is panicked and fear laced through it. He continued to pull your stuff out of the boxes. Your heart ached for the breaking boy in front of you. You slowly grab the other box and go to make your way to the door in Jeongin’s movements. Your halted as the box is ripped from your arms “No! You can’t!” He exclaims as he drops to his knees wrapping his arms around your waist. “Please…don’t leave” his breathing is growing heavier and heavier. You could tell he was on the the verge of a panic attack. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he stared at you with wide pleading eyes.

“Jeongin..”

“Please, I’m sorry I’d never do anything like that again. You know me..you know that I’m not like that” he begs. “I thought that I knew you once but I don’t—don’t say that. You don’t mean that please tell me you don’t mean that..” he cut you off. His tone was heartbreaking, he sounded so unsure; about what to do, where to turn, how to fix this. He couldn’t figure out how to keep you with him. He wanted you to stay he’d chain himself to you if that’s what it took at this point. Anything to keep you from walking out that door and not coming back. “Yang Jeongin! This needs to st—I love you!” He cuts you off hesitantly “I love you so much and I’m so sorry but I can’t let you go. I need you to give me another chance even if it’s to talk. So I’m sorry, I love you and I won’t let you go. I’ll give anything to keep you with me so if you want to leave you’re going to have to kill me before I let you go” he state’s definitively. “You sound fucking crazy” you scoff crossing your arms over your chest. “You not being here with me drives me crazy” he states matter of factly. You roll your eyes at the boy. He damn sure was persistent. You could remember how terrified of him you were just a few weeks ago, but to see the same man ugly crying so disparagingly in the ground it made your heart waver. The eyes that once shot daggers at you are now pleading for you to connect with them. The lips that spewed venom in your direction were now begging for you to never leave and his hands that once gripped your hair and chin so harshly were gently caressing your waist holding you against him as he sobbed. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, you weren’t sure where you could turn for answers.

You stare down at the fox like man, he pouted up at you. You could feel the tension around the room building. You placed your hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath. Your breath feels shaky and your throat felt as if it was closing in on its self

“Please..” Jeongin whispers

Taglist: @yangbbokari @justjxnniie @imjustme-things @slayhyunjin @aurora1115 @lolareadsimagines @conwunder @myexolady

[inmyheaddd]

dating grayson hawthorne head cannons

wc ⇨ 800 a/n ⇨ grayson hawthorne i love u!!! masterlist

grayson is the type of man who’d spoil you endlessly. anything you even mention, look at for a second too long, even a passing interest—you best believe it’s at your doorstep the next day. his attentiveness is almost surreal; he noticed you were playing a particular artist slightly more than usual over the past week, and then got you VIP tickets to an upcoming show. 

in turn, you try to match his level and surprise him with things he likes.

you knew grayson collected watches, and with jamesons help, you found out which one was missing from his collection. you’d been making a scrapbook over the past year, and this was no better time to gift it as well.

you walk into his study, slightly confused as he never really calls you in there, “yeah, what’s up?”

“was this your doing?” he gestures towards a gift placed on the desk his sitting at, with a tiny smile present on his face.

“oh,” you struggle to hide your own smile. “yeah it was, why?” 

standing and approaching you, he gently places his hands on your face. "my love, you know you don't have to get me anything, right?" he says softly.

“yeah, i know, but you always do things for me, i just wanted to return the favor” you explain.

“your presence is everything i need and more.” grayson hawthorne had a way of speaking that left no room for arguments. but that was grayson hawthorne, in your eyes, he was just grayson.

“grayson,” you drag out his name in protest, rolling your eyes jokingly, “just open the gift please, let me do something nice for you.” 

“everything you do is nice for me.” he counters.

“grayson.”

“y/n.” 

your attempt at a stern look dissolves into laughter. chuckling at your antics, grayson lowers his hands and decides, "i’ll open it." he never liked to back down, but for you, seeing your radiant smile was worth it. "come here," he beckons, leading you back to his desk and encouraging you to sit across his lap. you oblige.

opening the gift, the first thing he finds is a letter you wrote. heat rises to your cheeks at the thought of him reading the words you poured your heart into, right in front of you. "you don't have to read it now; just look at the other things," you suggest.

“you got me something else?” he sounds truly confused, like no one had ever put thought into him before. you laugh softly, turning your head to face him “obviously, i’d give you the moon if i could.”  

“you shouldn’t have,” he says as he recognizes the brand on the box, previously covered by the letter.

“shouldn’t have gotten you the moon? i didn’t actua—“ your joke is cut short as he raises an eyebrow, though the slight curve of his lips betrays his attempt at seriousness. 

you look down at his lips and back up to his eyes, “what?” you muse at him, as he held eye contact even after your dad joke was cut off, instead of returning to his unboxing.

you often found yourself getting lost into his eyes, momentarily forgetting everything around you this. 

his silver eyes often said more than he did, and you yearned to master the language they spoke.

