#i just want to feel important to someone you know?

[merrinla]

More finds in the cut content. What's interesting is that this is post-game content. I don't know if these are pieces of DLC or an extended epilogue. Rook and Lucanis drink wine in a gondola. In one version, Lucanis refused to be First Talon and left the crows. The Viper arrives to Treviso to hire Lucanis to kill the local Venatori. The lines in the localization file are out of order. I've organized them as best I could, but I'm not sure if everything is correct.

The gondola scene

Rook: What are we celebrating? Revenge? Saving the world? Lucanis: How about a quiet moment? Rook: Is it quiet? Really? Lucanis: If it's not quiet, it's at least clear.

Option: If only the Antaam were gone. Rook: Treviso's beautiful. Too bad it's filled with Antaam.

Option: You're surprisingly romantic. Rook: Who knew you were a romantic? Lucanis: You bring it out in me. Rook: Yeah, yeah. I'm a bad influence.

Option: Let's not go back. Rook: Let's stay here forever. Lucanis: A little. Not forever.

Rook: What? No fancy glasses? Lucanis: That's Caterina's style. I'm more pragmatic. Lucanis: Well, more pragmatic than her anyway.

Option: Learn from your elders. Rook: There's nothing wrong with a bit of class. Lucanis: (Chuckles) I'll remember for next time. Rook: Oh yes. This is so pragmatic. Lucanis: I know.

Option: Casual's better. Rook: Less clean up. Rook: That's why we're having drinks in a gondola instead of the kitchen. Lucanis: Knew you'd understand.

Lucanis: Is it wrong? Enjoying ourselves while the Antaam terrorize our home... (Crow Origin) Lucanis: Is it wrong? Enjoying ourselves while the Antaam terrorize Antiva... Rook: Does it feel wrong?

(apparently Rook moved, causing the boat to rock.) Lucanis: Careful. Gondolas are more fashionable than they are stable. Rook: They're plenty sturdy. Rook: See. Nothing to— Rook: Oops? Lucanis: You were saying? Rook: Sorry. Lucanis: (Chuckles) Classic Rook. Rook: I've made things awkward. Lucanis: I like this side of you. Lucanis: More wine? Rook: I saved the wine? Lucanis: (Laughs)

(Talon's version) Rook: How are you settling in as First Talon? Lucanis: There was some initial... friction with Caterina, but she got over it. Lucanis: She thought I'd do things her way and was surprised when I had my own ideas. Rook: Really? You'd think she'd be the most welcoming. Lucanis: No.

Rook: Have you spoken to Caterina or the others? Lucanis: Letters here and there. We haven't met since the party. Lucanis: I don't want to cut ties. Lucanis: But Caterina needs to get used to the fact that I'm no longer her heir. Rook: Are you used to it? Lucanis: I was never comfortable with the role to begin with. Rook: So, no regrets? Lucanis: (Sigh) Rook: It's a yes or no question, Lucanis. Lucanis: It's not. You've enough experience with regret to know that.

Rook: I respect your decision to walk away. Lucanis: It wasn't an easy decision. Lucanis: It was hard. Walking away. Rook: It was hard watching it. Lucanis: Let's not talk about me.

Rook: It's not an interrogation if you care. Lucanis: Why not? I've been thoroughly interrogated. Rook: (Snorts) Is that how it works?

Option: Your priorities have changed. Rook: You've changed your tune. Lucanis: I am. On what's important.

Lucanis: Rook. I owe you. For my life, my freedom.

Option: Consider it paid in full. Rook: That debt was paid when you helped us defeat the elven gods. Lucanis: No. That was a job. What you've done for me...

Option: I needed a mage killer. Rook: I had selfish reasons. Lucanis: Rook. I'm serious. Lucanis: Whatever your reasons...

Lucanis: The Venatori killed the man I was. Lucanis: You put the fight—the life—back into me. Rook: I... Thanks.

Lucanis: If you need someone taken care of... Just say the word. Lucanis: Your enemies are House Dellamorte's enemies. (Talon's line) Lucanis: Your enemies are my enemies.

Option: You make murder sound sweet. Rook: Awww. That's sweet. And scary. Lucanis: Of course those are the same thing to you. Rook: I was only teasing. Lucanis: How am I supposed to argue when you say things like that?

Option: I'll settle for friendship. Rook: Or we could just be friends? No killing required. Rook: I still care about you—as a friend. Lucanis: Didn't want you to get the wrong idea... Lucanis: We're still friends. Lucanis: If that's what you want... Rook: Appreciate it.

(non romance/friendship version?) Rook: Oh, I'm aware. Just haven't figured out what I want in return. Lucanis: (Chuckles) Lucanis: For a price. Rook: And you'll charge me... Lucanis: Like I said—a fair rate. (Talon's line) Lucanis: I'm not a Crow anymore. Rates are negotiable. Rook: Still sounds pretty Crow-y to me.

Rook: It's passed sundown. Lucanis: (Sighs) Rook: Time to go? Lucanis: I've business before we return. Rook: What kind of business? Lucanis: Competitive analysis.

Lucanis: Don't worry. I'll collect. Rook: Fun time over? Lucanis: I've business before we return. Rook: What kind of business? Lucanis: Competitive analysis.

Possibly lines from a subsequent quest.

Rook: Business at a Chantry. Not very Andrastian of you. Lucanis: What in our experience together makes you think I'm a good Andrastian? Rook: (Chuckles) Fair enough.

Rook: You sound like you have a plan. Lucanis: Always another mark. Rook: I take it the Antaam are the subject of this so-called analysis? Rook: Why do I get the feeling there's going to be less "analysis" and more stabby-stab? Lucanis: Keeps Wrath content. (Wrath is Spite's previous name?)

Lucanis: Viago said it'd be a fitting spot. Rook: You've proven it's a good spot for an ambush. Rook: And you're loud. Which do you think will attract the Antaam?

Meeting with Ashur. It seems as if Lucanis and the Viper were discussing their business, and then Rook came.

The Viper: If you don't trust my intel— Lucanis: I trust your intel and... Lucanis: Fortunate the Rook is here to save the day. Rook: The Rook can detect sarcasm!

Option: Ashur, you shouldn't be here. Rook: This isn't Minrathous. Rook: Ashur, if the Antaam find out you're here... The Viper: I've paid the right people so that they don't.

Option: You two make quite the pair. Rook: The Viper and the Demon. Sounds like a nursery rhyme to scare children.

The Viper: I was just leaving. Rook: Leaving so soon? Rook: You don't have to. Lucanis and I could show you the sights. Rook: There's wine tasting, Antaam assassinating, gambling— Lucanis: Rook. The Viper: You're ruining Rook's fun. Rook: Think about my offer.

The Viper: Should I pay now or— Lucanis: Just go.

Rook: What did he want? Lucanis: Some of us have work to do. Lucanis: It's about time I take care of things at home.

Rook: Who's the mark? Lucanis: Venatori who fled Minrathous after Elgar'nan's fall. Rook: That's why Ashur was here. Lucanis: He's the one who hired me to dismantle the Venatori in the first place. Lucanis: Might as well finish the job.

The most unclear part. Maybe it's related to the quest to kill the Venatori that Viper pointed out.

Rook: Can't take the huge door. Lucanis: The Venatori are inside. Strike from above and we'll take them by surprise. Rook: Above, eh? Rook: Good thing I'm not afraid of heights.

Rook: Not sure why Antivans even build doors. Rook: We never use them. (Crow Origin) Rook: You never use them. Lucanis: We're the Antivan-fucking-Crows.

Rook: We need to be cautious. Rook: If we're not careful, he'll kill the girl. Lucanis: Not if he's dead.

Lucanis: Focus on the self-important bastard. I'll take care of the rest. Rook: They're all self-important—and why do you get so many? Lucanis: Their predictability makes them easy targets.

Venatori: Two, four, six piggies come to slaughter. Venatori: Be grateful. Your meager existence will serve a higher cause. Rook: I'll show you a higher cause right up your— Venatori: (Grunts!) Venatori: Uh—God killer! Right he— Lucanis: Mage killer. Venatori: (Yells in pain) Rook: Lucanis! That's cheating! Lucanis!

Lucanis: Fucking Venatori. Rook: (Sigh) You can take the blood mages out of Minrathous, but…

[moonlightwritingf1]

Between Goodbyes and Forevers | LN4

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando has to leave to prepare for the new season, and Y/N is super sad and clingy. He comforts her, and they have emotional goodbye sex.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.6k

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex,

Based on this request.

Y/N’s apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside her floor-to-ceiling windows. The evening was winding down, but her mind was anything but calm. Lando lounged on her sofa, one arm draped casually over the back, his signature smirk playing on his lips. He’d been teasing her all night, his words light and playful, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made her heart race.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he remarked, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence. His gaze lingered on her, and she felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny.

“Just tired,” Y/N lied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Tired didn’t even begin to cover it. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Lando was leaving tomorrow, heading back to Monaco to prepare for the new Formula One season. She’d known this was coming, but now that the moment was here, it felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.

“Bullshit,” Lando said with a chuckle, leaning forward slightly. His eyes narrowed, and that smirk turned into a knowing grin. “You’ve been clingy all evening. Not that I’m complaining,” he added, his tone softening.

“I haven’t been clingy,” Y/N retorted, though her voice lacked conviction. She hated how easily he saw through her.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been glued to my side all night. Even when I went to grab a drink, you followed me like a lost puppy.”

She opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it. He wasn’t wrong. She had been clingy, and she hated herself for it. She didn’t want to seem desperate or needy, but the thought of him leaving made her stomach churn.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, looking down at her hands. “I just… I’m really going to miss you.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he moved closer to her on the sofa. His hand found hers, intertwining their fingers. “I’m going to miss you too, you know. More than I can say.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made her breath catch. For someone who was always so carefree and teasing, Lando had a way of making her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

“You’ll call me, right?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Every day,” he promised, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. “And I’ll FaceTime you after every race. You’ll be sick of me by the end of the season.”

Y/N managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She wanted to believe him, but there was a part of her that was terrified he’d forget about her. That she’d be just another girl he left behind.

Lando must have sensed her unease because he leaned in closer, his free hand cupping her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice like a warm blanket wrapping around her. “You’re not just some girl, Y/n. You’re everything to me. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She hated how vulnerable she felt around him, but at the same time, she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “What if… what if you meet someone else? Someone prettier, someone more….”

“Stop,” Lando interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. He tilted her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes. “There’s no one else. There’s only you. Always you.”

His words were like a balm to her insecurities, but they weren’t enough to completely erase the doubt gnawing at her. Before she could say anything else, Lando leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was soft and sweet, but there was an underlying passion that made her pulse quicken.

When he pulled away, she was breathless, her lips tingling from the contact. “I’m not letting you go, Y/N,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Not now, not ever.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel the heat pooling in her lower stomach. She wanted to believe him, to trust him completely, but it was hard. Harder than she’d ever admit.

“I love you,” she blurted out, the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them.

Lando froze for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face, lighting up his features. “I love you too,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “More than anything.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Before she could overthink it, she leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency.

Lando responded immediately, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that mirrored her own, and she could feel the heat between them growing with every passing second.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their chests rising and fallings rapidly. Lando’s eyes were filled with desire, and Y/n could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

Lando didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands trailing down her sides to the hem of her shirt. He pulled it off slowly, his touch soft and deliberate.

Y/N bit her lip, her insecurities bubbling to the surface. She was so used to hiding her body, to covering up the parts of herself she didn’t like. But the way Lando looked at her made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

His hands moved to her bra, and she tensed slightly. “Lando, I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his voice soothing. “I love every inch of you, Y/n. Every scar, every curve. You’re perfect to me.”

His words melted her fears, and she relaxed as he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. His eyes roamed over her body, and she could see the hunger in them. It made her feel powerful, desired.

Lando leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone before trailing his lips lower. His tongue flicked over her nipple, and she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

“Lando,” she moaned, her hands tangling in his hair.

He continued to tease her, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive her wild. She could feel the heat building inside her, her body trembling with need.

When he finally pulled away, she was a wreck, her chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes met hers, and there was a fire in them that made her stomach flip.

“I need you,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible.

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. He stripped off his clothes quickly, his eyes never leaving hers. When he finally joined her on the bed, she could feel the heat of his skin against hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

His lips found hers again, and he kissed her deeply, his hands roaming over her body. Every touch, every kiss, was slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment.

He hovered above her, his weight pressing into the mattress, his breath warm and ragged against her skin. His fingers traced the curve of her hip, sending shivers up her spine. With a gentleness that made her chest tighten, he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of him brushing against her, teasing, testing.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening, lips parted in a silent plea. Lando didn’t break eye contact as he slowly pressed into her, inch by inch. The stretch burned just enough to make her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to him. He paused there, buried deep, letting her feel the full weight of him, the way their bodies fit together like they were made for this, for each other.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost pained. His jaw clenched, his forehead falling against hers as he struggled to hold still. “You’re so tight... so goddamn perfect.”

She could feel every pulse of him inside her, the heat of his skin searing into hers. Her muscles clenched around him instinctively, drawing a low groan from his throat. It was overwhelming, the fullness, the intensity of it all. She felt owned, claimed, but not in a way that scared her. In a way that made her heart swell, as if this was where she was always meant to be.

Lando began to move then—slow, deliberate thrusts that made her head spin. Each stroke dragged against her walls, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She arched into him, her legs wrapping tighter around his hips, urging him deeper, faster. But he kept his pace unhurried, his lips painting a trail of heat along her neck, her collarbone, anywhere his mouth could reach.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, pulling back just enough to cup her face in his hand. Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. There was so much in those eyes—lust, yes, but something else too, something deeper. Something that made her chest ache with how much she felt for him.

She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the dampness of his skin. “I love you,” she whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret, a promise.

His breath caught, and he pressed his forehead against hers again, his thrusts faltering just for a moment. “I love you,” he breathed back, the words raw, unfiltered. And then he kissed her—deep, consuming, as if he could pour everything he felt through that one connection.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

She nodded, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Always.”

Their bodies moved together in a rhythm so deliberate, so unhurried, it felt like time itself had slowed. Every deep, calculated thrust was more than physical; it was a conversation, a language only they spoke. Lando’s hips rolled into hers with an almost unbearable precision, every stroke dragging against her inner walls in a way that left her gasping, her nails carving faint crescents into his back.

She could feel the fullness of him stretching her, the way he filled every inch of her impossibly tight heat. The friction was torturous and exquisite all at once, a slow burn that coiled low in her belly, building with every movement. He leaned back slightly, supporting himself on one arm, his free hand roaming down her side to grip her hip. His fingers dug in just enough to anchor her, pulling her closer as he drove deeper, their bodies slapping together in a wet, dizzying rhythm.

“Look at me,” he said again, his voice rough, strained. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and the intensity there stole her breath. His pupils were blown wide, filled with desire and love.

She reached up, her fingers trembling as they traced the damp line of his jaw, the stubble scratching her fingertips. “Lando...” she whispered, her voice breaking halfway. It wasn’t a plea or a demand; it was a confession, a surrender.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he bent his head, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that swallowed her moans whole. His tongue slid against hers, hot and demanding, mirroring the relentless pace of his hips. She could taste the desperation in him, the way he clung to her as though she might slip away.

