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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 months ago

Note

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

#blackmonarque #scarlet lady praise #scarlet lady comic

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cowboybeepboop · 2 months ago

Text

Addicted

"But you're different. You've got me on my damn knees here, and I don't even care."

“On your knees? Now that's something I’d like to see.”

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut, romantic

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: A one night stand with Hangman leaves him desperate and begging for more.

Warnings: Public sex, making Jake beg, p in v sex, riding him, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex.

a/n: Not really much to say other than I hope you enjoy <3 Also send any requests my way, could be for anything :)

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the airstrip as the jets roared by, their engines a deafening symphony that seemed to shake the very earth beneath your feet. You had always loved this time of day, the way the light painted everything in hues of gold and red, making even the most mundane tasks feel like a scene from a Hollywood blockbuster. But today, the sight of the planes brought with it a feeling of anxiety rather than excitement. Training with Maverick was intense, and as one of the few women in the program, you knew you had to be twice as good to be considered half as good.

The bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where pilots went to unwind after a long day of pushing the limits of gravity. You scanned the room, spotting the familiar faces of your colleagues, all of them men. The only other woman present was Nat, known as Phoenix, a fellow Top Gun graduate who had become your closest ally in this male-dominated world. She sat at the bar, her eyes lighting up as she saw you, offering a nod that seemed to say, "You can handle this."

Bob, with his boyish grin and easy-going demeanor, was the first to stand up and greet you. He pulled out a chair, offering it with a gallant flourish. "You're looking as sharp as ever, Y/N," he said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration that made your cheeks warm. You sat down, grateful for the respite from the catcalls and lewd comments that had been thrown your way since you walked in.

As you chatted with Bob and Phoenix, you couldn't help but notice the blond man across the room, his eyes locked on you like a homing missile. You had heard rumors about him—Hangman, they called him—a cocky pilot with a reputation for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. His stare was unnerving, a silent challenge that seemed to say, "I'm going to make you mine." You ignored him, focusing on the conversation and the cold beer in your hand, but the heat of his gaze was impossible to ignore.

As you’re sitting with the two, talking, the man starts walking over towards you, coming to a stop next to Phoenix with a smirk on his handsome face. You look up at him curiously while Nat gives him a stern glare. “What do you want, Bagman?” she questions him with an accusatory tone.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, standing beside her, leaning his hip against the bar. "Can't a guy say hello without getting into trouble?" He joked, his eyes flickering over to you.

He looked you up and down slowly, a cocky grin on his lips. "I don't think we've met before." He muses, extending his hand out. "I'm Hangman, but you can call me Jake."

“I’m Y/N.” you ignore his extended hand, leaning closer to Bob to add distance between you and Hangman.

He raised an eyebrow as you ignored his hand, a smirk playing at his lips. "Playing hard to get, huh?" He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's cute."

He glanced over at Bob for a moment, taking his hand back and stuffing it in his pocket. "You two a thing?" He asked casually, his eyes flickering over to you again.

Bob opens his mouth to deny being with you. “Actually, yes we are.” you grin, taking Bob’s hand in your own. Right now you were relying on him to take the hint and play along with you.

Hangman's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you and Bob holding hands. He couldn't deny that he was a little surprised, he assumed you were friends. He tried to brush it off, but a hint of jealousy stirred inside him.

Unfortunately your plan to get Hangman to back off by pretending to date Bob, was going less than swimmingly. It seems he doesn’t care whether you're already spoken for or not. The evening drags on with him still sending heated glances full of desire your way.

Eventually, you decide to call it a night, as you say your goodbyes and start to head out of the bar, Hangman's attention is immediately caught by your departure. He watches you exit, his eyes following you as you make your way to your jeep.

He debates for a moment, contemplating whether or not to follow you. His desire wins out, and he makes up his mind to follow you. He says his own goodbyes to the group and discreetly follows you outside, keeping a couple of paces behind you.

“Are you going to say something? Or are you just planning to keep following me like some creep?” you lean against the hood of your car, arms crossing under your chest, eyes narrowing at him.

Hangman freezes as you turn around and call him out. He hadn't expected you to notice him so quickly.

He smirks and steps closer, closing the distance between you both. "Just admiring the view," he drawls, his eyes roaming over your form shamelessly.

