#i want to be perfect i want to be able to focus that long

[samhadjblog2]

Yes stories are about character's confronting one another however the confrontation wasn't some "Uniting against a common enemy" fight. And more like it was character's going of on there own moral values and how a lot of these values clashes with one another. Sometime they agree on things other times they clash with one another. However the show was never going into a direction where they all unite to fight a common enemy.

To say it was always going to end that is far from the truth. It was in the direction of all of these characters.We don't even get the"Uniting against a common enemy" as the main focus of the show until EP.8 while the first seven episodes were (more or less) character focused.

Silco and Jayce's deal wasn't built on "Noxian" invaders it was built on Jayce wanting to reach after he saw how his own violent actions led to a child getting killed. Yes he talked about "the threats of the rune-wars" and how it "brought the city together". However its not a form of "Foreshadowing" its a means of saying this city is built on "Progress" and that they should reach out for peace. I remember what happened. I also remember that the peace Silco wasn't some easy thing and in turn was only going to lead to more conflict. Also its just "one scene". And we get no other scene like this before the "Final fight" that indicates the cities will unite against a common foe.

Vi's comment about "Oil and Water" its only referring to her Caitlyn. Yes there is a lot of class implications towards it however the implication alone didn't mean that it foreshadowed Piltover and Zaun 'Unite against a common foe". Because every-time two characters work together its through the means of a common "Interpersonal goal". Vi and Caitlyn they both had different goals "Caitlyn" wanted to figure out what happened during the progress day attack meanwhile "Vi" wanted to go in and find her sister and get back at Silco. And as the story went on they gradually built a on bond. Viktor and Jayce worked together to use Hex-tech to help people, although they had various different ideas of "how" to use Hex-tech. Vi and Jinx unite to get Warwick, while at the same time salvaging there broken relationship. And that's not something that can be replicated with "Two cities" because that's too large scale to unite through "Interpersonal goals" (More on that later).

Also yes I'm aware of "What could've been" its a sad moment and something more beautiful and poignant then what the Season 2 finale ever was. However It's also important to note that the peace wasn't perfect and Silco had a lot of second thoughts on trying to go through with it. And that the council also were very much against this whole deal. And that's the tragedy of "What could've been" its a dead deal, Piltover and Zaun aren't able to reunite and there will be long term fractures. Similar to how Jinx cut ties with Vi and that there is no going back to there family. That is what S1 sets up, that there is no going back.

Now the show didn't have to end with Piltover and Zaun holding hands and making peace immediately however having the characters come against a common enemy is such a cheap way to end the show. It means that the conflict doesn't resolve by having all that what happened between Piltover and Zaun being acknowledge or addressed. So while yes the epilogue "Alludes to" the work needing to be done. However the politics stop being relevant after episode 4 and then suddenly in episode 8 we have this "Big world ending threat" that just has the character's put aside there differences. And that's just not compelling.

And this is something that the writers acknowledge as un-engaging. Here's a statement from Christian Linke.

"Many writers talk about being "character driven" without actually writing character driven stories. If you ask your hero whether or not they well help save the world from an alien invasion, the answer always is "yes duh". Thus the character doesn't REALLY have a decision to make. The sole question that remains is "HOW are they gonna overcome their obstacles?"--which is entertaining, but it really doesn't drive the story forward with full autonomy. I think Alex and I gravitate towards stories that leave characters with or even impossible choices."

Here's another quote from Amanda Overton.

"I think of this in terms of what a character hopes and fears. You have to know what these are (and make sure the audience knows too) and them to tug a character towards impossible decisions. I also think you have to be able to relate to these hopes and fears. As Christian mentioned, the fear of dying in an alien invasion isn't relatable. Neither is the hope of winning a civil war (for most people), what made Silco's quest for Zaun's freedom relatable is that it was rooted in the his hope that he could win back his brother Vander's resect. And without his respect, Silco feared he was the "dirty little thing" his station in life always ascribed to him. Fearing you aren't good enough, and craving respect from family are deeply relatable emotions, This is what a "character driven story" means to me.

Source: https://old.reddit.com/r/arcane/comments/yp9d4b/s1_spoilers_were_christian_linke_and_alex_yee/ivnapve/?context=3

So this here is why so many people have issue with this finale. It removes all meaningful choice from the two cities and "forces them" to work together. So nothing about this finale of "Two cities uniting against a common enemy" have any of the character's make any meaningful goals in the end and more like their working together out of moral obligation. This has been a huge problem with season 2

It introduces big grand out their things such as grand-time loops, alternate realities/multiverse, the Black Rose,Hive minds ,end of the world stakes all of which takes away from the more grounded interpersonal stakes that were established in the first season. On top of that you can't really juggle all of these plot points in 9 episode season without feeling bloated.

I get the whole "I'm the dirt under your nails" comment and how they are saying "There is still work to be done". However the finale had nothing to do with the "Class conflict", the only "real reference to the cities moving forward is Sevika having a seat on the council." Thats just too brief and is the only reference to the conflict between Piltover and Zaun we get after they were dropped in episode 4. And so it feels less like a meaningful step forward and more like a weak resolution. Yes 'No one wins wars". However this really isn't "A war" its just a copy of"Avenger's age of Ultron" generic and un-engaging.

“What happened to rebel Vi? Season 2 destroyed her character!”

“What happened to rebel Vi” is that Vander took her to the bridge where her parents died in his revolution and asked her what she was willing to lose. Then she meets Cait who is gentle and kind while still being tough and it makes her rethink how she sees topside. When Jinx tells her she changed too, that’s what she’s talking about.

I’m sorry if you thought Vi was going to be a topside-hating revolutionary in Season 2, but that’s clearly not where her character arc was going. Remember how she forced her way between Ekko and Cait? It seemed very straightforward that was the role her character was taking on.

I feel similar about people who act like the show was betraying its premise because it ended with reconciliation/Zaun and Piltover working together. Again, the fact that two of the most important relationships were between characters from both sides and that they made a point of talking about Zaun and Piltover first coming together against a common enemy was a pretty clear indicator that was the plan.

Now, I get being annoyed that that was what they chose to do. You don’t have to love the creative decisions of media, just like media doesn’t have to compromise its creative direction to satisfy you. But not liking that they went that direction is not the same as the show having bad writing or engaging in character assassination.

