#how my music tastes make my stories grow

[artemisdesari-blog]

PARANOiD DJ - 'We're Sure To Drown (Husk's Tale)' feat. Cycoriot (Hazbin...

And yet more Careless To Let It Fall music posting! This is another one that I listen to so that I can get into the Dooku headspace, although mostly the mid war Dooku and Obi-Wan conversation headspaces. It’s pretty obvious when you listen to it and hear how despairing Husk is of his circumstances and his insistence that he can’t be saved and I really feel that for Dooku to a degree. This song was actually one of my earliest themes for the story as a whole, beyond Powerless obviously, and so I’ve listened to it quite a lot. It’s definitely a favourite to listen to when I’m writing this one

[nehi-soda]

Push Your Luck -

Jackson!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: You loved lying with Joel and listening to his music, but tonight, your need for him was impossible to ignore. So you decided to push—just a little. Maybe tonight, you would be lucky.

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: established relationship but reader’s first sexual encounter with Joel, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected P in V sex, pulling out method as a form of contraception (be safe, don't be like them), descriptions of arousal and masturbation, fluff, smut, general filth, dirty talk, grumpy!joel, a dash of soft!joel, jackson!joel, cum, saliva, pet names (honey, baby, darlin'). No use of Y/N. Mood board is for aesthetics only; the reader's features aren't specified.

A/N: This was inspired by these images by @elliespuns, which have been playing on my mind and making me feral. Enjoy!

Joel's room was warm, the gentle crackle of his old records filling the quiet space with the soft hum of Johnny Cash. You were both sprawled on his bed like usual, your right leg resting over his rough jeans, a comfortable mess of limbs. The quiet between you wasn’t awkward—just the kind of stillness that comes after the world outside has been shut out for the night.

Joel had one arm tucked under his head, his other hand resting on the curve of your hip. His thumb absentmindedly traced lazy circles on your skin. But what he didn’t know—what he was completely unaware of—was that those small, soft touches were driving you insane. Each pass of his thumb sent ripples of heat straight to your core, making it impossible to think about anything other than how badly you wanted him.

Every time his skin grazed yours, your body responded, a subtle shift of your hips, a quiet shudder in your breath. The warmth of him pressed against you, the solid weight of his body beside yours—it only made the ache between your legs grow sharper.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to move, to press yourself against him, to grind your hips just enough to get some relief. You wondered if he could feel the heat rolling off your body, the throbbing need emanating from between your thighs.

His gaze was distant, fixed somewhere on the ceiling, lost in thoughts you couldn’t quite reach. There was always that slight hesitation in him, a part of him that held back, even when you were this close.

You shifted slightly, turning toward him, your fingers playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt. Joel’s breath hitched, and you noticed how his muscles tightened under your touch.

Without saying anything, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of his jaw. His stubble brushed your lips, rough and familiar. He closed his eyes as if surrendering to the moment, even if just for a second.

“Joel,��� you whispered against his skin, the sound of his name more of a comfort than a question. Your lips moved lower, trailing a path down his neck, slow and deliberate, feeling his pulse beneath your mouth. He exhaled, a sound caught between a sigh and a groan, his hands resting on your hips as if he was trying to hold himself back, trying to keep some semblance of control.

His shirt was already half undone, so you pushed it open the rest of the way, revealing his thickly tufted chest. He was broad, built from years of hard work and survival, but there was a softness there, too, a gentle curve to his belly that you adored. His skin was smooth but scattered with old scars and faint marks, each one telling a different story of a life lived in a world that hadn’t been kind.

Your lips found the base of his throat again, lingering there for a moment before you started your descent. You trailed tender kisses down his chest like drops of rain rolling down weathered stone. 

“What are you doin’?” He asked, almost sounding annoyed.

You didn’t answer, instead you dragged your tongue across his pec, feeling the way his breath caught as you moved lower, tasting the salt on his skin. His chest rose and fell beneath your lips. He tensed as you kissed down to his belly. You nipped at the flesh there, teasing him, hearing the low growl that rumbled up from his throat, a warning or maybe an invitation.

Your hands gripped his sides as you made your way down, slow and purposeful, your lips grazing the faint trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. The heat radiating from his body was intense, pulling you in. His scent was raw and earthy, a mix of leather and something so uniquely Joel —it was all so intoxicating.

You’d never gotten past this point without him tugging you back, always stopping you before things could go any further. He was the one who kept that line drawn—held it tight. 

When you reached the top of his jeans, you slid off the edge of the bed to settle between his legs, your bare knees sinking onto the rug beneath you. Your lips pressed to the spot just above where the denim began, breathing him in more.

His cock already strained against the fabric of his jeans, the outline thick and urgent, demanding attention. 

It would be rude not to oblige.

You unbuckled his belt slowly and undid his jeans, your fingers brushing against him as you pulled back the fabric. He let out a deep breath as you ran your hand over him, feeling the heat, the need that he was trying so hard to hold back. “Relax,” you murmured, freeing his cock out of the waistband of his boxers. “Let me take care of you.”

Your hands gripped his thighs as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his cock. He groaned, his hand coming to tangle in your hair, not pulling, just holding, as if he wasn’t sure if he should let you continue. “Baby, you don’t have to…” Joel’s voice was rough, strained with the effort of keeping himself in check, but you could hear the desperation in it, the way his words trailed off as you licked a slow, teasing line up the length of him, tasting him. You looked up, meeting his gaze as you took him into your mouth. His hazel eyes darkened as you started to move, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive underside before taking him deeper. Stop being so nice, you wanted to say to him.

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, his head falling back as you set a steady rhythm, your hot mouth working him over with a practised ease that had him groaning, his hips jerking up involuntarily. You loved the way he responded to you, the way his body betrayed the control he tried so hard to maintain, the way he was falling apart under your touch.

You took your time. You wanted him to feel good. The soft clink of his belt was a monotonous beat to your movements. Joel’s fingers clung onto your hair, sending pleasant tingles to your scalp, his grip tightening as you increased the pace, taking him deeper, feeling him grow harder in your mouth. His moans filled the room, his voice a low, desperate sound that made you so wet. You could feel him getting close, his body trembling as he fought to hold back. “Shit,” he gasped, trying to pull back, but you didn’t let him. You wanted to give this to him, to let him lose himself in the pleasure, to show him that with you, he didn’t have to be in control all the time.

He was big, bigger than you were used to. Your eyes stung, tears blurring your vision as you fought to take him deeper, every inch of him filling your mouth so well. It was intense, and the mess only made it better— you could feel the sloppy trail of your saliva running down his shaft, gathering around your fingers as they gripped what your mouth couldn’t take, desperate to keep up with the size and the pace.

A mixture of your spit and his precum pooled at his base, slick and messy, dripping down onto his jeans. You think he liked seeing you like this, eyes watering, lips stretched around him, struggling to take all of him in. The way his cock throbbed told you as much, each twitch between your lips as you hollowed your cheeks, his size pressing against the back of your throat.

“Yeah, filthy little mouth... takin’ it all like that,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

And there it was.You knew he couldn’t be a gentleman with you all the time.

Your jaw ached, your throat tightened, and you could feel your body rebelling, but the thrill of it kept you going, pushing you to take more, to make him feel every desperate, hungry inch of your mouth. You took him as far as your body would allow until you were gagging and forced to draw back, spluttering for air.

His cock glistened, throbbing in your hand as you stroked him slowly, dragging out every second of his pleasure.

“Christ... you are a filthy thing, aren’t ya,” he rasped, his accent thick as the words rolled off his tongue. 

The way he looked at you like you were the most depraved, beautiful sight he’d ever seen sent a wave of heat straight to your aching pussy. Fuck he was so handsome. You could feel yourself dripping, your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking through the fabric of your panties, desperate for any sort of relief.

You smiled up at him, lips still wet and swollen from where you’d had him, your eyes gleaming. 

The way you looked—sweet, sinful, shameless— made something flash in his eyes and his cock twitch in your hand.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that,” he muttered, voice low and rough, the warning in his tone almost lost in the sheer need coursing through him. But you didn’t back down, didn’t look away, just smiled wider, eyes locked on his, waiting to see how far he’d let you push him before he broke.

“What, you like suckin’ cock or somethin'?” 

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, licking your lips as you held his gaze, your hand still lazily stroking his length.

“Only yours,” you whispered, your voice husky as your thumb swirled around the tip of his cock again, collecting more of that wetness. You leaned in, letting your breath ghost over him, close enough that he could feel the heat of your mouth, but just out of reach, playing with him, making him wait for it.

The low groan that rumbled from his chest told you everything. His grip in your hair tightened, that roughness in him rising up again.

“Only mine,” he laughed, half under his breath, letting his head fall back against the bed. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned, hips jerking forward, pushing his cock closer to your waiting lips, telling you he didn’t want you to stop. Not now. Not ever.

Your lips parted, and you took him in again, slow and deep, letting him feel just how much you wanted him. Your hands gripped his thighs, fingers digging into the hard muscle, anchoring yourself as you moved faster.

His hips moved with you now, fucking your mouth with deep thrusts, each one bringing him closer to that sweet release you both craved.

You could feel him losing it, his body taut, every muscle straining as his cock pulsed harder against your tongue. He was close—so fucking close.

You stood up and hiked up your dress, the fabric bunching at your hips as you climbed on top of him. Your knees sank into the mattress on either side of his broad body. He barely had time to catch his breath before your hands were on his chest, and you were grinding down against him, your soaked panties brushing against the hard length of him.

Joel’s eyes widened just a fraction, that flicker of surprise quickly replaced by raw need as he felt your heat. His hands instinctively came up to grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh, urging you on. You didn’t waste any time—your hand slipped between your legs, pulling your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him, wet and ready.

You lined him up, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance, teasing, torturing him for a moment before you sank down onto him in one quick motion. The stretch was immediate and intense as he filled you completely, every thick inch of him sliding deep inside you. Your breath hitched, a low moan escaping your lips as your walls clenched around him, taking him in until there was nothing left to take.

“Goddamn, honey,” Joel groaned, voice strained as he felt you squeeze him. His head tipped back, jaw clenched. 

You didn’t give yourself a chance to adjust—you started moving, rolling your hips, grinding down on him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You braced your hands on his chest, fucking him harder, faster with everything you had. His cock pulsed inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every movement, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned, head falling back as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel rasped, a hand bunching your dress, his other gripping your ass now, pulling you down harder onto him, guiding you, urging you to take it harder. His hips bucked up to meet your movements, fucking into you from below.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” you whispered, voice low, teasing, grinding your hips against him slowly, making sure he felt every needy inch of you, how wet you were for him. “You love being deep inside my pussy, Joel… don’t pretend otherwise.”

He groaned, fingers digging into your hips, his breath coming out ragged, but he couldn’t muster a response.

“You like watching me take it all, don’t you?” you continued, leaning down so your lips hovered just above his, your breath hot against his skin. “Seeing how fucking desperate I am for your cock. You feel that?”

A deep growl rumbled in his chest. “Fuck… I feel it,” he strained, “Keep talkin' like that and I ain’t gonna last, darlin’.”

You smiled wickedly, rolling your hips in that slow, teasing rhythm, feeling every inch of him stretch you, fill you up in a way that made your whole body tremble. The heat between your thighs was intense, a clawing, pulsing ache that begged for more. You moaned, the sound low and breathless, your hands gripping his chest for balance as you rocked your hips again, the friction of your clit rubbing against the roughen hair at the base of his cock, sending shocks of pure bliss through your whole body.

“God, you feel so fucking good inside me, Joel,” you moaned. Every movement had you teetering on the edge, the way his cock brushed against that spot deep inside that made your legs shake. 

“Oh, fuck!” Your voice broke, shaking as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling and breathless. Your hands clung to his chest and flannel for support as you rode out the aftershocks, your thighs quivering around him, your release coating his cock as you ground down on him, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

Joel groaned, clearly on the edge himself, his cock throbbing as you tightened around him, making it harder for him to hold on. His breath came in ragged bursts.

“Shit—gotta pull out,” he growled, pulling out his cock.

His grip tightened as he lifted you just enough, sliding out of you, his cock twitching desperately. The sudden emptiness left you still aching with need, but you watched as he grabbed himself, stroking fast, desperate, along his thick shaft.

He moaned, deep and guttural, as he came hard, hot ropes of cum spilling across his hairy stomach. His chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths as the last of his release dripped from the head of his cock on to the mess he’d made of himself.

“See, wasn’t so bad, was it, Joel?” you teased, your voice full of satisfaction.

“Don’t push your luck,” he grumbled.

divider credit to @saradika-graphics

[latin5mamii]

Mall date- Jude Bellingham

Genre: fluff;

Summary: A mall date with your boyfriend is more tiring than he expects...

Author's note: cute bf alert!!

You and your boyfriend loved going shopping together, and what you loved the most was the trip to get to the mall, especially if it’s a long drive.

He loves to drive and talk about anything with you,listening to music and singing along, even if he’s not a professional singer,thank god.

You settle into the passenger seat of Jude's car, the anticipation of the day ahead adding a sparkle to your eyes. The radio plays softly in the background, blending with the soothing hum of the engine as Jude navigates through traffic.

"You know," Jude starts with a playful smirk, "I still can't believe you listen to this stuff. Do you secretly enjoy torturing me?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "I just like what I like. And besides, your taste in music isn't exactly cutting-edge either."

He chuckles, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. "Fair point. But at least my singing isn't as bad as yours."

"Oh, please," you retort, feigning offense. "I'm a hidden talent waiting to be discovered."

Jude lets out a dramatic groan. "Don't quit your day job, love."

The banter continues as the journey progresses, punctuated by shared stories and easy silences that speak volumes about your comfort together. You steal glances at him when he's focused on the road, admiring the way his features are softened by the sunlight streaming through the window.

When you reach the mall, Jude parks the car with a flourish, flashing you a grin before opening your door with exaggerated gallantry. "My lady," he quips, offering his arm.

"You're such a dork," you laugh, linking your arm with his as you walk into the bustling mall.

Inside, you indulge in leisurely shopping, Jude eagerly helping you pick out clothes and occasionally holding up questionable items for your opinion. "What do you think?" he asks, modeling an outrageously patterned shirt.

"It's... bold," you reply diplomatically, struggling to stifle a giggle.

He throws it back on the rack with a mock sigh. "Guess I'll stick to football jerseys."

You continue browsing, occasionally getting stopped by fans who recognize Jude. He graciously poses for photos and engages in light-hearted conversation, his charisma shining through as he thanks them for their support.

As you explore the mall, Jude's stomach starts to growl. "I'm famished," he declares dramatically, checking his watch with feigned surprise. "How long have we been shopping?"

"Not long enough for you to starve," you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

"I'm a growing lad," he insists with a wink. "I need sustenance."

You find a cozy cafe where you settle into a corner booth, sharing a hearty meal and swapping stories about your day. Jude delights in ordering an indulgent dessert, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a towering sundae topped with whipped cream and sprinkles.

"You're going to regret that later," you warn, amused by his childlike excitement.

"Nonsense," he replies with mock indignation, digging into the dessert with gusto. "I have a bottomless pit for a stomach."

You laugh at Jude's antics, shaking your head affectionately as he continues to devour the ice cream with unabashed enthusiasm. He insists on finishing every last bite, occasionally getting a dollop of whipped cream on his nose or chin, which only adds to your amusement.

"You're making a mess," you tease, handing him another napkin to wipe his face.

"I can't help it," he replies with a sheepish grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ice cream brings out my inner child."