“Oh is that so?” you hum, gazing up at him with an unreadable expression.

"Absolutely." He nods and leans against the jeep beside you, standing so close that your bodies nearly touch.

He looks down at you, his eyes darkening slightly. "You and Bob, huh?" He comments casually, a hint of a taunt in his tone.

“Are you jealous?” you reply with a teasing smile.

He lets out a scoff, pretending not to be affected. "Me? Jealous? Please." He rolls his eyes, but there's a flicker of something in his gaze that gives him away.

He turns to face you fully, his arm resting on the jeep behind you, trapping you in. "I just don’t get why you're settling for Bob." He says, lowering his voice. "What's so special about him, hm?"

“I’m not *settling* for Bob,” you hop up on the car, sitting on the hood with your legs crossed. “He’s a gentleman, very sweet, and damn cute.”

Hangman's eyes flicker over your body for a moment, watching as you hop onto the hood and cross your legs.

He grumbles under his breath, slightly annoyed that you didn’t seem to get his point.

"Yeah, Yeah, he’s sweet and cute, whatever. I can be sweet and cute too, you know. Sometimes." He counters, trying to sound casual and nonchalant.

“So you are jealous.” you giggle, leaning back on your palms, uncrossing your legs. “And what makes you so special?”

He glares at you, his jealousy bubbling to the surface. "I'm Hangman, sweetheart. I’m the best, hottest, and most talented pilot there is." He says confidently, his ego on full display.

He steps even closer to you, his body slotting between your legs now. He gazes down at you, his hand resting near your hip. "I could show you a good time, unlike Bob."

You flick your tongue out, licking your bottom lip. “A good time hm?” you wrap your legs around his hips pulling him against you.

A small gasp leaves Hangman's lips as you pull him closer, his body automatically responding to your touch. He places his hands on your hips, his grip firm but not rough. He looks at you through hooded eyes, his gaze dark and full of desire.

"You have no idea." He practically growls, his body pressed against yours.

“Sounds inviting,” you murmur, with a small smirk. “But I don’t make a habit of sleeping with coworkers… especially when I have a boyfriend.” your tone is teasing.

Hangman's eyes narrow as you remind him of your supposed relationship with Bob. He leans closer, his nose nearly touching yours.

"Please," he retorts, his breath lightly tickling your skin. "We both know you're not actually dating him. I saw the way he looked at Phoenix earlier. He's got it bad for her, not you."

“While that may be true,” you let go of his waist, pushing his chest with your hand. “My point still stands. I don’t sleep with my coworkers.”

Hangman stumbles back a step, a mix of disappointment and frustration on his face. "Oh come on," he runs a hand through his hair, "We're both adults here. Don't tell me you don't feel the chemistry between us."

He steps closer to you again, his hand reaching out to gently grip your chin, tilting your head up towards him. "One night, no strings attached. It can be our little secret."

“A one night stand..” you bite down on your bottom lip, “Are you sure you’ll be able to walk away after one night?”

He chuckles, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek. "Sweetheart, one night with me and you'll be the one struggling to walk." He says with a cocky smirk, his tone confident and full of male arrogance.

He leans in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. "I guarantee you'll be begging for more."

“I guarantee you’ll be the one doing the begging.” your hand goes to the back of his head, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Hangman's smug expression quickly vanishes as you pull him in, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss filled with fire and desire.

He lets out a low growl, his hands grabbing your hips and pressing you even tighter against him. He devours the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. As he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy, he looks at you with feral eyes. "Don't underestimate me, sweetheart. I never beg."

“Get in the car,” you brush your hand down his chest, fingers ghosting over his erection. “Let’s go somewhere a little more comfortable.” Hangman's breath hitches as your fingers brush against his bulge, the touch sending a shiver through his body. He nods eagerly, a mix of impatience and anticipation on his face.

"Alright, alright. You lead the way." He steps back, letting you get off the hood and move around to the driver's side. He opens the passenger door and gets in, his eyes on you watching your every move.