And then his hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit in one fluid motion. She arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from her throat as he pressed firm circles there, the pressure exact and unrelenting. Her thighs clamped around his waist, her body tightening around him in waves that had him groaning into her mouth.

“Fuck, you feel... too good,” he rasped, his thrusts growing uneven, faltering as he lost control. His forehead dropped to hers, their breaths mingling, sweat-slick and frantic. “Y/n, I—”

She cut him off with a whimper, her orgasm crashing over her without warning, stealing her ability to think, to breathe. Her vision blurred, her body shuddering as pleasure ripped through her, sharp and all-consuming. And still he kept moving, dragging out her climax until tears pricked her eyes.

Her name fell from his lips again, this time a choked sound, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hips jerked sharply, once, twice, before he buried himself deep, his release spilling into her in thick, pulsing waves. He collapsed onto her, his weight heavy and warm, their chests heaving in unison.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the two of them, tangled together, heartbeats syncing as they came down from the high.

Lando’s fingers traced the curve of her jawline, his touch feather-light, as if memorizing every detail of her face. His lips pressed against her forehead, lingering there, soft and unhurried. The warmth of his breath against her skin sent a shiver through her, and she nestled closer, her arms tugging his tighter around her. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest, grounding her, anchoring her to this moment.

“I’m going to miss you,” Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, like a secret she couldn’t hold in anymore. Her breath hitched, the weight of his impending departure pressing heavily on her chest. “So much.”

Lando’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her temple in a lingering kiss. “I’m going to miss you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Every second I’m away from you will feel like a lifetime.”

She tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes searching his face. The intensity in his gaze held her captive, his eyes filled with a love that made her chest ache. “Promise me,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, “that you’ll come back to me.”

“Always,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the ache in it. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync. “You’re my home, Y/n. No matter where I am, I’ll always come back to you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her lips curving into a small, radiant smile. “I love you,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions.

“I love you more,” he replied, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. “More than I’ve ever loved anything.”

Her eyelashes fluttered shut as she leaned into him, her body melting against his. In his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and utterly loved. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, holding onto each other as if nothing else mattered. The warmth of his embrace, the softness of his touch, the depth of his love— it was all she needed, all she ever wanted.

And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet stillness of the night, Y/n knew, without a doubt, that no matter the distance, no matter the time, he would always be hers. And she would always be his.

[cargopantsman]

I'm going to say that the critics do have to review the marvel movies the same way any of us should be reviewing the tomato pictures being hung in a subway restaurant.

And I'm going to put Duchamp's "Fountain" here to stall.

Marvel movies have become drivel. The initial rollout series had a level of honesty behind the writing that probably most of us could say we genuinely enjoyed the first Iron Man, the Ed Norton Hulk, or even the first Captain America.

The value of critiquing these films comes in seeing what happens when an overwhelmingly corporate agenda comes into play.

Like... you can't say Black Pather was a Bad Movie (as long as you kinda know what's going one [which is a critique in itself]), but with many themes and points in the MCU, a solid point is struck on a hollow anvil.

So any good story-telling is going to be overshadowed by this monolithic shadow of the studio trying to maximize gains, even when the heart of those stories (going back to the golden age comics) generally balk at the concept.

Is the MCU a good story-telling platform? No... Prachett's Discworld handled any given "nobody" wandering in and at least catching on to what is important better than Marvel ever, whether in movies or comics, could ever let someone wander in.

Does the MCU tell good stories?... yeah. They do. And there's a pivot where if you don't care (or aren't obsessively compelled) for context, the movies can kinda be one-offs.

But there's a critique right there...

Because the MCU relies on the US Department of Defense for so much of it's infrastructure, we have to criticize the films for bowing to the state in ways that the actual comic characters wouldn't.

We have to criticize the WWII era super-soldier as an allegory for the Greatest Generation and watch him support the next fascist power. (Winter Soldier fans calm down, I'm playing the Man out of Time angle here.)

But also Iron Man/Tony Stark being the billionaire playboy the Muskovites tried to pretend their boy wonder being a legitimate actor in global diplomacy. Part of critiquing the MCU is the fact that the amount of resources Tony spent in spiffying up his power armor probably could saved thousads of more lives in setting up supply chains and resource distribution that in making the next better Jarvis/Power Armor combo.

Now you're thinking "jesus cargo what the fuck are you going on about?"

but look at that tomato picture, look at that sharp chopped iceberg lettuce.

it's a wall decoration. but it's a wall decoration as you come into the subway. it's meant to make you feel like you're making a healthy decision.

there's a mcdonald's next door but you chose the subway. A BigMac with fries might just be another DC Batman movie. It's familiar, you bite in, knowing that you have to see Bruce's parents die, again. But it's a familar taste. It get's you through the day.

the subway... it's fresh. that's what it tells you at least. the pictures on the wall say so. (not, now that you think of it, that mcdonalds comes off as rotted) and you pick and choose the ingredients you want (i could see Black Panther but I'll choose to see Captain America again) [this is choosing the turkey and mayo on white bread option]

And the turkey with mayo on white bread miggt be tasty enough for you... but probably not for any one else...

but thinking you went with subway makes you better than the mcdonald's crowd is gonna bring up some issues (most likely by your general practitioner)

and neither is inherently better or worse then the other.

as long as you fucking think about what you are feeling and doing.

it's all just a urinal in an art gallery.

[seungcheorry]

seokmin isn't that petty or childish. he knows you two have a full adult, functional life and that sometimes things get in between. he can fully understand that.

still, he can't help the pout that's on his lips or how he's frowning or how his arms are crossed, making him look like a toddler.

"i mean...", he says for the nth time. "it could be just a few hours, you know?"

you sigh, adjusting your phone so he can see you clearly. "i know, babe. but i really, really can't. i'm sorry. i promise i'm all yours this weekend."

"but my birthday is tomorrow, not on the weekend", he rolls his eyes, sighing too.

truth be told, seokmin doesn't know why he's so upset about not being able to see you on his birthday. sure, it sucks to not see someone you love and care so deeply, such as your partner, on such an important day - but again, he gets that you have to work. he understands that you can't just move your schedule around; hell, not even him can do it.

but it sucks. it just sucks and he can't help it.

"i'm sorryyyy", you say once again, slightly smiling at his sad face. "you're not even in korea right now, i don't know why you're doing this."

"ya, i'll be there tomorrow morning!", seokmin points a finger at you, holding back his laugh. "YOU could just come and see me at the airport, i can get my manager to sneak you in somehow, and then you can go to your office."

"my boss asked me to come in earlier tomorrow", you shrug.

"okay, so...", he thinks for a bit. "i can go meet you up so we can have lunch together."

"i've packed my lunch already."

"pack one for me too."

"there's not enough food", you shake your head.

seokmin groans. "okay, now you're just being mean. why don't you want to see me~?"

you fake cry, staring up at the ceiling, ready to punch your phone.

"babe, i told you, i'll just be busy..."

"nah, i did something, didn't i? you hate me!"

"i don't hate you, seokmin, i just-"

"then let's at least have dinner tomorrow night, you know mingyu and joshua wouldn't mind you coming."

"SEOKMIN!", you almost scream, making him shut up. "please stop finding a way for us to see each other tomorrow, don't make me tell you i've been planning a surprise party for you since christmas, a party you won't have if you keep annoying me."

and, just like a toddler, his eyes light up.

"oh my god, you did not!", he squeals like a little girl, his eyes and smile wide as they could be. "for real? like, are you really for real right now?"

when you nod, seokmin kicks his feet in the air, throwing his head back.

"baby, you didn't have to! oh my god, i've never had a surprise party before, should i act surprised? should i prank everyone and pretend to pass out? what are you gonna wear? we could match and-"

and so he goes, excited like a toddler - not like a guy who's about to turn 28 years old.

a/n: happy birthday to the light of my life, mr. lee seokmin. may you always he happy, always have this smile of yours, always feel loved and adored. thank you for making me smile and laugh, it means so much to me and my healing heart. i love you, dokyeomie. ❤️🍒

[captain-huggy-bear]

How does Jack ask you to be his valentine ?

Oh he's a sweetheart but also pretty conventional as well. I think he goes with your standard ideas of flowers, and chocolates, probably turning up at your door on the day itself because that's traditional and he just smirks and asks. The sort of lazy confidence in him that says he knows you're going to say yes, that it would be impossible for you to say no.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

It's still new, this thing you have with Jack, early days as it were. Not quite boyfriend and girlfriend yet, but not just two strangers who've been on a singular date either. Talking wasn't the right term and dating was maybe closer to it, figuring out whether this was going to be something long term or just a drop in the ocean. So you didn't really expect anything from him on Valentine's day, especially not when he'd said he had a game that night and wouldn't be able to take you out in the evening like he wanted to. You'd accepted that because at the end of the day you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to the very first date with him. Hockey meant things wouldn't always go as expected, not all events would be commemorated. It also wasn't a given considering the early nature of your relationship.

It's why you're not expecting it when your front door bell rings and you're certainly not expect to look through your peephole to see Jack Hughes standing on the other side in a suit and tie holding what might be the largest bouquet of pink roses you'd ever seen. So large that they'd block out his entire head and shoulders if he held them upright.

"Jack?" You open the door to him, feeling decidedly underdressed in your casual everyday clothes when compared with Jack and his suit. The black one that he's matched with a black tie like he's going to a formal event rather than standing in front of your house on the 14th February in the cold.

"Hey..." The smile he gives you is nearly a smirk, that confidence that first drew you to him, firmly in place. His hair has grown longer at the moment, nearly reaching his shoulders, tucked behind his ears.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the rink for morning skate...?"

"Already been, decided this was more important than my post practice nap." It makes you feel warm all over, the way he says that so easily, like it's a given that seeing you is more important than his routines and rituals, things you know hockey players hold dear to their hearts.

"Oh?"

"Here," He hands you the bouquet that takes up your entire arm space, larger than a toddler and smelling sweetly of rose. He'd picked the scented roses, ones that smell strongly too a little detail that you can't help but take note of. "I picked the pink ones, thought it'd be a little less cliché."

You can't help the soft smile you give him because it really is sweet and unexpected. More romantic than any of your past boyfriends had ever been and he's not even in a relationship with you yet.

"They're lovely, Jack...you really didn't have to..." You feel bad knowing you hadn't expected anything and so hadn't got anything for him.

"I wanted to. I can't exactly ask you to be my valentine without flowers now, can I, angel?" Your positive reception of the flowers has him relaxing further, a smile turning into a smirk, leaning closer to you, arm leaning against your door frame. The invasion of your personal space makes you nervous in the best sort of way, giddy.

"You want to be my valentine?" You can't actually remember the last time you were actually asked to be someone's valentine...it makes butterflies flutter about in your stomach.

"Sweetheart, who else would I ask?"

You shrug, pursing your lips as you look up at him from under your lashes, all of a sudden unsure and lacking confidence because neither of you ever said you were only seeing each other. That you were exclusive. While you certainly weren't seeing any other guys, it would make sense for someone like Jack, popular and famous, to have a whole roster of girls waiting on him. It wouldn't surprise you if he had other girls he was testing the waters with, figuring out who was the best fit.

He seems to sense that your thoughts have gone that way, or maybe he just has good timing.

"You're the only girl I'm seeing and the only one I want to see, angel...I've not gone on a date with anyone else since before our first one." He doesn't like that it's clearly shocking to you, the way you look up him like he's just given you the world. Jack thinks it should be obvious to you that he's all in, that he's completely taken with you and has been since the first date. He's only waiting to ask you to be his girlfriend because he knows you need a little more time, not because he's not ready or doesn't want to.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Why waste my time with anyone else? They wouldn't be you." It's simply really. You're perfect for him. You're kind, you're caring, pretty and smart. You're understanding of his schedule and his moods. You get along with Luke and you treat him like Jack, just Jack. Not Jack Hughes, hockey superstar. Why waste his time on girls who fawn and giggle over his title, his status but don't really like him for him?

"Jack..."

He diffuses some of the heavy tension with his next question, not wanting to make things too serious too fast, not wanting you to feel pressure to respond in kind, "You still haven't answered my question. Will you be my valentine?"

"Yes, I'll be your valentine." You smile up at him all giddy and sweet and he wants to kiss you all over your cheeks, lift you until you're giggling uncontrollably, but he controls himself. Jack has to remind himself you're not his girlfriend yet, he's trying to take this slow, easy for you, a love confession might be a bit much 3 months in.

"Good because we have a lunch date, so go get changed into something nice." Not that you don't look nice, you always look nice, but he knows you'll feel self conscious if he takes you into a nice restaurant in casual clothes while he's in a full suit and tie.

"A lunch date?"

"Well, I can't take you out for dinner because of the game, but I figured lunch would work?" Your hesitation has Jack questioning himself, starting to second guess if this was a good idea, maybe you already had plans, "Or...you don't have to, we can stay here or...or I can go?"

"No, no! Lunch sounds...it sounds perfect."

The smile you receive is enough. It's more than enough, you think you might just do anything to be on the receiving end of that smile.

[rotagnus]

love/self-growth in march !! 🫐

my usual pick a pile is here, darlings. pick just as usual--if it doesn't speak to you, don't force yourself to choose. there are messages for you that lie elsewhere.

this reading deals with both platonic, familial, and romantic love. don't expect to get a certain aspect of love or the result you want.

-1. ooouu you're a bright person. probably very creative with a tendency to get stuck within your own head. as for love in march, i think that this month will focus on a connection that already exists. maybe you've been working on self-love, and that's what's growing. for some of you, you've adopted a pet recently and that connection is going to grow stronger. if you're crushing on someone right now, there probably won't be any change except for your feelings growing stronger. my advice to you is to decenter this because if you focus completely on that, it'll be really terrible. you are so full of beauty and flame and wonder, and you should harness this energy and create beauty, not look for it elsewhere. time will bring you everything. you deserve a love which knows no bounds, and whether this person is it or not, you must first find that love within. i know a lot of you don't want to hear this, but it's the truth. i would highly suggest trying to talk to this person, though--to find out what they really are. ask deep questions if you're already on a talking basis with them, if not--try to make a friend.

-2. now baby tell me why you've given up on love. it seems to be a sour topic for you that you shy away from. you've done a lot of self-growth in the past ~6 months, and you're farther along on your self-discovery journey than either of these two piles are. for you, you try not to love. a lot of the times, you feel like you are still unseen. this month will bring change to that. i'm not sure what kind of change, i can't exactly tell, but you'll feel a bit more seen than you did before. this may be to personal circumstances, or maybe another person does something--even a simple action--and you realize that, damn, maybe i really am seen. this month will deal with opening up a little bit more to let the love flow in. lol, for pile 1, it's not really time for love, but for you it is; but you've closed all doors to any possible encounters with love. 🤣 listen, i highly suggest doing some exercises for your vulnerability. it's a great step forward, and i think that it could benefit you. if a person comes into your life, let them. but don't be scared to set boundaries and not settle for less.