"I can see that," you say, chuckling softly. "But you're my favorite child, so it's okay."

He mock-gasps in mock-offense, dramatically clutching his heart. "I'm honored to hold such a prestigious title."

After the snack break you literally find your boyfriend almost falling asleep on his feet waiting for you to get out of a shop.

“You literally spend hours running all over a football field and now you’re almost falling asleep, are you serious?”

“Shopping with you is tiring,more than a football match”

He says stroking your head and bringing it close to his shoulder. You can't do anything but wrap an arm around his waist and hold him tightly to you.

[nyctoaerah]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Who would've known that the man you spent a night with was the very same man that you're planning to kill? It was a cruel twist of fate, cause as you spent more time with him, you found yourself growing attached-inlove even. But, you ended up knowing the truth about suguru’s death, and the thirst for justice and redemption for Suguru consumed you. The pursuit of absolution drove you to consider any means necessary, even if it meant risking your own well-being, your sanity, your very essence. You were willing to sacrifice everything just to obtain the revenge you so desperately craved, even going as far as to ignore your feelings for Satoru. After all, it doesn't really matter, because Gojo Satoru was yours, he was yours to play with, he was yours to manipulate, and yours to kill, and he’s not complaining about it.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: explicit smut, dub-con (kinda since they’re drunk) overstimulation, drunk sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), dirty talk, nasty shit all that. Virginity loss.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Op! Assassin! Suguru's adopted daughter! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This story is the revamped version of my previous fic “Devil in Disguise” it has the same plot, but this one just has a better story flow in my point of view;) also available in Wattpad and Quotev! Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated! I already posted this, but this time, i extended it and actually posted the full smut;33 Also, random fact; Gojo’s fingers are canonically 6 inches;)

╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Next chapter

YOU HAD SOUGHT REFUGE in the confines of a random club, craving the numbness that alcohol promised.

You were hoping that the pulsating music vibrating through your bones and swirling burn of alcohol would drown out the  hollow emptiness you were feeling, you wanted to push all of your thoughts aside—to forget about Suguru’s death.

Just that, all you wanted was to drink and feel the buzz.

So how did you find yourself in this compromising position, your body entwined with a random man whose name you didn’t even knew?

How did you end up on his lap, on his bed, making out with him?

The kiss was feverish, your tongue sliding sensually against his, the taste of his mouth was reminiscent of the tangy sweetness of freshly ripened strawberries, yet there’s also this faint tang of alcohol, a flavor lingering from his previous indulgence, perhaps.

A needy whine escaped your lips as your hips undulated against his, seeking greater friction.

“So impatient...” He mumbled as one of his hands gripped your hip to keep you in place, while the other hiked the fabric of your dress up to your waist, exposing your bare skin to his heated touch.

“Can i?”

You whispered, your voice barely audible in the dimly lit room. His breath hitched as your fingers grazed the silk blindfold covering his eyes. 

“Do as you please pretty girl. I’m all yours.”

You hooked your fingers beneath the bandages and slowly, reverently, lifted it away, revealing eyes half-lidded and swimming with lust.

Long, white lush lashes framed irises the deep, captivating blue of the ocean. Your breath caught in your throat—he looked so exquisitely, devastatingly beautiful without the concealing fabric—He was already pretty with the blindfold on, but gods was he smokin’ hot without it—You’re not sure if you’re just exaggerating things, but fuck, did he looked ethereal.

His snow-white hair tumbled down to veil his face in a curtain, softening the sharp spiky hairstyle he had when he was wearing a blindfold.

You bit your lip, watching as the rounded bump just under the skin in the front of his throat bobs ever so slightly at your intense gaze. A slight flush heats up on his skin, and you touched it, pressing the pads of your fingers on his skin.

You scarcely had a moment to bask in the sight before he took the discarded blindfold from your hand and let it fall to the floor, forgotten.

His mouth explored the sensitive column of your neck, tongue tracing lazy, meandering paths.

You arched into his touch slightly, wanting for more contact, craving the delicious friction that might ease the aching tension coiled low in your belly.

“You sure that this is what you want princess?” His silky baritone caressed your ear as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your shoulders.

“I don’t wanna take advantage of you, not when you’re drunk.”

“Mhm.. m’ sure.”

Though the drink had clouded your mind, beneath the shallows of intoxication stirred a deeper craving—something you never felt before, you’re sure that you wanted him.

“I’m not drunk.”

His brows arched in doubt as his hand glides down your spine with practiced care, finding the clasp that holds your dress in place, the clasp yields to his deft fingers, baring your flesh to his exploring gaze.

“Your words say yea, angel, but i don’t want no dubious consent. I want full consent.” 

“No, S’ not dubious, you have my full consent.” you murmur, trailing your hands along his neck, tracing the pulsing vein in it before your hands dipped down and slipped beneath the hem of his shirt. Your fingers trace slow circles over his taut abs, feeling the contours of hard muscle and flush skin.    

His body was warm, and quite nice, comforting even.

He shivers at your delicate touch—which you found to be quite cute.

You found his words weird, however—It contrasts with his actions, that’s for sure.

“I want you, okay?” you breathed on his ear, eliciting a visible response upon his flesh as shivers caressed his form. He swallowed with effort, aroused yet wary, cognizant of the libations which dulled your inhibitions as his own.

Satoru was in no means a person who likes alcohol, he hates it, infact, however, he ended up drinking, just in hopes to forget about Suguru.

Very much like you so.

But he didn’t really expected that he would end up having a woman on his lap, not that he’s complaining, ofcourse. You’re quite beautiful after all.

“Hey...It’s still dubious, can be counted as non-consensual too. Cause you’re drunk. I don’t wanna take advantage of you, okay?” He said.

You fixated your gaze on him, a brief moment of silent observation passing between you. His movements, though tinged with a subtle languor, was filled with restraint, that surpassed your own faltering self-control.

“Nope.”

you insist softly.

“I’m not drunk.”

His eyes smolder as he considers your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“Your speech is slurred.”

“Nope, S’just an effect from you,” You replied with a lopsided grin.

“You take my breath away.” You mumbled, prompting him to blink owlishly down at you.

“Random as fuck.” He chuckled.

“But, i’ll take it. Just tell me to stop and i’ll stop, yeah?”

Your heart fluttered rapidly at his words, and a faint blush crept onto your cheeks as you swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly felt too tight, too dry.

After all, You hadn’t expected such considerate behavior after everything, such genteel conduct took you aback.

“Safeword?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.

“hm.. Strawberry?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“Wait...” you say, craving the taste of his name on your tongue, “I still don’t know your name”

His brow lifts in amusement.

“Would you scream it if i were to tell you?”

You shivered as his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck His lips hovered so tantalizingly close that you could almost feel his ghostly touch against your skin, tempting you to lean into it.

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave any marks, unless you want me to..?”  His voice was velvety smooth, laced with a hint of lust, causing a flutter in the pit of your stomach.

“Do you want me to?” He murmurs, slowly withdrawing his touch from your skin.

You hesitantly lift your shoulders in response, shrugging.

“Speak, angel, use your words.”

“I’m fine with anything,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

A pleasant hum escaped him. “Good girl.”

You looked at him, pupils dilating slightly.

“You never answered my question though. What’s your name?” you uttered softly, your fingertips caressing the contours of his abdominal musculature in delicate strokes, tracing upwards towards his pectorals. As your hands explored the topography of his torso, drawing sensual patterns across his flesh, his breathing became heavier. He let out a hum of approval, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of his garment and lifting it swiftly over his head in one fluid motion and discarding his shirt on the ground.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, your eyes instinctively drawn to the pale line bisecting his torso. The scar was long, yet its texture intrigued you. How did he got it, you wondered.  The scar was long, begining from his throat towards his lower abdomen.

It fascinated you.

You swallowed thickly.

“Can i touch it...?” 

“Do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”

Your fingers drifted slowly along its length.

“Satoru,”

“My name is Satoru.” he uttered the name, and for some reasons, each syllable was laced with a familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory, muddling your thoughts with a sense of déjà vu.

But you were too loss in the moment, not even able to think clearly, thus, you were oblivious to the fact that...

He’s the person that you’re planning to assassinate.

“That’s a pretty name,” you breathed, your pulse quickening at his caress.

“I’m pretty sure yours is pretty too.” he replied with a soft smile, his blue eyes staring intensely at yours as his thumb swept slowly along your lower lip, parting them like the velvet petals of a rose. An intoxicating shiver ran through your body at his delicate touch.

“[Name],” You mumble and he sighs.

“Sounds like a good name to groan about.”

He murmured and lifted you off him and lied you amongst the silken pillows, your [H/c] tresses fanned out, forming a vivid halo around your flushed features. His eyes lingered over your form, his tongue swiping on  his lower lip to moisten them.

“Alright, Just say the safeword, and i’ll stop, yeah?” He says, earning a nod from you.

“Speak.”

“M-mnh.. yes”

“Good girl.” He praised softly.

“I’ll do all the work, yeah? Just lay down there like a good girl n’ let me please you.”

Slowly, his lips brushed the skin of your neck, eliciting a sigh from you. his fingertips traced your spine down to the clasp of your bra, and a quiet flick of experient fingers released the barrier, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful.” He complimented.

His fingertips leisurely caress delicate circles around your nipples, coaxing a delicious ache of pleasure to ignite. He lavishes attentions on one nipple, drawing it into his mouth while his nimble digits continue their expert ministrations on its twin, evoking an unabashed moan to escape your quivering lips.

He lets go off your nipples with a pop.

Starting at the base of your sternum, he planted slow, sensuous kisses, inching ever lower towards regions still untouched. When he reached your stomach, he placed a gentle kiss on your belly button.

Moving away from the bed with graceful precision, he knelt before your quivering form and slid greedy hands along your thighs, grasping your hips to pull you on the edge of the bed, so that his head was completely positioned between your legs. A wanton moan escaped you then as he lifted one leg high, draping it over his broad shoulder.

“Relax, f’me pretty girl.” He said, after noticing how tense your body is.

You watched, enamoured as he pressed a line of searing kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh—he looked so pretty while doing that.

He hummed as he saw the dampness in your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckled breathily.

“All we did was kiss, n’ you’re already soakin’ wet.”

His lips traced delicate patterns along your thigh, each fleeting caress like liquid fire on your fevered skin.

Fuck, who would’ve known that he’ll turn you in a whining mess with just his kisses?

Humiliation blooms in your throat as you realized how pathetic you are right now, You clasped a hand over your flushed visage, heart pounding erratically against your ribs.

Satoru seemed displeased with that though.

“Hey, none of ‘that” He scolds.

“Lemme see your pretty face.”

You took a ragged breath, though anticipation swirled within you, nervousness lingered at your edges. But then, this is what you wanted isn’t it?

“I-i don’t wanna.” 

He scoffs and shifted his weight, pressing you further into the pillows.

“Do it.” He says.

You shook your head and he sighs.

“If y’don’t take your hands off your face, i’ll tie you up n’ fuck you till you can’t walk.” 

“ S’ that what you want angel?”

“No..” You sighed, not wanting to get tied up, you slowly curled your fingers away from your flushed face.

“You’re so shameless...” You mumble.

“Yeah, no shame at all. Why would i be shameful of myself when I have a pretty lil’ thing like you under me? All soakin’ wet n’ pretty.”

“Besides... I know you like it anyways,” He mumbled.

Satoru’s tongue, hot and wet, darted out to leave a scorching trail against the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“Open your eyes n’ look at me, pretty.”

“I want you to look at me while i eat you out.”

This is so embarrassing and humiliating that it hurts, your throat constricts, his words makes you embarrassed, he was just so blunt, so shameless—he was all so sweet and using romantic words when you’re just kissing.

But fuck, did satoru changed once you gave him your consent, pressin’ you on the sheets like that and saying filthy words.

You reluctantly fluttered your lashes open to meet his stare, laying yourself bare as fingertips ghosted ever higher.

“See? That’s a good girl. Now just lie there princess, let me make you feel good.”

You felt yourself swallowing thickly as he hooked nimble fingers into the lacy edge of your undergarments, sliding the delicate fabric down your legs.

It was slow, agonizingly slow, too slow for your own liking.

Your body suddenly involuntarily jolted as a wave of his scorching breath caressed the intimate flesh between your legs.

“So pretty..” His words were a low murmur, infused with a hunger that made humiliation to bubble up your chest, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t... don’t stare,” you murmur back, feeling self conscious, flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks, your hips shifting involuntarily beneath his intense gaze.

“Don’t stare... S’ making me embarrassed.”

With a devilish smirk dancing on his lips, he gave another teasing lick on your thighs. Satoru wouldn’t lie, he wanted to bite your thigh so bad, sink his teeth on your plush thighs, and leave a mark, but he restrained himself from doing so.

“No, m’not staring love, just... studying, don’t be embarrassed” he murmured almost innocently, his words a stark contrast to the boldness of his actions.

“Besides... You’re so beautiful in here... You just can’t just expect me to not compliment it.” He says.

You shook your head. “It’s not that... It’s just.. i.. i haven’t done this before.” You mumble.

“Haven’t done oral before?” He questioned, watching as your face burned as you shook your head.

“I’m a virgin.” You confirmed.

His sapphire eyes widened at your confession and his throat constricts, adams apple bobbing in his throat.

The revelation caught him off guard, each breath he took feeling like a fleeting gasp of surprise. He had not expected this revelation, not from you. Your actions had spoken of confidence and skill, and, damn, you sure did like a seductress.

His hand twitched, the pads of his fingers pressing on your thighs slightly.

“No wonder you’re so shy...”

He pulled back slightly, a tinge of guilt creeping into his consciousness at the notion of overwhelming you. Aware that his dirty words may be foreign to your ears, he gazes upon you with a mixture of empathy and desire.

“We can stop this if you want.” he offers, his gaze intense and probing.

“Shit no.” you murmur.

“Don’t stop. I want you.” The words escape your lips in a breathy whisper, laden with lust, restraint flickers in his eyes, as he caught his lower lip on his teeth.

“If you say so. I have a thing for popping cherries anyways,” He says with a laugh. 

Your breath suddenly caught in your throat as his thumb glided teasingly over your clit.

A playful chuckle escaped his lips at your sensitivity, before he leaned in once again, his warm breath ghosting over your heated skin as he kissed your clit.

“Sensitive, are we?” he chuckles softly before dipping down to give your throbbing clit yet another teasing lick, releasing a desperate whimper from your parted lips.

His fingers gently spread apart your folds, his face inches away as his tongue teases your slit, the wet muscles licks the slick trail that has gathered on your pussy, eliciting soft whimpers from you as your body instinctively responds with a slight arching of your hips.

“aah.. hnngh, satoru”  You mewled.

“You taste so good... heavenly even.”

With another tantalizing lick, he savors the exquisite taste of your arousal. His hungry mouth then latches onto your pulsating clit, sucking on it gently. Moans escaped your parted lips as you clutch onto the sheets.

He devoured you as if starved, his hunger palpable in each expert lick and fervent suck, transforming you into a feast he couldn’t devour quickly enough—Your moans were like delicious music to his ears, and fuck, did it it make him hard. He whines, grinding against the edge of the bed, seeking friction.

“I can just eat you out everyday and not get tired of it...” he moaned shamelessly, his voice slightly muffled as your hips bucked involuntarily, a whimper of pleasure escaping your lips.

“Love your taste so much.”