The drive to the apartment is filled with tension, Hangman's hands occasionally drifting to your thigh or hip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

As you enter the apartment and make your way towards the bedroom, Hangman's hands remain on your waist, his grip firm and possessive. He's practically glued to your back, the scent of his cologne filling your nose.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" He mutters into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. You turn around in his grasp, pressing a heated kiss to his lips, your own hands sliding down his body.

He groans into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you as close as possible. He returns the kiss with equal fervor, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity.

His hands roam over your body, sliding down your curves and gripping your hips. His touch is almost bruising, his need for you evident in every move he makes. He walks you backwards towards the bed, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving small kisses and bites in their wake.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, and Hangman guides you to sit down, his hands never leaving your body. He stands between your legs, looking down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

Hangman's hands, strong and insistent, began to pull away the fabric that separated your bodies, his movements quick and sure. Your shirt was the first to go, lifted over your head and tossed aside with the ease of a man used to getting what he wanted.

His eyes roamed over your bare torso, drinking in the sight of your firm breasts, the peaks of your nipples pebbled with desire. He reached for the clasp of your bra, his fingers deftly unhooking it before sliding the straps down your arms, leaving it to fall away and expose you fully to his heated gaze.

With a smirk, he went for the button of your jeans, his eyes never leaving yours. As the zipper lowered, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged, pulling them down your hips and over your thighs. You helped him, lifting your legs one by one, allowing him to remove your shoes and socks as well, leaving you in only your underwear.

His own clothes followed suit, the sound of fabric rustling and buttons popping filling the room as he stripped away his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and abs. His jeans were next, the leather belt unbuckling with a snap before the denim hit the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

He stepped closer, his hands sliding up your bare legs to the band of your underwear. With a single, fluid motion, he hooked his fingers in the fabric and dragged it down, leaving you completely bare before him.

You felt a rush of cool air against your skin as he stepped back to appreciate the view, his eyes dark with lust as they traveled over your body. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him as he removed his own boxers, his erection springing free and bobbing slightly with his every movement.

Your heart raced in your chest, the anticipation of what was to come making your stomach flip-flop. His hand reached for yours, pulling you to stand and bringing your bodies flush together. His erection pressed against your stomach, hot and demanding.

You felt his breath on your neck as he kissed along your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck, holding him closer as he continued to kiss and nibble his way down your body.

The feel of his bare chest against yours was electric, sending waves of heat through you. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You felt his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, and a moan escaped your lips as he rolled them gently, teasing and pinching just enough to make you arch into his touch.

He was methodical in his exploration, as if he were memorizing every inch of your body. With a sudden surge of confidence, you pushed him against the mattress, surprising him with your strength.

He chuckled, his eyes flashing with excitement as you slid on top of him, straddling his hips. You lined his hardness up with your wet heat, feeling the tip of him nudge against your entrance. The sensation made you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment.

Opening them again, you stared down at him, a challenge in your gaze. Without a word, you began to ride him, your hips moving in a rhythm that was both agonizingly slow and incredibly sensual.

He watched you, his eyes hooded with desire as he felt your wetness envelop him. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he held on for dear life, letting you set the pace.

His breath was ragged in your ear, his voice a low murmur of encouragement as you rocked against him. You felt him swell inside you, his length filling you completely, and you knew he was close to the edge.

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, your breasts smashing against his skin. The friction was maddening, and you couldn’t help but increase your pace, chasing your own release.

His hands slid up your back, gripping your shoulders as he pulled you down for a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue danced with yours as his hips began to meet your movements, the two of you moving in perfect sync.

The bed creaked beneath you, the only sound in the room aside from the ragged breaths and soft moans that filled the space. The tension grew, a coil tightening in your stomach, signaling the approaching climax.

You felt his muscles tense underneath you, his grip on your hips tightening, and you knew he was close. You leaned back, letting him take over, his hands guiding your hips as he drove into you with a ferocity that had you seeing stars.

Each thrust was a declaration of dominance, a claim of what was his. You threw your head back, crying out his name as the orgasm washed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of your mingled breaths, and the exquisite sensation of his cock buried deep inside you. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you collapsed against him, your chest heaving with exertion.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as your bodies remained connected, both of you lost in the aftermath of the passionate encounter. For a moment, there was only silence, only the sound of your hearts beating in sync.

Then, with a soft chuckle, Hangman leaned his forehead against yours. "You're something else, Y/N." He whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and satisfaction.