“i just love you so much.” it wasn’t the first time he’s spoken those words, but it wasn’t a very common occurrence. it just made them all the more meaningful

grayson preferred to say it in other ways, like the 2 squeezes he gives your hand, or when your foreheads stay connected for a moment longer after you’ve shared a kiss. 

his love language is gift giving — clearly, and quality time. 

he plans all your dates meticulously, knowing exactly what you like and what you’d have fun doing.

your relationship is pretty private, everyone knows you’re together, and you post the occasional “soft launch” type of post on your story, but that’s really it.

you’re his muse. his private photography account is simply full of you.

hes not one for extreme PDA, in his opinion its no one’s business but you two’s. handholding, an arm around your waist/ shoulder, peck on the cheek, is practically the limit.

as much as you tell him not to, he puts your needs above everything, even himself. 

he never thought of himself as someone who enjoyed physical touch; he was reserved to say the least, until he met you.

he can’t fall asleep without having some sort of contact with you. 

he wakes up with the most endearingly messy bed head, you adore it. him on the other hand, not so much.

grayson calls off every meeting and any plans he has whenever you’re sick or not feeling your best to stay by your side. movie marathons, all the food you’re craving, soup, blanket forts —he’s doing it all.

you insist on him going and that you’ll be fine, but 10 minutes later you realise there’s no place you’d rather be than here with him.

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie interview: All about Desires

4dkelly notes: I had fun making this in an interview style Q&A between 4dbarbie and Vanessa. I thought "how would 4dbarbie answer anon questions if she were still here today?". Spoiler alert, it wouldn't be much different to the questions anons asked her lol. Most answers are just directly extracted from her posts/answered asks but some have been adapted a bit or rearranged to make it flow better. I have added some relevant posts for further reading. I may or may not make more of these. This was mainly just for fun (but then it really evolved into an educational piece lol). My highlight key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Vanessa: I really like this guy and want to manifest him. 😢 How do I do that?

4dbarbie: IMAGINE KNOWING ALL THIS AND STRESSING OVER A GUY?!?!? Unbelievable. Who's holding you at gun point to type this out to me??? 😧😧😧 I refuse to believe this is what this material is getting wasted on. I refuse to believe this is the understanding you guys have after I explained who you are in so many ways. Imagine liking someone who didn't text you back right after to tell you how amazing you are as well 🤮 what do you like about this nobody? You want to give me a heart attack? I tell you there is no one out there but you and instead of being free and loving yourself you... you give a crumb of your precious attention to this? I tell you you are life and you try to make life better through dates?

Vanessa: Okay but what about my other desires? I want them...

4dbarbie: Everything about Vanessa is meaningless. She has a life and if it's boring, who cares? Forget it. What do you need these stories for? Do you not understand they have reality because you give it to them? YOU! They have no standing on their own! The whole world is just your mere thought. The body exists because you are aware of it being! Only you have this power. Only you are. Why are you dreaming like this? Gosh, you break my heart. If Vanessa is hurting you why do you keep on choosing her?

Vanessa: Then what should I do? I still have things I desire despite knowing I cannot desire because I am not a person, ego, mind...

4dbarbie: You know it intellectually, but have you acted on it at all? You know yourself as Vanessa by acting like Vanessa, know yourself as your Self by acting like yourself. Desires and fears dissipate then. You have desires still because you never stopped thinking you're Vanessa. Investigate who Vanessa actually is :) Spoiler alert: it's a thought! Think something else and see what happens.

Vanessa: How long will this take? When will I see a change?

4dbarbie: Now. Who is doing the change in attitude, what are you waiting for to happen for you to change your attitude? It's instant. You see it, you realize you have no reason to worry/doubt/desire/fear anymore, let things happen as they happen while you're undisturbed and they dissolve.

Vanessa: Should I just keep assuming that I don't desire things anymore because I already have it while I'm denying and dismissing my senses? It feels like I'm just waiting and being delusional though

4dbarbie: Your world is right and perfect, what you see is what you are so even if you're seeing what 'you' don't want, the world is not wrong in being what it is. Fearing it, trying to manipulate it, lying to yourself about it being something different - all useless and vain attempts.

Not seeing the world as it is, is an aversion to it. - Lester Levenson

See it as it is and it will fix itself.

And no, being delusional is not good, it leads you not to trust your own judgment or senses. Which is not right, why shouldn't you? What is wrong with your vision? Being delusional from your ego self is really harmful, someone could be abusing you and you would go "i'm sure that's not right he loves me so much in my mind!!!"

You won't be able to get rid of the waiting feeling as long as you're identified with your ego, it can manipulate nothing. And if you weren't your ego -- everything would already be materialized, so there would be nothing to wait for.

Vanessa: Well since I Am and I give life to everything, when Vanessa desires something, I can just "give" her her desires, right?

4dbarbie: The desire that *I*... the desire is of Vanessa, the Self can have that and it's nothing to it. It's just another experience. Those things are in you, not you in them.

You don't have to give her anything... you don't have to fulfill anybody... I Am is already everything... you only don't see you are all and have the all because you won't stop thinking you're the ego. All you're doing all the time is creating lack & limitation, perfection already is. You just add unsatisfying labels constantly with your wrong thinking.