-3. you have rose-colored glasses, darling. now, don't take this the wrong way. it can be a very great thing, being idealistic--you at your heart are a ruthless optimist and honestly, a little bit naive. you've been dealing with both ups and downs, this past couple of months. there's been some trouble in your family, and in your love life. you're always the one making ends meet in order to benefit mass sums of people. you're awfully responsible and confident, but you're still...you. you still need rest. i feel like most of you are women--babies, you do NOT need to be the men in the relationship, if you're a masculine woman, disregard this. but for a lot of you, you're stuck in this disbalanced masculine energy. i don't really like talking about the divine feminine and divine masculine and whatnot, but for you i feel like it's important. girl, put yourself FIRST. i promise you there's a man/woman/person out there who's gonna bring you flowers every damn day of the week, you just gotta put yourself first. start to say NO. you might meet someone new in march. someone unexpected. i know you've been taught that change is bad, but in this case, just wait a little bit. baby steps, darling. baby steps.

[aajjks]

The Conqueror (XXVII) [m]

synopsis. He had conquered everything anything but your heart.

pairing: yandere king jungkook x fem reader ft shuaua from g-idle.

warnings: 18+ ÉXPLÍCÏT SMÜT, ôràl sèx (fèm rècïèvíng), únprôtèctèd sèx, mánipúlatíón, bôrdèrlínè nóncón, clït bïtïng, brèèdïng kínk, sèductíòn, yándèrè, dárk, mdnī,

[always remember to wrap it and honestly always remember that consent is the most important part.]

note. Oh my God guys it’s finally here. I never thought that this day would come, but oh my God our boy is not a virgin anymore. HAHAHA CELEBRATIONS CELEBRATIONS! Also, I know that there was a lot of discourse regarding this chapter so I hope that all of you will like it a little bit… I HOPE TO UPDATE SOON BUT ENJOY AND PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK. I love you guys.

series masterlist.

•••

Before you can even protest, he’s got his teeth digging into the hem of your panties as he harshly pulls on the end to take them off and you want to scream at him to stop but it’s too late because the panties are off.

And then he’s pushing his robe off.

His muscular strong body is not full on display it almost takes your breath away.

How can someone like him be so hot?

“O-Oh my God… you’re so fucking perfect.” He groans, not giving you time to say anything before he dives his mouth into your pussy, you have no idea what he’s trying to do with you, burying his face so deeply into your most private part like this.. it should make you feel disgusting but

Instead, you arch, spreading your legs before you can even stop yourself and his hands grab onto your thighs as he pushes your legs on top of his shoulders, moaning into your heat as he begins to eat you out, you cry as his hot tongue makes contact with your pussy, he’s licking you like a dog,

You try your best to push him away, trying to pry his face away. He doesn’t budge.

But instead, he looks up at you and the feral dark look in his eyes scares the shit out of you.

Yn,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that makes the very walls tremble. “I’ve been patient with you, but no more. You are my wife, and I will have you.”

He says in a low voice, gritting his teeth.

Why won’t you give him and why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?

Looks like he will have to force this out of you. Jungkook doesn’t want to do it, but you’re not giving him any kind of choice.

So now he will not give you a choice as well.

You tremble, your body betraying her as Jungkook’s hands reach out to caress your face. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, a stark contrast to the fierce determination in his eyes. You try to turn away, but he holds your chin firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“I know you hate me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “But I also know that you cannot resist the pleasure I can give you.”

Before you can protest, Jungkook’s lips are on yours, his kiss fierce and demanding. You struggle against him, but he is too strong, his hands gripping your waist with a possessive intensity.

Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed, picking you up with your thighs, wrapped around his shoulders with ease, his body covering yours as he continues to kiss you, his tongue delving into you mouth, claiming you as his own.

His kiss, it’s hot, needy and intense, you really want to push him away, but your body is just so frozen.

As he breaks the kids, he kicks off his waistband. Leaving him bare, and you are not sure that you should be terrified or glad because his length is breathtaking.

It’s too thick, standing angrily at attention as the veins bulge out.

This is going to destroy you, your pusdy clenches, and your mouth is watering.

You hate your body.

Your body responds despite your mind’s resistance, a traitorous heat building between your legs. You can still feel his hot tongue, Jungkook’s hands roam your body, caressing your curves with a reverence that betrays his rough exterior.

And before you can react?

He tears at your clothing, his desperation is growing with each passing moment.

And it’s all your fault.

“Jungkook, please,” you whimper, your voice a mere breath. “Don’t do this.”

Why isn’t he listening?

He shakes his head, Jungkook is beyond reason, his desire for you consuming him whole.

But then you see almost a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, and for a moment he stops.

“Yn…. You’re never going to love me. I’m never going to have this. W-Why can’t you give it to me?”

His eyes are unmistakably filled with tears.

“W-Why can’t you love me and why can’t you give yourself to me? Even if you won’t love me at least let me have you physically” his tone is getting heavier and breathy as he looks into your eyes.

You open your mouth to protest, but when you see the helplessness in his eyes, something shifts inside you.

Why are you even starting to feel bad for him? When he’s the reason for everything that’s happened in your life? he is the reason that you had to grow up as an orphan.

He’s the reason you’re forcefully married to him. And he’s the reason you almost got molested.

So why? Why is your heart aching right now?

And why the hell is your pussy so wet and clenching, as if it’s missing his tongue?

“I… do you think that physical relief will help you in anyway?” You manage to ask him, looking at him almost suspiciously.

And you don’t miss the way he eagerly nods and in that moment, he looks almost innocent, like he has done nothing wrong in his life, but he’s still suffering.

And for a moment you allow yourself to believe him.

You look at him again and blink twice.

“Yn I love you so much. I fucking love you and I would do anything to have you..”

Your heart thumps.

“But nothing I do seems to make you like me. I only mess up more and more, but I’ve been so patient. I have given you a year to accept me, but it never happens. I am not a monster like you think I am, but what is the point of telling you that?”

A tear falls from his eye.

And your heart clenches.

“I… I have only wanted your love and nothing else… I could give anything… even my crown if it meant that I could have a place in your heart.” he gets closer and closer until your faces are inches apart.

“So please baby… just this night, one fuckin night. It’s only need from you if you’re never gonna give me your heart at least let me give you my own body.”

He starts, pressing desperate kisses along the skin of your neck.

And you close your eyes and for the first time you let yourself feel his touch, you allow yourself to feel the pleasure of his lips on you.

And you let out a shaky breath.

You are stuck with him forever and there is no doubt about that, so you might as well start cooperating or making him cooperate with you so your life is a little bit easier.

He’s the killer of your father but now he’s your husband too.

“Please…. Please…” he whispers, biting your earlobe, and you let out another breath.

“Even if you reject me again, I won’t force myself on you.”

Your eyes widen at that.

“Even though the fucked up part in me is screaming at me to do so because you’re never going to give yourself willingly to me, but I love you so much that I can’t ever think of disrespecting you..” he breaths, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

And he inhales you.

“you deserve to be loved, you deserve to be cherished, and you deserve to be respected.” He presses another hot kiss behind your ear.

“So… please just allow me to love you for one night… I-I promise I will be so much better. I promise that I will respect your wishes and I promise that I will be the best husband that I can be…”

He gently licks the skin, making you gasp, your insides are churning. You can feel his hard cock pulsing against you.

It’s unfair how beautiful and perfect he is. He’s like a dream..

“You can even punish me after this but right now I really fucking need you. Because this is the only time I will be able to have you”

“So please baby… just one night.”

He silences your protests with another kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as he pushes your legs apart. You gasp as you feel his fingers probing at your entrance, his touch sending jolts of electricity through your body.

And this time you don’t stop him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook growls, his voice thick with lust. “I love you so fucking much.”

You moan as his fingers delve deeper, stroking your inner walls with a skill that leaves you breathless.

You try to hold back, to resist the pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you, but it’s a losing battle. Jungkook’s touch is magic, his fingers playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

As if sensing your impending surrender, Jungkook waits for your next move, and before you know it, you’re lowering his head again, his head between your legs again.. his tongue replacing his fingers.

You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he laps at your most sensitive areas, his tongue swirling around your clit with a fervor that borders on worship.

“Jungkook, oh God,” You moan, your hands fisting in his hair as he devours you. “Please, I-”

But Jungkook doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, his nose brushing against your clit with each thrust. Your body trembles, your thighs tightening around his head as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.

“F-Fine nghh- fine. you have this one night.”

He sucks on your clit harder, making you yelp.

“mhm yeah thank you so much, my queen, my heart, my love my everything.. fuck- ‘m gonna make you feel so good”

And the worst part is that he’s not even lying about that.

He’s making you feel so good.

“Come for me, yn,” Jungkook commands, his voice vibrating against your core. “Let go and give yourself to me.”

With a final cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Jungkook drinks in your essence, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release as he works you through the aftershocks.

As you come down from your high, you feel a sense of pleasure wash over you.

Why are you not feeling shameful at the way he’s laping up at your clit.

How could you have given in so easily to your enemy, to the man who has taken everything from you?

But as Jungkook crawls up your body, his eyes dark with satisfaction, you know that you are lost.

“Fuck baby… you taste so divine.”

“Yn” he whispers, his voice soft is with reverence. “You are mine, body and soul. And I will never let you go.”

These words should scare you, but they only make your cunt ache for more.

“Baby this might hurt but please hold onto me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, but I promise it’s gonna feel so good in a little bit.” He presses a hot messy kiss to your lips.

With those words, Jungkook claims you fully, his cock thrusting deep inside you, stretching your walls and filling you completely but it’s not easy because he is a big guy.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body struggling to accommodate his size.

You cry.

As he begins to move, he presses an unlimited amount, of kisses on your head, as if he understands the pain that you have just experienced and he’s trying to calm you down.

And weirdly enough? You start to feel a little bit at ease.

But as Jungkook keeps on moving, his thrusts slow and deliberate, You feel a new wave of pleasure building inside you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he drives into you, his hips slapping against yours with a force that leaves you breathless.

He roars a cry of immense pleasure.

“Fuck, yn,” Jungkook groans, his face contorted with pleasure. “You feel so good, so tight. I’m going to fill you up, make you mine in every way.”

You moan in response, your nails raking down Jungkook’s back as he pounds into you. You can feel another orgasm building, your body tensing as Jungkook’s thrusts become faster, more urgent.

He is Being so loud.

“M-My *heaves* queen. My yn.” Jungkook pulls out, making you whine, but then he slams into you again

“Come with me, yn,” he commands, his voice strained with effort. “Let me feel you come undone around my cock.”

With a final cry, You shatter again, This pleasure is making you feel so high like you’re in the clouds and you never want to let go of this feeling.

You dig your nails into his back.

“See baby, ahhh f-fuck.. I’m giving myself to you. I’m giving my all to you. Because you’re the only one who deserves it.”

your body convulsing as Jungkook fills you with his seed. He collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Mine,” he murmurs, his voice thick with possessiveness. “Y-Yn can I go all night?”

You should say no to that, but instead, your fingers find themselves in his curly long, dark locks, and you begin to scratch his hair as he lays his head on your breasts.

“Please?”

you look down at him and see the puppy dog eyes.

“Umm… uhh fine.” You hesitantly reply because you shouldn’t enjoy this so much but the high that you have experienced just now?

You don’t want to end it so soon, especially you don’t want tonight to end.

You groan as you feel his mouth catch one of your hardened peaks into his mouth, he begins to hump you.

You begin to grow even wetter and the upcoming hours of the night excite you even more, like he’s fucked the rational part out of you

You moan louder and louder.

And he hums in response, his hard cock rubbing against you, causing a delicious sensation.

And you don’t want this to end at all.

And if only you had any idea of how much Jungkook feels safe and wanted in your arms after a long, long time.

•••

The golden wing of the palace is peaceful, but the air feels different tonight. Meilin, for the first time since arriving, feels restless.

Her gaze flickers toward the king’s chambers, the same place where the man, no, the King of Goryeo.. had captured her attention the moment he’d stepped into the room, his regal presence and his commanding air leaving a mark on her mind.

Her father, the Emperor of China, had agreed to stay in the palace for a few days, and while it was an honor to be invited,

Meilin could feel herself growing more and more uneasy as the hours passed.

Not because of the palace, or its grandeur, but because of him— Jungkook, the king, who commanded attention effortlessly.

At first, it had been innocent enough. She watched from the corners of rooms, unable to ignore the way her heart quickened every time their gazes met.

He was always so composed, so dignified.

But now, as she walked the empty halls that led to his chambers, she couldn’t help but feel a strange, unsettling tension crawling beneath her skin.

The air around her feels charged. She can’t explain it, but something about tonight feels different. As she passes by the king’s chambers, she stops.

It’s unmistakable.

The sounds of intimacy, of passion. Her heart thuds painfully in her chest as she realizes what it is.

She stands frozen in place, feeling her body tense as the moans echo through the thick stone walls.

She tries to swallow, but her throat feels dry. What is she doing here? Why is she listening?

Her fingers twitch, her nails pressing into the delicate fabric of her sleeve as her mind races.

She can’t look away, though every rational part of her mind tells her to move. To leave. To pretend she didn’t hear it.

But the sounds… they twist something deep within her. Something that’s been simmering ever since she saw him for the first time. The King of Goryeo, powerful and untouchable.

She knew, deep down, that he belonged to someone else. He was married, after all.

But hearing this—hearing his moans, hearing the evidence of his closeness with his wife, you. it pulls at something dark inside her.

She wants to see him.

To feel what it would be like to be the one to make him moan like that, to bring him to his knees.

Her breaths grow shallow as she grips the wall for support, her mind spiraling.

Why does she feel this way? Why is she so captivated by this? It shouldn’t matter, but it does. It’s almost unbearable.

Her heart beats faster as her thoughts turn sharper, more possessive.

“I can’t..”

she whispers to herself, but the words die in her throat. Her body is reacting on its own, a hunger building up that she doesn’t know how to control.

She takes a step closer to the door, as if pulled by an invisible force.

Every part of her wants to get closer, to hear more, to understand what it feels like to be part of that world.

The jealousy burns hotter now, gnawing at her insides. But more than that, there’s something else— a wild, uncontrollable urge.

She feels her stomach tighten, her breath quickening, and suddenly it’s hard to ignore the throbbing desire building within her.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she murmurs, her hand trembling as it rests against the doorframe. But she can’t move.

She’s paralyzed, caught in the turmoil of what she’s hearing and what she wants… what she’s beginning to crave.

It’s maddening. And as the sounds continue, Meilin feels herself falling deeper into a dangerous obsession, one that’s only just beginning.

[lifeisbutadream444]

Playing Games

Aaron Pierre x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: A passionate yet complicated friends-with-benefits arrangement unravels as you finally confronts Aaron about his inability to commit.

Warnings: 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, p in v, bdsm themes

A/N: First thing I've ever posted, mostly porn with a crumb of plot.

The hotel suite is dimly lit, city lights flickering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your skin is still warm, the sheets tangled around your legs, the scent of him lingering in the air. Aaron lies beside you, bare-chested, arm draped lazily across his forehead, his breathing steady but not quite asleep.