You couldn’t help but smile, your breath still coming in short gasps. "I aim to please," you murmured, before pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

He rolled you over onto your back, his body still inside of yours, and began to move again, slower this time, more deliberate. He wanted to savor this moment, to make it last as long as possible. He kissed along your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours.

The kisses grew more intense, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving small marks. You didn’t protest, instead, you arched into the pain, your nails digging into his back as he claimed you once again.

This time, the passion was more intense, more raw, as if the first time was just the beginning of something much more powerful.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, casting shadows across the wall as your bodies moved together. The bed rocked beneath you, the headboard thumping rhythmically against the wall, a silent testament to the passion that had overtaken you both.

As the second climax approached, you felt yourself tighten around him, your body begging for release. He groaned, his movements growing erratic, his need for you consuming him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he reached his peak, filling you with his warmth.

Finally, with one last, powerful thrust, he stilled, his body collapsing next to yours. You both lay there, panting and trembling, the sweat from your bodies mingling on the cool sheets. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

__________

The next few weeks are filled with tension between you and Jake. Where you are seemingly unaffected by the night you shared, Jake can't shake the memory of the night he shared with you.

He replays every moment in his head, relishing every touch, every kiss, every sound you made. He tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat whenever he sees you, the way his eyes keep finding you in a room, and the way his body responds to your mere presence.

You’re back at the bar, hanging out with the other pilots while playing pool. Jake can't tear his eyes away from you as you lean over the pool table, lining up your shot. He watches intently as your body moves, the way your hips sway, and the way the pool cue rests in your grasp.

He takes a sip of his drink, attempting to appear nonchalant, but his eyes never leave you, drinking in your every movement.

You notice his lingering gaze and shoot him a questioning look, feeling Bob’s hand snake around your waist as he pulls you into a hug. You lean into his embrace as he whispers a soft goodnight before he leaves.

Jake's jaw clenches at the sight of Bob's arm around you, a flash of anger and jealousy passing through his eyes. It takes all his self-control not to stride over and pull you away from the hug.

He watches as Bob leans in, whispers something in your ear, and then leaves. Jake's hands ball into fist, his knuckles turning white as he forces himself to stay seated. You walk over to Hangman, arms crossed.

“Jake, we need to talk.” your tone is firm. You’ve been noticing his lingering stares, the way he seeks out your touch and attention. It’s been a frustrating couple weeks.

Hangman looks up at you as you approach, his expression guarded. He knows exactly what you're talking about. The tension between the two of you since that night has been unbearable, and he knows he can't keep up the act much longer.

He tries to feign nonchalance as he responds, a cocky smirk on his face. "What's there to talk about? We had our fun, right?"

“Come on, outside.” you practically demand, glaring at him before leaving the bar. Hangman's cocky smile falters a little under your demanding tone, but he quickly recovers, grabbing his jacket and following after you.

Once outside, he turns to face you, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Alright, we're out here. What do you want to talk about?" His voice is casual, but there's a hint of wariness in his eyes. He knows this conversation is not going to go the way he wants it to.

“What’s your deal?” the two of you are off in a dark corner, hidden behind the bar. “You’re the one who said *just* one night, yet you can't seem to stay away.”

Hangman's jaw clenches, his carefree demeanor slipping for a moment. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

"I don't know, alright?" He snaps, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. "I didn't think it would be so damn hard to just walk away from you."

He starts pacing back and forth in the small corner, his body tense, like a caged animal ready to pounce.

You scoff, “You’re not the commitment type, so what exactly is this all about?” your gaze is hardened as you lean against the wall.

Hangman stops pacing, his back to you as he takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

"It's not about commitment, alright?" He says, turning back around to face you, his eyes meeting yours. "It's about you. I can't get you out of my goddamn head." His voice is hoarse, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before.

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed, expression full of confusion. Hangman steps closer to you, eyes searching your face.

"Don't look at me like that," he mutters, his voice gruff. "I...I don't know what I'm doing. I don't do this. I don't get attached, I don't get possessive. But I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop wanting *you*..."

He reaches for you, taking a strand of your hair between his fingers, his touch gentle. "Please..." His voice is barely above a whisper, a plea. "Please don't make me stop." your gaze softens as he moves closer, desperate for you.