Everything Vi did in season 2 was very much in character with how she changed and who she became throughout Season 1. Hell, she used enforcers and Hextech to raid Shimmer facilities before Commander Kiramman ever threw on a beret. So, yes, actually wearing the uniform was a huge and complicated decision that she was definitely not happy about, but it also fell in line with what she had been doing.

There’s meat for another post at some point about the three different Zaun/enforcer partnerships we see in the show: Vander/Greyson, Silco/Marcus, and Cait/Vi; but I’m not going to go into that now.

TLDR: “Rebel Vi” who wants to fight all of topside hasn’t existed since the end of the second episode of the show.

Editing to add that Vi doesn’t see attacking Chem Barons as attacking Zaun; she’s taking down the people who are destroying Zaun.

[luigifan1998]

Hey idk where u manifested from but i love ur blog and i love u. Ur writing for wife hc’s left me devastated, 1,000% agree with all of it. That man is a fucking mess who wants to crawl under ur skin and it’s so sexy.

Thought I’d love for you to entertain: College Lu pining over u, the prettiest girl in one of his lecture hall classes. Him being so pathetically down bad for you he’s stalking ur social media desperately to find out more about u as a person, trying to see what direction ur off to after class, looking for u all around campus. Not knowing ur going insane doing the exact same thing in regards to him, because i am also willing to die on the hill that this man NEEDS to feel intoxicated off a mysterious gorgeous deviant mentally ill girl he’s plotting to speak to any day now.

this is so sweeeeet smooches you

you get the vision. growing up in such a prestigious family, an italian one at that, has instilled a fatal flaw within him. hes a morbid longer. source: trust me

morbidly longing for something he cannot find, did not find in high school, failed to access in college, could not obtain in maryland, hawaii, japan. hes soooo "its not a metaphor, this ache". much of his life has been about perfection and following rigid societal practices. he wants something disgusting and consuming and nauseatingly complex. my sweet im your man by mitski boy

in regards to the second part, his infatuation for you is anything but cathartic. hes losing sleep, losing focus. he cannot string a coherent thought together, much less engage in banter with his social circle. he pulls back and into the recesses of his mind that allow the perverse nature of his adoration to overtake him. his friends are relieved, assuming hes finally succumbed to the exhaustion from making himself available to everyone. theyre happy he can find rest. they dont know that the nauseating and near animalistic drive to check your internet presence is something hes sodden with shame over. he feels like a fraud for writing about the importance of divorcing ones self from the modern cellular device. despite it, the practice of poised fingers as to not alert you of his invisible attendance is something his resilience in the protest of social media has become soft to. knowing its wrong, pathetic, inappropriate, he feels like he has to punish himself in some way. in the ever-rare moments he finds himself alone, he touches himself and he doesn't allow for completion. invites the pressure build within, increased sensitivity and a gnawing desperation for release. he doesnt let himself be reduced to the inability to control himself from spilling into his cupped hand and down his cotton briefs until hes seen you in real life. a gift to himself. walking to class, talking to a mutual friend, swaying back and forth as you wait in line in the dining hall. this reverence is not sustainable without more give, and he is wearing like loved linens

hiding the way you feel for him is, in many ways, easier. you escape into buildings for majors you have never heard of when you spot him walking in your direction. you cherish the blessing of being able to use your hair as a curtain in which to protect yourself from the prospect of being perceived when in close proximity to him through your mutual friends congregating sporadically throughout the campus. you blame various ailments for reasons as to why you cannot go to gatherings you had previously agreed to attending. its heavy, this curse of needing. you want to drop to your knees and crawl to him, taking his fingers into your mouth and letting the love-conditional curse break, but you dont. cant. wont let it. it feels too good to have this private affliction be something you own. darkness on a leash, locked into a tower only you have access to. when nobody knows how you feel, not even him, he can be yours

[nyxnco]

.

[earl-grey-crow]

.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

There always seems to be one kid who just screams like a tornado siren, all day long, at any given opportunity. Like, kid, I love you, you are precious and deserve all the happiness in the world; but please for the love of god shut up. There are people trying to learn here and you’re not helping them or yourself.

[kelpiemomma]

"Khan? Who's that?"

Khan put his arm out, blocking Mina from stepping out behind him but also blocking the person approaching from going around him. He felt her hands grip his shoulder instead, hauling herself up to peek over. Though his face normally rested in 'bitch' mode he felt it shifting to more. His lips pulled back instinctively into a small snarl, a threat towards the one approaching.

He didn't like this person purely because of what he represented.

For the first time since he was a child Khan had found a friend. He'd found some sort of family. He'd carved out a place for himself, a home, in Hisui. He had gotten comfortable. And though he'd always known it was likely that it would end one day, that Ingo or Mina might recover their memories, that Akari might figure out how to move them all through time again, he'd been pretending that it wouldn't happen. That things would go on as they were. He could wander the land, maybe with someone by his side, maybe not. He could return somewhere to someone who would be happy to see him, who would greet him with a hug and ask about his wellbeing. How long had it been since anyone had been happy to see him?

The semi-peaceful existence he'd carved out for himself was under attack. It was unfortunate he hadn't realized this man had come through a rift or he'd have killed him before he could make himself known. Khan wasn't above that, wasn't above protecting himself and what he had found by all means necessary. Maybe it was selfish but he felt he deserved to be a little selfish.

"Do you know him?" Mina asked.

Unfortunately, yes.

He watched Emmet stroll towards them a few more steps, his face more lined and slightly more gray than Khan remembered seeing it on the television. The outfit was a far cry from that which he'd known before. He could recall hearing that Emmet had left the subway for one reason or another but hadn't realized the outfit had gone as well. The former subway boss had been looking behind Khan, looking at Mina, at his wife, but his gaze turned to Khan when his arm moved. His eyes turned sharp and steely, the smile going from something genuine to more like a baring of his own teeth. There was a challenge in his eyes.

Khan had never backed down from a challenge.

"No." Khan rumbled. It wasn't entirely a lie- he'd never met either subway boss in person before, only watched some of their commercials and shows.

"Well then, let me introduce myself. My name is Emmet. I've traveled a long way searching for some of my family. I believe they can be found here" The friendly snarl only got bigger. "Would you be able to help me?"