Let go of the thinking, it's instant. No need to fulfill anybody. 1 My tip is to realize your Self, have enough courage to face Vanessa's fears. See how unnecessary is to pay them any mind at all. Let go of thinking you are this little helpless thing already. After you realize yourself, any bold assertion does it. There's no time delay. 2

Vanessa: Now I feel defeated, do I just give up on everything then?

4dbarbie: Feeling defeat is actually good, it prompts you to let go :D You don't need to reach for what is already within you. Give up the idea that you have not found it and just let it come into the focus of direct perception, here and now, by letting go of all that is of the mind.

Abandon all sense of separation, see yourself in all and act accordingly - Nisargadatta Maharaj

You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person.

Vanessa: So as Awareness, I have to stop desiring?

4dbarbie: If you know yourself to be Awareness, then you know yourself to be the all. There is nothing to desire, because you have no reason to create desire.

That's why it's necessary to realize all that is is awareness and the person comes second. If you think all that is is the person, then the chances of believing you're suddenly a different person are slim, and the persuasion and convincing are nothing but a form of self-instilled mental torture. 1 All you're doing is imagining/thinking you're an ego who has to strive for things, but it is "I AM" imagining itself to be so.

What is beyond is clear of all striving. The cause of suffering is in the identification of the perceiver with the perceived. - Nisargadatta Maharaj

When that identification ceases, so does desire. Then, if you want to express yourself as being a person, nothing is stopping you from doing so, only know yourself first. After that, no matter what you choose to experience the world as, you will know you are not it and it can't hurt you.

Vanessa: What do I do when a desire or fear comes to my mind then? It doesn't feel right to suppress them...

4dbarbie: I am not talking of suppression. Just refuse attention. Nisargadatta has a saying "When you happen to walk in a crowd, you do not fight every man you meet — you just find your way between." Neville has another "Indifference is the knife that severs, feeling is the tie that binds." When you refuse to play the game, you are out of it.

Vanessa: Then how do I stop feeling anxious about trying to change my life?

4dbarbie: You are not the one who is anxious or fearful, the ego is fearful. LOA was wrong about letting go because you can't let go of desires or fears if you don't know who you really are. If you think you are this ego you can't help being anxious. You can't help wanting to get. Real surrendering can only be of the ego. By letting go of who you think you are and seeing you were never it in the first place, that it is because YOU are, you naturally drop all desires and fears because they weren't yours. 1 Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them.

Abandon all imaginings and know yourself as you are. All craving is due to a sense of insufficiency. When you know that you lack nothing, that all there is, is you and yours, desire ceases. - Nisargadatta Maharaj

Vanessa: How do I stop feeling doubts then?

4dbarbie: You shut them down. There is no reason to argue with them, contemplate them, or give them any kind of attention at all. See them for what they are, an illusion of the mind. When you catch yourself being aware of something that's undesirable, just go 'What problem?' and know it to be perfect again. Always remember, the real you can't have doubts, only your ego can.

Vanessa: I feel like I'm not doing enough to realize my true Self. How can I be more productive on this journey?

4dbarbie: There's nothing to be productive about. What a silly concept. Don't add another burden or worry onto yourself. Right now you make yourself guilty over not seeking more and doing more to attain realization, but you already have it. You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours.

The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey lovely, today request from me🥰

I got struck on an idea where reader tried to dominate Elijah but always fail so, she get Klaus help with some magical witchy rope or something to subdue him, which was successful.

Tho here's the thing, reader is inexperienced in doing something like that and not prepped enough to take him, cuz y'know Elijah is big.. hehehe😌🤭so she started tear up, and ask for his help. Elijah being a smug he is punish her happily after...can you added a sprinkle of daddy kink and overstimulation, pretty puh-lease with the cherry on top🙏🥺

Oh btw your story always superb 🤩 😁

Bindings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I decided to change it from Klaus to Davina, because I just can't see Klaus being okay with you essentially making a weapon against his family... Even if the reason behind it is just for some kinky fun ♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: smut, *magical* bondage, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, spanking, choking, sex toys and a whole lotta praise...

You sat in Davina's greenhouse, looking around at all the various plants and flowers the young witch had collected. You had asked Davina to meet up with you to help with a problem, one that was a bit awkward to even say out loud, but you knew that she of all people would understand.

You watched her browse through her books, trying to find the spell you had requested. After a few moments, Davina had found the page and started gathering the items needed.

"Davina?" you said.

She looked up from the table and gave you a curious look. "Yeah?"

"You don't think this is a little crazy? I mean, it's a bit of a long shot."

Davina smiled. "Not at all. I may have.... tried it myself... with Kol," she replied, looking away with a light blush.

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It worked?"

She shrugged trying to appear cool, but her mischievous grin gave away her answer. You smiled back and the two of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.

After the laughter had calmed down, you looked at her questioningly. "So, how does it work?"

Davina took a seat on the couch next to you and showed you the spell she had found.

"The basic binding is actually quite simple, it's the ingredients that are tricky," she explained, "luckily I have white oak ash, and the rest should be easy to find."

You nodded and listened intently as Davina read through the list of ingredients and their uses. She began by grinding the herbs and mixing them in a bowl, followed by the white oak ash.