Hangman's plea hangs in the air, his voice revealing more vulnerability than he's ever shown before. He's practically shaking from the effort of resisting his growing desire for you.

He leans in, mere inches from your face, his breath hot on your skin. His eyes lock with yours, a mix of need and desperation swirling in their depths.

"I *need* you, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I've never *needed* anyone like this before. You're driving me damn crazy."

“And here I thought you weren't the begging type.” You hum, hands going to his muscular waist. Hangman's breath hitches at your touch, his body responding immediately to your proximity. His hands find your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm not. Usually." He answers, his voice a low rumble. "But you're different. You've got me on my damn knees here, and I don't even care." His body presses against yours, his grip on your hips tightening as if he’s afraid you'll pull away.

“On your knees? Now that's something I’d like to see.” you tease, enjoying the feel of his body against yours.

Hangman's eyes widen for a moment as he registers your words, then his smirk returns, a challenge in his gaze.

“Is that right?” He drops to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs. He runs his fingers up and down your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“I’d do just about anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips hovering just above your hip. You gasp, legs spreading for him.

“Yeah?” you guide his hand under your skirt, back pressing against the wall. Hangman's eyes darken as his hand moves underneath your skirt, his touch sending shivers up your spine. His breathing is ragged, his gaze hungry as he looks up at you.

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Anything, sweetheart. Just tell me what you want." His hand moves higher, his fingers tracing the hem of your underwear. His tongue slips out, running along his lower lip as he watches your reaction.

“Jake,” you whine his name, “I need you,” your fingers move to his hair, pulling him close. Hangman lets out a low moan as you pull on his hair, your words making his chest tighten with desire.

"Yeah, that's it. Say my name," he practically growls, his nose brushing against your inner thigh as he presses closer to you.

"I'm goin' crazy here, darling. Tell me what you want." His hands grip your thighs, his mouth trailing soft kisses along your skin, moving higher and higher until he reaches the edge of your underwear.

“I want you..” you gasp. Hangman's lips move against you, his breath hot against your clothed skin. He pulls you closer, his grip tight on your ass, as if he can't get close enough to you.

"Do you taste as sweet as you look, sweetheart?" He murmurs, his teeth nibbling at the fabric separated you, you gasp in response desperate for more. "I'm dyin' to find out." The bulge in his jeans is now apparent, his desire for you straining against the fabric.

Hangman looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes filled with a combination of need and heat. He pulls gently on the fabric of your underwear, his voice rough as he speaks.

"Can I take these off, sweetheart?" His hand moves up your thigh, his touch gentle. "I need to taste you, every inch of you."

Jake's gaze is intense, his eyes locked on yours as he slides your underwear down, revealing your glistening core. You nod the cool night air that kisses your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your legs.

He kisses your thighs, working his way closer to your center, his breath hot and his mouth watering. As he licks you, you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure.

His tongue moves in a slow, deliberate circle around your clit, teasing and taunting you until you can't help but whimper. He smirks, knowing he has you on the edge, and continues his sweet torture, his hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You lean back against the wall, supporting yourself as his mouth works magic on your body. Your legs tremble, and your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer as you feel the orgasm building deep within you.

His tongue slides into you, stroking you deep and slow, and you can't hold back anymore. You moan out his name, your body convulsing as the climax crashes over you like a tidal wave.

Hangman doesn't stop, even as your legs give out and you slide down the wall. He holds you up with one hand, his mouth still working tirelessly. You're lost in the sensation, your mind a whirlwind of pleasure as he devours you.

Finally, you manage to push him away, gasping for air. "Jake, enough," you murmur, your voice shaky. He chuckles, standing up and pulling you into a standing position.

"I'm not done with you yet," he says, his voice low and full of promise. He kisses you deeply, his tongue tasting the sweetness of your orgasm on his lips. You melt into the kiss, your body craving more of him.

Hangman's hands move to the button of his jeans, fumbling slightly with the zipper. His desperation is palpable, his breathing heavy as he works to free his erection. He pulls out his cock, thick and hard, the moonlight casting shadows over it.