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

hey buddy if you're gonna turn the country into a reality show could you get less predictable writers

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[apollo-zero-one]

Too old to be a kid too young to be an adult just the right age to cry myself to sleep

[lovelyghst]

just imagine ghost getting his Jacob's ladder piercing while he's dating you and after it's healed yall have sex for the first time and it's just like sensory overload

i know absolutely nothing about piercings, but this idea is simply too good to pass up. my brain is melting.

hmmm, thinking about ghost who, despite not being able to properly get off himself, is still so attentive to his sweet girl throughout the whole healing process; offering you his mouth and fingers whenever he notices your focus beginning to drift off and shift elsewhere, having you rub yourself up on his jean-clad thigh when you can’t seem to shake the burst of energy.

because while you never outright asked him for anything of the kind, he just knew.

and even if you were the one so insistent on following the piercer’s advice—taking each and every precaution possible in avoiding the risks that simon shrugged off as ‘not gonna happen.’—you still felt bad. though, he couldn’t resist your stern pouting for long, turning weak the moment you cocked your head and promised him a sweet treat when he’s all healed up.

so, of course, ‘whatever you say, doll.’

anything to put your pretty mind at ease. he is a soldier, after all. he can wait, even if it kills him. it got pretty damn close to it, too.

which is what makes the first time back so fucking good. that reunion, and the return of that glimmering look you get in your eyes every other time he presses his pink lips to your collar and gently hikes you up the mattress after a long time away.

and truthfully, he was done in the moment you tapped him on his shoulder and told him to guess what day it was.

“shit, baby—” he grits out with a heavy breath, eyes trained on your own as he watches you reverently lick up the underside of his cock. your fingers tighten around the base when his abs pull taut, tongue gliding over the cool metal.

taking your time in feeling each and every barbell leading to the tip, making him twitch in your hand at the hot and wet drag over his sensitive skin. a heavy breath seeps from his lungs, his jaw clenching as he fights to hold off. jesus, you’re too good to him.

a sweet fucking treat, indeed.

you giggle before taking the head of him between your swollen, spit-stained lips, reveling in the quick hiss he sucks in through his teeth as you whine at the familiar taste of his pre leaking onto your tongue. your other hand slips up his thigh while you squeeze your own together, your freshly done-up nails leaving little, pink crescent shapes in his thick skin.

“fuck— not gonna last ‘f you keep that up,” he warns, a struggle in and of itself, and it’s an utter miracle he doesn’t collapse to the floor when you only hollow your cheeks and suck in response. he hardly manages to stifle an embarrassingly whorish moan at that.

god, you look so pretty down there, on your knees for him. so fucking debauched, and so, so perfect.

the way your thumb toys with the piercings as you have your own fun, and how you preen in his hold like a sweet cat when he slips a hand to the back of your neck. he’s going to miss it when he forces himself to pull you away, frowning at the pout you give him as he’s lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to your bed.

“’m sorry, sweetheart… just too fuckin’ pretty for yer old man anymore— didn’t want it t’go to waste.”

he kisses your temple, mumbling his apologies in your hair. you hardly even register your bare back making contact with your sheets, so wrapped up in his hold, before he’s kissing his way down your neck.

“wanna fill yer pretty cunt,” he murmurs, and it’s nearly incoherent as his lips press against your racing pulse point. “make ‘er cum ‘round my cock… know y’missed it too, sweet girl. a proper fuck…”

he’s talking more to himself than anything, and a small gasp from you follows soon after when his arm is snaked between your bodies and his fingertips make contact with your swollen, little clit. won’t even stretch you out with his fingers; he’s had his fill of that over the course of the last month. let him feel how much you missed his cock.

“poor thing’s soaked f’me, baby.” he groans as he adjusts on his forearm and regains his bearings, dick twitching against your thigh with every noise squeaked out from your throat. “cunt’s gonna take me just right, lovie… so fuckin’ well…”

he rambles a lot when he’s needy, you’ve come to learn.

you whine when his hand leaves you to take his cock in a fist, your nails digging into his chest and shoulder when he presses the head to your messy pussy. just the tip in and you’re already seeing stars, the shared moan between the two of you raw and pornographic.

he’s gritting out his swears before you try to shush his dirty mouth with a kiss, and he accepts it greedily, almost too eagerly.

your body reacts to his, simultaneously craving more and trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation all at once. your brain is fuzzy by the time he’s nearly bottoming out inside you, ears deaf to the unabashed sounds spilling from your lips as the feeling of his fresh piercings dragging against your every sweet spot burns itself into your memory.

and before you can catch your breath, a thumb is being pressed up against your sensitive bud once again, your legs constricting around him involuntarily as you jolt with a cry. heat prickles at your skin, his teeth at your jaw making your spine tingle.

he’s telling you to cum, begging you to make a mess of his cock.

his hand picks up its pace, hips grinding against yours sloppier than ever as he pleads right up against your temple for you to use him, just finish him off, fucking cum for him.

you squeeze around his cock like a vice and pull him straight under with you, arms locked tight around his neck as your pretty cunt utterly wrecks him. making him throb and twitch, fucking himself dumb through his high and wringing him dry of everything he’s kept pent up for you. at least for now, anyway.

his and your panting rings out in the room as he sits back on his knees, his cock still hard as he gently pulls out of you. watching his pearly cum bead from your slit, your chest gradually slowing down within the time he takes to drool over the sight of you.

it’s not long before simon has you laying on your tummy with your head in the soft sheets, a pillow slipped underneath your hips to prop you up. not making you do an ounce of work as he uses your warm, pliant cunt as his sweet cum dump for hours on end.

fucking you gently, lovingly, all while trying his best to keep his weight off your back. he kisses behind your ear, cooing praises and choked grunts that make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you can only giggle into the pillow nestled in your arms as he makes up for all the lost time.

filling you with load after load, the number becoming lost on your fuzzy mind after a certain amount, until your belly is achingly full and his cock is numb from overstimulation. only to coax you onto your back, easing your limp legs apart to watch his cum leak from your pretty hole. pressing a flat palm to your lower tummy, sighing in time with your strangled noises as your sensitive pussy drips more of his spend. leaning forward and licking it all up like some starved mutt; groaning at the taste, arms tightening around your hips as he eats his mess out of his pretty girl.

[wickjump]

ok i rambled a lot in the tags and there’s a STUPID TAG LIMIT so my thoughts are CONDENSED and LAMEand not smart. but i could be. i could be if i wanted to. also the second half of this is literally me just talking about krepicolor im So sorry i got so off topic and distracted. the first half is good tho and makes sense i think

Why am I chill with most color ships but eh or 😡 and 🙄 or 🫤 on most killer ships

[emmyrosee]

I have an image of this man, leave me alone I sWEAR TO GOD-

——

Geto does this thing with his nose.