Once the mixture was complete, Davina took a long silk rope that you had provided and dipped it in the bowl. She held the rope above the bowl, letting the excess liquid drip off as she chanted the incantation.

"Done," Davina announced, handing you the now-dry rope. "It will keep him bound and unable to break free. You can use it any way you'd like." She grinned, giving you a knowing look.

You couldn't believe how easy it had been, that you were so close to fulfilling a long-held fantasy of yours. "Thank you, Davina. You're the best," you said, pulling her into a hug.

She hugged you back, giggling as she pulled away. "One more thing, if you need to break the spell, just say 'confractus' and it will untie itself,"

You nodded, thanking her again before making your way home, the rope clutched tightly in your hand.

It was the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever purchased. It wasn't even something you could wear outside your bedroom, but damn, did it make you feel sexy.

The lingerie was a red, sheer babydoll dress with black lace trim, and it was paired with a matching thong and stockings. You had never worn anything so revealing before, but you knew Elijah would like it, and that was all that mattered.

You wanted to get him all worked up, break down the gentleman facade, make him want you so badly that he would do whatever you asked. You had been waiting for the right moment to try the rope Davina had created, and you were certain that tonight was the night.

You pulled a robe over your outfit, concealing it until the right moment. Then you sat back on your bed and texted Elijah.

"Are you free tonight?"

A few moments later, your phone vibrated.

"For you, always."

You grinned and quickly replied, "Come over."

He sent a thumbs up, and you tossed your phone aside, your nerves kept you from sitting still, and you spent the next ten minutes pacing anxiously around the room. When you finally heard a knock on the door, you jumped, startled by the sound. You took a deep breath and walked to the front of your apartment.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sight that made your mouth water. Elijah was dressed casually, in just a t-shirt and jeans, it was a rare sight, and one that had you practically drooling.

You stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of him, until he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, sorry. Come in." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let yourself melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

"What's this for?" You asked, teasingly tugging on his t-shirt, your hands roaming across his broad chest. "Has your dry-cleaner gone and quit on you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I figured we would just have a quiet night in. No need for the formalities."

You nodded, your hands traveling down to his waist. You felt his body tense slightly when your fingers began to dance along the bare skin under the hem of his shirt.

"Well, I have a surprise for you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He raised an eyebrow and gave you a curious look. "A surprise? Well, now I'm intrigued."

You laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Once inside, you turned and faced him, taking a deep breath before you began to untie your robe. But then you stopped, looking at him with a naughty smirk.

"Take off your shirt," you ordered, your voice suddenly more confident.

He looked surprised by your words, but quickly obliged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

"Hmmm," you smiled as your eyes traveled down his body, appreciating his toned abs and muscular arms, lingering on where a trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. "Now the pants."

You watched as his hands moved to unbutton his jeans. He kept his gaze locked on you, his dark eyes filled with lust. Once the pants were undone, he slowly pushed them down, revealing his black boxer briefs and the outline of his half-hard cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew this was just the beginning. As much as you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless, you had a plan, and you were determined to stick to it.

"Get on the bed," you commanded, gesturing to the large mattress behind him.

He climbed onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and watching you with curiosity. You untied the belt of your robe and let it fall open, revealing the sheer lingerie underneath.

Elijah's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as they traveled over your body.

"Do you like it?" You asked, teasingly running a finger along the edge of the lace trim.

He nodded, unable to speak, his cock already fully hard and straining against his underwear.

"Good, because I want you to do something for me," you said, your voice low and husky.

He nodded again, his gaze fixed on you.

"Take off your underwear and stroke your cock."

You watched him pull his boxer briefs down and wrap his large hand around his thick shaft, slowly stroking himself.

The sight of him pleasuring himself made your own arousal grow. You let your robe drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs.

He groaned, his eyes never leaving your body as he continued stroking his cock.

"Darling, you are a vision," he breathed, his voice deep and raspy with desire.

You felt heat pooling between your legs, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your lingerie.

You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues battling for dominance as you moaned into his mouth. His other hand came up to grab your ass, pulling you closer.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with lust.

"Touch yourself," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you smirked, "I have something else in mind."

You reached over and picked up the rope, which you had placed within reach on the nightstand. You watched his eyes widen, his hand stopping its movements as he stared at the rope.

"Do you want me to tie you up?" He grinned, his hand starting to stroke his cock again.

"I have something else in mind," you repeated.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

"Hands up," you commanded, leaning back slightly to give him space.

He paused for a moment before lifting his arms above his head, resting them on the pillow behind him.

You brought the rope over his wrists, looping it around and tying them together. He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing.

"I never took you for a bondage girl, darling."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you replied, your tone playful as you pulled the rope tighter.

"Unfortunately I don't think this silk rope will hold me," he said, smirking as he tugged at the restraints.

You ignored him, continuing to tie his wrists to the headboard. Once you were satisfied with the knots, you sat back and admired your work, enjoying the way he looked helpless and at your mercy.

"Oh yeah?" You questioned, trailing a finger down his chest and abs, watching him shiver.

You slowly shrugged off one of the straps of your babydoll, letting the top slide down, exposing one breast.