Satoru’s tongue moved skillfully around your clit, softly brushing against it to send shivers down your spine. With deliberate movements, he gently licked it in distinct patterns, exploring your most sensitive spots.  

His fingers grip tightly onto your hip, while he eagerly indulges in pleasuring and sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing a titillating sensation that makes your inner muscles contract and a surge of euphoria creates a swirling sensation in your stomach.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, pretty girl?” satoru whispers, his words muffled by his persistent oral ministrations. As he continues to pleasure you with unwavering determination, the pleasure he evokes from within you cannot be contained, escaping your lips in the form of unrestrained moans. The pleasure becomes so overwhelming that it threatens to engulf your vision, as though a curtain of stars is poised to blind you from the outside world.  

“Fuck, Satoru, i-i’m.. haaah..” You panted, thighs shaking as your insides contracts, a tingling sensation radiating on your body.

“I know. C’mon. Cum for me, angel. Lemme taste you on my tongue,”

You let out a deep moan, succumbing to the intense climax as you cum hard. Radiating satisfaction, satoru hummed contentedly while skillfully lapping up every trace of your released essence.

“You taste like heaven itself, just like i thought...” he whispered, his voice filled with longing, as he withdrew from your pussy and stood up and pressed his lips against yours. The taste of your own cum lingered on his mouth, intoxicating and arousing, causing you to moan in pleasure before surrendering to his passionate kiss. 

As the two of you kissed, his touch ventured lower, his hand finding its way to your puffy clit again, rubbing it, prompting a chorus of moans from you.

Your breath hitched when you felt his middle finger probing your hole gathering your slick before slowly pushing inside.

“Breathe.” He whispers.

“Hngnh, Satoru.” You whined on his mouth as he added another, his fingers were so long and thick, filling you so deliciously. The sensation of his fingers stretching you from within was intense and slightly painful, yet somehow enjoyable in its own way. 

“You’re so tight, you gotta relax n’ let me in.”

You bit his tongue, causing him to let out a low moan.

“There..  you gotta adjust.. that’s it, good girl.” He murmurs, whispering sweet nothings into you.

Satoru’s cock throbbed painfully beneath his straining trousers, yet he focused solely on pleasuring you, expertly thrusting his fingers in and out of you. When he grazed upon a certain tender zone, an eyebrow arched knowingly as your riven flesh clenched tightly around his digits as he pulled away for a bit.

“Ahn.. hnn please,” You panted.

“Oh?” He purred slyly.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” He murmured, once more curling his finger upwards and pressing that spot within your pussy, drawing forth a lustrous moan as your arched your velvet back in pleasure.   

“You tightened around me, did i hit a good spot?”

“this is where you’re weak, isn’t it?” His digits thrust rhythmically into your inner sanctum, coaxing ever more ardent moans of euphoria from your lips.

“How cute.”

A molten pool of desire gathered low in your belly, waves of euphoria washing over your trembling frame.  

Satoru bit his lip as his hand slid stealthily down within his own constrained trousers, swiftly freeing his engorged member to pump smoothly within his curled fingers.

His thumb smeared the precum that was leaking on the tip, using it as a lube to slowly jerk off.

“Aahh... Fuck..” he moaned gutturally, his fingers, still buried deep within your moisture-slicked cunt, he withdrew his fingers sluggishly and raised it languidly to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste your essence.

“C’mere.” he says, sitting upright and patting his lap

His voice was ragged with want as he beckoned you closer. You rose from the rumpled bedsheets and moved to him, sitting on his lap, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed your naked form.

“Kiss me.” He commands.

You immediately kissed him, the taste of your essence still upon his mouth, and it made butterflies fluttering in your stomach. His cock pressed against your skin as he stroked himself.

“haah... Feel that princess? ’m so hard for you”

Breaking the kiss, you gazed down at satoru, drinking in his beauty as your fingers traced the lines of his chiselled abdomen, following each dip and swell. Your mouth followed the path of your hand, pressing feathery kisses along the scar that he had, revelling in each hitch of his breath and twitch of muscle beneath your ministrations. 

Your gaze then lingered on his cock, admiring its size and girth. The tip was flushed red with arousal, and it twitched at your gaze, you pushed his hand away from it.

He seemed to be surprised at that—yet didn’t make a move to stop you.

“Ah, Ah? Did i told you that you can touch me?” He teased.

You nipped on your lower lip, as you tentatively wrapped your hand around his shaft, marveling at its sheer thickness that challenged your grip.

“No... But i wanted to touch you.” You mumbled, You ache for deeper intimacy, craving the solace of flesh against flesh in your drunken haze. 

“Mmnh.. maybe if you’re really that desperate... Maybe i should just give it to you, hm?”

“Tell me what you want.” he says, his fingers entwining in your hair, tugging gently to lift your gaze to his. A moan escapes you.

“You,” you manage to breathe out, the craving evident in your eyes. His eyebrow quirks.

“Be specific.”  he murmurs, his tone commanding and seductive.

“I wanna please you too,” you confess, your words laced with need—all the shyness from before leaving you, only lust remains. He exhales heavily, releasing his hold on your hair.

“So eager to please aren’t you? Such a good girl.”

He hums.

“Go on. Suck me off, show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

As you followed his command, you delicately bent down and rested your head on his cock. Extending your tongue, you dragged the flat of your tongue and traced the vein that prominently bulged on the underside of his dick.

Your tongue slowly traced a path up his shaft, moving towards the tip. With anticipation, you opened your mouth to take him in, feeling a bit of discomfort as you adjusted to his size. It took some time for your jaw to accommodate the width of his girth as his tip brushed against the back of your throat. 

You looked only to see that he was only half way in, and shit, you just realized how much he’s gonna hurt your throat.

 “Ngh.. you gotta relax your throat if you want to take me in your mouth.” he moans, sensing your discomfort as you struggle not to gag. Following his instruction, you comply, feeling Satoru's sharp intake of breath as he nips his lip in pleasure.

Despite the sensation being pleasing, it's clear that he craves more.

“C’mon angel, take me deeper.” he urges softly, his fingers entangling on your [H/c] locks, his gaze fixated on your hollowed cheeks and watery eyes. The sight of your tears only serves to fuel his desire to push himself further into your mouth, relishing the idea of watching you Choke on him. The thought of you looking so enticing in that vulnerable state drives him to actually thrust himself deeper down your throat. 

Satoru thrusts upwards, causing your throat to constrict as you struggled to breathe. Tears ran down your cheeks and saliva dripped onto his shaft.

“Breathe through your nose.” He instructs.

“That’s it,” he uttered with a sensual groan, his eyes half-closed as he guided your head to move back and forth on his dick. He licked his lips, observing you as you found it difficult to deepthroat him.

He hummed contentedly, the room filled with nasty squelching sounds. He savored the feeling of your throat tightening around his cock like a vice.

Such a poor thing, he thought, feeling your fingers dig into his thighs.  He ran his fingers through your [H/c] tresses before slowly withdrawing from your mouth with an audible pop, a strand of viscous fluid on your lips cheeks flushed and eyes dewy.

“That’s enough, i don’t want you vomitting on my dick.”

Gingerly, he swept the disheveled locks from your face and captured your lips once more, not giving you a time to recover, humming as he tasted himself on you. When at last you broke for air, chests heaving in unison, he met your hooded gaze with a glint of intrigue.

“You suck at this.” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as his strong hands found your waist.

“M’ sorry,”  

You shuddered involuntarily as his fingers delicately traced the contours of your neck, eliciting a chill that radiated through your trembling form. Soft whimpers escaped your quivering lips.

“Shhh..” he cooed in a velvet tenor, his palm softly gliding along your side before his digits pressed deeply into the plush of your ass. A small gasp passed through your slightly parted mouth at the fervent sensation of his fingernails gingerly clawing your supple skin. 

“I know that y’wanna please me.”

“But there is no need to overexert yourself,” he said as if he wasn’t the one who practically shoved your face down on his dick.

“I enjoyed it,”

“D-did you?” you inquired.

“Fuck yes, your throat’s squeezin’ me so tight n’ it feels good.” 

A swelling sensation arose within your thorax as elation is in your throat, though an acute pain seized your esophagus. Your larynx felt inflamed and raw, as if scoured by sandpaper. But despite the troubles afflicting your throat, you had performed admirably based on his praise, you felt proud.

“Maybe i should reward you for bein’ so good?” he purrs, his hand sliding from your stomach down to your lower abdomen, a low hum escaping his lips as he plunges his fingers into your hole. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as he begins to curl his fingers inside you, pressing against your g-spot and stretching you again. As moments pass, he withdraws his fingers, your slick coating them entirely.

“I think you’re more than ready.”

“Let’s get you on top, yeah?” he says lifting your form to straddle his hard cock.

He reveled in the sight of you nestled against his towering frame, a delicate contrast to his strong physique. Each ragged gasp you drew in, every flush on your face, and the smudged remnants of makeup only served to enhance your allure in his eyes.

“C’mon, take me in.” he says, kissing your cheek. “Just hold onto me”

Your response was a subtle bite to your lower lip, a silent surrender as you obediently placed your trembling hand on his firm neck, burying your heated countenance in the sanctuary of his shoulder.

“Hm...”

He hoists you up slightly, his firm hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it towards the heat between your thighs. The tip of his arousal brushes against your clit, eliciting a fervent sigh as you inadvertently dig your nails into his muscular back.

“Ready?”

A soft whimper escapes your parted lips as he slowly eases into you, the initial entrance is a searing burn, it burns deliciously as he splits you open.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder, the searing sensation reverberating through you as his cock pressed against your cervix with a tantalizing ache. “Relax, let me in.” his whispered command brushed against your nape, his lips trailing kisses as his fingers drew deliberate circles upon your quivering skin.

“It’s... it's too much,” you gasped, the overwhelming fullness causing you to scrabble at his back, your nails digging into flesh as you felt the sting of tears welling in your eyes.

“T-too much, ‘Toru, please,” You writhe

“C’mon, You can handle it,” He remained motionless, allowing you the space to acclimate to the invasion, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he urged you to yield.

“Relax, pretty, let me in.” 

Your head swims with a dizzying blend of pleasure as you feel him deep inside you, his hand venturing downward to circle and massage your clit. Gradually, you begin to acclimate And he exhales in pleasure  as he revels in the tight clench of your walls around him, the exquisite sensation coiling through him.

 “Do you feel that?”

“You’re taking it so well,” he groans.

“It fits so perfectly well isn’t it? It’s like you were made for me.” he whispered.

“Alrighty, time to move okay ? Put your back into it.” he gripped your hips firmly, he guides your body to ebb and flow along his dick. 

“Up, down.”

You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan as you felt the heat of his rigid cock gliding inside of you . His hips bucked, setting a quickened pace that had your breath hitching in pure ecstasy. Your eyes fluttered shut as each powerful thrust hit that sweet spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

“‘Toru, ‘Toru” You whined his name.

 “Pl-please," you gasped, your voice laced with need, as you instinctively dug your nails into his muscular back, raking them down with a delicious sting.

“I need… I need you to… kiss me,” you managed to murmur. 

“You want me in your mouth too, hm?” He teased before pressing his lips against yours, your teeths clashing together.

“Fuckk, that’s it...”

His soft expletive escaped his lips as he reluctantly withdrew from the intoxicating embrace of your mouth. His hands slid down the curves of your waist, mesmerized by the sight of his cock moving rhythmically within you.

“Your lips taste like ambrosia,”  he murmured, his words accompanied by the clenching of your inner muscles around him.

Fuck, he was drunk in your sounds, drunk in the way you feel, you were just so heavenly.

“C’mon, cum. I know you want to.” he coaxed, a low moan escaping him as he felt your body shudder in ecstasy, tightening around him as you cum hard.

The sensation of your climax sent a jolt of pleasure through him, his own release building rapidly. His abdominal muscles clenched as he inhaled sharply, the intensity of the moment overwhelming him.

“Fuck.. can I... inside?”  he asked in a whimpery voice, seeking your permission in a breathless whisper. You, lost in a haze of pleasure, simply nodded in acquiescence. With a guttural groan, he emptied himself into you.

Even as he already released, his pace did not falter, fucking you as if you’re his little human fleshlight. His grip on your waist tightened as he deftly shifted your positions, swiftly flipping you over so that you were beneath him.

“Let’s go for another.”

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

Your respiration came in uneven gasps as your tongue lolled delicately from your mouth. Your visage was flushed a deep scarlet and a sheen of perspiration coated your form. Your gaze, though half-lidded with lust, remained trained attentively upon him. Situated backwards upon his lap, your legs were parted widely as he nestled his face against your scapular region. Your hands clung desperately to his  biceps.

One of his hands rested upon the slender column of your throat, while the other rests on your chest, playing with your nipples. His cock thrusts rhythmically into your inner sanctum the tip of his dick kissing your pretty little cervix, coaxing ever more ardent melodies of euphoria from your lips.

His hand slid down your body, a subtle pressure teasing the soft curve of your abdomen as he pressed against the small bulge on her abdomen.

“Haah... Fuck.. you feel me in there pretty? M’ so deep in you.”

He let out a low moan, his grip tightening around your hip as he intensified his rhythm.  

Satoru’s respiration was labored, eyelids weighed down as his lips caressed your shoulders delicately. Crimson marks peppered your skin where his mouth had wandered voraciously. Your back met his chest in a slow slide,  your skin kissing his.

The sound of heavy breathing, moans, and skin slapping against each other vibrated through the room.

Your thighs ached dully and muscles sore from prior exultations.

“mnhh.. ‘Toruu, please,” You mewled, squirming.

“M’ tired already, Please... S’ too much.”

You two have been going on it for some quite time now, how many times did he made you cum again? Was it six times? You can distinctly recall experiencing orgasm twice from his tongue, once from his fingers, and three times from his cock. The sensation of being stretched caused considerable discomfort, even though he took the time to prepare you, it still stung.

“Mnh.. my poor angel is tired, huh?” satoru uttered in a mellifluous tone, tracing the swirling contours of your auricle with the tip of his tongue before affixing an ardent kiss on the pulsing carotid beneath. 

“Don’t worry.” Satoru says.

“I’ll take care of you after this... So, just be a good girl and take it all, okay?”

Satoru had already become enraptured in the way you tasted and sounded, drunk on the melodic chorus of gasps and moans that spilled wantonly from you. Though sobriety had returned to claim his clarity of mind once more, for you intoxication still lingered and he knew it.

He wanted to stop, but how could he? You were squeezin’ and taking him so good and deep, and he just needed this release after the suguru incident after all.

He was having too much fun in splitting you in half after all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

AUTHORS NOTE:

I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS SJKSKSJS, fun fact; i’m an asexual virgin. It's so funny writing this HAHHAHAHA, i literally CACKLED when i was writing “pussy, cunt, cock,” AHHSHSHAH MY IMMATURITY COULD NEVER😭 I WOULD KMS IF I EVER ADDED BALLS.💀

[alexsoenomel]

About Love(Dean Winchester x Reader drabble)

Summary: You and Dean have a conversation about life before falling asleep.

Warnings: None

Note: I saw this kind of dialogue in Neil Gaiman's American Gods and since I'm trying to get back to writing I decided to write just that, no descriptors, just dialogue.

"Dean, what was your dream before becoming a hunter?"

"I've never really thought of that, why?"

"I've been thinking about my dead dream and started wondering about yours."

"And what was it?"

"I was young and lost, so I had a couple of things in mind and that would also change from time to time. From a psychologist to librarian, but one thing always stayed and that was I wanted to write books."

"You never told me you like to write."