It’s something you noticed not too long ago, something he does when he’s lost in thought, deep in his memories and trying to sort out the pieces of puzzles in his head.

His nose, the perfect nose on that perfect face-

Scrunches up.

It wrinkles under the thoughts moving around his head, twitching side to side with with monotone “uhhhhh…” when you ask him spontaneous questions.

It writhes when he tries to choose his words carefully, usually when they’re ones of scolding, and it almost takes your focus from the topic at hand to how absolutely precious the sight is.

And yeah, it wrinkles under the force of laughter that he lets out, when he’s deep in joy and his smile is too big to contain, but that’s a corner of love that’s reserved for his hidden dimples. His crinkled little nose is far easier to activate.

Even right now, as you ask him what dinners he has planned the rest of the week, you’re barely able to keep track of anything he’s listing off because that pretty little nose scrunches between the days of the week.

“I guess I got the hamster wheel going?” You tease, chin resting dreamily on the palm of your hand. He cocks a brow, his lip twitching slightly in annoyance.

Along with his nose, of course.

“What did you call me?”

“I didn’t call you anything,” you snicker. “In your head. You’re deep in thought.”

“…. What?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile stays all the same, “nothing, babe. I just like your thinking face.”

“You should like all of my faces,” he says, wrinkling his nose as if wanting to say more, but fighting it back.

You smirk. Then, you lean up to gently grip his chin and kiss the tip of that wriggling nose.

“You’ve got no idea, Suguru.”

[gyaruhana]

I am in desperate need for more 001 / the front man fics TwT

Could the plot be : when 456 and others try to take over the controls room (last ep), 001 protects her from the guards ( or told the guards over the radio to not attack the player) thank you!

Hwang In-ho/Front Man - Favorites

Synopsis: In-ho decides you don't deserve to die so he makes sure you survive.

A/N: sorry if this is rushed i am trying to get so many other fics done now too !!

Warnings: none

Perhaps this whole mission was a really stupid idea. The sounds of gunshots rang through your ears as you listened to the yells of everyone else who had made the decision to help. You were starting to regret your own decision of taking a gun and choosing to help just because Young-il was going. You’d probably die here honestly. There just seemed to be a never-ending plethora of those guards running through and shooting at you and you couldn’t help but start to panic. 

Fuck, maybe you should just turn around and pretend like you were never a part of this poor attempt at a takeover. You weren't ready to die. Not today, not tomorrow, not even a decade from now. You just had to hold the fort down a little longer though. Just until Gi-hun and Jung-bae make it to the control room. You could wait that out. It wouldn’t take that long. At least, you kept telling yourself that. That everything was okay when it really wasn’t.

You took a deep breath before raising your gun and shooting at some of the guards from behind the pillar. Unfortunately for you, you quickly ran out of ammo making you pull back with a quiet curse. You shove your hands into your pockets to see if you had any more only to realize you’re out of ammo now. “Shit! I’m out,” you say as you look at the others and put your gun down next to you. 

“I’m almost out too,” Hyun-Ju spoke and the others seemed to have a nervous look on their faces - a clear sign they were quickly running out of ammo too. You leaned your head back as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe. All you could think about now was how you were definitely going to die here. You shouldn’t have tried to play hero. You should’ve stayed out of this so you could leave here in one piece and with a fuck ton of won. You were too lost in your fear to hear what the others were saying now and also too panicked to notice Young-il’s eyes on you.

He’d hate to admit it but seeing you like that made him feel guilty. He was annoyed at himself for lowering his guard so much and catching feelings for you when he really shouldn’t have. It was too complicated to fall for you when you were just a player, totally unaware that he was going to betray you all before Gi-hun even got close to the control room. If life was perfect, he would’ve taken you with him but he knew you’d never forgive him if you knew who he really was. 

It was then when he looked at the fear on your face did he decide you were not going to die here. Not in these twisted games he ran. You didn’t deserve death and, admittedly, he cared about you too much now to let you die. His focus on you was broken when Jung-bae started talking through the radio announcing that they believed they were right beneath the control room but needed more ammo and backup if they were going to make it.

“Did you hear that? They need backup!” he yells out as he looks to the others. “Three of us will go, the others will stay! Join us when you get the magazines!” he continued to yell through the loud echo of the bullets. Two of the men quickly offered to go as backup for Gi-hun and Jung-bae prompting Young-il to also go. Just as he was about to get up and head to the control room, your voice rang out.

“Wait! Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at Young-il with worry. Although Gwi-nam and Jung-bae needed some help and ammo, you didn’t want Young-il to be in danger. You weren’t sure what you would do if he died considering he’d been such a good friend to you. You’d never be able to get over his death - you knew that much. 

In response to your worry for him, he gave you a small smile as he looked at you before nodding his head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry,” he says reassuringly. Seeing you look at him like that made his heart clench with both adoration and guilt. To know you worried for him almost made him rethink if he should be doing this or not. Of course, he quickly threw that thought away and turned around, heading to the direction Gi-hun and Jung-bae had gone. All you could do was watch him disappear through the door with a heavy heart as you pray this would work and he’d return unharmed.

Through the chaos of the shooting and the yelling, all you could think about was him. Even as everything went completely to shit and you all ran out of ammo after Dae-ho never came back and Hyun-ju left to go find him, you still kept thinking about him and if he was okay. Perhaps the threat of death being oh so real now was making you think about everything you had cherished in life - including the few days you got to spend with Young-il and how those days were arguably the best of your life.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t going to die here. Not as long as he was in control of these games. 

“Don’t kill Player 076,” he spoke through a radio to the guards after promptly shooting the guys that came with him and faking his death to Gi-hun. He shouldn’t be letting you live. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he did. He cared about you so much and he wished he could tell you the truth but he couldn’t. He’d just have to watch from afar and pull every string possible so you would live. He let out a sigh at the thought of you before quickly walking off to prepare himself to confront Gi-hun as who he really was - The Front Man.

You watched as your friends had no choice but to surrender until inevitably getting shot and killed. You flinched at the sound of the gunshots as you raised your hands in surrender and backed up. Were you crying? Yes. You were. Any sane person would be crying right about now after watching their friends die and realising they’re next to die. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” you begged as you closed your eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Except the worst never came. 