His eyes fixated on your bare chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"Mmmm," you hummed, rolling the hard bud between your fingers, teasing him. Then you did the same with the other strap, pushing the top down until your breasts were completely exposed.

Elijah let out a low moan, his cock twitching against his stomach.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his eyes burning with desire.

"Do you want to touch them daddy?" You cooed, running your hands up and down your breasts.

"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

"Go ahead, tear the rope and touch me."

"Gladly."

He tugged at the rope, once, twice, three times. It didn't budge, much to his surprise.

"How the..." he started to say, looking up at the knotted rope.

"It's just a bit of magic," you smirked, your confidence growing as you watched him struggle.

You knew the ropes wouldn't hold him forever, but you planned on making the most of the time they did.

"Now, where were we?" You leaned forward, bringing your breasts close to his face.

He craned his neck up, trying to capture one of your nipples with his mouth, but you pulled away, denying him.

"Uh uh," you scolded, "You can look, but no touching."

You moved forward again, brushing your breast against his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, trying to suck on the hardened peak, but you kept it just out of reach.

"I will be free soon enough, little one," he growled, his eyes locking onto yours, "and when I am, you're going to be punished for teasing me."

His words sent a thrill through you, but you remained calm, refusing to show him any signs of weakness.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, daddy?" You asked, taunting him as you rolled your hips, your wetness coating his skin.

He groaned at the sensation, his dark, lust-filled eyes watched as you began to touch his body, teasing and tormenting him.

You raked your nails down his chest and abs, earning a hiss of pleasure. You licked a hot stripe up his neck, biting his earlobe before moving to his lips. You kissed him roughly, your teeth grazing his lower lip, and he moaned, deepening the kiss.

Your hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly as he tried to buck his hips into your touch. You pulled back, smirking at him.

"You're not going to come until I say you can, understood?"

"Yes, my dear," he breathed, his eyes closing in pleasure as you tightened your grip on his shaft.

"Good boy."

You kissed him again, your tongues dancing together as you pumped his cock. He moaned into your mouth, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for release.

You broke the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to have him.

You positioned yourself over his throbbing member, lining him up with your entrance. You felt a flash of nervousness, not knowing how well you would be able to take him, but the excitement overrode the anxiety.

You lowered yourself down slowly, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by inch.

"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the feeling of him buried so deep, making your legs shake.

He hummed, his biceps straining against the rope as he struggled to break free. You placed your hands on his chest, using him as leverage as you began to ride him.

You knew right away that you were in trouble. Usually Elijah would take the lead, getting you all wet and worked up, he always took his time, and the pleasure he brought was slow and delicious.

But this, being on top and having all the control, was something you hadn't experienced before. It was intense, and you weren't sure if you could handle it.

Your thighs were burning as you lifted yourself up and down, but you were determined to keep going. Your eyes met his and the sight of his pupils blown wide with desire was enough encouragement for you to continue.

You rode him faster, your breath coming in short gasps. You were getting close, so close, but it was somehow all too much and not enough. You didn't think it would be this much work, and you could feel your energy waning.

It was a terrible feeling, finally getting what you wanted and being disappointed by it. You had been so confident, but now your thighs were burning and you were struggling to keep up a steady rhythm.

You looked at the ropes, seeing that they were still secure. There was no way you would be able to finish this yourself. You were going to need help.

"Eli," you whimpered, your nails digging into his chest.

"Yes, my dear," he groaned.

"I-I'm not sure... If I can keep going," you admitted, panting as you struggled to continue, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek.

"Well, I'm still quite enjoying myself. You look absolutely exquisite like this," he teased, his eyes roaming your body.

"Elijah," you whined, "please. I-I can't."

He gave you a knowing smirk. "If you can't keep up, maybe I should be the one in charge."

"Please," you begged, your face flushing as the humiliation of being denied what you wanted so badly washed over you.

"You created this problem for yourself, little one," he reminded, "but luckily, I'm in a giving mood."

You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help you, even if he did enjoy teasing you about it. You reached up and undid the knots, releasing his hands from their restraints.

As soon as his hands were free, Elijah gripped your hips, flipping you over so he was on top. You yelped in surprise, the sudden change in position leaving you breathless.

"You are such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "So eager to please."

He kissed you hungrily, his hands exploring your body, his fingers tugging at the hem of your lingerie.

"And this," he murmured against your lips, "is very pretty. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to tear it."

Before you could protest, he ripped the babydoll in half, exposing your entire body to him. He tossed the torn fabric aside, his dark eyes roaming your naked form.

"But it was expensive," you half-protested, even though you were throbbing at the gesture of dominance and disregard.

He growled and pinched your nipple, earning a sharp gasp, then he soothed it with a swirl of his tongue, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"How much did that little magical rope cost you?"

You shuddered, already realizing this was the price you had to pay. You knew he would punish you for this stunt and it turned you on more.

"N-nothing, it was a favor from a friend," you muttered.

He didn't like the vagueness of your answer and took the rope and tied it around your wrists as he started kissing you again, your tongue clashing with his, while his large hand roamed your body, tweaking your nipples, earning a soft moan, and then traveling down south, running his fingertips along your skin, teasing and tickling you softly.