"You good?" His voice is rough, sleep-laced, breaking the silence.

You hesitate. "Yeah."

He turns his head, studying you. "Liar."

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you're about to say. " I don't think we should do this anymore."

Aaron's brow furrows slightly at your words, his striking blue-grey eyes searching your face. He props himself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping dangerously low on his hips.

"Hey now, what's all this about?" His deep voice is soft, almost concerned, but there's an undercurrent of tension. 

"Talk to me, sweetheart." He reaches out, fingers brushing along your arm, touch feather-light. It's a gesture meant to soothe, but you sense the calculation behind it. Aaron is always aware, always assessing.

"I thought we had something good going here. No strings, no bullshit." A slow smirk curves his full lips. "Or am I mistaken?"

You sigh. "I need to focus on finding someone to build an actual future with Aaron. We’ve been doing this for over a year. I obviously love fucking you, but watching you constantly flirt with other women at every event, seeing them leave your apartment at 3:00 am on TMZ, it gets old after a while."

Aaron's hand stills on your arm, his expression shifting - surprise, then a flash of something harder to read. He sits up fully, running a hand over his face. "Shit..." He sighs, the sound heavy in the quiet room. "I didn't realize it was bothering you that much. I've always been straight up about... my preferences."

His gaze finds yours, intense and searching. "But I get it. You're looking for more than just a good time these days." There's a note of understanding in his tone, but also regret.

He reaches for you, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "I care about you, you know. More than just as a friend with benefits or whatever we are. But I'm not sure I'm built for that whole 'forever' thing yet."

"I understand Aaron, I really do." I sit up too, pulling the sheet around myself like armor. My heart aches but I force myself to hold his gaze steadily. This is important. I need him to truly hear me.

"I want to respect your boundaries and your current lifestyle. But I also need to respect my own needs and desires. And right now, those are leading me in a different direction. I hope we can still be friends though."

Aaron's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he listens to your words. When you finish speaking, he's silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, slowly, he shakes his head.

"You say you need to find someone to build a future with, but baby, look at what we have." His other hand slides from your cheek to tangle in your hair, tilting your face up towards his. "The chemistry between us is off the charts. I make you feel things no one else ever could."

“How would I know if I don’t even try?” you say, voice steady. “I haven’t been with anyone else since we started whatever this is.”

Aaron's eyes flash with anger and hurt at your flippant words. His grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging into soft flesh. "Don't fucking joke about that," he snarls, voice rough with emotion. “You're not like me. You're better than that shallow shit."

He looms over you, naked and powerful, muscles coiled with tension. But there's a vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his usual confident facade. "Is that what you really want? To be just another notch in someone's bedpost? Because I can tell you from experience, it's a lonely fucking road."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, touch almost tender despite the intensity smoldering in his eyes. "We can’t end things like this. Let me show you how good we can be together, outside the bedroom too."

You pull back slightly, meeting his intense gaze steadily, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Aaron, please... don't make this harder than it already is.” Your voice wavers slightly but you push on. "I appreciate everything you're saying, I do. But I can't keep settling for less than what I truly want and need."

I place my hand over his on my hip, squeezing gently. "We have an incredible physical connection, yes. But I need more. I need a partner, someone to build a life with. Someone who chooses me completely and exclusively."

A single tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you continue. "As much as it hurts, I have to accept that person isn't you. We’ve been doing this for over a year now, and that would definitely be enough time to know if I’m worth that commitment. In your eyes, I’m obviously not considering you’re still fucking other women every week."

Aaron's eyes blaze with a storm of emotions - fear, anger, desperation, and beneath it all, a flicker of something deeper, more vulnerable. As the tear traces down your cheek, his expression crumples.

"Fuck, baby, don't cry," he rasps, voice thick with feeling. His hands move to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the moisture. "You are worth it. You're worth everything." He takes a shuddering breath, clearly struggling with his next words. 

"I know I haven't shown it well, but fuck, you mean more to me than anyone else. Than all the other women combined." Aaron's forehead comes to rest against yours. "I'm scared, okay? Scared of fucking this up, of losing you completely."

You sigh, "I think that if you were really scared of losing me we would’ve progressed into something more by now. Surely you didn't think I was just gonna be your fuck buddy forever, right?"

Aaron pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that steals your breath. "You're right. I should have done something sooner." He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. 

"But I'm done being afraid. Done letting my own bullshit fears push away the person who matters most. Losing you is a lot scarier." One hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking softly as he continues.

"Baby, I... I love you. Have for a while now. And I know I don't deserve you, but I'm asking anyway - give me a chance to be the man you need."

You stare at him in shock, hardly daring to breathe. Those three little words hang in the air between us, heavy with promise and possibility.

"You... you love me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, trembling with a fragile hope. "Really?"

Tears well up again, but this time they're tinged with joy rather than sorrow.

 "I love you too, Aaron. So much it scares me sometimes. But I know you too well. You love women. You love attention. You hate commitment. I feel like you’re only saying this as a last resort because you think it’s what I want to hear.”

You start removing the sheets from your body, moving to get up from the bed. Aaron's eyes widen in panic as you start to rise, his grip on your shoulders tightening. 

"No, wait! Don't go, please." Desperation colors his deep voice. He shifts, using his body weight to gently but firmly press you back onto the mattress. His gaze bores into yours, blue-grey eyes blazing with sincerity and barely restrained emotion. 

"I'm saying this because it's true, because I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door and out of my life." One hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds you close. 

"I know I have a reputation, and I can't change my past. But I want to change my future. With you."

Aaron's heart clenches painfully as he sees the tears streaming down your face, hears the hitch in your breath as you try to pull away. He knows he's caused this pain, this doubt, and the realization guts him.

"Shh, baby, please don't cry," he murmurs, voice raw with emotion. Gently but insistently, he keeps you in place, one strong arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand cups your face, thumbs wiping away the tears.

"I know I have to prove myself to you. And I will, every fucking day if that's what it takes." His eyes search yours, pleading and determined. 

"Give me a chance to show you how serious I am. Stay with me tonight, talk to me in the morning. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust, your heart."

"It's just too late Aaron,” you reply through your tears. “It kills me, but I have to go."

Aaron's expression darkens, a flash of possessiveness and desperation in his eyes as he tightens his arms around you, holding you in place on the bed. 

"No, you don't have to go anywhere," he says, his voice low and insistent. “Not like this, not when we're finally being honest with each other. He shifts, hovering over you, using his larger frame to pin you gently but firmly to the mattress. One hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck.

"I know I've fucked up, that I've made mistakes. But I'm trying to make this right, baby. Can't you see that?" His eyes bore into yours, blue-grey irises swirling with emotion. "Don’t leave me, please."

Inside, your heart pounds—he’s finally refusing to let you go. But you keep up the act, teasing the edge of goodbye, waiting to see if he’ll chase you, if he’ll prove just how much he cares.

"Sweetheart, stop fighting this," he growls, the words rumbling through his chest and into yours. 

"I'm not letting you leave until you understand how much you mean to me." One large hand splays across your lower back, holding you flush against him while the other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back slightly to expose the column of your throat. Aaron dips his head, lips brushing the sensitive skin there as he speaks.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you here, to show you that you're the only woman I want, the only one I need." His lips graze your pulse point. "Tell me you'll stay."

You whimper softly, your body betraying you as it melts into his touch despite my resolve to leave. The heat of his skin, the strength of his embrace, the desperate need in his voice - it's all so overwhelmingly tempting.

"A-Aaron... you breathe, voice shaky. I want to believe you, I do. But I'm scared. Scared that this is just an empty promise, that you'll go back to your old ways as soon as I give in." Even as you speak, your hands come up to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat. Tears still leak from the corners of your eyes but t

"How do I know this is real? That you're not just saying these things to get me to stay the night?"

Aaron's eyes flash with determination and raw, unfiltered emotion. He leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours as he speaks, voice low and fervent.

"It's real, baby. Every word, every feeling. I may not have said it before, but I've loved you for so long." His hand in your hair gentles, fingers combing through the strands almost reverently. 

"I know I have a lot to prove, that actions will always speak louder than words. But I'm ready to put in the work, to be the man you deserve." He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze head-on.

Your voice shakes, a mix of anger and something more painful. “How can you say you love me while you’ve been out fucking other women constantly? I haven’t even been able to think about anyone else since I’ve met you. I know we're not in a committee relationship and you have every right to sleep with whoever you want. I do appreciate you always being honest about it, but that definitely doesn't feel like love to me. ”

Aaron's expression contorts with guilt and frustration at your accusation. He shakes his head vehemently, dark hair falling into his eyes. 

"No, baby, it's not like that at all." His grip on you loosens slightly, but he doesn't release you entirely, as if afraid you'll slip away. 

"Those other women, they meant nothing. They were a distraction, a way to avoid facing my feelings for you.” He takes a shuddering breath, eyes pleading. “Please give me a chance to make this right. "

You wipe tears from your face. "Let me go, Aaron."

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he slowly releases his grip on you. His hands fall away from your body as he sits back on his heels, giving you space even as his eyes remain fixed on your face, drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

"If that's truly what you want, then... I won't stop you," he says quietly, voice rough with emotion. "But please know that I meant every word I said. I love you, and I'm going to spend every day proving it to you, whether you're here with me or not."

You tell yourself you have to leave. That if you don’t walk away now, he’ll never take you seriously, never realize what he stands to lose. You want him to fight for you, to prove that this is more than just convenience, more than just a game he always wins.

As you move to leave, Aaron leaps up from the bed, his tall, muscular form blocking your path to the door.

"Baby, wait!" he calls out, voice cracking with urgency. In two quick strides, he's in front of you, one hand coming up to grasp your wrist gently but imploringly. 

His grip on your wrist tightens fractionally as he pulls you a step closer, using his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away the remnants of your tears.

Aaron captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up passion and desperation into the heated caress. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you, as his strong arms wrap around your waist to lift you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist instinctually. In a few swift strides, he carries you back to the bed, laying you down on the rumpled sheets.

He looms over you, eyes dark with lust and determination. "I'm gonna remind you exactly why you belong with me." His hands make quick work of your clothes, tossing them aside carelessly as he exposes your skin to his hungry gaze. Calloused fingertips trace the curves of your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Aaron settles between your thighs, pushing them apart to grant himself unrestricted access to your most intimate area. He inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent before diving in, his skilled tongue delving between your folds to lap at your essence.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he rumbles against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. He focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, circling and flicking the bundle of nerves with practiced precision.

As your moans fill the room, he reaches for the vibrator you kept in his nightstand, turning it on to a low hum. "Let's see how many times I can make you come undone," he purrs wickedly, dragging the toy along your slit teasingly before pressing it firmly against your aching clit.

Aaron works you relentlessly with his mouth and the vibrator, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. Just as you teeter on the cusp of climax, he pulls back, denying you that final push.

"Not yet, baby," he murmurs, voice husky with desire. "You don't get to come until you say you’re mine. Until you promise to give us a real chance."

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts, suckling and teasing your nipples until you're writhing beneath him. His hard length throbs against your thigh, a testament to his own arousal, but he ignores it in favor of focusing solely on your pleasure... and your compliance.

"I can do this all night, sweetheart," he warns playfully, nipping at your earlobe.

You’re trembling, your body wound tighter than a bowstring, desperate for release. I look up at Aaron, his handsome face blurry through the haze of lust.

"P-please, Aaron," I whimper brokenly, hips bucking futilely against the cool air. "I can't... I need... Fuck!"

He grins wickedly, clearly reveling in the power he holds over you. "What was that, baby? I didn't quite catch what you said." He circles your clit with the vibrator, applying just enough pressure to keep you teetering on the knife's edge of orgasm.

Aaron drinks in the sight of you, sprawled out beneath him, trembling and desperate, your tear-streaked face a beautiful portrait of need. He feels a surge of masculine pride, mixed with genuine tenderness, at the effect he has on you.

"That's it, sweetheart," he croons, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Just say the words. Tell me you'll stay, that you're mine, and I'll give you everything you crave."

He increases the pressure of the vibrator, holding it steady against your throbbing clit as his free hand slides down to tease your entrance. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and challenge. "I can feel how badly you need this, how much you need me. Don't fight it anymore, baby. I’m tired of arguing with you.”

Aaron’s frustration mounts as you continue to resist despite your obvious desperation.

"You're so stubborn, baby girl," he growls, equal parts exasperated and aroused. "But I'm more determined than you are. I'll keep you right on this edge until you surrender to me completely."

To emphasize his point, he suddenly plunges two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaked channel, curling them just right to stroke that special spot inside you.

At the same time, he sucks hard on your clit, the dual stimulation threatening to overwhelm you. "Last chance, sweetheart," he pants against your flesh, eyes glinting with challenge and dark promise.

"Or what?" you challenge. Your body is on fire, but you’re not giving him what he wants so quickly.

Aaron's eyes flash dangerously at your defiant question, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He withdraws his fingers from your aching core, ignoring your whimper of protest, and flips you onto your stomach with ease.

"Oh, baby girl," he purrs darkly, draping his larger frame over your back, caging you in with his arms. "If you keep testing me like this, I might just have to punish that sweet little ass of yours."

One large hand slides down to grope your rear roughly, kneading the supple flesh. The other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his.

You gasp and moan as he manhandles you, your body responding eagerly to his dominant touch despite your lingering resistance. The threat of punishment sends a forbidden thrill racing down your spine, even as a part of me rebels against being so thoroughly conquered.

"P-punish me?" You manage to stammer out between shaky breaths, trying to inject bravado into your voice that you don't quite feel. 

"And what exactly did you have in mind, big boy?" You arch your back slightly, pressing your ass more firmly into his groping hand, torn between the desire to submit and the need to maintain some semblance of control. Your inner walls flutter weakly, still aching for the fulfillment only he can provide.

"Mmm, such a naughty girl, taunting me like this," he murmurs approvingly. "I think I'll start by turning this pretty pink ass a nice, deep red. Maybe that will get your attention..."

To punctuate his words, he delivers a firm spank to your right cheek, the sting quickly melting into warmth. His palm rubs the abused skin soothingly before repeating the action on the left side. All the while, he rocks his clothed erection against the cleft of your ass, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal. "And if that doesn't convince you to behave..."

Aaron leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "Then I might have to tie you up, spread you wide open, and tease this needy little body of yours for hours. Keep you right on the razor's edge, begging so sweetly for release, until you're ready to agree to anything just to cum."

His hand snakes around to your front, fingers dipping teasingly through your slick folds. "Would you like that, baby girl? Being completely at my mercy, helpless to do anything but feel?"

You shudder and moan, your body following your true desires even as your mind struggles to hold onto its reservations. The spanks send jolts of painful pleasure radiating through you, stoking the flames of your arousal.

"Ahh...f-fuck, Aaron..." you pant, your voice thick with need. "You can't...can't just...ah!" Another spank cuts off your weak protests, the sensation making your toes curl. The image he paints - of being tied up, spread out, and teased mercilessly - sends a bolt of liquid heat straight to your core. "Yes I want that." you admit.