"Used to. And you never told me about your dream."

"I never had time to think about that. My old man gave me a riffle before I even realized I could have a dream."

"That's impossible everyone has a dream."

"Dreaming wasn't a thing in our household, I guess."

"What about love? Family? Something you wanted to do when you were a kid."

"I was too busy taking care of Sam to think about my own needs and wants. But I wanted a family at one point when I got older that's for sure."

"Like kids?"

"Yeah, I told you about Lisa and Ben. I've experienced what it would be like to have a normal life and I really liked it, but the job never leaves you."

"I know. When I was a teenager I used to write stories every single day after school and I was convinced I would grow up to be a writer slash something because doing one job for the rest of my life sounded so boring and yet here we are."

"What kind of stories did you write?"

"Romance, lots and lots of romance."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, I was a lonely teenager obsessed with love and being in love. My parents used to tell me that I loved too much and guys I dated never appreciated that."

"That makes sense."

"How so? You appreciate the way I love and put the same amount of effort in this relationship."

"Yeah but it took time. I didn't really know what I was doing when we first got together. I knew your heart was made not to be broken, but I was still struggling not to hurt you. I knew underneath that badassery was someone gentle and kind."

"Hey, sue me but I still try."

"And I knew you needed time, especially since you're not really famous for communicating your feelings properly."

"Yeah, you do. You're the first person to NOT hurt me just because..."

"That's the last thing I wanna do and you know that."

"I do. You're also the first person that made me think about having kids with..."

"I know."

"I never told you I wanted kids."

"Last year when you thought you were pregnant I saw it on your face. You were so disappointed when you saw only one line."

"To be honest I was scared, but at the same time..."

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you still want it?"

"Yeah, I think about it all the time but hunting is not something you can just quit."

"I know. Maybe in another life we will find each other again, have boring jobs and a family."

"How many?"

"A boy and a girl."

"I don't think I'd be good at being a girl dad."

"Oh you'd be perfect. A little bit overprotective but she'd have you wrapped around her finger."

"Like her mom."

"And our son would admire you and would think his dad is a badass."

"I like the sound of that."

"Like I said, maybe in another life..."

"Also great music taste would run in the family if you don't count Sam."

"That's for sure."

[spooky-pomegranate]

Through The Door:

Captain Price x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Ghost doesn't trust you and when he hears you and Captain Price fighting in his office he stops to listen. But he hears and sees more than he ever expected.

It’s been ten days of this. Ten days of watching, following, and listening. And somehow it still hadn’t been enough time. Ghost still hadn’t caught you. But he knew he would. He just had to remain patient. He’d keep watching. You’d slip up eventually. He was sure of it.

Even if you did have everyone else fooled.

In just ten days, you had already made fast friends with Johnny. The two of you were always laughing and telling one another stupid jokes and stories.

The last thing you’d carried on about was music. You preferred old-school rock and roll. The Stones, The Who, The Beatles. But you liked classical too. You made fun of Soap for his favorite genre, cheery electropop. You called it music for “love-sick teenage girls” and teased him endlessly. He called you “a walking iPod shuffle” and said you were confused about your own taste. You playfully punched Johnny in the arm before you both laughed like hyenas.

It was like you were siblings, the way you constantly bantered and bickered. It set Ghost on edge. You both were so comfortable around each other. It was so familiar, so natural… It wasn’t right.

And Gaz, he wasn’t any better. You had asked him for additional training and on most days, Ghost found you two at the shooting range long after the recruits had left for dinner. At first, your conversations were shallow. In between firing rounds of high-caliber ammunition, you asked him about his life on base and how long he’d known Soap and Price. But the conversations eventually grew longer. And they grew deeper. Gaz told you about his family, his hometown, and his childhood. You told him about how difficult it was to leave the States and move to the UK on your own.

Ghost could tell that as the days were passing and as your conversations were growing more meaningful, the two of you were starting to trust one another more. And that frustrated him. Why couldn’t Gaz see what he saw in you?

He wondered if your skills were what threw the others off.

Ghost couldn’t deny that you were better than most of the other recruits. You were a natural at the shooting range. You picked up on techniques quickly and put them into practice almost flawlessly. And even though you pretended to be intimidated by it in the beginning you were especially good with a sniper rifle. You always asked the right questions about the winds, the terrain, and any potential bullet drop. And while Ghost found that suspicious, Gaz seemed to be amazed by it. Proud even. He joked with you about how quickly you could do math in your head and how that would come in handy if you were ever posted up in a sniper’s nest someday.

“Over my dead body,” Ghost had mumbled to himself as he watched you both from the shadows.

But you weren’t perfect. When Ghost did pull himself out of the base’s dark corners and did talk with you, you were always nervous. You spoke at breakneck speeds. Your sentences mushed together, like a quickly moving mudslide, totally out of control and unpredictable. You struggled to look him in the eyes. You fidgeted, stared at your shoes, and gave him any excuse you could to get away.

 “Sorry can’t chat, Johnny wants to train in the gym.”

 “I think I just heard Gaz call my name.”

 “Gotta go. Price needs me.”

And Price… you definitely had that man wrapped around your little finger. Or at least Ghost thought you did until one night when he heard you two fighting inside the Captain’s office.

“Price, why won’t you tell me what you and Laswell are planning for the raid?”

Your words had stopped Ghost in his tracks. He glanced down the empty hall to make sure no one was around before sinking to his knees and pressing his ear to the door of Price’s office.

“Come on, love we’ve been over this,” he heard the Captain answer.

“But I can help!”

Your voice was pleading. You were practically begging Price. But why did you care so much Ghost wondered?

“I want you to focus on training. You asked me to teach you to fight remember?”

“I know… but you also promised to let me take some of the weight off your shoulders too.”

“You’re too smart, you know that.”

“Price…” you whined the Captain’s name and Ghost rolled his eyes. He imagined that on the other side of the door, you were probably looking up at Price with doe eyes. Needy and wanton. God… you probably were pouting your lips too.

He could only hope that Price would see through you.

“I want you to be as prepared as you can be before then. I can handle this, I promise ya I’m fine. We’ve got more resources and men now. It’s not like before. We aren’t alone anymore. Ya trust me don’t you?”

Good man, Ghost thought to himself. Don’t give in to her so easily. As long as Price continued to keep his cards close to his chest maybe they’d all get through this in one piece.

“But what if he’s there? What if he has my briefcase there and he’s figured out how to use it? He’ll see you coming. Price what if this is a setup?” You were doing that thing where you spoke 100 miles an hour again, your words sloshing and sliding into one another.

“Laswell’s been surveilling the area. He hasn’t been there. Your briefcase isn’t there.”

“Price but what if-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Come here, love.”

Ghost heard the sound of a chair scrape and footsteps shuffle away from the door. He knew you were walking over to Price. He could practically see you standing in front of him in his mind.

Then you sighed.

“I’m tired, Price.” Your voice was softer. Ghost could barely hear you now. He tried to press even closer to the door. The metal was cold against his ear. “I know I asked for this… learning how to fight. But it’s harder than I thought it would be and…”

You stopped.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Your Lieutenant…”

Shit. Your voice was muffled.

Shit. He needed to hear this.

Ghost slowly reached for the door handle and carefully, he turned the knob. The door opened the smallest crack. He peered inside.

You were sitting across the room, straddled on Price’s lap. Your head was buried against his chest. The Captain’s hands rubbed against the back of your t-shirt in lazy circles.

“Ghost? What about him, sweetheart?”

At the sound of Price’s voice, you pulled your head from his chest.

“He hates me.”

Price stilled and his jaw clenched. Neither of you spoke. Ghost held his breath before looking to his left and right. Thankfully, the coast was still clear.

“He doesn’t trust you,” Price eventually said, breaking through the silence.

“That’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

You sighed loudly and moved to stand, but Price reached up and quickly pulled you back toward him by your hips.

“Don’t leave,” Price said, his voice low and firm. “I trust you.”

“Then why doesn’t he?”

Because I know there’s something else going on with you, Ghost thought to himself. Because I know there’s a secret you’re hiding.

“Because he doesn’t know you like I do.” Price replied, his hand moving up your spine to hold the back of your head. “He doesn’t know how smart you are. That you can build something from nothing. He doesn’t know that you’re a fighter, that you’ve been dealt a shite hand in life but you’ve always soldiered on.”

Price leaned forward and kissed you.

Ghost looked down at the floor. He should leave, he thought. He should go back to the barracks and sit behind his computer and look for dirt on you that way. It would be less awkward. He’d feel less strange.

But Ghost didn’t move. He couldn’t.

What if this was the moment you finally slipped? What if you said something? He needed to be more patient. He’d stay a little longer. If only for Gaz, for Johnny. If they got hurt because he missed something he’d never forgive himself.

He watched as Price leaned back, pulling away from your lips. A smile sprawled across his face.

“He doesn’t know how sweet you taste either, sweetheart.”

You laughed, running your own hands through Price’s short hair as the Captain dove into your neck.

“I mean it, love. If any of those boys got to taste you like I do, if they got to feel you like I do…” Price pulled back from your neck and looked you in the eye. “If they got to fuck you like I do… none of them would ever distrust you.”

“Price, that isn’t really reassuring. You’re just saying you trust me because we’ve fucked.”

Ghost’s grip tightened against the door knob. Was that what Price was saying? Was that really all you were to him? A plaything?

He opened the door another inch. He needed to see your face better. He had to know what this was between you and his Captain.

“Remember the first day I brought you here? And I took you to my room. And I showed you all my scars. Do you remember?”

Ghost watched as Price tugged on your hair. Your head tilted back toward the ceiling and the captain dove into your neck again, kissing you just below your ear.

“Yes,” you answered with heavily weighted breath.

“And do you remember how you kissed me? How you teased me before you slid your sweet little tongue into my mouth? Do you remember?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in affirmation.

“And do you remember how good it felt when my tongue was in between your legs? How it felt when my beard brushed against your thighs.”

Ghost felt his face grow hot. The scene in front of him made him feel like an intruder, a dirty and unwelcome voyeur. He knew he should leave.

But he couldn't make himself move.

He needed the truth.

He watched as one of Price’s hands left your hair and trailed slowly down your body. His fingers moved from your collarbone. Lower. Grazing your breast. Lower. Lingering over your stomach… Lower.

“Yesssss,” you whined as Price’s hand slid underneath the waistband of your pants and disappeared from Ghost’s view.

“And do you remember how hard you made me? Just by tasting you? Tell me you remember.”

You whimpered. It was a sound Ghost had never heard from you. Sweet. High-pitched. Soft.

Price’s shoulder moved up and down. His hand still plunged between your legs.

Ghost swallowed against a lump in his throat.

“I- fuckkkk,” you bucked your hips toward Price, “I remember.”

“And tell me you remember how I fucked you. When I first pushed inside you… how was it? Do you remember was I fast, like this?”

Ghost watched as Price moved his hand quicker. In and out. His right shoulder rose. Up and down. Faster, faster, and faster.

You yelped. The noise was loud and short. Your hands left Price’s hair and dug into his shoulders. You were clawing into him desperately. Falling apart with every second, every movement.

“No… no you weren’t fast,” your voice wavered as you answered.

“Good. Good girl. You remembered. Yeah, I was slow, just like this. Wasn’t I?” Price eased his pace, slowing down the movement of his hand buried in your pants.

“Yes… just like that,” you moaned as your eyes rolled back. You were lifting your hips up and down on Price’s lap now. Matching his pace.

Ghost shifted on his knees. His hand tightened against the doorknob as he continued to watch you both from the dimly lit hall.

“Has anyone else ever made you feel like that before, sweetheart? Has anyone ever made you feel that good?” Price asked as his voice dropped lower. He was practically growling at you.

And you…your face turned pink. Your lips parted. Your eyes closed. And your breathing… it became sporadic. Each inhale became a gasp. Each exhale became more desperate than the last.

This was wrong. Ghost shouldn’t be watching this. This wasn’t his intention. He never meant to see this. His eyes fell to the ground. But still, he stayed. He listened.

“No,” you moaned.

“That’s right. And no one has ever made me feel as good as you did either. You felt so good, love. So fucking good. And you want to know why I trust you?”

Ghost eyes snapped back to the two of you. This was the answer he needed.

“Mmmm tell me...” you gasped. The Captain picked up his pace, his hand delving between your legs with greater force. God the sounds your body was making. They were so loud. “Please tell me, Price.”

“It’s because I love you, beautiful. I’m so in love with you. You’re so perfect. I trust you with my life because I love you. I want to fuck you like that all the time… because I love you. If anyone got to love you like I love you they would trust you. Forever. Always.”

Ghost heard enough. He quietly backed away and gently closed the door.

He had found a truth today. Even if it wasn’t his place to hear it.

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

(More from this story on AO3)

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 1.2k | tags: first date, first kiss, very slight angst | written for the stwg daily prompt kiss in the rain)

Today has to be perfect, Eddie vows as he parks his van in the Harrington's driveway.

Because today Eddie is taking Steve out on their first date.

Frankly, he has no idea how he managed to get a date with the Steve Harrington. Even more, he has no idea how someone as beautiful and kind and sweet and funny as Steve would want to go out with someone like him.

It certainly helps that they saved the world together and share many, many traumas, as well as some horrible scars that tell the story of everything they've been through.

Eddie wants to believe that's not all that binds them, that the months they've spent growing closer over shared custody of Steve's six nuggets, movie nights, and long hours spent smoking and talking on top of the Munsons' new trailer have a lot to do with it, too.

But Eddie also knows that the Eddie of a year ago would have scoffed at the idea of going out with King Steve. Just like that Steve wouldn't have gone out with the town freak.

Which is why Eddie needs today to be a success.

Today has to be perfect.

As he rings the bell, his heart beats wildly in his chest and sweat forms on his palms.

Steve answers the door with a smile that makes Eddie's knees weak. "Hey," he says, and Eddie's mind blanks for a moment. Steve's wearing those jeans, the ones that look like they're painted on, showing off his legs and...other parts. And he has them paired with a striped polo shirt that is not supposed to look as good as it does.

"Hey," Eddie replies, finally finding his voice. "You ready for a day full of adventure?"

Steve grins and nods, stepping out and closing the door behind him. "Lead the way. As long as there are no monsters to fight, I'm game."

Eddie's plan is simple: a picnic in an empty field he found a few weeks ago, but first some good old-fashioned ball throwing to indulge Steve's love of sports. It's no secret that Eddie hates sports, but he's willing to make an exception for Steve. He often feels that Steve is the one indulging the kids, Robin, or even himself, because except for Lucas, none of their friends enjoy sports, either playing or watching.

So Eddie wants to show Steve that his hobbies and interests are important too, and that Eddie can try to be as involved in them as Steve is in his.

They drive to the field with music blasting, a mix tape that Eddie has made especially for this occasion, a perfect blend of his and Steve's taste in music, and he feels a little more at ease as Steve sings along, off-key and carefree. When "Somebody To Love" comes on, Steve playfully nudges him with his elbow and Eddie joins him as they both sing along, grinning broadly.

"Did you bring me here to murder me and get rid of the body, Munson?" Steve jokes at the sight of the empty field and Eddie lets out a theatrical cackle.

"Afraid I'm going to have my way with you, Harrington?"

Heat pools in his stomach at the smile Steve gives him in response.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Deciding on a hasty retreat before he does something embarrassing like whimper, Eddie climbs out of the van and goes to the back, pulling out an old baseball and a pair of gloves.

"Thought we could start with this," Eddie says, holding up the ball to Steve, who has followed him to the back of the van.