"You are going to do exactly as I say now, understood?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," you whined, already desperately bucking against his hand.

Elijah released you, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging you to the head of the bed, tying the rope to the headboard so your arms are stretched high over your head. You were on your knees, and completely under his power.

You heard him rummaging around in his dresser and your heart began beating quickly from nervousness and excitement.

He kissed the back of your neck, the heat of his body warming you, and causing goosebumps to cover your skin. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you instinctively arched into his embrace.

"My sweet pet, are you ready to be punished?" he asked as he held one of his ties in front of your face, "Do you have a safe word?"

Your mind raced as he put the tie over your eyes. You quickly selected a word, just in case you needed it, though you sincerely doubted that would happen. Even when he was dominant like this, he always put your pleasure first, but you wanted him to believe you were scared.

"Coffee."

"Excellent," he replied as the smooth fabric was tied tightly around your head.

You tried to lean forward but couldn't move an inch with the rope around your wrists. This rope has successfully restrained Elijah, there was no way you were getting free until he cut you loose.

"I must say… that magic rope is quite a dangerous weapon, a threat to my family." He whispered against your ear, a hint of danger in his voice, sending an excited tingle through you.

You suddenly felt his strong hand wrap tightly around your neck. He wasn't squeezing yet but he was definitely letting you know who's in charge.

"You and I both know how I handle threats to my family," he said, pressing a kiss against your neck.

A moan escaped your lips and you could hear him chuckle. You were so wound up, you weren't sure how long you could take this.

"Stay quiet," Elijah commanded.

As if in punishment, he withdrew his hand from your throat, and you almost immediately missed the feeling of his warm hand against you. A sudden slap to your ass made your body jolt.

It burned from the force of it, his large, powerful palm practically covering your entire cheek. Every sensation was heightened by the tie around your eyes and you felt your whole body heating up, your blood rushing in anticipation of what was to come.

He hit you again, on the same cheek, harder than the last time. The sound of his hand hitting your flesh seemed to fill the room. Tears pooled in your covered eyes, the burning sensation making your body hum in pleasure, mixed with a bit of pain.

You weren't sure if you could handle one more of his heavy-handed swats. Your arms hurt from being pulled high above your head, and your wrists were already chafing.

You heard him reach into your night stand, searching for something that would bring you a different kind of pain. He found what he was looking for, trailing it down your spine. It was cold and smooth, and it made your stomach drop when you realized what it was.

"Eli- wait," you protested, none of this night was going to plan, but this? You had fantasized about it, sure, but this was-

Your mind went blank when he pushed it inside you, and without mercy, he switched it on. It buzzed to life and the sudden onslaught of the vibrations made your legs shake uncontrollably, your wrists burning slightly as you pulled on them.

It was like you were filled with electricity. And the noises you were making? They were a mix of moans and pleas for release, your body already nearing its limit.

His hand was gone, no more spanking and yet- the buzzing didn't stop, you had no release in sight and that's when you realized your mistake. He wasn't going to let you finish, the intention to drive you near your peak only to take you back down.

It was torture.

And you were absolutely loving it.

The minutes seem to tick by, maybe hours. Who knows anymore. All you're aware of is your trembling thighs, sweat glistening your back and your voice, cracking slightly as you scream and moan, writhing at the touch of his hand, then the hard buzzing once again.

"Hmm, we've never tried this setting before," he mused.

"Please Eli-"

He increased the intensity, a loud buzz echoing the room, and a series of vulgar curses escaping your lips, making him laugh.

The vibrator inside you was now pulsing at a rapid pace, the pleasure blinding, building, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable.

"Don't you dare come," he ordered.

"I can't-" you began, already starting to crumble under his control.

He gave the end of the vibrator a small twist and it hit a new spot that was pure euphoria. You tried to hold on, but it was impossible, your vision went white as an orgasm rocked through you, stealing your breath away, and all of the pent up tension that was burning in the depths of your core.

You let out an ecstasy-laced scream, every fiber in you igniting, every nerve firing at once as an immense surge of pleasure washed through your trembling body, shaking you to the core.

In that moment there was only bliss. The kind of sweet bliss that washes over your exhausted form, turning your limbs to rubber and melting your insides.

Your wrists ached, and you expected Elijah to untie you, but he had gone perfectly still behind you. Your heart began to race, suddenly filled with worry about whether he had become angered by your release. You honestly couldn't undergo another round of his erotic torture and live through it.

The silence and inaction was far worse than any punishment and you felt fear creep up your neck. Suddenly the vibrator turned back on at the max setting and his hand came down hard on your ass once again, leaving it stinging and burning, and tears brimming your lids, even as your body reacted with arousal.

You weren't even sure if your wrists could survive another round and it didn't help that the orgasm had made you sensitive to the point of numbness, but you can already feel your legs shaking, threatening to buckle underneath your exhausted form.

"Daddy, please I can't. I'll pass-" you started, the warning cut off with another slap.