Aaron smiles triumphantly as he hears the breathy admission fall from your lips, your body's reactions telling him everything he needs to know.

"That's my good girl," he praises huskily, rubbing your ass. "Admitting what you really want. And we both know what that is, don't we, sweetheart?"

True to his word, Aaron secures your wrists above your head with soft ropes, the silky material a delicious contrast to your sensitized skin. He takes a moment to admire the view - you, splayed out and vulnerable, flushed with arousal and anticipation. His eyes rake over your body hungrily, drinking in every dip and curve.

Aaron starts with feather-light touches, tracing the delicate folds of your labia with the tip of his tongue. He laves at your slit, savoring your unique flavor, before zeroing in on your aching clit. A single, purposeful flick of his tongue against the sensitive bud has you keening, your back arching off the bed.

"Mmm, so sensitive," he murmurs appreciatively, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "I could make you cum just like this, couldn't I? With barely any effort at all."

To prove his point, he seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently, alternating with quick, pointed flicks of his tongue. Two fingers plunge deep into your weeping channel, curling to stroke that special spot inside you.

Aaron works you over with single-minded focus, determined to push you to the brink of ecstasy again and again. He varies his technique, switching between broad licks and targeted flicks, alternating suction and pressure on your clit. His fingers pump steadily, twisting and curling, finding new angles to stimulate your innermost depths.

Your thighs tremble and quake around his head as he feasts on you, the obscene sounds of your arousal filling the room. He can feel you tightening around his invading digits, your body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Just as you teeter on the very edge, he pulls back, denying you that final push. "Not yet, baby, he admonishes playfully, blowing cool air over your drenched folds. You haven't agreed yet."

You writhe and moan, tears of frustration leaking from the corners of your eyes as Aaron edges you relentlessly once again. Your body is wound so tightly, every nerve ending screaming for release, but he denies you again and again, keeping you balanced precariously on the knife's edge of climax.

"Please, Aaron!" you beg, voice raw with need. "I can't.... Ahhh!" Your words dissolve into incoherent cries as he suckles particularly hard on your clit, the pleasure bordering on pain. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" You tug desperately at her bonds, craving something, anything to ground yourself. But there's no escape from the exquisite torture he's inflicting.

Aaron notices your continued resistance, even as your body screams for release. A wicked gleam enters his eye as an idea takes shape. He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a sleek black anal plug and a small, soft-bristled brush.

"Let's see how long this stubborn streak of yours lasts, baby girl," he purrs, voice dripping with dark promise. Without warning, he presses the tapered tip of the small plug against your tightly furled rosebud, applying gentle but insistent pressure.

The cool metal contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of your skin as he slowly works the toy deeper, pausing to let you adjust. Once seated fully, he gives a subtle wiggle, sending sparks of new sensation radiating through your core.

You gasp as the foreign object invades your ass, the stretch and fullness sending shockwaves of sensation through her body. You feel impossibly empty and aching, yet stuffed so deliciously full at the same time. The anal plug shifts with every movement, keeping you hyperaware and on edge.

"Aaahh! Aaron!" you cry out, back arching off the bed as he wiggles the toy teasingly. Tears of overwhelming stimulation prick at the corners of her eyes. "It's too much, I can't-" But your protests are cut short as he dives back between your thighs, that wicked tongue of his lashing at your swollen, throbbing clit again.

He laps at your clit with broad, flat strokes of his tongue, reveling in how sensitive and responsive you've become. The addition of the anal plug seems to heighten every touch exponentially.

He picks up the small, soft-bristled brush, the fluffy head barely an inch wide. Teasingly, he runs the delicate bristles along your slit, catching on your engorged clit with each pass. The light, tickling sensation is maddening, keeping you poised on the knife's edge of orgasm without allowing you to topple over.

You're practically sobbing with need now. Every brush of the soft bristles against your aching clit sends lightning bolts of pleasure zinging up your spine. Combined with the constant pressure and stretch of the anal plug, you feel like you might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

"P-please, Aaron," you whimper brokenly, voice hoarse from crying out. "I can't... I need... Fuck, I need to cum so badly!" Tears stream freely down your face now, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations consuming her.

Aaron pauses his torment, lifting his head to take in the sight of you - tear-streaked face contorted in agonized bliss, chest heaving with ragged breaths, muscles pulled taut as a bowstring. He drinks in your desperation like fine wine, relishing the power he holds over you.

"Shhh, I know, sweetheart," he croons, voice low and soothing despite the wicked glint in his eyes. "I can see how much you need it. How close you are. But you know what you have to do to earn that release."

He leans in, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Tell me you're mine, baby. Give yourself to me completely, and I'll let you cum harder than you ever have before. Keep fighting it, and I'll leave you like this, aching and unfulfilled."

Aaron watches your anguished pleas with a mixture of dark satisfaction and growing impatience, shocked that you haven’t used your safe word yet. He can see the war raging within you - the desperate need for completion battling against your stubborn refusal to surrender completely. It's a delicious sight, but he's tired of these games.

"Enough," he says sharply, voice brooking no argument. In one swift motion, he flips you onto your stomach, the sudden change in position making the plug shift inside you deliciously. He drapes himself over your back, one large hand splaying across your shoulder blades to pin you down. His other hand snakes around to your front, fingers delving between your legs to circle your clit with ruthless precision.

"Listen closely, baby," he growls in your ear, hips grinding against your ass. "This is your last chance."

Your body suddenly seizes with the force of a life changing orgasm, Aaron curses under his breath, equal parts frustrated and impressed by your lack of control. He doesn't let up his ministrations, fingers continuing their merciless assault on your clit as you thrash beneath him, lost to the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Didn't I tell you not to cum without permission?" he growls, voice thick with disapproval even as he grinds against your spasming body, prolonging your peak.

"Such a naughty girl, disobeying me like that." Despite his stern words, there's a note of dark satisfaction in his tone. Your loss of control is a testament to how thoroughly he's unraveled you, brought you to the brink of madness with desire.

Your body trembles and jerks as the aftershocks of her climax roll through you, leaving you boneless and spent. You've never felt so utterly owned, so completely at someone else's mercy.

"I'm sorry," you whimper. "I couldn't help it." Even in the aftermath of your orgasm, your body aches for more, craving his touch like a drug. The anal plug shifts inside you with every shuddering breath, keeping you acutely aware of your own arousal. You've never felt so desperate, so willing to submit to another person's every whim.

Aaron's expression softens slightly at the genuine remorse in your voice, though the hunger in his eyes remains undiminished. He gentles his touch, fingers slowing their frenzied pace to languid circles around your still-throbbing clit. His other hand slides up to cup your cheek and tilt your face towards his.

"Shh, it's alright, baby," he murmurs, voice a low, soothing rumble. "I know it was too much to resist. You did so well holding on for as long as you did." He captures your lips in a deep, claiming kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans. He flips you on your back again, his gaze is intense, boring into yours with smoldering intent.

Aaron's eyes flash with sadistic glee as he reaches for the vibrator, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He knows exactly how to push you to your limits, to make you scream and beg and plead for mercy. And he intends to do just that.

"Since you seem to enjoy cumming without permission so much," he purrs, turning the toy to its highest setting, "I think it's time for round two of your punishment."

Without further preamble, he presses the buzzing head directly against your throbbing clit, holding it steady despite your bucking hips. The intense vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure-pain ricocheting through your oversensitized body, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

Aaron watches with dark satisfaction as you writhe and convulse beneath the relentless assault of the vibrator, your body no longer your own. He can feel the tension building in your core, the way your walls flutter and clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Cum for me again. Show me how much you love being punished, how much you need my touch."

“I can’t, Aaron!” your scream. Aaron ignores your anguished pleas, keeping the vibrator pressed firmly against your abused clit. He revels in the sight of you, so beautifully broken, tears and sweat mingling on your flushed skin as you fall apart in his arms once again.

Even after another orgasm, he doesn’t relent, keeping the vibratior on your swollen clit no matter how hard you buck your hips to avoid it.

"Shh, just breathe through it, baby," he croons, voice deceptively gentle even as he continues the torturous stimulation. "You're doing so well, taking your punishment like a good girl."

His free hand strokes down your trembling thigh, almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the brutal pleasure he's inflicting. Suddenly, he stops the vibrator.

"Ready for more, sweetheart?" he purrs dangerously, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

“No, I can’t take anymore, please.” you reply, your voice raspy from screaming.

Aaron hilts himself inside you with one powerful thrust, groaning at the exquisite tightness enveloping him. He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours as he pounds into your sensitive flesh. Each drag of his cock against your inner walls sends sparks of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine.

"Is this what you wanted, baby?" he growls, leaning down to nip at your earlobe." To have Daddy's big, fat cock all to yourself? To be the only one I fuck, the only one I give attention to?"

One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto the delicate skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, to brand you as his. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he rails into you.

You whimper and moan, overwhelmed by the intense sensations "Y-yes, yes, I want you all to myself!" your nails dig into his back, clinging to him desperately as he claims you thoroughly, chasing his own release.

"Okay baby," he whispers, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. "I'm not gonna fuck anyone else again. Only you, okay?" He grinds against your cervix with each snap of his hips, determined to stake his claim on your very soul. His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he pants harshly.

"I’m serious Aaron... I can't take anymore!" Your hands fist in the sheets, knuckles white with the force of her grip. The anal plug shifts with each movement, adding to the cacophony of sensations assaulting your nerves.

"That's it, baby," he encourages darkly as he pounds into you relentlessly. "Let me hear those pretty sounds. Cry for me, beg for me. Show me how much you need me."

"Please," you rasp, voice little more than a broken whisper. "Please, Aaron. I... I won't leave you. I'm yours, okay?" The words fall from your lips like a prayer, a desperate supplication.

In that moment, you know you'd agree to anything, give him anything, if only he'd put an end to this sweet torture. Your pride, your stubbornness, all the walls you've built around her heart - they crumble to dust in the face of her all-consuming desire.

Aaron slows his thrusts, grinding deep inside you as he gazes down at your face intently. His eyes bore into yours, dark with possession and barely restrained lust.

"If you want to come one last time," he says, voice a low, dangerous purr, "tell me you love me. Tell me you'll never even think about leaving me again." He rolls his hips deliberately, stirring up your insides. "Tell me."

Shaking, you finally say, "I-I love you, Aaron. God, I love you so much. I'll never leave you, never threaten to go. Please, please let me come!"

"Those are the magic words, baby," he growls in satisfaction, eyes flashing with triumph and dark desire. "Come for me then. Now." With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, grinding against your cervix as his fingers attack your clit.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. He follows you over the edge moments later, flooding your spasming pussy with his hot seed, marking you as his inside and out.

Collapsing against the sheets, utterly spent and satisfied, "Wow, I think that was your best work yet. I need time to recover." you say, panting between words.

He chuckles lowly, nuzzling into your neck as he pulls you close, still buried deep inside you. "Mmm, I aim to please, sweetheart.”

He presses soft kisses along your jaw, your cheek, finally capturing your lips in a tender, loving kiss unlike any before. He unties your hands gently.

When he pulls back, his eyes are warm with genuine affection. "I meant what I said, you know. About not seeing other women anymore. I can't believe you thought I was just gonna let you walk away."

Aaron’s forehead rests against yours, his breath unsteady, his grip unrelenting—like if he lets go, you’ll disappear. His hands tremble slightly where they hold you, his fingers pressing into your skin as if to memorize the shape of you.

He leans in, his voice a hushed whisper against your lips. “Go to sleep, baby.”

And just like that, the fight is over.

Because you were never going anywhere.

[unintentionalseductress]

Vanilla Twilight

Warnings: None! Fluffy with a little angst. Summary: You ask Caleb to your prom. A/n: I was sad today and I chose Caleb as my comfort character. Enjoy this bit of fluffiness. Not proofread.

A pleasant, late, spring breeze floats dreamily through your open window, the hallmark of a typical May in Linkon City. The late afternoon sun bathed the quiet streets of Bloomshore District in gold, casting long shadows over the sidewalks where kids rode their bikes and neighbors tended their gardens. It was peaceful—normal. A stark contrast to the vast, high-tech world of Skyhaven. 

You fidget with your hair as you ring Caleb’s number. Despite his reassurances that you were never a bother to him, you always hesitated to call him when he was away at college. He could be in training or hanging out with his friends and you didn’t want to appear like the typical, clingy, needy, girlfriend. 

The call connects and Caleb’s face comes into view.

“Pip-squeak!” He grins and waves at the camera. A resounding chorus of ‘pip-squeak’ can be heard off-screen and Caleb glances over his shoulder before shaking his head. 

“You’re all just jealous because you’re single!” He calls and he’s met with loud, obnoxious kissing noises. Shaking his head exasperatedly, Caleb gets up, angling the camera so that you can still see him as he finds a quieter spot to talk.  

“Sorry about that. You know how the guys can be.” 

You laugh, nodding, despite the blush that comes into your cheeks. “Were you going back  to the dorm?”

“Yeah. We just finished dinner.” Caleb sits down on a bench and rests his chin on his palm. “So what’s up?”

You take a deep breath, then share your news. “Prom’s coming up.”

“Oh, already?”

You huffed a laugh. “Yes, already. I swear, time moves differently for you up there.”

“It kinda does,” Caleb admitted. “One day it’s basic drills, the next it’s high-speed aerial maneuvers. Feels like I blink and a week’s gone.”

He smiles warmly. “Remember all your friends being jealous of you because you got to attend senior prom with me?”

You smile and nod. “As green as the Wicked Witch of the East! It was so magical. It was one of the last times we spent together before you left for Skyhaven.”

Caleb’s eyes were glazed over with nostalgia as he remembered. “Yeah. You still have the hairpin I bought you to match your dress?”

”Of course I do! I still wear it when I’m feeling fancy.” You pause then hedge on. “Caleb…would you be able to attend my prom?”

He laughs, full and easy at the question. “Why pip-squeak? Are you thinking about who to invite as a backup if I say no?” 

“No!” You pout and look at him reproachfully. 

Caleb only chortles at your sullen face. “C’mon, pip-squeak. I’m only joking. So? When is it?”

You tell him the date and wait with bated breath. Your heart skips a beat when you see his expression falter slightly.

”Aw shoot. Pip-squeak…” Caleb hesitates and sighs deeply. “That’s the same day as my flight combat assessment. It’s an important part of my grade, they won’t clear me for solo missions if I don’t take it.”

He sees your face fall and it feels like someone is standing on his throat. Guilt falls heavily on him as he sees you trying to hide your disappointment. “You know I would. I’d never miss this if I could help it. Not for anything.”

You swallow, trying to hide the tears that are threatening to spill over from your eyes. “Right,” you say, forcing a small chuckle. “I figured. Just thought I’d ask, you know? No harm in trying.”

Silence fills the room, and it’s eventually broken by Caleb’s conflicted voice. “I hate this.” His head falls backward and he squeezes his eyes closed. When he looks at the camera again you can see the regret flooding his pretty purple eyes and try to arrange your features into a state of convincing conviction. 