Steve's eyes light up at the sight. "You remembered."

As if Eddie could ever forget all the secrets and stories Steve had shared with him, while the stars above them were the only witnesses to some of the best moments of Eddie's life.

Steve had told him how he had always loved baseball as a little boy, and how his father had sometimes taken him to games. Looking back, Steve said he probably loved his father's attention and time more than the sport itself, but for whatever reason, it had been his first great love. He collected all the cards and knew everything there was to know about stats and players and rules. All he wanted was to be a player.

When he tried out at school, he didn't make the team. It was only years later that Steve found out why he had trouble hitting the ball with his bat: he had impaired vision, something his parents never bothered with, so he was never examined. At the time, he believed it was because he wasn't good enough, a failure. His dad seemed to think the same thing, because after he didn't make the team, he never took Steve to games again.

Steve hadn't played since, so Eddie figured it was time to help Steve have some good memories of baseball again.

Eddie shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, figured you'd like it."

They toss the ball back and forth, Steve coaching Eddie on his form, laughing when Eddie fumbles a catch. They're both having fun, and Eddie starts to relax, thinking maybe this date won't be a disaster after all.

But then Eddie misjudges a throw, and the ball smacks him right on the forehead. He stumbles back, more surprised than hurt, but his confidence takes a hit.

"Shit, Eddie, you okay?" Steve rushes over, concern etched on his face.

Eddie laughs it off, though his heart sinks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just my luck, huh?"

Steve looks relieved but still worried. "Maybe we should take a break."

Eddie nods, feeling like he's already ruined things. He wonders why he thought it was a good idea to throw a ball with an ex-jock when he failed gym class more than once. So much for giving Steve a good baseball memory.

Still, he trudges over to the van to get everything they need for the picnic he has planned. The delighted smile on Steve's face at the sight of the basket and the blanket under Eddie's arm makes him think that maybe all is not lost. But just as he spreads out the blanket and unloads the food he's prepared, he glances up at the sky and sees dark clouds gathering. Still, he clings to the hope that they can finish before the rain comes.

Eddie should have known better. Luck and he have only been acquaintances at the best of times.

Just as they're settling in, the first raindrop falls, then another, and within seconds, it's pouring.

Eddie's heart sinks. This day was supposed to be perfect, and now it's a mess. "I'm so sorry, Steve. This was supposed to be perfect and now —"

Steve cuts him off with a bright laugh, his hair plastered to his forehead, rain running down his face. "Eddie, it's fine. Really."

Eddie looks at him, confused. "But the rain, and the ball, and—"

Steve steps closer, cupping Eddie's face in his hands. "I don't care about any of that. I care about you. You did so much for me today, Eddie." And before Eddie can respond, Steve kisses him.

It's a soft, lingering kiss that makes Eddie forget about the rain, the ball, and everything else. When they pull apart, Steve's smiling. "This is perfect, Eddie."

Eddie laughs, feeling lighter than he has all day. "Yeah, it kinda is."

As they pack up the picnic in the pouring rain, Eddie realizes that maybe perfection isn't about everything going right. Maybe it's about finding the right moments, even in the midst of chaos, with the right person.

[risingoftime]

INTRUDER 🕷 HOBIE BROWN

a/n: my inbox for requests is now closed! I have quite a bit that I need to catch up on. if you already sent one in, don’t worry I’ll be working on it! ₊˚⊹ 18+

During exam season, you have had one of the most stressful times of the year. Hobie was supposed to come over to celebrate completing your last exam, yet you haven’t heard from him since noon. Hobie had always been a shite texter. It was now closer to midnight, and although this wasn’t surprising, you still worried if he was okay. Music blasted throughout your bathroom, drowning out your thoughts as you entered your bedroom to change. Without looking, you collided with a body, causing your towel to drop to the floor. 

Hobie stared at your naked body in complete awe. He innocently went into your bedroom to surprise you with food but walked in on you exiting the bathroom instead. Hobie wasn't sure if he should avert his eyes or simply run out of the flat. Your facial expression mirrored his complete and utter shock. It took everything in Hobie not to let his eyes wander over your perky breasts and supple skin. 

“Hobie, look away, damn it!” You shrieked. Your face felt hot with embarrassment from watching his eyes grow with lust. Hobie looked up to the ceiling as you rushed to grab a robe. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself! Just forget I’ve seen you naked before,” he declared. But, the image was now implanted into his brain. The way your skin glowed from your favourite lotion, the sweet scent radiated off of you. The smell itself enticed Hobie, making him needy for more. He felt his dick harden at the thought of you being naked in the same room as him. Very aware that the tent in his pants was prominent enough to be noticed by you. Fuck it. Hobie turned to watch you as you slid on the black silk robe. In such a rush, you didn’t bother to put anything on underneath. He tried his hardest not to think about how easy it would be for the robe to slip off.

“You could’ve called!” 

“Could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” Hobie smirked. If he had called you earlier, Hobie wouldn’t have been able to glimpse the beautiful body you hid underneath your usual attire. Sweatpants and an oversized tee, in his opinion, that’s when Hobie found you the prettiest. Although it wasn’t his intention, the sight of your nude body topped everything. 

Better than he had imagined in the late nights when he had felt alone. Hobie knew harbouring such feelings for his best friend wasn't right. Yet it wasn’t like he could control it��� or at least that’s what he had told himself. Clearing your throat brought him to reality, and Hobie realized he was staring. 

“This is not a free show,” you stated. Although your voice appeared confident, your body language told another story. Hobie analyzed your inability to keep eye contact and the conscious placement of your arms across your chest to hide your erect nipples. He placed the pizza box on your desk, “Does food count as payment?”  Hobie joked in an attempt to break the ice. He always knew how to make light of any situation, especially one like this. 

“It depends. Did you order pineapple on it?” 

“Yeah, only half. I know how picky you can be.” He noticed your wandering gaze from the pizza box to himself. Hobie wasn’t gullible. He noted how your eyes paused on the growing tent in his pants. A mixture of curiosity and lust swirled in your expression. The tension in the air was palatable; you could practically taste it. You wondered how it would feel to take Hobie into your mouth and taste his cum. Hobie licked his pierced lips, sharing the same sentiment. You cleared your throat and lightly shook your head, failing to shake off the lewd thoughts that littered your mind. “That’s good 'cause I’m starving!” Your voice came out a pitch too high and louder than anticipated. 

Hobie watched as you walked towards the desk, towards him. When your body brushed the front of Hobie’s pants, his hand gripped your hip, keeping you in place. The thrum of your heartbeat overtook your senses, and all your mind could focus on was Hobie’s touch. The simple stroke of his fingertips toying with the loosely tied silk ribbon around your waist made it too easy to become enraptured. Hobie could hear your heartbeat thump loudly in your chest. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. 

“Admiring" was all Hobie said. 

You turned to face him with raised eyebrows, baiting him to continue. Hobie looked down at you and kept his hand firmly on your waist, bunching the fabric of your robe to one side. More of your skin is exposed for him to see. “Hey!” you exclaimed. 

“S’wrong? I’ll show mine if you show yours,” Hobie was needy and desperate to see your naked body, thrilled to take any chance to have you to himself. “Sit down on the chair,” you instructed softly, growing tired of him always making you flustered. The sudden change of attitude took Hobie aback, but didn’t object. In a swift motion, you removed your robe and climbed on top of your bed to face him, bare and vulnerable. 

“I want you to watch.”

“Just watch?” He sighed. 

You simply nodded, unsure if you could trust your voice to come out. This was a first for both of you, and you didn’t want to lose momentum. With open legs, use one hand to slowly glide your fingers down your lower stomach until they graze your clit. Your eyes remained on Hobie as he shifted in his seat, trying to ignore his aching desire. You rolled your hips against your hand, eliciting a low moan from your mouth, playing with the wet slickness that spilled in between your folds. “Such a pretty pussy,” Hobie groaned. The sight of you touching yourself made him feel hot and heavy. Hobie’s dick throbbed against his jeans, practically begging to be handled—a sweet punishment for walking in on you. He dutifully watched as you worked up your nerves, edging to climax. Observing your fingers gliding in and out of your pussy as your breathy moans echoed throughout the bedroom. The sound of your orgasm erased everything. Hobie couldn’t think of anything else, but he had wanted to illicit such a reaction. 

“Please,” Hobie whimpered. 

“Please, what? Use your words.” The shift in power dynamics ignited a fire within you. You didn’t know that Hobie could be submissive and utterly vulnerable, a side of him you had not seen before. “Please… let me fuck you” Hobie’s voice was barely above a whisper; it was unfamiliar territory for him to plead. Hobie might like to be in control, ahead of everyone except you. He relinquishes all restraint. A thin line he rarely crosses. Narrowing your eyes on Hobie, you don’t dare break eye contact as his dark gaze tracks your every move towards him. “Not yet,” you command. 

Getting down on your knees, you separate Hobie’s legs and settle yourself in between them. Your hands graze his thighs, slowly moving upwards and closer to his crotch. Unbuckling his studded belt, you tease him by stroking his cock through his boxers, lightly gripping around his thick girth. You can feel his dick jerk under your fingers as Hobie tries to hold back his sensitive nerves from making him finish in his pants. The mere sight of you bent down in front of him with his dick in your hand was doing him wonders. Your curls were expertly slicked back into a bun so he could see your dark brown eyes as your tongue swirled around his tip. Licking off the pre cum that coated Hobie’s skin before taking the head of his dick in your mouth.

“Agh fuck baby,” Hobie groaned. You took all of him in as he moaned loudly and convulsed in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. You pull back up and wrap your hands around the base of his length, groping Hobie before swallowing him again. Your head bobbed as Hobie thrust into your mouth, unable to hold back. He was practically spilling onto your tongue. Hobie’s hands gripped the chair handles while keeping eye contact with heavy-lidded eyes. Dangerously close. “God-“ Hobie couldn’t hear anything else above you sloppily slurping his dick.  His whines did nothing but encourage you to suck harder. Your pussy pulsed around empty space, desperate to feel him.

Yet you remained patient, craving for Hobie to melt on your tongue. “I’m gonna- babe, I’m gonna come,” Hobie rasped. His hand-drawn to support the back of your neck as he continued to fuck your mouth. Hobie’s skin was smooth and soft compared to the rest of him. The hardness of his desire twitched before releasing streams of cum down your throat. Hobie let out a broken gasp as he continued to look down on you, watching with parted lips in the form of an “o.” Hobie’s eyes alluded to one thing: pure lust. His gaze ignited a fire inside you that you didn’t even know was lit. He lowered his head to brush his lips against yours before deepening the kiss. Hobie only paused to lift you off your knees and onto his lap to straddle his waist. His warm member is still slick with your spit as your folds glide along his length. 

You could hear Hobie’s staggered breath against your ear as he tried to hold onto the little composure he had left. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth,” Hobie whispered. Your cheeks grew hot from his bluntness. Feeling shy from his words was ridiculous when your actions earlier were nothing but innocent. Hobie kissed you intensely as if he believed you would’ve vanished before him. His tongue was demanding yet soft against yours, tasting himself with visor. Hobie’s hands gripped your ass while he moved his hips up to meet your core. He moaned into your mouth from feeling your wet pussy on his dick. The feeling of his cock becoming hard sent shivers throughout your body.

“I’m tired of waiting; I need you inside me.” It hadn’t mattered how close you were to each other. Your bodies still leaned in for more. Never enough. Your heart beats fast against your chest, loud enough that you are sure Hobie could hear it with anticipation of him aligning himself to slide inside you. You watch his abs flex beautifully underneath you.  He had wanted this, and God knows how bad he craved to feel your tight pussy wrap around him. Hobie’s body had gone still once you took in his full length, a stillness that only he could evoke. Taking it all in, silently admiring and immortalizing the outline of your curves as you sat on top of him. 

“Fuck, you’re so, ah-” Hobie was at a loss for words once you began to grind yourself up and down. His eyes rolled back, blissed out. No one has seen this vulnerable side of him but only you. Hobie cursed under his breath, holding you in place to feel the depth of each stroke. Both of you are in perfect sync. You thought him everywhere as he positioned himself to thrust into you vigorously from below. Slower and harder. Your walls clenched as your core tightened. “Say my name when you cum” Hobie rasped. Every tingling sensation sent you screaming and pleading for more of him. More of anything that he would provide, you would selfishly take it. Concentrating with one of his hands on your waist and the other groping your breasts was hard. As ecstasy rippled through, your fingers dug into his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Hobie!” You moaned. The sound of your wet pussy and Hobie’s whimpers filled the room. His hips stuttered, but his movements didn’t subside while he continued to push you further. Hobie bit his lip at seeing you undone on his dick. He wouldn’t be able to get the image out of his head. His eyebrows drew together in deep focus. He was holding back. “Let it out. Come inside me.” Hobie’s eyes met yours before his lips came over yours again, fierce and thorough. Pushing forward towards his own pleasure, beyond his own control. The sound that escaped his mouth could only be described as lewd. Hobie buried himself inside you, filling your pussy with his cum. The warmth of him dripped inside as you rode out the final waves like an aftershock. It never mattered how many times you fucked. You always craved him even more than the last time. To hear him sigh your name like a dying prayer.

navigation | hobie request ₊˚⊹

[wonyowonyo]

Burnout (P. Hanni X M!Reader)

Another upd for my cutie pham <3 This one's loosely inspired by a song with the same title as the story. I also used first person POV for this one to amplify the feelings for the story. Anyways this one was really a new experience for me, but I hope yall like this!

You and Hanni strolled hand-in-hand through the bustling city streets, the glowing lights of Seoul casting a warm glow over their faces. As an up-and-coming idol, Hanni's fame was on the rise, but in this moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Hanni's delicate features were radiant, her brown eyes sparkling with joy as she laughed at one of your silly jokes. The sound sent a shiver down your spine - God, you loved that laugh. It was music to your ears, a siren's call that you could never resist.

You both ducked into a cozy café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries enveloping both of your noses. Hanni's eyes lit up as she surveyed the menu, eagerly describing her favorite drinks and desserts. You couldn't help but be captivated by her enthusiasm, her passion infectious.

As you both sipped your drinks and shared a decadent slice of cake, Hanni's phone suddenly buzzed with a call. Her manager's name flashed on the screen, and you could see the disappointment in her eyes as she reluctantly answered.

The conversation was brief, but you could tell by the way Hanni's shoulders slumped that it was not good news. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," she said, her voice laced with regret. "I have to go. There's an emergency at the agency, and they need me back right away."

You nodded, understanding the demands of her career, even if it meant sacrificing your precious time together. You pulled her into a tight embrace, savoring the warmth of her body and the familiar scent of her perfume. "It's okay, love. I know how important your work is. Go, and be amazing."

Hanni squeezed your back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love you, You. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay?"

With a final, lingering kiss, Hanni hurried out the door, leaving you alone in the cozy café, the bittersweet taste of their interrupted date still lingering on your lips.

You sit alone in the café, the once-vibrant atmosphere now feeling a bit hollow without Hanni's presence. You take a sip of your now lukewarm coffee, the bitter liquid doing little to soothe the ache in your chest.

As you stare out the window, watching the bustling city go by, memories of your relationship flood your mind. The way Hanni's face would light up when you both plan a spontaneous date night, the inside jokes you guys shared that would have you both in stitches, the tender moments where you simply hold each other close, reveling in the comfort of each other's embrace.