You moan into his mouth as he lifts you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist. He presses you against the wall, your hands holding onto his shoulders for balance. His tip teases your entrance, coated in your juices from earlier.

With a gentle nudge, he slides into you, filling you up. Your walls clench around him, trying to keep him inside. He groans into your mouth, his hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm that has your toes curling in your boots.

You're both lost in the moment, the cool night air surrounding you as he fucks you in the alleyway. His movements are deliberate, each thrust a declaration of his need for you.

Your hands move from his shoulders to his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jaw, feeling the stubble that's grown in since the morning. You break the kiss, panting for air as you stare into his eyes.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with passion. Hangman's eyes flare with desire, his hips moving faster, his strokes deeper.

The bricks of the alleyway press into your back, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies move together in a dance as old as time.

You can feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing as he fights for control. But you want more, need more. You rock your hips against him, urging him to go harder.

He obliges, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hands gripping your ass tightly. You throw your head back, your moans echoing through the deserted alley as you reach for your own release.

Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, your body spasming around his cock. Hangman groans, his own climax following quickly behind, filling you with his warmth.

He holds you there, his body shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of the moment etched into every line of his face.

Slowly, he lowers you to the ground, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound. You lean against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

He tucks himself back into his pants, his gaze never leaving yours. "I can't get enough of you," he says, his voice gruff.

You laugh, the sound a little shaky from the intensity of the encounter. "Is that so?"

Hangman's eyes never leave your face, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. His hands grip your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle at the same time. He leans in, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Damn right it is," he murmurs, his voice low. "I'm addicted to you, sweetheart. Can't get enough." he kisses your shoulder, pulling your waist as he presses you to him.

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dailyadventureprompts · 9 months ago

Text

I've got a new d&d group and they're almost all new players, with some of them having played with me before in oneshots/ gotten a couple sessions into campaigns that fizzled.

There's the usual learning pains: No one's quite got a handle on the rules yet and is relying on me for which dice to roll ( it's a D20 friends, it's always going to be a D20 unless it's damage I don't know how many times I have to say that). Person A is nervous and over-talkative , person B is nervous and withdraws from conversation, Person C is always running a little late...

But what really surprises me is the difference between them and the group I've had going for 2 years now:

Newgroup THEORIZES in a way that I don't think I've ever seen despite playing this game for two decades. I'll ask them what they're doing and they'll have a multi-minute chat weighing the value of different options. They don't turn to ME, or ask me if things are possible ( which is what new players tend to do), they turn to eachother and ask if they think it's a good idea that they do X or Y and then what could happen from there. I'm trying to be a good DM and let them learn the ropes but it's FASCINATING response. For example; the barbarian says "I'll use my shield to pin the monster in place so we can question them about the villain" and before I can even get into my response another player will say "but what if I used my rope instead to tie them up?", meanwhile none of them have confirmed if the monster is in any way related to the villain or is capable of speech (it wasn't, it was a mimic fyi)

Newgroup is LASER targeted on their goal, which was a surprise as someone who was DMing for a party that purposefully jumped ship on the A plot ASAP and is actively resentful of anything resembling a main quest. Newgroup passes through a mining village that's been deserted after a recent attack by monsters which drove people up into the hills, a Classic rescue mission with a bit of a dungeon delve on top, intended to give the party some XP and magic items before they leave the early game and I stop pulling my punches. Newgroup stays just long enough to confirm that the monsters have nothing to do with the A plot and unanimously decide to leave the village post haste. Meanwhile I have to be careful about what information I drop to oldgroup, as if they catch a single whiff of villanious wrongdoing they'll drop what they're doing and divert their attention to wiping that threat off the map. I've now had to have multiple villains make peace treaties in all but name with this party because of their habit of knocking out rivals/threats/governments.

Because oldgroup know the game really well they're less experimental with what they want to accomplish. They know that things can be solved through class features/dice rolls/damage, and so those are their default solutions to most problems. Meanwhile newgroup has no IDEA what the limits of the game system are so they're trying clever stuff left and right. " Can I hit it in the eye with my arrow? Can I use this spell to find out if _____, Can we use the flying boots to _____?" They're asking genuinely good questions so often that it's made me want to play around with the d20 resolution system to get something more closed to the " drawback/mixed success" sorts of results you get in apocalypse world style games. ( I think I found a neat fix, more on that to come)

#dapper digresses

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fairyofshampgyu · 1 year ago

Text

Why do you hate me?