“It’s ok,” you murmur. “Your assessment is more important than prom. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” 

“I’ll make it up to you. A thousand times over. I promise”

You sniff, and nod, trying to smile. “I’ll hold you to it.” Feeling dangerously close to tears, you quickly add, “Gran’s calling me for dinner. I gotta go. Talk to you later.”

”Ok, pip-squeak.” Caleb nods, though unwillingly. “Call me if you need me though.” 

You hang up, and not a moment later, curl up into your pillow and sob, the hot tears finally letting loose. It was so unfair that Caleb was older than you, that he was in college when you weren’t. And deep down, you felt like you were being unreasonable. 

Caleb was by no means a negligent boyfriend. He visited as often as he could, sent texts and memes, and spent all his vacations with you. You felt awful for being upset at him for not being able to attend prom, for feeling like this one incident somehow upstaged all the other wonderful things about him. It wasn’t like he had declined for an insignificant reason. You didn’t want to feel this way, but you did. You were feeling let down, unimportant, and worst of all, like an immature little girl, waiting for her Prince Charming to drop everything and come see you like he had no real life adult priorities. 

It sucked. The situation sucked. And there was nothing you could do about it.

Prom would still happen. But without Caleb it felt like you were stuck in a vision of gray when everything should have been so vividly colored. 

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

The halls of your high school buzzed with excited energy as people discussed prom plans. Colorful posters hung from the walls, scrawled with messages like “One Night to Remember!” and “Save the Last Dance!”. Everywhere you turned, someone was talking about dresses, dates, and limo rentals. 

The hallways were witness to some pretty spectacular promposals and each time you saw someone accepting, it felt like a punch in the gut. You felt irrationally angry all the time. 

”Pathetic immature fools,” you grumbled as you walked past yet another happy couple. “Like a party is the most important thing in their lives. I for one, happen to know that there are real life problems that require more maturity to handle. Can’t believe I used to be so silly, thinking a party was going to make or break my year.”

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “C’mon! You’re just annoyed Caleb said he’s not coming. But you shouldn’t let that stop you!” She links her arm with yours and gives you a shake. “You’re still going, right?”

”Really? You want my single self hanging around all of you happy couples? Nah I’m good. Ouch!”

You glare as you rub your arm where your friend had pinched you. “What was that for?”

”You only get one senior prom your whole life. I don’t want to go without you. So please, stop moping. Caleb would be so mad if you didn’t go. He’d blame himself and you know it. Do you want to disappoint Caleb?” 

She crosses her arms and gives you a stern look and it’s enough to make you flinch. She was right. Caleb would blame himself if you missed senior prom. But you hated how everyone seemed to know that using Caleb on you was the ultimate leverage to get you to do anything.

”Fiine. I’ll go. But only because you begged.”

Your friend smiles triumphantly. “Good. Now let’s go find the rest of the group. We have to talk about dress shopping.”

You nod primly and follow her, but your stomach churns at the image of being surrounded by couples, slow-dancing under twinkling lights, while you stand off to the side, pretending it didn’t bother you. 

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

“Dude, you look like you’re about to fight a black hole.”

Caleb blinks, looking up to see Gideon leaning against the doorframe. “Not now, man,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

”Unless my eyes deceive me, it looks like our resident lover boy has quite the problem on his hands.” Gideon grins and sits down on Caleb’s bed.

”Piss off.”

”Look man, I’m trying to help you.” Gideon raises his hands in a gesture of peace. “You’ve been down since that call with her a few weeks ago. Wanna tell me what happened?”

Caleb sighed. If this hadn’t been Gideon, he might not have said anything. “She asked me to prom. I told her I couldn’t go.”

Gideon winces. “Oof. Harsh.”

Caleb shot him a glare. “Not like I had a choice.”

Gideon crosses his arms. “Did you, though?”

Caleb opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat. Did he? Training was brutal. Wouldn’t skipping this one assessment destroy his career?

“She was there for your prom,” Gideon pointed out. “She danced with you all night. You really wanna be the guy who let her down when it was her turn?”

Caleb clenched his fists. “Gideon, I am this close to punching you. If you see a loophole I don’t, now would be the time to say it.”

Gideon grins at him. “You have an elderly grandmother. Hard to predict when the elderly fall ill, isn’t it?” 

”What?” Caleb stares at him, at a loss for words. 

“Think, my dear Caleb.” Gideon stands and makes his way to the door. “You rank top of our class. I’m sure you’ll figure things out regarding your poor, frail, delicate grandma.” He leaves and Caleb stares at the doorway, thinking. 

After a second, the lightbulb goes off in his head. 

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

Prom night arrived all too soon. You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, adjusting the delicate straps of your gown. The soft fabric shimmered under the glow of the vanity lights, a soft shade of periwinkle. Your makeup complimented your features, with a subtle smokey eye and lighter, more natural lips. You’d spent a lot of time fussing with your hair, getting to look elegant and setting it into place using hairspray. You’d carefully inserted the hairpin Caleb had gotten you last year as a finishing touch, and it sparkled every time your head moved. You looked beautiful. 

You didn’t feel it. Your stomach felt hollow, and your mind weighed heavily on Caleb. There was no one waiting for you at the foot of the stairs, and you wouldn’t have any photos to remember this evening by, save for the group photo that you knew your friends would force you to take. You supposed you’d drink punch and make small talk with the chaperones. Last year, you were the girlfriend of the basketball star, who had been lucky enough to attend senior prom. Now you were alone, going without a date, and had no idea what you were going to do for the whole night.

Your friends had insisted you find another date to the prom but the idea felt distasteful to you, knowing that Caleb must be feeling the same way you were at the moment. It almost felt cheap, trying to find a date even if it meant nothing, to such an event. Because you knew that if you ever wanted to remember tonight, you’d rather it was without Caleb than with someone insignificant. 

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Josephine peeks inside, a warm smile on her face. “Wow, sweetheart. You look stunning.”

You forced a small smile. “Thanks, grandma.”

The old woman is holding a small box as she hobbles towards you, adjusting a loose curl near your shoulder. “Are you excited?”

You hesitate. “Yeah. I mean… it’s prom, right?”

Josephine studied you for a moment, then gives a knowing look. “He would’ve been here if he could, you know that.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and nodded. “I know.”

Josephine gestures the box towards you. “It only came just now. It’s obvious he misses you.”

Curiously, you open the wrapping paper and your breath catches as you remove a small plastic box containing the most beautiful corsage you’ve ever seen. A small card is taped at the top of the box. You open it with trembling fingers and recognize Caleb’s handwriting. 

I’m sorry I can’t be there. Please wear this and know I’m thinking of you. Love, Caleb.  

You sniff, and fan yourself, controlling the onslaught of tears that seemed ready to emerge at the smallest of things lately. Josephine smiles gently and pulls you into a hug, and you embrace her back, holding onto her tightly. When she lets go, you find that your heart feels much lighter. You slip the corsage on your wrist and get ready to leave. 

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

The limo ride to the school felt long, and all your friends seemed immersed in their dates, but you found that you didn’t mind too much. It felt surreal somehow, but you had taken comfort in the knowledge that summer would be here soon, and that meant Caleb would be home for a few months. Prom felt like a tiny sliver of your life that wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, especially given the plans Caleb seemed to have for you this summer. A road trip, calm walks around Linkon, movies, and building model planes together. Those mattered more than one night of your life, and you felt grown up at the realization. Just because Caleb wasn’t here for prom did not make him any less yours. You fondly caress the flowers on your wrist and smile. 

The school gymnasium had been transformed into something magical. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the dance floor. A soft, romantic melody played through the speakers as couples swayed together, lost in their own little worlds. 

You wait patiently in line for the photo booth. A photographer was snapping photos for everyone and you decided you would take one for Caleb, knowing he’d probably carry it around in his wallet of you gave it to him. You glance up and smile at the photographer, and for a brief moment, you see your friends suddenly look over your shoulder before their eyes snapped back to you. The flash blocks out their faces and when it’s over, they were all grinning at you. Puzzled, you take the polaroid the photographer offers you and flap it through the air a few times before looking.

Your eyes grow wide when you see the second person in the photo and you whip around, feeling like you might sink onto the floor. 

“Hey, pip-squeak.” Caleb smiles at you from where the backdrop is hanging. He was still in his tan and black flight uniform, the letters DAA embroidered on the front chest pocket. 

Feeling like you were sleepwalking, you stumble towards him, a million questions in your head. Caleb gently takes your hand in his, peering earnestly at your face.

“I know I’m a little late. But do you think you’d like to go to prom with me?”

You bite your lip because you can feel the onslaught of turbulent emotions spinning around inside of you and despite your best efforts, you can feel the painful prick of tears beginning to become present. 

“You idiot,” you whisper before he pulls you into his arms, embracing you tightly against his chest. 

“Don’t cry. You’ll stain my uniform.” Caleb teases but his heart is hammering in his chest. “Can I take this hug as a yes?”

You sniffle and quickly dab at your eyes, nodding. You gripped the front of his uniform. “How—how did you even—”

“Well, let’s just say the next time you’re in Skyhaven and someone asks about Gran, you’re gonna have to say she’s not doing that well.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Caleb, what did you say?”

“It’s not important,” Caleb says hastily as his fingers trace the hairpin you’d fastened earlier. “Trust me, it was worth it.” 

“Fine.” You push away the thought. He was here. Despite it all. 

Right on cue, a soft, love song begins to drift through the speakers. 

“May I have this dance?” Caleb asks and you smile at him, nodding. He leads you onto the dance floor, and your arms lock around his neck as you gaze into his eyes, so familiar and comforting as he leads. 

“The stars lean down to kiss you And I lie awake and miss you Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere…”

The song seems to speak your minds to each other. Caleb leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

“...Cause the spaces between my fingers Are right where yours fit perfectly”

“I…I had made up my mind to be an adult about this you know?” You ask him as you press against him. His hands wrap around your waist. 

“Oh really? Were you putting on a brave face, pretending it didn’t bother you?” 

“Yeah…Till you came along and ruined it.”

Caleb snorts amusedly, and you join in, your breaths mingling together under the hazy lights. 

“Sorry pip-squeak. My bad. Should I leave so you can go back to pretending?” He laughs loudly as you punch his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” you threaten and Caleb’s expression softens.

“Never. I’ll always be by your side. You don’t ever have to doubt that.” You settle back into his embrace, and let the song wash over you. 

“...When violet eyes get brighter And heavy wings grow lighter I'll taste the sky and feel alive again And I'll forget the world that I knew But I swear I won't forget you Oh if my voice could reach back through the past I'd whisper in your ear "Oh darling, I wish you were here…"

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@tokyorevengersrin @brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @prisjean @laddelulu30 @lethargiccryptid @ravenclaw-jojo @redactedbimbo @crypt-0rchid @fattybattysblog @xinnn6 @xiaoderrrr @evansdmitri @ravenclaw-jojo @cordidy @hesperisms @redactedbimbo @erebus-et-eigengrau @prisjean @cheesemachine44 @decileste @thesoftuglywrites @belt0-0 @snatched-bubblegum-bitch

[ithinkicantdie]

I'll put a little bit of text here that felt too long to put in the tags but I know it doesn't really matter that much to other people what I think so I won't force myself to make any of the words I'm putting down make sense.

First point I wanted to make in the tags I started writing out was that I don’t think "girls' girl" should be included in this list because it’s a newer variation of the term "women supporting women" which I very much prefer as a positive counterpart in order to replace others like the extremely widely used "pick me girl" or just "pick me" because I think it is more important to celebrate the solidarity rather than use shame to point out when someone’s internalized misogyny is being a little too external.

"Girl math" as a term could be replaced with a different term for the logic that people are putting behind it but most of the posts are about consumerism and spending money so any far-left leaning people who identify with communism, socialism or just anti-capitalism (ily all, keep fighting for change) likely wouldn't use terms like that anyway so there wouldn't be much of a point. I do genuinely think we can let that whole trend go with just the superficial analysis of "people are trying to justify spending money by saying they aren't actually spending as much as they could be" but we could also go further into why we are made to feel shame for buying superfluous things or why we have to use the money we need to live in order to be happy and being happy when you're trying to stay alive feels impossible but the shame of spending money on things that make you happy compounds on top of that.

I associate bimbocore with Chrissy Chlapecka the most and she is very unapologetic about the bimbo videos to my knowledge because they make a lot of anti fascist posts but there are some problems she has to deal with due to being an influencer with low self esteem and rarely posting to social media at all without a full face of makeup while not wanting to encourage other people to also be that way. I also think the general public are trying to move away from saying things like whore and slut and skank because social media is all about being aesthetically pleasing and it's not about how much of a whore you are on the inside but how much of a bimbo you look or act like on the outside. The connotations of bimbo do point out how often sensuality and intelligence are thought of as at odds with one another in women but thought of as being found together very often in men and you could make an argument that women are being strong-armed into once again giving up when it comes to trying to be respected and revered for their personal accomplishments and they are actively being told to revert back to striving for superficial beauty standards to reach any amount of success. I could dive into that for hours honestly.

"Girlfriend brain" in the contexts I've seen it in (used in posts by normal people and not the 'stay at home girlfriend' influencers who scare me) is very similar to the whole trend of having "scary dog privileges" where you’re able to walk around without fear of getting harassed because men who don’t see you as a person will see your boyfriend as a person and you will not be as debilitatingly anxious about your personal safety in a public space. These trends alone can point out a lot of problems with how we are expected to "solve" problems by temporarily making it safer for only one individual at a time and not dismantling the culture that makes men feel entitled to women as a whole.

"Girl dinner" I think is heavily related to diet culture with people either purposefully eating less food to restrict the number of calories or eating junk food in the privacy of their own home without fear of backlash or judgement but it could even be fatigue of constantly cooking for other people because you have that expectation placed on you and you find brief respite in not wanting to cook for ‘just’ yourself but all of those options are insanely depressing no matter what. The expectation to be a sexy twig that eats nothing but also cook hearty meals for those around you to enjoy at any given moment is too exhausting and people break away from that where they can but also not every person participating in a viral trend is required to be actively experiencing any of the shame that the audience could be projecting onto them from personal experiences so does it really help at all or does it just hurt more people?

I do genuinely think clean girl core and DFE are heavily associated with white supremacist shit so I will not defend those at all, I think I've even seen some people call DFE a nazi tradwife dogwhistle so I'll just put that out there for other people to think on because I do not want to touch that with a ten foot pole.

And other people understand the whole "I’m just a girl" thing just fine obviously based off of most of the notes. Thank you No Doubt for providing such a banger that is infinitely better than the way people are abusing the phrase now.

"I'm just a girl", "girl math", "girl dinner", "divine feminine energy", "bimbocore", "clean girl", "girl's girl", "girlfriend brain" SHUT UPPP!!! SHUTT THE FUCKKKK UPPPPPP !!!!

[teastudieseveryday]

Spring cleaning & personal learnings:

I rarely ever post anything personal, but these have been my learnings of 2024:

Your social media account is your personal sanctuary, you can block/delete/remove/not follow back/unfollow people at your own whims. You can choose to block out what you don't want to see and the energy you don't want to be around. You aren't obliged to appease to people for validation. You rock with you, you do you.