You couldn't do it anymore, your wrists hurt more than the spanking. You remembered Davina had said that the rope could be undone with one word from you. Just as another spank was about to rain down, you rasped out 'confractus' and the rope fell off your wrists. You didn't waste a second, the moment you felt your hands free, you were tugging the blindfold down and pulling the vibrator out of you, tossing it across the bed and collapsing.

Elijah looked a bit shocked by your sudden escape, but that didn't stop him. With you no longer held in the bindings, he took it as another reason to keep punishing you and he grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him.

His eyes were hard and wild, almost black, and his lips were curled up in a delicious smirk as he locked eyes with yours. The blindfold was held tight against your neck with one hand, keeping the pressure just enough to cause slight discomfort.

But then his eyes flicked to your wrists and the damage that had been done. The burns were deep, almost red and his demeanor changed instantly. His expression went soft, filled with remorse, but his dark, lust-filled eyes didn't change, still heated and primal, and needing release.

"I sometimes forget how delicate you are," he said softly, taking one of your wrists into his hand and giving a gentle kiss.

You flinched a little from the sting of it, watching his apology fill his eyes. You knew his guilt and self loathing was about to start, but before he could pull away, you reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and smashed your lips against his.

"I love when you get like this Eli," you admitted as the kiss broke, "Punishing me, fucking me, owning me. So don't start beating yourself up."

His response was an immediate hot sigh against your lips, relieved that he didn't hurt you.

"You do like the attention, do you?" he teased lightly, nuzzling your nose.

You nod, giving another kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always, but can you make this punishment worth it? It better end in a long, hot shower together or I might pass out," you whispered with a cheeky smile.

His shoulders shook from a silent laugh and his arms moved to either side of your face, caging you in with his warm presence, and you couldn't help the blush that spread through your cheeks as the emotion on his face flickered between the self-hating Elijah to the sweet one that you were in love with.

He ran his hand down your leg, then he lifted your thigh and held it against his hip and slowly, gently eased himself inside you. His lips were inches from and you couldn't look away. His eyes had softened now, and your heart melted at the devotion in them, only meant for you.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck as you clung to his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pace gradually quickened. Your toes curled as waves of pleasure washed over you, but you held on this time, waiting for his permission, wanting to find release together.

His lips caressed your neck, his breathing ragged, and his movements became more erratic as his own control began to slip. The low, animalistic sounds rumbling in his chest nearly set you off, but somehow you managed to hang on.

Your mind is a fog, filled with everything Elijah; his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breath, his low voice in your ear, his hips moving in a perfect tempo. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and intoxicating. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out, especially with the way he was whispering your name like a prayer.

Your legs began to tremble again, Elijah knew you were close, and you were being so good for him. He could see the effort your restraint required in the furrow of your brow and the desperation in your eyes, he saw it in the twitching of your fingers and he felt the small spams from the place the two of you are joined.

"You've been such a good girl, come for me sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at your ear.

You closed your eyes and threw your head back. It felt like the earth beneath you cracked open and molten pleasure coursed through your veins, pouring into every cell and nerve, bathing you in absolute bliss.

Elijah kept rocking, dragging out your orgasm and making his own release finally explode throughout every part of him. As the both of you shook from pleasure, he didn't stop kissing you, kissing your cheeks, neck, and nose as the both of you tried to calm down. You clung to his biceps, relishing his touch, trying to calm down your raging heartbeat.

He released you and flipped onto his back, tugging you along, and making sure that you stayed close. You cuddled into his side, giving his chest small, gentle kisses.

He took your wrist, seeing the faint redness where the rope had burned your skin and gave it another tender kiss.

"Don't tell Klaus about the rope, he would not be very pleased to know you and Davina are making weapons behind his back, love."

You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, "how did you know it was Davina?"

He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of your head.

"Call it an educated guess," he teased and his hand playfully smacked your butt.

You both gave out a little chuckle before falling back into a comfortable silence. Your body had officially given out on you and exhaustion had taken over your form.

Elijah lifted you up out of bed and brought you to the shower, making sure that you were clean of any sticky sweat or traces of what had gone down moments ago. He wrapped his strong arms around you once you were dressed and both cleaned, bringing the covers around both of your bodies before kissing your forehead, and drifting off to sleep, holding you possessively against him.

This night didn't go as you planned, but you did not regret a thing.

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[luimagines]

He Realizes That You Like Him Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Time, Wild and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Time

He realized that you liked him faster than he’s ever going to tell you to your face.

Time knew that he was attractive to an extent. It’s not as if he hasn’t had people interesting in him. He just wasn’t interested in them.

But he’s had enough experience to see the signs.

Naturally, he wanted to write it off at first, thinking that perhaps he was just seeing things. However, there’s only so many times that he’s willing to brush things off as coincidences. 

Time could see your soft blushes, the way you glanced his way when you thought he wouldn’t notice. He noticed how you seemed a little nervous around him but still wanted to be nearby. You paid more attention to him than the others. You took into account his needs and wants and tried everything in your power to make this whole ordeal easier for him.

He could see it all.

But it was really when you admitted, albeit absentmindedly, that he was your favorite of the group that he felt as if he could whole heartedly close the case. There was no more room for doubt after that.