No. You were suddenly grabbed instead and pushed along as they walked. You weren’t sure what was happening. They had just ruthlessly shot your friends but they were leaving you to live? For what? So you could tell everyone what happened and teach a lesson to everyone not to try something like that again? You didn’t understand why you were spared when you really shouldn’t have been. You were just as guilty as the rest. You should have been shot too.

If only you knew the truth.

[mrsbarnesblog]

when the time is right

masterlist

summary: Rafe found out that you were secretly from him taking tests, not even realizing how much you struggled in silence about not being able to get pregnant

word count: 3.7k

warnings: struggles with getting pregnant, insecurities, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, Rafe is literally the BEST

Your vision got blurry when you looked at another negative pregnancy test, feeling nauseous and extremely tired from all of it. 

You and Rafe, after getting married almost a year ago, both decided that you wanted to have children, and you tried to do everything to make it happen. You consulted the doctor, you both stayed healthy, and your sex life was so good, but no matter how hard you tried, it was all for nothing. 

It became an unhealthy obsession of yours to buy these damn tests secretly from Rafe, hoping that one time you’ll see two lines, but always ending up throwing it in the trash can or hiding it in your drawer. You felt so bad, guilty, knowing that your husband did everything for you to give you the best life you could’ve ever asked for, yet you were unable to give him one thing that he wished for so badly. 

Rafe was perfect in every aspect of your relationships, even better than when you two were just dating. He was so loving, so caring, so protective of you, not missing a single day without saying how much he loved you. Family and love were the only things that he ever wished for, wanting to have someone always by his side and someone who he could’ve shower with all of the love and affection that he desperately needed to give away, as it was not the option during his childhood. 

He told you how much he wanted to have a baby, to raise him or her with you and be the best dad ever—the one that he had never had. And you wanted to give it to him, wanted to be happy with the love of your life. But the more you tried, the more frustrated you got, constantly seeing negative results, and hating yourself and your body for not being able to do it. 

Of course Rafe didn’t know any of it—you simply hid all of the possible evidence of your doings, thinking that he might change his mind and that he’ll get colder to you once he realizes that there’s something wrong. 

When you heard the front door getting closed and Rafe’s voice calling your name, you mindlessly shoved the test into the less-used drawer under some kind of napkin that was stored there. You looked in the mirror, wiping away a few stray tears and making yourself smile, even if it felt like you were empty inside. 

Rafe embraced you in his arms before you were even able to step into the living room, pulling you flush against his chest and burying his face into your neck. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” You felt the rumble of his voice on your skin, closing your eyes to relish the moment and throwing your hands around his neck. Rafe held you in his arms for a few long moments, running his hands up and down your back and mumbling some sweet things about missing you and the way he couldn’t wait to get home, but you couldn’t seem to focus, just distantly nodding your head. 

“What’s wrong?” He pulled away, instantly seeing your sad, empty eyes. He had always been so good at reading you, so you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he got concerned, placing a hand on your cheek and studying your face with a worried look. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing, Ray. I’m okay.” You leaned into his touch, giving him your best smile. 

He looked at you for a few moments without saying anything, and it was all you needed to know that he did not believe you even for a second. He took a deep breath, then took a hold of your face with both hands before capturing your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. 

“I know that you’re not, but I won’t push you. Take your time, you know I'm here for you, baby,  yeah?" He pecked your lips once again, and you nodded your head, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. “Now… I’m starving and I can smell something from the kitchen.” 

“I made your favorite pasta.” You smiled softly, twirling his slightly grown-out hair around your finger. 

“I fucking love you, you know that, baby?” You could barely register what was happening when Rafe’s hands manhandled you and threw you over his shoulder. With a possessive hand on your ass, he went towards the kitchen, finally making you forget about your worries even for some time. “The best wife in the world.”

Freshly showered and sitting in your bed, you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, while Rafe was doing whatever in your shared bathroom. There were some noises of him rummaging through the cabinets, cussing and mumbling something about the new razor that he had bought recently and now couldn’t find. 

It all continued for a few minutes until he suddenly went silent, and it was the moment when your stomach dropped. 

He found the tests. You knew that he did. 

He stood in the bathroom, eyes wide from shock, as he held in the palm of his hand a bunch of white and blue sticks, which surely were yours. He felt uneasy either from every single one of them being negative or from the fact that you did it secretly from him and so regularly. 

With your phone long forgotten on the bedside table, you jumped out of bed, only to bump into Rafe’s chest at the bathroom’s entrance. Your eyes instantly fell to his hand, seeing a handful of pregnancy tests, then looking up at his frowning face. The look in his eyes made you want to vanish away, just simply disappear from the face of earth, as your own eyes suddenly filled with tears. 

“How long have you been doing this, Y/N?” Your lower lip wobbled as you tried to not break down, hands shaking with tension, while you fidgeted with your wedding ring. “I asked you a question.” There was no anger or treat in Rafe’s voice, but it still sent shivers down your spine—you knew that he was disappointed or upset, and you hated that you went behind his back to do that. Not that you worried about him being actually mad, but the feeling of guilt and shame was eating you alive. 

“I-I don’t know.” You whispered.

“You don’t know?” He raised his brows, still holding all of the tests in between you two. “There’s like twenty of them. All negative, yeah? Why are you taking it so often, and why didn’t you tell me?” The frustration in his voice was like a knife to your heart, and with a sob of his name, you completely broke down. 

You cried the way Rafe had never seen before, taking him aback for a moment. You hid your face behind your hands, sobbing loudly and trembling from head to toe. He made a quick move to lay all the rest on the nearby table before protectively wrapping his hands around your form and holding you as close as possible. 

With one hand on your lower back while another stroked your hair, Rafe rocked your body from side to side. You couldn’t seem to stop crying, soaking his shirt with your tears and gripping it with your hands for dear life. All the frustration and tears you weren’t able to fully let out were now just spilling non-stop, and Rafe tried to control himself even if your full of pain cries were quite literally killing him. 

“I—I want to have a baby. I want to give it to you. I r-really do!” You almost whimpered in desperation, cutting Rafe’s heart open with the amount of pain in your voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, with my body. I’m sorry, Rafe. I want it so bad.” You tugged at the back of his shirt, burying your face deeper in his neck and seemingly struggling to even breathe normally. 

“Sh-h, calm down. Listen to my voice.” Holding you steady against his body, Rafe lowered his head to your ear to make sure that you would be able to focus on him. “Just breathe, it’s okay. You’re okay. C’mon just in and out.” He inhaled and exhaled, making sure that you followed his command before repeating it a few more times. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Now sit down for me.” He pushed you back towards the bed, and you obediently followed him. 