Hanging out with unmotivated people who speak fear and negativity into themselves will slowly turn you into a negative/pessimistic/cynic like them even if they support you, energies matter, energies are silent!

Make your phone boring if you want to achieve something in life.

Not everyone needs to know about your plans, sometimes not even your best friend. (this is to say, a lot of us aren't blessed with pure hearted besties who genuinely want for us what we want for ourselves)

Motivation doesn't work, sometimes discipline fails too. Fear is a good tool; fear of failure works on days when motivation and discipline doesn't.

Subconscious rewiring and manifesting can change lives if done correctly and persistently.

No aim is big enough. Just point, aim and shoot!

Always monitor your own personal energy, you need to be energetically healthy to feel good about yourself and your goals and to show up consistently every day.

Some people aren't nice, they won't like you probably because you threaten their social status and it's totally normal to remove yourself from that zone instead of diminishing your light or shrinking yourself to make them feel safe and their alpha status feel less threatened because why? Why would you be less and not more of everything? You can choose not to fight for the attention/love/validation to be seen and heard and make an Irish exit from such spaces. Be where you are celebrated, not where you are tolerated! Such a quote to live by.

Pick your battles, not every battle is worth fighting.

Don't say anything you don't mean. It's very simple.

No revenge, just outdo yourself and the revenge gets taken care of.

Silence is great, not as a power move but because silence gives other people the space to speak, express and be themselves. You don't do power play with your own people; you give them the space to open up to you and be their authentic self.

If you sense powerplay, your best bet is to exit that space. You'll constantly be at an invisible battle in a group/with that person where both will try to take control of the dynamics in that setting and it will end up being a whole lot of mental gymnastics and loss of energy.

Redirect your energy towards bigger and better things, towards things that truly matter.

Reading is great, it inculcates a sense of gravity in your mind about the things you're passionate about, you don't blabber excessively in spaces that genuinely don't matter in the bigger scheme of things, and you build an air of importance and there's this 'chad' like air around you which intimidates people, and they think twice before challenging you to some debate because they know you hold a command over your subject and niche.

Not everyone is your friend. some people are here for your energy, some people are genuinely supportive of you and your goals, some people are not very happy about your small wins and big dreams. All in all- trust your intuition in these instances.

Be authentic about your expression and feelings, life is finite, we will die one day, there's no point being ambiguous or nonchalant about how you feel. Losing to someone in this area of life is far better than being emotionally constipated. Collect good karma and you'll be rewarded likewise in the future!

Your energy does reach the room before your words do, so be self-conscious in a way where you carry yourself with integrity and move with poise.

I watched this reel which I resonated with 100% it went like- life is easier and better when you are a chad, you work out, take care of yourself, do skincare, read, journal, listen to affirmations, cut off negativity, do dopamine detox etcetera. Life's just better when you are a chad, and yes that's so true. I see zero lie in that.

You aren't obligated to lookout for people who aren't fending for themselves.

Your perspective matters, if you think all men are shit you'll encounter a majority of men who are shit; if you think life sucks, it will continue sucking; if you think math is hard, it will continue being hard for you to grasp. So think 'my life is on easy mode' and watch things switch. Law of assumption is powerful.

Choose the right people: certain people bring a certain side out of you. The chirpy & secure ones make you feel secure in yourself, the naysayers bring out a more self-doubting side out of you, the spiritual ones help you get in touch with your own spiritual side. I chose to be around softer people this time, not edgy, not cold, not harsh, not judgmental. I was around accepting, kind, generous, gentle, softer people and I felt a whole shift in my own aura, I feel more confident than ever, more accepting towards myself and I am gentler to the other people I meet. Choose the table you want to sit on and be affiliated to, because that's who you'll become and that's what your external & internal narrative will turn into.

I hope this resonates with some of you and gives you some perspective.

[valkyriexo]

When You Start Getting Distant Because You’re in a Relationship | Maknae Line

ᑉ³pairing; Friend! OT8 x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Headcannon, angst

ᑉ³warnings; none I think!

ᑉ³authors note; You guys seemed to like the hyung line! Here is the Maknae Version Hyung Line

╰┈➤ Han

Tries to act like nothing’s wrong, but it’s so obvious something is. He still jokes around, still sends you funny messages—but there’s hesitation now, a nervousness in his texts that wasn’t there before.

Overthinks everything. Did he say something weird? Is he being annoying? Are you ignoring him on purpose? His brain runs in circles, making up worst-case scenarios.

Writes songs about it. Instead of telling you how he feels, he pours it all into lyrics....verses full of confessions, frustration, and so much longing.

Tries to distract himself with food and games, but nothing feels the same. Even his favorite snacks taste bland when you’re not there to steal a bite. His high scores don’t feel like victories when you’re not there to celebrate.

Gets weirdly competitive with your S/O—even if they don’t know it. If they post a funny joke, he has to post something funnier. If they do something romantic, he mutters, “I could’ve done it better.”

Has a hard time Dealing with his emotions. Emotions and Han Jisung don’t mix well...so it explodes out of him all at once.

"You’re really just gonna leave me behind like this?"

The words come out sharper than he intended, but he can’t stop them. His usual playfulness is gone.

"I mean, seriously—what happened? One second, we’re fine, and the next, I barely exist to you."

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t text first anymore. You cancel plans. And every time I try to talk to you, it’s like you’re already halfway out the door."

You try to explain, but he just throws his hands up.

"I get it, okay? You have someone now. But did that mean I had to lose you completely?"

His voice is quieter now, but his eyes, usually so full of light, are clouded with something else.

"I was supposed to be that person."

His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

"You think I didn’t notice? The way I felt whenever you were around? The way I’d drop everything just to see you smile?" He laughs bitterly. "I knew it before I even admitted it to myself."

Then, finally, his voice barely above a whisper—

"But I guess I was too late, huh?"

And for once, Jisung has no joke to cover up the pain.

╰┈➤ Felix

Tries to be supportive, even when it hurts. He forces a smile, tells you he’s happy for you, and pretends like his heart isn’t sinking every time you mention your S/O.

Still checks up on you, even if you don’t check up on him. Sends you little “Did you eat?” or “Get home safe” texts, even when you stop replying as fast as you used to.

Bakes way too much. His kitchen turns into an emotional war zone....cookies, brownies, cakes, anything to keep himself busy. But no matter how many sweets he makes, nothing takes away the bitter feeling in his chest.

Tries to keep up his usual affection, but it feels… different. He hesitates before reaching for a hug, pulls away too quickly, laughs a little softer when you ruffle his hair.

Plays video games as an escape. But even when he wins, it doesn’t feel as satisfying when you’re not there to celebrate with him.

Finally breaks when he realizes you’re truly slipping away. He wanted to be patient, wanted to be the good friend, but that didnt go as planned.

"You don’t need me anymore, do you?"

Felix’s voice is quiet, almost trembling, but his eyes are locked onto yours...searching, begging for an answer he’s afraid to hear.

"I mean… I get it," he laughs weakly, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "You have someone now. You’re happy. That’s all I ever wanted."

He pauses, swallows hard.

"But… was I ever that important to you?"

Your breath catches, and he takes a shaky step back, hands clenching at his sides.

"Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore." His voice wavers, his deep tone softer than ever. "I’m still here, you know? I still—" He stops himself, letting out a quiet sigh.

Then, almost too soft to hear—

"I still love you."

It’s out before he can take it back, and when he sees your eyes widen, he lets out a small, sad chuckle.

"I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was enough just to be near you. But then you started pulling away, and suddenly, I wasn’t even part of your life anymore."

His voice cracks, and he shakes his head, looking down.

"I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I?"

When he looks back up, his usual warmth is dimmer.

"But it’s too late now, isn’t it?"

╰┈➤ Seungmin

Acts like he doesn’t care—but oh, he cares. His usual teasing gets a little sharper, his sarcasm a little more pointed. He pretends everything is normal, but his eyes tell a different story.

Stops reaching out first. If you want to talk to him, you can text him. (Except he still waits for your messages, still checks his phone way too often, still hopes.)

Gets quieter around you. Normally, he always has a witty remark, a playful jab...but now, there are more pauses, more silences that stretch a little too long.

Starts staying late at practice, distracting himself with work. If he can’t talk to you, he’ll at least be productive about it.

Refuses to admit he’s jealous, even when it’s painfully obvious. If someone points it out, he scoffs, “Jealous? Of what? Please.” (Meanwhile, his grip on his water bottle tightens.)

Finally breaks when he catches you actively avoiding him. He was fine with being second place.....until he realizes he’s not even in the running anymore.

"Are you serious?"

Seungmin’s voice is steady.....too steady. He stares at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something burning behind his eyes.

"So this is how it is now?" He lets out a short, humorless laugh. "You don’t even bother pretending anymore, huh?"

You shift uncomfortably, and he shakes his head, jaw clenching.

"You didn’t even notice, did you?" His tone is sharp, but there’s something underneath it...something fragile, something aching.

"I stopped texting first. I stopped calling. I stopped everything just to see if you’d even care. And guess what?" He exhales sharply, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again.

"You didn’t."

The words hang in the air, heavier than either of you expected.

For a second, he looks like he wants to stop himself. Like he wants to shove the words back down. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Do you even know how stupid I feel?" His voice drops lower, quieter. "Standing here, saying all this, when I already know how it ends?"

Then, almost as if the confession is being dragged out of him—

"I liked you, you know."

A bitter smile tugs at his lips.

"Maybe I still do."

His fingers curl into fists at his sides, but his voice stays painfully steady.

"But I’m not going to beg for your attention."

With one last glance...one that lingers just a second too long...he steps back.

"So if you’re going to keep pushing me away, then fine. I’ll stop trying."

╰┈➤ Jeongin

Tries to play it cool but completely fails. He acts like everything is fine, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore.

Laughs less around you. Normally, he lights up when you’re near, but now, his laughter feels forced...like he’s just going through the motions.

Overthinks everything. Did he do something wrong? Did he annoy you? Or are you just done with him? His thoughts spiral, but he never asks, too scared of the answer.

Becomes awkwardly formal. Where he used to call you cute nicknames or casually tease you, now it’s just “Oh, hey,” and “Yeah, sure.” Like he’s putting up a wall between you.

Starts avoiding you, even though you’re the one pulling away. If you don’t need him, maybe it’s better if he keeps his distance too. But it hurts more than he thought it would.

He sees you with your S/O and realizes he’s not the person you run to anymore. He wasn’t going to say anything, but his heart doesn’t listen.

"Do you even miss me?"

The question slips out before Jeongin can stop it, and when you turn to look at him, his lips press together like he already regrets saying it.

"Because it really doesn’t feel like you do."

His voice is soft, but there’s a rawness to it....like he’s been holding this in for way too long.

"I get it," he says, forcing a smile. "You’re happy. You have someone now. But..." His voice trails off, and he lets out a small, bitter laugh. "I guess I just didn’t think I’d lose you completely."

You start to say something, but he shakes his head.

"I used to be the one you told everything to. The one who could make you laugh even on your worst days." He swallows hard, voice growing quieter. "Now, I’m just someone you used to be close with, huh?"

He looks away, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself together.

"I really liked you, you know."

The confession is barely above a whisper, like he doesn’t even want to hear himself say it.

"But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?"

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[coffee-fueled-cookie]

The Eltingville Club as parents

Josh Levy

Is a girl dad through and through (trust me guys, all fat guys should be girl dads)

Probably grows up to be a big fan of anime, but they'd both share a love for Star Wars. They watched the spin-off cartoons and movies, and she definitely dragged him to the new movies

He has tried to sit and watch through her animes, didn't like the cutesy magic girl ones until he actually sat down and watched Madoka Magica

Does enjoy Dragon Ball Z, so trust he put her on that

As for his collection, there are still important pieces that he keeps in cases, he probably has a space dedicated to them, maybe his office, but if something just simply won't gather value overtime then he for sure passes it off to her

This resulted in him crying over a chewed up Darth Vader doll (she was teething)

If his daughter grows up to wanna do cosplay he's definitely gonna have to straighten up about hus behavior, if he imagines guys like Bill talking about girls like his daughter??? Oh god, he'll have a heart attack

Took her to her first comic-con and basically hovered the whole time. Did, in fact, knock the mask off some pervy storm trooper

They've definitely had the problem about him being so stifling and protective, he feels a lot like his mom amd thinks about her a lot

Jerry Stokes

Oh brother, like father like son, those two are absolute dorks through and through, his clone basically popped out of his wife

As soon as his son is old enough, Jerry is hopping on making him a character sheet. He's teaching him Magic the gathering, painting him little miniatures

Was the dad that made his kid pick a Pokémon starter on the 1st birthday

Jerry has since found his place and enjoys the friends he has, but having someone so close that he can understand him and vice-versa is refreshing, especially since it's his own kid

They go to ren-fair for sure, the costumes are suuuppperr dorky, but it's fun

Jerry definitely struggles with his kid growing up and going off and doing his own thing. He definitely worries about who his kid is making friends with

He just doesn't want his kid making the same mistakes he did, even if his kid has proved that he can make good choices and make good friends

Bill Dickey

Oh god, everyone run, it's Bill, but a girl

Yeah, he has a daughter. No one knows how tf it happened, but it did

She's super bossy, super particular, and it's hell on earth, especially because he ends up wrapped around her pinky

Divorced dad core, definitely not married to the woman that had his girl

Surprisingly very present though

She's into Star Trek and mostly everything he's into, but on top of that, she's probably doing amazing academically

Raising a feminist, and he can't give credit to himself

Probably got it from mom

While she's terrible and has his nasty attitude, they actually get along too well

Bill, at some point, finally drops that femoid crap, it's hard to unlearn but it happens

Does that mean he's a feminist? No.... They still fight as much as they get along, especially because he can kinda put her down and doubt her a lot, doesn't help she's his kid

'I know better than you' mindset, it's not good

The fights don't even get resolved, they just choose to forget and next thing you know they're bonding over some old ass show Bill watched as a kid

It's exhausting but hey, they make it work somehow

Pete Dinunzio

(If this shit went accurately, he probably pumped and dumped, so he wouldn't be raising his kid)

BUT LET'S IMAGINE OTHERWISE

The dad that picks up his son every other week/weekend. It's always awkward the first half hour, but usually, he lightens up

He has for sure fought with mom about the stuff he keeps in his house

It's mostly posters from rated r films and the occasional prop from Sick Mofo

Finally, he just throws all the shit in one room and calls it an office, as for keeping it locked? He doesn't think that far

"The fun parent" or rather the enabler. He kind of encourages bad behavior, the guy to be like, "You can drink/smoke as long as it's at the house."

If his kid ends up into the shit he's into, then awesome for him, if not? He's kinda indifferent

Fell asleep once while watching his boy as a toddler, woke up to the police at his door and holding his kid (he didn't lock the door and the toddler ran out)

If they all met up again as parents, the other kids would probably be advised not to hang around him

Not because he's like a predator, he's just a bad influence, and his boy probably grew up alongside those influences and wouldn't be very nice or sympathetic either

[scarlet-letter-s-for-soft]

As someone who has studied and worked as an astrologer, has found great value & enjoyment in the practice, and also doesn’t take it that seriously, I have a few thoughts:

It’s an art, not a science. It’s the same with testing psychic powers through remote viewing. If you’re trying to prove it is true, you’ve missed the entire point. It’s not ‘can this system objectively be correct about me,’ especially if they handed someone facts on paper and not a living, breathing person to interact with.