But lately, those moments had become fewer and farther between. Hanni's schedule had become increasingly demanding as her fame and success grew. You understood, of course – you knew what you were signing up for when you fell for the charming idol. Yet, it didn't make it any easier to accept the reality of your situation.

You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair in frustration. You want nothing more than to be by Hanni's side, to support her and be there for her, but the distance and the constant interruptions are starting to wear on you. You love her with every fiber of your being, but the uncertainty of your future together is a heavy weight on your heart.

As you sit there, lost in your thoughts, the bustling noise of the café fades away, and all you can hear is the echoes of Hanni's laughter, the soft whispers of "I love you," and the bittersweet ache of a love that feels further and further out of reach.

The months pass, and you can't help but feel the growing distance between you and Hanni. What was once a vibrant, passionate love has slowly started to fade, like a once-vibrant painting slowly weathering away under the relentless march of time.

Hanni's schedule has become increasingly demanding, with back-to-back schedules, endless promotional events, and extended periods away from home. And with each passing day, You feel the ache in your heart grow stronger, the yearning for her touch, her laughter, her presence becoming a constant, nagging ache.

One evening, as you both sit across from each other in your apartment, the silence is deafening. Hanni's eyes are glued to her phone, fingers rapidly typing away as she coordinates her schedule. You watch her, your heart sinking with each passing moment.

"Hanni," you say softly, reaching out to gently touch her hand. "Can we talk?"

Hanni's gaze flicks up to meet yours, her expression guarded. "About what?" she asks, her tone clipped.

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat nearly choking you. "About us. About how... how things have been between us lately."

Hanni's eyes narrow slightly, and she pulls her hand away, setting her phone down on the table. "I don't know what you mean. Everything's fine."

"No, Hanni, it's not," You press, your voice rising with a desperate edge. "We used to be so close, so in sync. But lately, it feels like you're always distracted, always somewhere else. I feel like I'm losing you."

Hanni's jaw clenches, and she averts her gaze, unwilling to meet your pleading eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but you knew what you were getting into when we started this. My career is important to me, and it's only going to get busier. If you can't handle that, then..."

She trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between them. You feel your heart shatter, the realization dawning that Hanni may be willing to choose her career over their relationship.

"Hanni, please," he begs, reaching out to her once more. "I love you. I want to be there for you, to support you. But I need you to be here for me too. I need you to make time for us, for our relationship."

Hanni's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and for a moment, You see the vulnerable, conflicted woman he fell in love with. But then, her expression hardens, and she shakes her head.

"I can't make any promises, Y/N. My work has to come first. If you can't accept that, then maybe... maybe we're not meant to be."

With those words, she gathers her things and leaves, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the deafening silence.

You sit there, alone in the apartment, your heart shattered into a million pieces. The love he had cherished for so long suddenly feels like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

The days that follow are a painful blur for you. You find yourself constantly reaching for your phone, yearning to hear Hanni's voice, to feel her comforting presence by your side. But the calls and texts go unanswered, leaving you feeling more alone and adrift than ever before.

You tried to go about your daily life, throwing yourself into your work in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the gaping hole in your heart. But everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Hanni – the coffee shop you used to go to frequently, the park where you would take long strolls together, the cozy nook in your apartment where you guys would curl up and watch movies together.

The memories torment him, replaying in an endless loop in your mind. He can still vividly recall the way Hanni's eyes would light up when she talked about her dreams, the soft, tender kisses they would share, the way she would trace the contours of your face with such adoration.

But now, those precious moments feel like they happened in another lifetime. The Hanni you knew and loved seems like a distant, fading memory, replaced by a stranger who is consumed by the demands of her career.

You find yourself wondering when things started to shift, when the spark that once burned so brightly between them began to flicker and fade. Was it the constant schedule changes and last-minute cancellations? The long, lonely nights spent apart? Or was it something deeper, a fundamental shift in their priorities and desires?

You ache to reach out to Hanni, to plead with her to reconsider, to fight for the love they once shared. But the words suddenly get stuck in your throat, and you find yourself paralyzed by the fear of losing her forever.

The silence between the two of you grows deafening, each passing day a fresh reminder of the chasm that now separates you both. You feel adrift, your heart yearning for the woman you love, even as you know that she may be slipping further and further away.

The weeks turn into months, and the distance between you and Hanni only seems to grow. What was once a vibrant, passionate romance now feels like a distant memory, fading like a once-vibrant painting under the relentless march of time.

You find yourself constantly on edge, your heart racing every time your phone lights up, only to be disappointed when it's not Hanni's name on the screen. You long to hear her voice, to feel the warmth of her embrace, but the calls and texts go unanswered, leaving you feeling more alone and adrift than ever before.

The ache in your chest is a constant companion, a dull, throbbing pain that never seems to go away. You tried to distract yourself, throwing yourself into your work and social activities, but nothing can truly fill the void that Hanni has left in your life.

When you do manage to see each other, the tension is palpable. The easy banter and playful flirtation that once defined their relationship has been replaced by stilted conversation and an uneasy silence. You can see the strain and exhaustion in Hanni's eyes, the weight of her demanding schedule taking a visible toll on her.

You wanted to reach out, to pull her into your arms and hold her close, to reassure her that you’re here for her, no matter what. But you find yourself frozen, unable to bridge the growing chasm between you two.

As the months pass, You start to wonder if this is it – if the love the two of you once shared is truly slipping through your fingers, forever lost to the relentless demands of Hanni's career. The thought cuts you to the core, leaving you feeling adrift and utterly bereft.

————————————————————

The memory of how you and Hanni's relationship first blossomed feels like a lifetime ago, a bittersweet echo of the love and passion that once burned so brightly between them.

It had started innocently enough - You had caught one of Newjeans' live performances, captivated by the raw energy and undeniable talent of the young group. But it was Hanni, with her radiant smile and effortless stage presence, who had truly captured your heart.

After the show, You had impulsively waited by the stage door, hoping for a chance encounter. To your surprise and delight, Hanni had emerged, surrounded by a gaggle of eager fans. But as your eyes met, You swore you felt a spark of connection, a brief moment of recognition that set your heart racing.

Summoning your courage, you approached her, introducing yourself and complimenting her performance. Hanni, ever the gracious idol, had smiled warmly and engaged you in friendly conversation, seemingly unaware of the effect she was having on you.

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself drawn back to the venue, eagerly anticipating each of Newjeans' shows. And each time, you would catch Hanni's eye, the two of you sharing a brief, tantalizing moment of connection that set your pulse racing.

It was during one of those chance encounters that Hanni had boldly approached you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, I've noticed you here a lot," she had said, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Is there a particular reason you keep coming to our shows?"

You had felt your cheeks flush, suddenly self-conscious. "I... I just really admire your work," you stammered. "And, well, I've been hoping to get the chance to, um, talk to you."

Hanni had laughed, the sound like music to your ears. "In that case, how about we grab a coffee sometime? I'd love to get to know you better."

From that moment on, You and Hanni were inseparable, the burgeoning romance blossoming like a delicate flower in the spring. They would steal away to quiet corners, losing themselves in endless conversations, their laughter and stolen glances drawing curious stares from onlookers.

It was a whirlwind courtship, marked by stolen moments and passionate kisses, as You and Hanni navigated the challenges of their unlikely pairing. But through it all, their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger, a bond that transcended the boundaries of their different worlds.

The blissful days with Hanni feel like a distant dream, a bittersweet echo of a love that once burned so passionately between them.

You can still vividly recall the way Hanni's eyes would light up whenever they were together, the way her infectious laughter would send shivers down your spine. Your stolen moments were electric, filled with a palpable chemistry that made the rest of the world fade away.

In those early days, the challenges of Hanni's burgeoning idol career seemed surmountable, a hurdle they could overcome together through sheer force of will and unwavering devotion. You were willing to do whatever it took to support Hanni, to be her rock and her solace amidst the whirlwind of her demanding schedule.

And Hanni, in turn, had made you feel like the most important person in her world. She would carve out precious pockets of time just for you, taking you away to cozy cafes or quiet parks, where you both could lose yourselves in each other's embrace, unburdened by the constraints of her celebrity status.

Those carefree, blissful moments were the foundation upon which your love was built, a testament to the depth of your connection and the unwavering commitment you guys shared. You had been certain that this bond was unbreakable, that no challenge could ever truly tear the both of you apart.

But as the demands of Hanni's career escalated, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The once-spontaneous dates and stolen embraces became fewer and farther between, replaced by hurried phone calls and hastily rescheduled plans.

You tried your best to be understanding, to be the supportive, patient partner that Hanni needed. You knew the sacrifices she was making, the dreams she was chasing, and he was determined to be there for her, no matter what.

But as the distance between you two grew, You couldn't help but feel the ache in your heart deepen. The intimacy they had once shared felt like a distant memory, replaced by a growing sense of disconnect and uncertainty.

And now, as you sit alone in the apartment you once spent time with, the echoes of your laughters and the warmth of Hanni’s embrace feel like a cruel taunt, a painful reminder of what you may have lost forever.

You know, deep down, that you need to make a decision – to either fight for Hanni and your relationship, or to let her go, to set her free to pursue her dreams, even if it means sacrificing your own happiness.

But the fear of losing her, of having to face a future without her by your side, is a weight that threatens to crush you. You find yourself caught in a painful limbo, torn between your love for Hanni and the realization that you may have to let her go.

The uncertainty of your future together haunts you, a constant, nagging presence that leaves you feeling more lost and alone than you’ve ever felt before. All you can do is hold on, to cherish the fleeting moments you guys do have together, and to pray that somehow, someway, you two can find your way back to each other, before it's too late

Those precious memories now feel like bittersweet reminders of a time long past, a testament to the love that once burned so brightly between them. And as You finds himself adrift in the present, he can't help but wonder if that spark can ever be rekindled, or if the distance and demands of Hanni's career have doomed their relationship to a tragic end.

————————————————————

The air is thick with tension as Hanni sits across from you, her eyes downcast and her lips pressed into a thin line. She's been dreading this moment, the inevitable conversation they've been avoiding for weeks, but she knows it has to be done.

"Y/N, I..." Hanni starts, her voice wavering slightly. "I don't know how to say this, but... I think we need to end our relationship."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the breath right out of your lungs. You stare at Hanni, your eyes wide with disbelief and hurt. "What? Hanni, no, please... I thought we were..."

Hanni raises a hand, silencing you with a pained expression. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted it to come to this, but... my career is just taking over, and I can't give you the time and attention you deserve."

You reach across the table, your fingers trembling as you grasps Hanni's hand. "Please, Hanni, don't do this. I understand how demanding your schedule is, but we can make it work. I'm willing to be patient, to wait for you, to support you no matter what."

Hanni's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she gently extricates her hand from yours. "That's just it, Y/N. I can't ask you to put your life on hold for me. You deserve someone who can give you the time and affection you need, not someone who is constantly preoccupied with work."

The words feel like a knife to your  heart, and you can't stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. "But I love you, Hanni. I don't care about any of that, I just want to be with you."

Hanni nodded, her expression guarded. "I know," she replied, "But we've both changed. We're no longer like we were before." The moments that had once felt so effortless and joyful now slipped by in awkward, stilted exchanges.”It's not that simple, You. I wish it were, but the truth is, we've really just changed. The way we feel about each other, the way we connect - it's just not the same anymore."

"How can you say that, Hanni?" You whispered, their voice trembling. "How can you just give up on us like this?"

Hanni looked down, her guilt stopping her from answering your question. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you remembered the depths of your affection for her. "Oh, I loved you for so long," you admitted, the words laced with a bittersweet nostalgia.

You shook your head, at a loss for words. "Things weren't like this before," you mused, your thoughts a turbulent whirlwind. 

The silence stretched between the both of you, heavy and oppressive. You ached to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed, but the fear of rejection once again held you back. Hanni, too, seemed lost, unsure of how to mend the rift that had grown.

"I'm calling you," you whispered, your voice laced with a desperate longing. "I'm wooing you, even if you can't hear it, even if you can't feel it." your words cut through the silence, a last-ditch effort to rekindle the flame that had once burned so brightly between you.

————————————————————

The room around you faded, and suddenly, you were transported to a different time, a memory of a happier, more carefree era.

The sun streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow over the cozy apartment you owned, which Hanni leisurely spends her free time sometimes. You were curled up on the sofa, Hanni’s head resting on her shoulder as she read aloud from a well-worn book, her voice resonating through the room.

Every so often, you would glance up at hier, your eyes sparkling with adoration. The way the light danced across your features, the gentle crinkle of her eyes as she smiled – it all filled your heart with a profound sense of contentment.

Reaching up, you traced the outline of her jaw, marveling at the way her skin felt beneath your fingertips. "I love you, Hanni," you murmured, your voice soft and melodic.

She looked down at you, her gaze overflowing with affection. "And I love you, You," she replied, leaning in to brush her lips against yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as you lost yourselves in the moment, the rest of the world fading away until it was just the two of you, basking in the glow of your love.

Afterwards, you snuggled closer, your fingers intertwined as you listened to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The air was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional shared laugh or wyourpered confession.

It was in these quiet, intimate moments that you felt truly at home, your heart swelling with a profound sense of belonging. The demands of the outside world seemed to melt away, and all that mattered was the gentle warmth of Hanni's embrace and the unwavering connection you shared.

————————————————————

As the memory began to fade, you could almost feel the ghost of her touch, the lingering warmth of her kiss. A bittersweet ache filled your chest, a yearning for the pure, uncomplicated love you had once known.

And in that moment, you clung to the recollection of those happier times, a glimmer of hope that perhaps, with time and effort, you and Hanni could find your way back to that same level of intimacy and understanding.

The vivid memory of you and Hanni's past happiness only served to amplify the ache in your heart as you were pulled back to the present, the harsh reality of your current situation crashing down upon you.

You gazed at her, your eyes shimmering with  tears, as the weight of all that you had lost threatened to overwhelm you. "Do you remember how it used to be, Hanni?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. "When everything was so simple, so effortless between us?"

Hanni's expression softened, a flicker of that bygone tenderness flickering in her eyes. "Of course I do, You," she murmured,  "Those were the happiest days of my life."

Your eyes searched her face, desperate to find the woman you had fallen in love with all those years ago. "What happened to us, Hanni?" 

She let out a shaky sigh, her gaze downcast. "I wish I knew," she admitted, while tears continued to stream down your cheeks. "Maybe it was the constant pressure of our lives, the way we got caught up in the whirlwind and lost sight of what really mattered."

You nodded, understanding dawning in your heart. "But we fought so hard to be together," you murmured, your voice tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia. "Didn't that mean anything?"

"It meant everything, Y/N," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Trust me, it really does, and it still does. But... I don't know if that's enough to fix what's been broken between us." 

The finality in her words struck you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. "So, that's it then?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and devastation. "We're really over?"

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," she murmured, her voice hoarse with grief. "I never wanted things to end up like this."

You felt your world crumbling around her. You want to argue, to plead with her to reconsider, but you know it would be futile. Hanni has made up her mind, and nothing you say will change that.

With a heavy heart, You nod, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "I understand," you whisper, the words catching in your throat. "I'll always love you, Hanni. I hope you know that."

Hanni reaches across the table, giving your hand one last, lingering squeeze. "I love you too, Y/N. And I'll always treasure the time we had together. But this is for the best, for both of us."

As Hanni stands to leave, You watch her go, the weight of their shattered dreams hanging heavy in the air. You’re left alone, surrounded by the ghosts of their shared memories, your heart torn to pieces by the realization that the love of your life is slipping through your fingers.