He’d have to admit, he felt a little better about himself in that moment. He even cheekily teased by getting close to your personal space. You held your breath as you waited to see what he’d so next. Your poor heart was beating so hard he could see the faint thump on your chest.

He grinned and smiled at you, leaving you there to gather your wits.

If Time was being honest, he felt like a dumb struck idiot. The amount of sheer will power that it took to not break out in a grin and start giggling like a fool was more than he thought he was capable of.

You were, thankfully, none the wiser, even when you chased after him, demanding he explain himself to you.

But what could he say? It’s not as if he could have put everything on the table and pour out his soul then and there. The others were still present and he knew that were never going to let him live it down if he did that. Besides, he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

You were simply irresistible, if a little too easy to tease.

But you liked him.

You liked him.

Whenever Time has to think about it, he has to fight off a boyish smile from your face. He should be better than this. He’s an adult. It shouldn’t make him dissolve into a giggly, giddy teenager all over again.

But it is an incredibly lovely thought, isn’t it?

He sighs to himself all over again as he thinks about you.

Incredibly lovely, indeed.

Wild

Wild could be a bit dense at times but he was still smarter than most people gave him credit for.

He knew... that you acted different around him but he would be the first to admit that he couldn’t figure out why. You seemed to get along with everyone. And don’t get him wrong, you both got along well as well, but there were times when you couldn’t quite meet him in the eye or seemed to be nervous when he got too close to you despite the fact that he wasn’t doing anything.... Unless he was.

But you would have said something to him, right? You both virtually hung off of each other at times, so he can’t see the connection or what makes some different than others.

There was a moment where he had remembered that your favorite food and you looked to be having a bad day. Now Wild was never good with words, but he hoped that a good meal of something you liked would help turn it around.

So he made the meal and gave it to you. It seemed to do the trick and Wild was happy to leave it at that.

But then you came to him with a shy expression and a blush on your face the next day.

Admittedly, it had taken his breath away. It was so incredibly soft. So tender. Wild had to fight himself to stay neutral and keep his hands to himself this time around.

He smiles at you and he thinks he sees your soft blush grow darker. “Hey. What’s up?”

It takes a beat for you to build up the courage to say what you wanted to say, but that’s ok, Wild thinks. He’s willing to wait for as long as you need him too. You cough and scratch your cheek. Wild notices that you keep one of your hands behind your back. “I... came to say thank you... For yesterday. You didn’t have to do that.”

Wild smiles brighter. How cute. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad you felt better afterwards.”

“Yeah...” You agree quietly. “I did... um.. Here... I wanted to give to you...”

You hold out a flower.

Wild’s heart get stuck in his throat. He recognizes this flower.

A blue nightshade.

Where did you even find this?

Recognition triggers at the back of his head to the time when he brought a blue nightshade to Wabbin at Lover’s Pond. He told you that story. Had you remembered it? 

Wild takes the flower between two of his fingers, studying it with quiet awe. You grin and are quick to make your get away. “Anyway! That’ll be all. I lo- appreciate everything you do! Ok bye!”

Wild stares after you silently, wondering when exactly his heart started beating out of his chest.

Does... does he thinks this means what he thinks it means?

Hyrule

Hyrule knew that he liked you for a while now. Your charm, your grace, your wit, your sass- It was all very attractive to him.

But that being said, he knew he wasn’t exactly a catch. There were plenty of reason that he could think of for you to choose literally any other person. 

It was just a fact, so he didn’t want it to bother him too much. He was still happy with your friendship and you were an awesome person through and through.

That being said, every doubt in the existence of doubts would circle around his head whenever he thought about telling you how he felt. It could never be that easy though, could it?

He was never going to pick up any hint you could have thrown at him. He was never going to pick on anything subtle or small that you could have thought of to try and show that you would have reciprocated his feelings. 

It would take something huge.

It would take something obvious.

It would take something that he wouldn’t be able to deny no matter what was thrown at his face.

“Hyrule.” You said softly. You had taken him aside from the group for a moment with soft blush to your face and an nervous expression. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Hyrule stood at attention, wondering what ti could have been that had you so nervous to tell him. It must be important. you looked ready to back out any minute. He hopes you wouldn’t. Hyrule wanted you to come to him with whatever would bother you.

“What is it?” He pressed softly, wanting to show his interest in what you were saying.

You stalled, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you thought about what you wanted to say. The silence was deafening. Hyrule had to stop himself rom copying your nervous movement.

“I like you.”

He stills. Did he hear you correctly?

You don’t want t wait for him to twist your words into something easier to digest. “Like... a lot. I like you a lot.”

Hyrule’s still processing your words when you take a step forward and kiss his cheek. His entire mind shuts down.

“A lot, a lot.” You clarify. “You don’t have to answer right now, ok? Just... think about it?”

You almost say, ’think about me’, but that might a bit too much for the young hero to handle right now.

You clear your throat, blushing brightly at your forwardness. “I’ll... that’s all.”

You run away.

A beat passes and Hyrule explodes into a blush now that you’re out of sight. His hands come up to cover his face as he sinks down to his knees.

There’s denying that. He couldn’t even if he tried.