I understand wanting to 'prove your skills' in any profession. But the astrologers who set themselves up with *this* kind of test ... were doomed to fail even if they are experienced.

Astrology is about the journey you go on to learn more about yourself and the people who help you do that. It’s about the questions. It's how you, as a person, interact with your chart. It’s never been about some outside, black-and-white answer and anyone proclaiming to know some dogmatic, unchangeable truth about you is … a shitty astrologer???

There are like nineteen different charts you can run, and the older you get, the more you grow and the LESS accurate birth charts are. A birth chart is your factory settings. I sure as heck hope you've changed. And if you're using Astrology as an excuse (sorry, I'm controlling just because I'm a Scorpio, etc.) to not do the work of growing... bro, come on.

It's why people insisting I try and guess their sun sign are so frustrating. Sun sign astrology is unfortunately very popular now, but it's not all that useful. Your sun sign is one of twelve and you have it in common with 1/12th of the world. Your full natal chart isn't likely to be repeated for thousands of years. You can't just look at the surface.

Again - it’s the process. Astrology is a conversation. It’s archetypes and behavior patterns and depth psychology with a flair for the mystical. If you don’t ‘believe’ in it, that’s amazing! It's not a tool that is useful for you on your journey of healing and self-exploration. Other things will be and I hope you find them!

But if you look at something that has been useful to someone else and mock it or judge it… that says far more about you than it does about them. Not believing in something is still a belief in and of itself, and all of our beliefs say something about who we are and how we interact with the world.

All I’m saying is - don’t be a dick. 99% of the witchy/spiritual folk I know aren’t delusional or somehow hurting themselves by *checks notes* believing in something. If you’re so offended by these concepts, I’d suggest you dig into why you feel vindictive joy in reading the above study.

I can guarantee your friends who like astrology or read tarot cards or practice psychic skills don’t give a shit if you think it’s ’real.’ But they absolutely hear the derision in your voice and are going to stop trusting you with important parts of themselves. Life is confusing and weird and we're all just looking for answers and doing our best. Be kind, yeah?

Astrology doesn't seem to work.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

Get Below Me vol 5 🎀🖤

I told you the smut would come

simp!roommate!vessel x virgin!fem!reader

head’s up: virginity loss, morning sex, cunnilingus, reader says “fuck you” to her fears and “fuck me” to vessel, nipple play (f receiving), Vessel talks dirty but is so encouraging and baby 🥺

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Ves spent a lot of time thinking about how to help you feel loved. How to show it. How to make you believe it. He had to be careful. There was a delicate balance and a hell of a lot at stake—his new, wonderful relationship and your precious heart. Hurting either thing would absolutely destroy him.

After showering one morning, Vessel feels particularly lonely for you. You hadn’t seen each other much that week because of work schedules, and therefore sleeping apart. He missed his girl. Not just the warmth and feeling of you and your kisses, but just you. Just wrapped in his towel, he knocked on your bedroom door, knowing you might be sleeping in. To his utter delight, you immediately told him to come in.

You look like an angel still cozy in bed. You say your ‘good mornings’ and ask what you have planned…but neither of you can ignore the tension.

He relishes in your eyes tracing over his body even though it’s still nerve wracking to know you desire him. His heart melts when you bite your lip and chuckle softly, that is, until he realizes how evident his hard on is under the towel. “Like something you see, yeah?”

You stretch in bed and tsk. Vessel’s breath catches when you arch your back and let out a content little moan. “Maybe.”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He moves to get on the bed before you put your hand up.

“Dry off first.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says staring you down as he undoes the towel from his waist. Vessel chews his lip and keeps his eyes locked on yours as you shamelessly devour him with your eyes. When he’s all dry he climbs under the warm covers with you and pulls you close. His hand goes down the back of your waist band and grips your ass while his lips find your neck. You get the giggles again as you cling to him, burying your face into his neck as well. His other hand rubs your back and holds you close to his chest. “Such a good, pretty girl, aren’t you?”

Your legs squirm and squeeze together. The way he touches you and talks to you makes you feel so good. Finding your confidence, which waxes and wanes between each make out session, you place open mouth kisses on his neck as well. The way Vessel moans into your neck lights you up from the inside out and makes you want to give him anything he wants. You pull away from his neck to look into his eyes. “I need it.”

He catches his breath and looks at you in a lovesick daze. “Tell me what you need. Tell me straight, love.”

Every rejection, every heartbreak, every night wondering what the fuck was wrong with you lead up to this point. You didn’t destroy your past selves and stare down reinvention at your lowest point over and over and over to fuck this up with a god of man in your bed. “Ves…I need you to fuck me.”

You don’t get the reaction you expected. He’s on you in a fraction of a second. “I swear to god, you stop me the mintu—“ you shut him up with a kiss. What he’s saying is important but you know this already. And more important…you believe him. He pulls away with a sharp wet smacking sound from the kiss breaking. “You’re a little vixen, you know that? S’fucking sexy.” His hands trail shamelessly now down your body. Quickly his hands come back up to your tits where he teases your clothed nipples, pinching them to make them poke through the fabric of your shirt. Vessel bends down and rubs his lips over the hard little bud. “Someone likes being touched. Like to be pet, good girl?”

You whine as his tongue darts out with little kitten licks, leaving wet spots on your shirt. You can’t take it anymore. Without a word you start to strip, leaving Vessel with his mouth agape and cock throbbing. It’s better this way. If you take your clothes off quick enough you won’t realize what you’re doing and not feel any shame. But when you lay back and Vessel practically folds you in half to start worshiping your pussy, “shame” doesn’t even register as something that exists.

Obviously you’ve never felt anything like this before but it’s fucking transcendent. Vessel’s hot, shuddering breath tickles at your cunt as he leaves tiny reverent kisses on your mound. His thumb curiously strokes up and down your lips before plunging into your folds and landing again at your sensitive little clit. You twitch and cry out, the sound dying in your throat, strangled with pleasure. “Perfect girl…make those noises for me. So pretty. Let’s me know I’m doing good.” He replaces his thumb with his tongue and moans loudly against your cunt as you grasp the back of his head. Vessel relishes in the taste and sensation of eating you out but also in the knowledge that he’s the first person to do this. He’s your first and you’re losing your mind over him. Without a care he starts to fuck his hips into your mattress, still lapping at your pretty folds. His fingers delicately play at your hole when you stop him.

“V-v…baby…no…don’t”

He climbs atop you and wipes his mouth before kissing your forehead. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I…” …your body is trembling and so is your voice…”I don’t want you to finger fuck me. I…I want the first time any part of you…fucks me…to be your cock. Please.”

In his mind, Vessel starts naming the Prime Ministers backwards so that he doesn’t bust from the single hottest thing anyone has ever said. “Alright, my darling. If it means that much to you…” the head of his cock slides up and down your pussy. “I guess I can just…” he teases your hole with just the head. You’re borderline hyperventilating on the bare minimum, and Vessel’s dominant side can’t help but take the bait. “You’re not eager you know? You’re needy…desperate to get fucked by your Prince Charming, huh?”

You knead your tits and nod, almost on the verge of tears from how good it feels to just have someone else touch you. “Please…please I want your cock so bad. Want you to cum inside me…”

“Oh you’re naughty. Virgin only by name. But you’re a slutty little doll, yeah? Hmm? Be a good girl,” more of his cock slides in, “and be still for me.”

The room is silent except for both of your shallow breaths. Vessel takes his time to get you used to the stretch. You had shown him the toys you liked before—he felt his ego boost but also his fear rise that he could hurt you. But your pussy gripped and coaxed his cock deeper. Your pretty eyes glistened with need and love. “Ves…” you let out a strained whisper, “…feels so good.”

Slowly, he moved down to your level, finally bottoming out. “I’m all the way inside you, sweetheart. You feel so fucking…mmm…” his hisses against your neck. “Nice and snug for me. Ready for me to start moving, love?”

You nod quickly and cling to his shoulders. “Please…please fuck me…”

“Aww you’re begging,” he pants and kisses your forehead. “My needy…desperate…angel baby has been craving cock for so long, hmm?”

“Just yours! Just yours, Ves…I…”

Vessel steadily starts fucking you. Your moans are strangled and fragments, your mouth dropped open in a perfect, sexy pout. “Look at you…that’a girl…taking your first cock…mmm.” Vessel’s mouth encircles one of your hard, pretty nipples as his pace increases. He settles at a steady but firm pace that’s similar to when you sucked him off on Valentine’s Day. The memory melts your brain and brings you closer to what you can only assume is an allusive vaginal orgasm. In hindsight, you’ll realize it doesn’t matter what it was…it just felt really fucking cool. With a little pop, Ves pulls away from your tits and looks down at you, still fucking you at a polite speed. “Doing so good for me…feel good?”

“More…”

“M-m-more?”

“Please…” you have to feel more. You need his balls slamming against your ass and his cum making you a sticky mess. “Ves…mmm…please please… fuck me…”

“Gonna kill me…such a good girl…telling me what you want…”

Ves suspends his fear of scaring you with how strongly he feels about you and how he wants to show you by ravaging you. He lets it happen. Your fingertips dig into his biceps but he doesn’t care. Not when your perfect body is dragging him in and under and he gets to watch you have your first orgasm from someone other than yourself. He’s left his body. He’s making you scream and write like that. The power he has to make you feel and act like that…he’s addicted. He’s so far gone the second you pull him close and rut your hips against him, whimpering and crying out. “Such a good girl…you feel so good, don’t you?” He kisses your neck to your mouth, settling for a long hot kiss as he rocks into your pussy. “When I think about you,” he whispers hoarsely, “this is how I fuck my fist…” He speeds up until he reaches the familiar, intoxicating rhythm that finishes him. He praises you and moans into your mouth as your body relaxes and welcomes his hot cum inside you.

The aftercare is simple. You wanted to be spooned and wanted to get up and have some coffee. Vessel could abide by that. You both were happy and satisfied, but Ves couldn’t help but apologize for how hard he went. You rolled over and kissed him to calm his nerves. “Babe…it’s fine I promise. Besides,” you shrug “you kept me feeling really confident.”

“Yeah…how so?” He asks with a smirk.

“You just…your words made me feel good. Like I was good. Worthy of…I don’t know…praise sounds stupid but…it was encouraging.”

Vessel studies you for a bit, curious and tantalized by this discovery. “You like me praising you?”

“Yeah…heh…honestly…I feel like you could really use that against me…get me to take care of myself or something,” you say laughing, waving off your own joke. Vessel doesn’t laugh. To him it’s NOT a joke…because here’s the thing about PraiseKink!Vessel.

[crow-quilll]

hii! when are you gonna post chapter 11? i have been waiting impatiently ahhhh

Hello!! So sorry, just finished my last assignment today and NOW I am free from university's evil clutches for a whole week. SO I can say that Chapter 11 for Nobody's Soldier will be out tomorrow :) But as a little treat, here's a taste tester:

(CW!!: Aftermath of torture)

-----

"I lost, Young-il," Gi-hun's voice grows quieter, lower, more vulnerable, "I lost. I- I couldn't last through all of it, I gave the Front Man what he wanted."

He runs his own hands through his hair, resisting the urge to pull at the strands to distract himself from the dull, all-consuming shame.

"And then he came in here and--" 

Gi-hun cuts himself off, pressing his lips together as he instantly decides that he can't vocalize what happened next. He just can't. Telling Young-il about the torture was one thing, but telling him how the Front Man hand-fed him stew? How he gently caressed his face and called him "beautiful"?

No. Young-il didn't need to know all of that, he didn't. He would never be able to look at Gi-hun the same again without picturing the Front Man's hand wrapped around his throat, deciding if Gi-hun had behaved well enough to earn the privilege of breathing.

Young-il's hand finds his shoulder gently from behind, "I'm so sorry."

Gi-hun's shoulders lower with a shaking breath out, pulling his hands down from his face, "It doesn't matter, it's over now. We've got more important things to worry about." 

"Gi-hun, you are important," Young-il corrects him, forcefully turning him around to see his face, "How do you expect to lead a rebellion if you can barely stand?" 

"I can stand just fine," Gi-hun refutes stubbornly as he meets the other's eyes, ignoring the way his entire body trembles from supporting his own weight, "What time is it? How long until lights out?"

"Just stop," Young-il commands firmly, both hands finding the sides of his arms as if they never left, "take a breath." 

Gi-hun stares at him bewildered for a moment, something in him instinctively itching to disobey like a beaten dog that bites before it can be kicked again. He has to remind himself that he's talking to someone who genuinely wants to help. He tentatively obeys, taking a slow breath in and wincing at the movement of his mutilated ribs. He holds it for a moment, a dull blush creeping into his face at Young-il's close inspection, and lets the breath out through parted lips.

"We've got time, okay?" In-ho urges, rubbing the side of his arm gently, "You are bleeding through your bandages, so let me at least redress your wounds before you set off for another fight." 

"Young-il, I'm fine--"

"I shouldn't have to keep arguing with you about this," Young-il cuts his lie off, "I know you are in pain. Anyone would be after all you've been through."

Gi-hun grinds his teeth and looks away, "It's not that simple. If we don't make a move now--"

"Hey," Young-il's fingers find his chin and pull his face back up, forcing their eyes to meet, "do you trust me?" 

Gi-hun hesitates a little, swallowing the growing lump in his throat at the way that Young-il holds him. It resembles the Front Man's touch just enough to make him instantly nauseous -- but it's different. The Front Man's touch is cold and unyielding like the sharp kiss of frostbite, but Young-il's is tingly and pleasant like warm rain. And yet, a pit still curls in his gut like two frigid hands reached down his throat, took hold of his intestines, and wrung them like a wet towel.

He shouldn't be hesitating - why is he hesitating? Young-il has proven time and time again that he genuinely wants to help Gi-hun overthrow the Front Man. And yet, Gi-hun can't shake this haunting feeling that he's making the wrong choice.

But it's not Young-il making him hesitate, is it?

It's the Front Man and his games. Gi-hun has been warped like wood in water by this place. He can feel rot spreading to every facet of his being, chewing away at everything he is and ever will be like a cancer. His belief that he could rely on other people died with a whimper the day that Sang-woo bled out in his arms.

If he can believe that humanity is still capable of good, then why can't he trust anyone without waiting for a knife to dig into his back?

So, despite that sinking sensation in his chest, Gi-hun bites back his automatic reservations and lets his cracked walls lower.

"I trust you," Gi-hun says honestly, sounding far more breathless than he originally meant as he feels Young-il's breaths warming his face. 

Young-il's fingers fall away from his chin, his intense gaze softening like ice in sunlight, "Then let me help."

-----

Hehe, I hope you enjoyed this little appetizer. A new chapter is on its way, get ready my friends <3 <3