Pairing: class president! kai x stoner! reader

genre: smut, crack

warning: sub! kai x dom! reader, use of drugs, sex whilst high, riding, humping, semi public, nipple play, corruption kink (?)

word count: 1.5k

“As you all know there was a big fight that went viral and was shared across numerous platforms between two students last week.”

Everyone excitedly burst into chatter and giggles, talking about the fight between choi beomgyu and choi soobin when they had—more of a hair pulling fight—over beomgyu stealing soobin’s last strawberry drink and throwing it over the fence.

“Please don’t film these kinds of situations or spread them. We’ll be looking out for the main perpetrators who filmed and spread this. It’d be helpful if anyone had any information. We should all be upstanders not bystanders!”

The whole class not so subtly, stares at Kang Taehyun, the said culprit and who filmed the entire fight, dealing out the whole, ‘exclusive’ recording to see who actually won for $20. He appears nonchalant though, sitting in his seat upright and also looking around the classroom in shock, feigning innocence.

“The two students have been dealt with accordingly and will both be in seclusion until further notice. Oh! Also the last concern raised with the committee was the littering issue going round. Please make sure to not leave your food or litter around and clean up after yourselves!” Huening Kai stood at the front of the class, enthusiastically and confidently delivering his speech as class president.

The students erupted into cheers and claps and whistles for their adored class president. Everyone loved huening Kai. It was hard not to when he was so friendly and good looking, greeting everyone with a wide smile as he passed the corridors, most squealing over his charisma.

However, you were one not so fond of his sunny disposition. You didn’t like how he adhered and maintained the rules whilst you actively tried to break them. You found his cheeriness and enthusiasm and the way people fawned over him quite irritating in actuality.

You rolled your eyes, turning to talk to your other stoner friend Taeyong about how annoying the class president was.

“With how much you talk about huening Kai, I’d think you actually have a crush on him or something.” Taeyong raises one of his pierced brows.

“What? As if!” You let out an incredulous scoff.

“I’m just saying you talk way too much about how you dislike him, never for a plausible reason. It feels like you’re actually obsessed with him. Your enemies to lovers arc?” Taeyong snickers.

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.” You elbow him in disgust and go on to chatting and complaining about something else.

Huening kai had caught your eye roll after his speech as he sat back in his seat, frowning and becoming overridden with confusion and sadness. He knew you had never liked him and he just couldn’t wrap his head around why, wanting to fix things with you so badly if he could.

“Oh! Kai!” The teacher stops him in the middle of the hallway, exhaling a breath of relief after finally catching up. “I’m really busy now so as class president could you go and look into some of the students hiding and smoking behind the art block all the time? We need to actually deal with this problem of drugs in our school. Inspectors are coming in soon we need to look good and not have them walking in seeing students smoking.”

“Sure thing, miss!”

“And make sure you report back to me the names of students there. Thank you, Kai.”

Huening Kai sighs, teachers always loved to dump their issues and own work on himself using it as an excuse that he was the class president and giving him way too much responsibility than he should have. He practically did everything around here and it could get quite stressful being so relied on at times.

Kai follows the trail of smoke he can see to the hidden part behind the art block. Everyone should be in class right now so he wonders who it is that is smoking.

When he makes it there his eyes catch yours, the only person here and he must say, he’s not that surprised.

“You should be in class right now with everyone else, y/n.”

You roll your eyes and stare at him with disgust, “Wow it’s the class president ready to ruin the mood again.”

Kai frowns, face resembling that of a kicked puppy and looking back at you with a pout, “Why do you hate me so much, y/n? Did I do something? Is there any way I can fix it?”

Your mouth parts in surprise, taken a back by how genuinely upset he seems about it. You can feel a little pang in your heart seeing him this way, feeling like you have to immediately change it and you don’t know why.

“Uhh…I don’t-I don’t hate you, Kai. I just-you’re not my favourite person in the world.”

He seems more upset by that, bottom lip jutting out.