You sat at the edge of the bed, with Rafe kneeling in between your legs. He caressed your face, planting a loving kiss on your forehead, before sliding his hands down and capturing your own in his hold. You looked down at your interlaced fingers, unable to look up at your husband, ashamed and embarrassed, but still feeling his burning gaze on you. Some tears still slid down your cheeks, as you were seemingly unable to fully calm down. 

“How long?” He asked in a steady, calm voice. 

“Since we decided that we want to have a child? I’ve been doing them from time to time, but… recently it kinda got worse.” You shrugged, still looking down. Rafe took a deep breath, shaking his head in disbelief, and you felt your heart sinking. 

“It messes with your head, Y/N. Do you understand that?” He squeezed your hand, rubbing circles against your knuckles. “I thought that we decided that it’s going to happen when the time is right, huh? Show me your pretty eyes, sweetheart.”

“That’s the problem—it’s never the right time!” You finally looked up at Rafe, locking your eyes with his blue ones. There was no judgement or anger whatsoever, making you feel slightly weird about the whole situation, as you were constantly convincing yourself that Rafe would be mad when he found out. “It’s been like five months since I got off the pills, since we decided that we both want it, and nothing, Ray! Nothing! My stupid body just doesn’t work the way it should.” You sobbed again. 

Rafe cupped your face, wiping away the remains of your tears. His eyes softened while looking at you. “Stop saying it. Stop worrying yourself out and stop blaming your body, Y/N. You cannot control things like this, and if it didn't happen, then it’s not the right time yet, okay? It doesn’t mean that something’s wrong with you or your body.” His voice was surprisingly steady and firm, and you looked at him almost in awe, drinking in every word coming from your husband’s mouth. Rafe’s support meant everything to you, and even if you were worried before that, now he finally managed to calm a little part of you. “You’re perfect. You’re the way you should be. You’re mine, and I don’t want you to even doubt how much you mean to me.” 

Rafe didn’t look away from you for a second, making sure that you understood everything that he was saying. “I was afraid to disappoint you. That you’ll be mad, because I know how much you want it too.”

“What I want the most is for you to be healthy, happy, and safe, sweetheart. Seeing you like this breaks my heart.” He dryly chuckled. “And what I need is for you to not be so hard on yourself.”

“I’ll try.” 

A soft smile finally touched your lips when he slightly moved up to give your forehead another lingering kiss before moving down to your temple, then cheek, and then lips. “That’s my girl.” Rafe mumbled against your mouth and slowly deepened the kiss, making your worries fade away. Feeling his hands moving down to your waist and bringing you closer to the edge of the bed while you steadied yourself by laying your hands on his shoulders. 

“Ray…”

“Let me show you how much you mean to me. How much I love you.” He murmured against your lips, hands sliding under your nightgown and knuckles brushing against your tender skin. You shivered under his touch, eyes fluttering and brain barely able to form a response. It was always like that with Rafe—it was as if his presence and touch alone could make all of your worries and insecurities go away. He had a way of making you feel on cloud nine, both physically and emotionally, and at moments like this, when he quite literally praised and worshiped you, you wondered how you could ever think any less of him. 

He tilted his head slightly, peppering the side of your neck and your clevage with open-mouthed kisses, inhaling your sweet scent, while his hands were wandering down your body and pushing your legs further from each other. Rate leaned back for a moment, his eyes drinking your blissful face expression in as if you were the most breathtaking sight he'd ever seen. "You're everything to me." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "Do you know that?"

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his love. "I do." You whispered. "I feel it, Rafe. Always." 

He softly pushed your body back until you were enveloped in a bunch of blankets and pillows scattered around. He looked you up and down, feeling his heart racing at the thought of making you feel good, reminding you how much you meant to him because you were quite literally the most important thing in his life. Rafe for a second thought that, maybe, it was his fault that you started to spiral into that darkness of stress and worries of not being enough or broken. With constantly being busy at work, he couldn’t pick up the cues earlier and notice your struggles. 

Kissing down your body, dragging your nightgown up, and exposing your naked body to his hungry gaze, Rafe made sure to give you everything that he had and make you feel the way he felt about you. Rafe’s lips hovered over your stomach, brushing feather-light kisses against your soft skin as his hands caressed your sides. His touch was tender as his lips paused against your stomach, and he closed his eyes, his breath warm against you.

“We’re going to have a baby, sweetheart.” He murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination and love. “When the time is right, I know it. And you’re going to be the most amazing mother.” He pressed another kiss to your stomach, lingering there for a moment and making sure that the words sank in for you. “I’ll do everything in my power to give you the best and help you out, yeah? You’re not alone in this.”

Tears streamed silently down your cheeks as you reached out to run your fingers through his hair, your chest swelling with emotion at the raw devotion in his words and actions as you nodded to him. “Rafe…” You whispered, your voice trembling. “I love you so much.”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes glistening with emotion. “I love you more.” He said simply, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. He kissed your stomach one last time before his gaze darkened with desire, his hands sliding further down your thighs as he lowered himself between your legs.

You gasped when he suddenly just pulled your underwear down your legs and, not letting you process his further actions, placed your thighs on his shoulders before connecting his mouth with your dripping core. 

Rafe ate you like a man starved, alternating soft licks with sucking on your clit and almost bringing you to the edge. In a few minutes, you were a trembling mess, squeezing your legs around his head and mumbling something incoherent.

“R-Rafe.” You whimpered, your voice breaking as you felt the tension in your core building rapidly. “I’m—oh my God—I’m so close.”

He smirked against you, sucking your swollen clit harder and pushing the tips of his fingers against your entrance just to tease you. His lips curling into a grin that you could feel even through the haze of your pleasure. “I know, sweetheart.” He said, his voice low and gravelly. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

His words tipped you over the edge, and you cried out, reaching for his hair, tugging, as your body trembled while waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Rafe didn’t let up, his mouth continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left breathless and boneless beneath him.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your release, and his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.

His body was on top of yours in an instant, pushing you down into the mattress with his comforting weight. Placing a hand on the side of your neck, gently tracing your jawline with his thumb, and then pulling you closer for a kiss. 

You didn’t even notice the moment when he slipped inside of you, too lost in the aftershocks of your previous orgasm. He hissed at the way you clenched around him, instinctively wrapping your legs and arms around him and pushing his cock deeper into you. 