You closed your eyes, your heart torn between the love you still harbored and the growing uncertainty that clouded your future. Staring at the window, your eyes subtly shifted down to the table beside, spotting a polaroid of Hanni that was taken by you. The photograph, that was previously a sentiment of undying love and fondness, was now a keepsake of a love that has faltered. A memory of what could’ve been. "Oh, I will love you for a long time," you murmured, the words a bittersweet promise that hung in the air, a testament to the bond you once shared.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 01

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, bad words.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Loud music, the smell of cigarettes, screams, and applause.

This was his nightly routine.

His throat vibrated as he gargled for the vocal exercises he needed to perform before going on stage, all while warming up his arm muscles in front of the mirror. The atmosphere in the band was anything but pleasant, but you had to overlook it because of the people outside shouting your name.

They always deserved more from you.

It was because of them that was still here.

You spat the liquid into the glass and took a deep breath, touching up the lipstick on your lips. Adjusting your clothes into place, your hair was good enough. From the box on the dressing room table, you picked up the microphone and plugged in the feedback device into your ears. It was showtime.

“You’re on in five minutes. For God’s sake, at least pretend on stage that you don’t want to kill each other backstage. This show is really important for the band!”

“No need to repeat what I already know, Matt,” you said, rolling your eyes as you left the dressing room with him trailing behind.

“Everyone already knows, darling, but you two seem to forget that the damn contract keeping our rent paid and our asses clean depends on your performance on stage. And let’s face it, it hasn’t exactly been stellar these last few shows!”

Matt planted a negative memory in your mind right then. You recalled that your fans had noticed the radical shift in energy during the shows, which had become a hot topic on blogs and Twitter debates. The last thing you wanted was your name caught up in controversies, but being near him seemed to attract everything you despised.

You were exhausted.

For two years, you had been on the road with the band, touring endlessly—one show after another, with no breaks, no chance to experience even a shred of what it meant to have a normal life. You couldn’t eat at a restaurant without being photographed or go to a bar without someone asking for a picture. This was the life you had always wanted, but you never imagined how draining it could be when there were no moments to simply be yourself.

The band had grown increasingly reclusive in social interactions. Some unpleasant incidents on the internet had made you wary of engaging with the public, creating a distance that only grew wider. Being forced to see the same faces every single day was enough to drive anyone insane.

And in the midst of it all, as if things weren’t exhausting enough, there was your relationship with Noah, growing more unsustainable by the day.

You reached the edge of the stage and watched the intro begin. Your audience roared, chanting your name. The heat from the packed arena ignited your veins, filling you with adrenaline as they waited for the headliners of the night.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Noah approaching. Without a word, he warmed up, twisting the glove on his long fingers as he adjusted the microphone. Next to him, with a backstage pass around her neck, was a girl you’d never seen before. Judging by the way she looked at him, it was clear she was the random fling he’d slept with the night before.

“Looks like someone had an excellent night, huh?” you said sarcastically, not even sure if he could hear you. “I thought Matt told you it was against the rules to hand out backstage passes to every girl you sleep with.”

You could taste the bitterness of your own words. The raw anger you felt toward him was so intense you wanted to hurl the microphone to the floor and lock yourself in the dressing room. He did this on purpose. He wanted to destabilize you. He wanted you to be angry at yourself for standing on the opposite side of the battlefield.

“Maybe instead of worrying about my life, you should focus on not going off-key tonight,” Noah muttered close to your ear, leaving your body stiff as he walked away toward the stage.

You stepped onto the stage with a wide smile, masking the turmoil inside. The crowd was ecstatic to see you, and despite your exhaustion, you gave it everything you had. Up there, you tried to erase everything weighing down your heart. You poured it into every guitar riff, every lyric you sang.

Your voice had never been more powerful. Between verses, you and Noah locked eyes with a hateful intensity, as if sparks were flying from your irises. If the microphone could beg for mercy, it would, under the force of your grip during your part.

“I lie to myself like it’s not too late,” you sang with emphasis, pacing across the stage, never breaking eye contact with him. “Convinced the past can still be changed.”

“We know it’s gone, but I can’t move on,” he shot back, dividing his gaze between you and the crowd. For a fleeting second, it felt like the world disappeared, leaving only you and Noah in that place. “I want to rewind, but it just replays.”

“But it’s too late to turn back now.” Without realizing it, you skipped part of the song, consumed by your fury.

The show had ended, and you were met with a roaring ovation from the fans as you left the stage. On your way to the dressing room, you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned immediately.

"How are you?" Folio’s tone was gentle as he walked alongside you with slow steps. "Maybe it’s just in my head, but I’ve noticed you’ve seemed a bit off these past few days."

"I’m just tired, Nick. Nothing for you to worry about," you assured him with a smile, and he nodded, parting ways as you entered the dressing room.

"If you need anything, you know you can count on me, right?"

"Of course! Thank you for that!"

The door closed behind you, and as soon as you turned around, you were startled, backing up against it as your breath hitched. Noah was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, his expression far from pleasant. Before you could take a step forward, you tried to steady yourself.

"We’ve already talked about you coming into my dressing room without permission, Noah. Please leave." Your tone was cold as you pointed to the door without looking directly at him. "There’s a reason we asked for separate spaces, and I’d like you to respect that."

"Matt’s right," he said, ignoring your request as he leaned back on the couch. "We’re letting this ruin the band. If it’s not on stage, it’s in the studio or at home. Every place we’re in has turned into a battleground because you can’t deal with someone from your past like a normal person."

"Of course, you’d say this is my fault!" you laughed bitterly, crossing your arms as you paced back and forth. "I have to put up with you being immature and flaunting the random women you sleep with every day in some pathetic attempt to push me away, but I’m the one who can’t handle being around you?"

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips.

"Since we broke up, you’ve been trying to prove to yourself that you’re above all this, and maybe you are. Because while you’re out there moving on with your life like nothing happened, I’m falling apart!"

You spat the words impulsively, but you hadn’t meant to say them—not because they weren’t true, but because opening up now wouldn’t change anything.

"That was never my intention…"

"That's never your intention, Noah," you said with a weak smile. "The person on the other side is never going to admit they’re wrong, and that’s fine. Screw it. I just want you to stop acting like I don’t exist!"

A shadow loomed over you, and in that moment, all the air was stolen from your lungs. Noah was so close there was no room to step back. You felt your skin burn, hating yourself for still being affected by his proximity—the same man who had been ruining all your days.

"And how could I?" Noah said softly, lifting your chin with his index finger. "If I could ask you for just one thing, it would be to teach me how to get you out of my head as easily as you got me out of yours."

He had no idea what was going on in your mind.

"It’s very simple…" you said, pulling his hand away from your skin and stepping back. "Just start hating me."

As your gaze met his, you noticed something different from what he usually displayed. You had never been this direct with him about what you’d been carrying inside yourself all these days. Noah provoked you constantly because he believed he still held a place in your heart. But now, he seemed to be confronting the reality that it no longer existed.

"If my presence in the band bothers you so much, I can leave. I don’t need to tell them the real reason—just that I’m tired and want to take a break from all this crap." A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you ran your fingers through your hair, messing it up.

The band had been your dream from the start, and you had never felt more alive than when you were on stage. Your audience had given you everything, reminding you daily of how special, talented, and important you were.

But you were fully aware that you had ruined it all the moment you crossed the line of professionalism with Noah. Not when you were young and reckless, unable to see that while you were an excellent team carrying the band, you were terrible for each other.

Some things just weren’t meant to be.

"And what are you going to do after leaving the band you helped build?" Noah asked, his tone hardening. He forced your attention back to him, stepping into your line of sight and locking his glittering eyes on yours. "Are you going to keep drinking out of control, getting high like there’s no tomorrow, and throwing away your dream like you don’t deserve it? Damn it!"

"If you really care about what I’ll do, then just leave me alone, please," you said, lowering your head to avoid changing your mind if you looked at him for too long. "I need to pack my things and get on the bus before Matt shows up."

"This conversation isn’t over."

"If it’s up to me, it is."

With that final, cutting remark, Noah left you alone in the cramped space that now felt even smaller after this argument. And now, you’d have to board a bus with him and endure a 12-hour drive to the next destination.

Your chest ached as tears streamed down your face, that distinct scent of his lingering in the air and making it unbearable to breathe.

It was getting harder with each passing day.

[sofayya]

Mateo Avelino - my submission for @smallsimmer bachelorette challenge!

backstory under the cut ♡

Coming from Polynesian and Spanish descent, Mateo Avelino was born in a small yet vibrant town of California. His father passed away when Mateo was 2, and being raised by a single mother meant that the struggle was no stranger to him. He never got to know his father personally, but through the stories from his mother Mateo knew his father was a strong and kind man. Mateo holds pride in this fact and lives his life to uphold his fathers legacy. His mother raised him with kindness and patience; and even though they may not have lived under the best of circumstances, Mateo grew to learn that being "rich" does not necessarily mean to have money. In fact, Mateo is quite frugal and would rather fix or make something himself than to buy it new. He spends his time refurbishing things that are old into something more modern and to his taste. He finds manual labor to soothe his mind and good thing too because this is how he makes most of his money. He loves to put on some good music, craft and/fix some furniture and make some good money for the day. On his off days he enjoys playing his guitar making his own music, as well as taking extra good care of his plants, something that has given him piece ever since the first day his grandmother took him to her garden. Since then Mateo has made gardening his own hobby, finding beauty in the process and making his entire apartment a garden of its own.

When it comes to romance, Mateo is a hopeless romantic at heart; passionate, thoughtful, and deeply committed once he finds someone who resonates with his soul. He believes that love should be like a plant; nurtured with patience, attention, and care. He believes the most lasting connections are the ones that grow slowly, deepening over time. This being said, Mateo hasn't had the best of luck when it comes to love. He has a history of romanticizing the idea of people and situations that have lead him to multiple heartbreaks; leaving him now a little guarded when it comes to new romantic pursuits. Regardless, Mateo has still enjoyed his fair share of casual hookups; he is no stranger to a good time, but Mateo is getting older and he wants to settle down. He wants somebody to share a life with and his mom (being a huge fan of the show) has pushed him to apply. Who knows? Maybe he will find everything he has ever dreamed of.

Age: 27

Traits: Frugal, Green thumb, Handy, Hopeless Romantic, Virtuoso

Lifetime Wish: The Perfect Garden Zodiac: Scorpio

[gerardpilled]

I want to say thanks for acknowledging and being critical of racism done by MCR band members and racism in the scene in general. I just recently got into MCR a year ago on a deeper scale and I have found many things off putting and kind of yikes. It's nice seeing someone who is critical of what the band members have done in the past and not excusing them and addressing that it was an issue as a whole. I used to be very hateful towards Lindsey but now I realize that it would be hypocritical (I still do not like MSI just due to it not being my taste in music and I don't care for that shock value type lyrics). I was wondering if you know any resources that talk more about racism in the scene? It's something I'd like to know more about

Oh it’s no problem! Thank you for thanking me, but I don’t see myself as doing anything special. I was raised in an environment where I was fortunate enough to be around people and friends who have made me aware of implicit racism -from my self and others- since an early age. Hearing “well, that’s cause you’re white” is a playful joke but it also made me aware of stuff! Just from what I’ve seen in recent years, the shortcomings of white people who are the focus of fandom are often ignored. There’s nothing wrong with pointing out a racist thing your fave said or did because it doesn’t necessarily make them A Racist™️ (sometimes it can). It also helps people recognize the issues before they get worse. POC aren’t a monolith - there are plenty of things disagreed on amongst any community - but there are definitely over arching sentiments.

Anyway, I’m basically just reiterating a bunch of talking points made by poc on here. As for further reading, I feel like the best sources for me have been mutuals’ posts. First hand stories. Being receptive when people share how certain things make them feel. Racism in this particular scene is also sort of a new and emerging topic as the people who lived through the heart of it are just now reaching authorship age. I look forward to seeing what comes out in the next few years.

What I have right now:

My Chemical Relaxer - a short autobiographical story about growing up Black and emo

News story about how the current state of hardcore is looking much more diverse

Sing It Zine - zine made by fanartists a few years ago!! It’s great, I bought a digital copy myself. It’s filled with art and short essays about how it felt to grow up in a scene that often ignored non white people. Also a bunch of tumblr users participated, so it offers a great follow list if you’re interested.

If anyone else has any suggestions, add them in a reblog, or send them and I’ll do it!

[sweetchildcloud]

||BEAN|| written by me

Plot: Maki and you had a baby and your wife is getting used to it

Tags-Lesbian love,woman x woman,Maki x fem!reader,lots of cuddles,fluff,motherly love,heartwarming,cute overload,it is intended that Myla grows a bit in the story.

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

P.s: my brain is in riot cause of Maki x fem raeder ughhh + you don't know how much it taked to describe th f*cking lion plushie + the intended stuff are the description

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @ponderingmoonlight @satorkive

-Maki never considered herself a maternal person. She had never spent time around kids or even thought much about them before. When she and her wife decided to get pregnant, she was nervous and scared. But seeing her wife's glowing face as she held their baby for the first time, everything changed. Suddenly, she knew she could love with a fierceness she hadn't known existed. She spent every waking moment devoted to being the best mother she could be, from changing diapers to singing lullabies and reading bedtime stories.-

You were currently sitting on the couch as you held Myla in your arms as she cooed sadly missing Maki presence as you were also recovering from the heavy laboured you endured days ago.

Maki's heart ached at the sound of Myla's cries. She desperately wanted to comfort her baby but she was currently occupied with making dinner and taking care of you,her wife. Guilt gnawed at her, feeling like she wasn't doing enough as a mother and spouse.

"I'm almost done cooking, sweetheart" Maki says to you . "How about we put on some music for the little one while we wait, hmm?" She reaches out and tousles her crying baby's hair gently, hoping to soothe her while she's preoccupied.

Maki noticed how exhausted and drained her wife looked. She went over to you and gently cupped your face in her hands, looking at you with concern. "Darling, are you sure you're alright? You look so tired," she says softly, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working so hard and you're still recovering - let me take care of you while you rest, okay?"

With utmost care, Maki helped you get situated in the bedroom and made sure you was comfortable. "You take it easy tonight" she whispers, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll take care of everything, okay? The baby, dinner, everything."

-While Myla had inherited Maki's brown eyes, her soft, fuzzy hair was a beautiful shade of (your hair color). From her button nose to her chubby cheeks, she was a beautiful baby that Maki and you adored wholeheartedly.-

As Maki held her baby, looking at her and feeling her small form against her own, she couldn't help but feel a swelling in her heart. This little life that she and her wife created together was the most precious thing in the world to her. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the love of her family.

Myla cooed softly, her little fingers grasping Maki's hair. Maki couldn't help but smile at the sight. She nuzzled her nose against her daughter's cheek, whispering quietly "I love you, little one. We created something amazing, you know that?"

🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧

Maki carried Myla into the kitchen, where her wife was sitting at the table, resting quietly. "Hey, look who I found" she said cheerfully, placing the baby in her wife's arms. "She was missing her mommy." Myla squealed happily at the sight of her mother, reaching out her tiny arms towards her. Maki sat down beside her, smiling at the sight of her little family.

as you were holding Myla she grabbed a fork shooked it,playing with it before dropping it on the ground looking at it "Myla..no bad thats' no good okay?" you said in your baby tone as you picked the fork but Myla dropped the knife instead giggling and you huffed

As Myla continued to play with the utensils, Maki couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like someone's got a taste for causing trouble" she said with a smile, watching as Myla dropped the knife onto the floor. But even though her antics were causing a mess, Maki couldn't help but find her adorable. "Looks like we've got a little rascal on our hands, eh?"