It was not the type of sex that you two usually had. Rafe was mumbling praises next to your ear with each thrust of his hips into you, and you were simply drowning in him, his love, and the ecstasy that it had all brought you. It was slower, deeper, and more intimate on every level. 

Rafe made sure to hit that sweet spot inside of you with every move, seeing your teary eyes rolling back in your head and your mouth slightly opening from pleasure. He never stopped, exploring your body with his hands, pinching your nipples, sliding down your stomach and causing goosebumps to raise all over your skin, and then ever-so-slightly brushing your puffy clit, until you desperately cried out his name. 

By the time Rafe was done with you, when your body was all tingly and exhausted from that sweet torture, you were laying face to face on your sides, with him still buried deep inside of you. Your leg was thrown over his hip, your shared release slowly dripping down and probably ruining the sheets, but neither of you seemed to care. 

Your eyes were barely focused, but your heart was full, and a soft smile was placed on your face. Rafe, slightly flushed and sheepish, was slowly caressing your cheek, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You smiled softly, your eyelids fluttering closed for a moment, letting the peaceful silence settle around you. The warmth of his body against yours felt like home, grounding you like nothing else ever could. There was no need to say anything else, because it felt like your bodies, your eyes, and your souls had already said everything that was needed. 

A few weeks later, as you sat in your bathroom with trembling hands, you stared at the pregnancy test on the counter. You'd been late, but you had tried to push it out of your mind, remembering your promise to Rafe to stop stressing out and overthinking.

Though this time, it felt different. Something inside of you was telling you that you were right.

And now, as the two lines were staring back at you, you were filled with a mix of shock, disbelief, and overwhelming joy.

Your heart raced in your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. Slowly, you walked out of the bathroom, holding a test in your shaking hands, finding Rafe sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he scrolled through his phone.

"Rafe." You whispered, your voice shaky, and he turned to face you instantly, sensing something was different.

“What’s going on?” Instantly he was beside you, hands on your upper arms, as his eyes were searching yours for an answer. 

Silently, you held out the pregnancy test to him, your hand trembling as you did. His gaze dropped to the test, and for a moment, everything stood still, heavy silence filling your bedroom.

Rafe’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. "Is this...?" He whispered, his voice barely audible. 

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks now, as you stared up at him. "We're going to have a baby, Rafe."

He stood frozen for a beat, his hands tightening on your forearms as he let the moment sink in, watching tears running down your cheeks. Then, without a word, he pulled you into him, his arms enveloping you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. You melted into his embrace, feeling his heart racing against yours. 

You both erupted into laughter, the sound of pure joy filling the room, echoing off the walls as Rafe pulled back slightly to look at you, his face lit with disbelief and happiness. He wiped away the tears from your cheeks, laughing through his own, his voice thick with emotion.

“I can’t believe it.” He said, his words trembling slightly. “We’re going to be parents. Told you that it's gonna happen when the time is right, didn’t I?”

You nodded with a smile, still holding the test between your fingers as the reality of it all settled in. “You did. Now it’s really happening.”

He kissed you, slow and deep, as if he were trying to savor every second of this moment, making you throw your hands around his neck and give in to the moment. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily as you shared the same smile filled with love and excitement.

“I love you so much.” He murmured, his hands resting on your waist as he held you close. 

You brushed the tip of your nose against his, looking up at your husband through your wet eyelashes. The look of pure adoration in his eyes made you want to giggle like a damn teenager, so instead you tightened your hands around his neck to be even closer. “I love you more.” 

[junicult]

!! the bachelors after their first kiss with you

contains ; fluff! gn!(but written with fem in mind)farmer for most. implied male in alex’s. non canon setting (for most). unestablished relationships—pre dating. alcohol usage. smoking (cigarettess).

note ; i had a nice time in my imagination with this one

harvey.

he stares at you, stunned at how easily you were able to do the thing he’s been thinking about for weeks. how soft your lips felt, how comforting your hand on his chest was, and how genuinely intoxicated just one simple kiss from you was already making him feel.

he clears his throat, and almost like you just sucked every word out of him, all he could muster up was a mumbled, “thank you.” he thanked you. for kissing him.

you purse your lips, trying your darnedest not to laugh watching his face just drop, realizing the first thing he said to you after you kissed him for the first time was a thank you.

“oh no, it was my pleasure.” you tease, allowing a small giggle to slip. he sighs like his blood has run cold, too embarrassed to even respond. luckily for him, you’re just too perfect, and you cool his sting by leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. you pull back with a smile, hand cupped over the opposing one, “goodnight harvey. i’ll see you tomorrow. you can thank me for that one, then.”

sam.

he acted almost as quick as you did, the moment he saw your eyes fixate on his lips and lean in, he wasted no time to fill in the gap between you two.

“you kissed me.” he says, face washed in amusement and adrenaline. he remains a solid grip where his hands rest on your lower waist, clear he has no intent on letting you go anytime soon.

“i might’ve.” you murmur, flickering your gaze to and from his. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think—

“are you all shy now? did i make you nervous?” he angles his head to chase your nervously wandering eyes, mischievous grin and tease in his tone. his hand consciously cups the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your jaw to gently force your chin up and maintain eye contact.

you huff, shaking your head. “well, a little! we just kissed!” you try not to sound too whiny—though, the way his grin spreads almost makes you forget that plan.

“aha! i made you nervous! am i so handsome? am i such a good kisser?” he muses, snickering in triumph.

“sam,” you test, narrowing your eyes through your eyelashes.

“what? you dunno know the answer? wanna kiss again to find out?”

shane.

he didn’t actually think you’d lean in, much less keep it going for so long that he’d have to push against you a moment later to give him a second to breathe.

but you shake your head, misinterpreting it all so quickly. “i’m sorry—i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have kissed you, i don’t know why i did that, i’m sorry—“

“whoa, i wasn’t pushin’ you away,” he immediately rouses, “i’m not mad that you kissed me.” and he snickers lowly, “more like pounced on me.”

“you’re not?” you hum breathlessly, straightening your pants and tucking pieces of your hair back. now your chest bubbles with a new kind of embarrassment. you nibble on your lower lip, attempting to ease your breaths. “i—i dunno why i did that. i don’t usually drink…much less makeout with people while i do.”

you slouch back down on the old, creaky dock next to him. he snorts, tilting his head, “‘m just too irresistible, huh?”

you shoot him a glower. “yeah,” you say like it’s sarcastic, but really, you’re well aware you aren’t drunk enough to start behaving irrationally. “i just didn’t mean to do that.”

“i don’t mind that you kissed me.” he shrugs.

you watch as he takes a swig from his beer can. his eyes focus on the overall still lake in front of you both. “you don’t?”

he almost wants to tease you for all your disbeliefs. he chooses to scoff out a laugh instead, shaking his head. “mm-mm.”

you turn to face the water, gently swinging your dangling legs over the edge. “hm,” you hum back, “maybe we should talk about that when we’re both sober.”

sebastian.

he’s borderline shocked at how easy it was for him to kiss you back—no hesitation after your fingers brushed the back of his hair to pull him in. he’s almost loopy, too, and he’s never been the type to swoon so hard from these kinds of affections. but he’s also learned a lot has changed since he first met you.

“you taste like cigarettes.” you murmur as you step back, licking your lower lip as if to repeat the taste. you turn towards the city lights, and for the first time he’s finding it nearly impossible to follow your gaze.

“i’m sorry,” he truthfully says, absentmindedly stepping down on the previously tossed cigarette butt at his shoe. “i’ve been trying to stop.”

“tastes like you, too. mixed in, i guess.” you note with a smile, “it’s not terrible though. but good, you should try and quit.”

he honestly doesn’t know how to take that—in his mind, he can’t imagine that tastes good, much less the combination any glorious. yet you turn to him again, stuffed hands unfolding from your pockets to reach across for his.

all you had to do was to give him a tiny tug, sliding your hands up his shoulders before he repositioned his own back to where they previously sat on your waist.

“let me bask it in while i can, though.”

alex.

you’ve almost never seen him with this soft, content look on his face. you’re half expecting him to burst into laughter, try to justify his actions with a teasing lilt and offer to pretend like it never happened.

but no. all he does is look at you, watching the way your eyes shift between each of his, evaluating. like he’s waiting for one of you to break.

you take the bait. “why’d you do that?” you murmur, quiet enough the wind almost picks it up.

he shrugs. “i dunno. it felt right.” he hums, and despite his uncertain words, he says it with sincerity. “was that the wrong choice?”

you think for a moment. for you, you surely thought about it for weeks. but the timing certainly didn’t feel appropriate. vulnerability changes a man like him most of all, and the last thing you’d want to do was take advantage of that. you absentmindedly swirl the grains of sand under your fingertips.

“no, i don’t think so.” you respond easily.

he nods. you’ve never seen him this quiet, but despite that, you’ve got an idea of what’s exactly going through his mind. when he turns away, you’re certain.

“you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“of course not.”

elliott.

he had almost forgotten why he invited you over—just for inspiration on the last couple chapters of his novel, or did he honestly plan for it to go like this?

“so…what happens after they…kiss?” you coyly murmur, still held in his embrace so close you can smell the drop of pomegranate on his lips.

“well, i haven’t written that far just yet,” he pauses to take a breath, “i was hoping they’d finally confess their love.”

he’s so handsome this close, your head still reels and lips feel fuzzy as you struggle to bring back in your even breaths.

you nod, slow and computing. “yeah—no, that sounds good.”

your plump lips hold him in a trance, as do his, making it so hard to concentrate on his words all the while you feel you’re too fixated on them.

“so you believe they love each other? that they should finally tell the other?”

the kiss rendered you thoughtless—what can you expect from a romantic like him? however, the metaphor is not lost on you. and had he let you go at this point, it wouldn’t have been so easy for you to eagerly nod, “absolutely. two people in love should tell each other they’re in love.”

[yawnderu]

>Being invited to have sex on camera was never in Simon's plans or Part II of Simon being obsessed with a pornstar.

Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to focus on you, shivers running down his spine at image in front of him. You're riding his meaty, long cock on your feet, the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs and your wet cunt mix in, forming a symphony he's never heard before.

His rough, calloused hands guide you up and down, feeling his numb nuts getting stickier as your cream leaks down his cock, perfect, pierced tits bouncing up and down right in front of his face. His eyes drift to the set up of cameras in different angles, all of them being displayed on a large TV as you record.

“Fuck, angel...” Simon grunts out, muscles bulging as he squeezes your pretty waist, trying his best not to cum yet despite how your experience mixes in with the desire, fucking him nice and hard, your hands using his hard chest as support.

He's barely lucid enough to push you off of his dick, registering your expression of surprise when he positions you in all fours, one of his warm hands coming up to make your back arch, getting a better look at your sopping, slutty cunt.

“Give 'em a good show.” He whispers only for you to hear, voice dripping with dominance. This is all he ever wanted; the chance to prove he could fuck you way better than any of your co-stars, better than any of the many people he's seen you fuck on social media.

His grip tightens on your waist, slamming into your needy cunt without a warning. He manages to catch the surprise on your pretty face first-hand, a small smirk forming beneath the mask when he sees you give the camera your trademark smile. Simon doesn't hold back, his thrusts aggressive and unrelenting, the natural curve of his cock hitting your spongy cervix in such a perfect angle that you're not even able to follow your regular dialogue.

“Harder...” You manage to moan out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips the moment the intensity in his thrusts builds up, becoming faster and more erratic. His hand snakes around your pretty throat, applying just enough pressure to add an extra edge of pleasure.

“Yeah...? Like that?” He growls in your ear, his voice low and thick with desire. You can barely nod your head, your hand coming up to hold his tattooed arm as he chokes you, holding you even closer to his imposing, burly body, his grip possessive and demanding. He can feel your walls tightening up around him, louder moans escaping your fucked-out body that only seem to encourage you to go harder.

“That's right, sweetheart...” Despite not being a porn actor, Simon's words contain a hint of affection that can't be denied by either of you, only making the tight knot in your stomach come undone. Your long nails grip the sheet, feeling the familiar sensation on your core before you're cumming all over his cock, coating every single inch in your needy juices.

Simon's thrusts become more intense when he realizes you're cumming, fully lost in the primal need to drag out your orgasm as he fucks you raw with pure hunger.

“Show 'em how much you love being fucked.” His hand drifts up to your jaw, applying light pressure and lifting your head up, making sure that your audience gets a perfect look at your face when you have a real orgasm for the first time on camera.

With his own words as the catalyst, Simon follows close after, his release washing over him with the intensity of a tidal wave, shooting ropes of thick, hot cum deep inside you.

Part I | Part III

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