You looked at Maki with a scowl and when you were about to open your mouth to speak Myla took the glass and played with it and you immediately tried to stop her "Myla no no! give it to me baby"

As Myla reached for the glass, Maki quickly intervened. "No, no, sweetie" she said gently, taking the glass from her tiny hands. "We don't play with glass, okay? It could break and hurt us" She gently redirected Myla towards her toys, handing her a safer and more suitable item to play with instead.

Myla took the squeaky toy and threw it on the floor as it emitted tiny squeaks as it bounced on the pavement "oh she's angry" you said giggling

Maki couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Myla's antics. "Looks like someone's getting a bit feisty,eh?" she said with a smile. "But we need to teach her that throwing things isn't acceptable behavior. Let's try something else, shall we?" Maki offered Myla a soft plush toy instead, encouraging her to play with it more gently

-The plush was a Lion,called Maxy, formed by a round and soft red body,the limbs were soft ropes that ended with brown legs also soft filled with cotton with circles behind them reminiscent of the pads and the head was larger than the body,the mane was formed by long and short stripes that decorated it from behind while in front there was the lion's face formed by two black and small circles where below there was a soft and prominent muzzle with soft black truffle and with two other two circles at the end on the sides of the face which were the cheeks. Around his neck was a red bandana with the sheriff's coat of arms also decorated with a drawing of a miniature lion on a horse with dark brown lines finally it had a long tail formed by a long stripe that ended with a pompom for the tail-

But Myla cooed angry trowing it on the floor too "Oh no! you hurted your lion Myla" you cited poking her

Maki couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and mild exasperation at Myla's tantrum. She picked up the toy lion and held it up to her face, speaking in a playful tone. "Ah, what have you done, Myla? You've hurt your poor little Maxy. He's sad because you threw him on the ground." Maki shook the toy lion gently, as if it was protesting.

Myla's eyes widened at the sight of the toy lion being "upset". She reached out for it, her tiny fingers grasping at its soft fur. Maki playfully pulled it back, pretending to scold her. "No, no, no. Remember, we treat our toys with care. Apologize to your lion, baby."

Myla let out a tiny whimper as if she understood what was asked of her. She patted the toy lion gently, cooing softly as if apologies. She looked up at Maki, her eyes wide and innocent, as if asking for approval.

"i think Maxy forgived your action,right Maki?" you said looking at your wife as Myla whimpered trying to reach for her toy

Maki chuckled at the sight of Myla's pleading eyes, her little arms reaching for the toy. "I think you're right" she said with a smile, handing the toy back to Myla. "Looks like Maxy is feeling better now that you apologized. Just remember, we treat our toys gently, just like we treat each other gently, okay?"

"And speaking of Maxy…" Maki held up the lion toy once more, pretending to speak on his behalf. "He's feeling a bit sleepy. Should we put him down for a nap?" She made the toy yawn loudly, making Myla giggle in response. "I think that's a yes" Maki said with a wink, placing the toy in a nearby crib. Maki watched as Myla unsteadily made her way over to Maxy, her tiny feet stumbling and wobbling. She babbled happily as she reached for the toy Lion, her chubby hands grasping at the air. Maki couldn't help but smile at the adorable scene, her heart swelling with affection for her family. "Looks like Myla really loves Maxy" she said softly, gently guiding her baby to sit down next to the toy.

Myla grabbed Maxi before looking at her mum "oh i think she wants you to play with her"

Maki understood immediately what Myla wanted and her heart melted. She knelt down next to her daughter and the toy lion, happily joining in the game. "Alright, Myla, let's see what adventures Maxy has in store for us today" Maki said with a smile, embracing her daughter and the toy. The three of them played together, giggling and laughing as they pretended to go on imaginary journeys.

"Maxy is feeling hungry right now" Maki said in a playful voice, acting as if the toy was speaking. "Should, we feed him?" She looked at Myla, prompting her to respond. Myla's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she eagerly nodded her head, excited to continue the imaginative playtime. Maki then grabbed a small plush toy that represented some food and pretended to feed Maxy, making exaggerated feeding sounds. Myla followed suit, mimicking her mummy actions and giggling happily.

As they fed Maxy, they continued to create a world of make-believe around them. Maki described a vast jungle where Maxy the Lion lived, and they even incorporated other toys into the game, each one playing a unique role. They danced, sang, and made up stories while Maxy looked on, his plush form serving as the center of their imaginative world.

As the game continued, their laughter echoed throughout the room, filling the air with joy and affection. It was moments like these that made parenthood truly special, where even the simplest activities could become magical experiences shared between parent and child. Maki and her family played with Maxy for hours, lost in their world of make-believe, until finally, it was time for Myla to rest.

"You tired Myla?" you asked kneeling in beetween your wife and her

Myla yawned, her tiny eyelids drooping with exhaustion, signaling that she was indeed ready for a nap. Maki scooped her up gently, cradling her close as she began to hum a gentle lullaby. Together, the two of you sang softly,your voices blending together in a soothing melody that lulled Myla into a peaceful slumber. Maki laid her down in her crib, tucked her in, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"here sweetie" You said placing Maxy near her side "goodnight sweetie"

Myla clutched Maxy tightly as she drifted off to sleep, her little chest rising and falling with each breath. Maki watched as her daughter slept peacefully, her heart overflowing with love and contentment. She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

"We did good today" Maki said softly, turning to look at you "Our little girl is growing up so fast, and I can't help but feel so proud and grateful for the life we've built together."

The room was quiet and still, filled only with the steady sound of Myla's breathing and the gentle beats of your hearts. In that moment, you found yourselves deeply content, feeling grateful for each other and the beautiful family you had created. Together, you savored the silence, knowing that it wouldn't last long come morning.

"sleepy" You cooed cutely snuggling your face into Maki neck

Maki chuckled softly at your adorable behavior. She reached up and gently combed her fingers through your hair, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "You're such a snuggle bug" she said affectionately "But I suppose it's time we get some sleep ourselves."

"Uppies" you cooed pouting opening your arms as asking to get carried

Maki couldn't help but melt at your endearing request. She scooped you up in her strong embrace without hesitation, cradling you close against her chest. "I've got you, my love" she whispered, peppering your face with tiny kisses as she carried you to the bed.

As you reached the bed, Maki gently placed you down on the soft mattress, tucking you both in together. She wrapped her arms around you and held you close, your bodies intertwined, finding comfort and warmth in each other's presence. The rhythmic rise and fall of yourr breaths synced as you laid there, drifting off to a peaceful slumber, content and fulfilled in each other's arms

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[richarlotte]

Someone else you admire?

My good friend Twilly went to uni at 16 for PoliSci, Philosophy, and French, faithfully saved to be able to attend PFW every year for four years and to take the Eurail around Europe, and she’s graduating and moving to Europe to start grad school next year. I visited her at McGill when we were both around 19, and I was blown away by how much she’d been able to accomplish in the six months since I’d last seen her.

 

Twill is chic, totally carefree, cool, Congolese, and never too much. She’s found ways to study internationally for most of her life; she wrote a fashion magazine in high school; her music taste and humor are impeccable; and she’s got the bookshelf of my daydreams. T ran a small style, fashion, and lifestyle zine called “The Ambassador’s Wife” for the longest time, and the yearly zine perfectly captured the life I want to lead one day. She has such an eye for detail and has studied aesthetics and art in such depth.

 

She’s a chef, she jokes that she’s a bit of a literary dilettante but she’s far from it, she’s an artist, and she’s a dancer and actress. Twilly is the definition of a cool girl; it comes naturally to her. She’s adventurous and exotic without ever seeming like she’s trying too hard; she’s intelligent, cosmopolitan, inquisitive, and really extraordinary. She’s always told me that there’s something to be said about living life without the need for constant approval, and she’s right—there is.

 

People don’t just want to know Twilly; they want to be around her and have her in their lives. She’s magnetic and can make the worst of times seem like the best. She’d toss her hair over her shoulder and joke about spending too much time watching Anthony Bourdain, but she’s the sort of person who strays off the beaten track, comes back with stories, and has experiences that make you want to follow her the next time she goes. It’s hard to be the queen of the Irish goodbye when everyone wants you to stay, but she manages. 

 

There was a summer where she broke her phone and had to make do with a flip phone and her digital camera, so as she traveled, she’d write her address on the back of a spare photo she’d printed and distribute them to anyone she wanted to stay in contact with. She returned home to dozens of her photos mailed back to her and had to send off hundreds of texts and emails to get back in contact with everyone she’d met.

 

I admire her immensely and believe her to be one of the most consistent people in my life. We’ve known each other for years, watched each other grow, and leaned on each other. I faithfully send updates and advice, and she keeps me up to date with the major fashion houses she follows. It can be difficult to make high quality friends that mature with you as you grow up, so I think I'm especially lucky to have someone so likeminded and understanding in my life as one of my closest girls.

[jealousmartini]

KPOP DR INTRODUCTION

Old opening intro:

" Don't freak out! We are O.M.G! "

New opening intro:

" 6 friends and a dream! We are O.M.G "

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[ # 000 :: O.M.G's ORIGIN STORY ] small print

O.M.G, is an originally animated six-member girl group created in late 2013 by Lucia Martinez, or better known as "Keisha" from her character in O.M.G, under her youtube channel "Envious Martini" accompanied by her 5 other girlfriends for fun. They would post a lot of vlogs, grwm (get ready with me's), mukbangs, reaction/commentary, and livestreams, of course, none of these posts were ever serious. And a lot of their videos would be clipped to be used as memes that would instantly catch fire, and their faces would soon be very recognisable. In fact It wouldnt even take long for O.M.G to earn a lot of attention from Korean and Western K-POP fans when "Molly (claimed song!! playboi carti)", which is a scrap unreleased track by the way, would randomly go viral at 2.3 million views on youtube and Envious martini would begin to grow a humble following of 430K followers for their music, art and shitposts.

All music production, concepts, and choreography were created by Keisha with the help of the 5 girls behind the scenes. For example, in order for Keisha to be able to animate the choreography, the girls would make dance routines together, figuring out positions and record it for Keisha to take as reference. This also went for vocals and rapping. All girls played their parts accordingly to how they felt comfortable and were suitable to each member. And then it would be in mid-June of 2014 that the girls would decide to bring Keisha's art to life and replace the characters of O.M.G with themselves.

And in 2015, after being invited to many interviews and talk shows and entering many survival shows and competitions, it would be one competition show in particular, held by JYP which O.M.G would win, where they would officially be adopted under JYP entertainment and debut as a JYP girl group in the same year. But it wasn't until 2016 after much debate surrounding the group that O.M.G. was finally recognised and accepted as a KPOP group.

[ # 001 :: ALBUMS ]

[ disclaimer!! claimed songs are highlighted, and said songs most likely sound slightly different in my dr because of personal taste.]

Core genres :: KPOP, EDM, JERSEY CLUB, POP-ROCK, SYNTH, ELECTRO-POP, CONTEMPORARY R&B

Core aesthetics/concepts :: GIRL CRUSH, Chaotic academia core, Y2K, Girl-next-door

Themes :: Teenage years/Nostalgia, Self discovery, Love/self love, Random stuff

(2013) Mini album 1 :: Superstitious

Tracklist :: "track no.1", "track no.2", "track no.3"

(2014) Mini album 2 :: Lawfully Wedded Wives

Tracklist :: "What's your number", "Molly", "Greedy hearts", "girls never die", "heaven sent", "kinda miss you rn"

(2015) Debut Album :: Oh My Gosh

Tracklist :: "OMG", "Magnetic", "Ditto", "Lucky girl syndrome", "Dalla Dalla", "Woo! Ah!", "ETA"

Debut song :: Ditto

(2016) 1st Single :: Princess Sickness

(2017) 2nd Album :: New Region

Tracklist :: "La di da", "Supernova", "Crush", "life on Mars" , "JOYRIDE",

(2017) 3rd Album :: GINXED

Tracklist :: "Girls on wings", "LOOP", "Serotonin", "WOW", "Bitternes, the disease", "Yes, and?", "Charmed", "LOVE DIVE", "Accendio"

(2019) 4th Album :: Hopscotch

Tracklist :: "Six of em", "1 on 1", "Now what", "Super mario", "Jersey Girls", "Sir mix a lot", more to come...

(2019) 5th Album :: Joyride

Tracklist :: "Insidious", "It's my turn now", "Trance", "met her on the internet", more to come...

(2021) 6th Album :: TOTALLY MAXED OUT

Tracklist :: "I'm your magical girl", more to more...

[ # 002 :: SOLO PROJECTS ]

(2019) Debut Solo Single :: "Make way"

(2021) 1st Solo mini Collection :: Come again?

Tracklist :: "It's my turn now", "He ate my heart", "WTF?"

(2023) 4th Solo Single :: "My Chemical Romance feat. Megan the Stallion"

(2024) 5th Solo Single :: "ABCD feat. NAYEON"

(2024) 6th Solo Single :: "Boohoo"

(2024) 7th Solo Single :: "New Woman feat. CHAE KYUNG"

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╭╔═════════════♱═════════════╗

[ # 000 :: BASIC INFO ]

Date of DR :: ??/04/2017

Name :: Lucia R. Martinez

korean birthname :: Hwang Chae-Kyung

adopted name :: Lovely adopted surname

nicknames :: Kyu, Kyungie, Keish/Keesh, Chae-Bae, Vivi

Stage name :: Keisha/Kyu

Title names :: THAT girl, Mother Rabbit, Millionaire Maknae, KPOP's Princess, KPOP's Darling, KPOP's first Black Idol, KPOP'S secret ACE, KPOP's curly head, KPOP's BEYONCE

Positions :: Producer, Main/lead singer, main dancer, sub rapper, visuals, maknae, center maybe??

Date of birth : 20 / 06 / 1997

Age :: 19

Hobbies :: Music production, drawing, dancing, singing, baking, gaming

Languages :: English, Korean, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin Chinese

Ethnicity :: half puerto rican, half korean

Representative animal :: red panda / puppy / Bunny (I can't choose rn guys)

Representative colour :: orange

Representative dessert :: cookies and brownies

Fanbase name :: charmings

Training period :: ?? months

Company :: JYP

Group representative colours :: Blue and Pink

Brands :: Vivian Westwood, Diesel, Juicy Couture

[ # 001 :: FUN FACTS ]

She is older than Jungkook by 4 months. He knows this but still chooses to not use honorifics sometimes.

She is close friends with NAYEON, Sana, Chaeyoung, YOONGI, JIMIN, JUNGKOOK, Namjoon, J-hope, TAEHYUNG, Jin, BANGCHAN, Felix, Hyunjin, YUNA, Jennie, Jisoo, Tsuyu, WONYOUNG, YUJIN,

No one knows this yet but she has a crush on 6 of the idols listed and 2 of the highlighted names are part of the six, the other 4 are not

The red panda is her animal representative because there was a video circulating of her dressed up as a mascot for her highschool as a red panda and break-dancing

Speaking of dancing, she has mastered multiple dancing styles like house, vogue, street dancing, belly dancing, Jazz, Latin, Club, Jersey and Freestyle. She's got her own signature groove 💃🏾 🕺

She is the first kpop idol to be the ambassador for Vivian Westwood, Juicy Couture and Diesel

[ # 002 :: CONTROVERSIES AND SCANDALS ]

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