“Um! I mean…I don’t know…We’re just very different people”

“I don’t mean to make you feel so unequal. As class president-“

You groan, “Do you ever give that a rest? Don’t you ever get bored of that?”

“Actually, it does get quite tiring and stressful sometimes being so depended and admired on by everyone, thinking that I can do everything. I guess you never really have though.” Huening kai comes to sit on the bench with you.

You pause in thought, placing the joint to your lips again, “You know what would make you feel better?”

“What?”

“This.” You wavered the joint.

“I-I shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’ll make you feel good, no one’s around.”

Huening Kai contemplates it with a worried glance, eventually giving into the temptation of it. “O-okay…just to try though.”

Kai accepts the joint with trembling fingers, looking at you to see if he's doing it right and taking a puff before spluttering and coughing and you laugh a little.

It's not a long before the weed starts to kick in as you both take turns passing the joint and taking drags, laughter and giggles mingling with the smoke that curled and enveloped you both.

Caught up in the hazy euphoria, both your eyes meet, locking in a trance-like gaze and your eyes flicker down to his pretty lips for a second and he does the same until something comes over you and you can’t resist, quickly leaning in and cupping his cheek, smashing your lips with his.

Yeah, It’s the drugs. You’ve definitely never thought about this moment before.

You make out with kai in a frenzy that matches both your heightened state, soft lips moving against each other and you move to straddle his lap instead, causing him to look up at you in surprise. You grin before trailing the rough kisses on his neck instead and he can’t contain his embarrassed whimpers anymore, cheeks so hot and flushed as you caressed one of them.

You can feel him growing harder underneath you and you pull him closer, grinding against him.

“Y-y/n!” Kai yelps and gasps, scrunching his eyes shut at the feeling and contact of his dick.

You do it again, his reactions so amusing. With a particular rough roll of your hips, kai’s eyes roll deeply back, gripping onto your hips until he starts to chase it as well, hips moving of their own accord and rutting against you with his mouth agape.

Huening kai’s usual well articulated, spoken and composed self long gone, easily replaced with flushed cheeks and a mixture of stammering breaths and whimpers and moans as you both continuously grind and hump against each other.

In a rush you undo his pants, his flushed and thick cock springing out and kai shyly hides in the crook of your neck. You take his dick, pushing your panties aside and slowly sink down on him, kai biting at your neck and moaning out loud.

Slowly you ride him, having to cover his mouth with your hand from how obvious he was being as tears welled up in his eyes.

You lean to whisper against his ear, nibbling at it and thumbing over his impossibly red cheeks, “You’re such a good boy.” Which only spurs him more on and his muffled whines.

You deliriously bounce on his cock, sounds so sticky and obscene, removing your hand and attaching your lips with his again and drinking up all his noises, quickening your movements to get him to the edge, hands going up his buttoned shirt to roll your fingers over his pretty tits.

“t-think m’close…”

“Cum for me.”

And he moans even louder than he has, hands gripping on your shirt for dear life and head lolling back, body trembling as his cum spills in your pussy and you moan as well, both your eyes filled with a dazed satisfaction.

He rests his forehead with yours and pants heavily, you ruffling his hair as his eyes still flutter open and shut, suddenly taking in the weight of what just happened.

“I-I know shouldn’t have…b-but I liked it.” Huening kai sheepishly stutters, still breathing heavily.

You smile, sheen of sweat on your forehead and kiss him one more time, “Same.”

Huening kai decides not to report the person smoking behind the art block, instead finding himself frequenting there just to see you and smoke and make out, a secret new found place where he can relieve tension and stress.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s discouraging and sad when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨 Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write :) !

Taglist: @jayoonology @banggyu0308 @idontwantoeatspicy @lovelyhyuka14

#txt smut #huening kai smut #Kai smut #sub txt #sub! txt #sub! idol #sub!idol #dom!reader #kpop smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #txt headcanons #huening kai x reader #huening kai headcanons #txt reactions #kai x reader #txt scenarios

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max1461 · 6 months ago

Note

Would you say that the distinction between high-context and low-context languages is real? I was skeptical at first, but japanese seems to leave a lot more information implicit in a typical utterance than english.

No such distinction is used (or at least commonplace enough that I have heard of it) in linguistics. If one were to introduce such a distinction, they would have to put forth some way to measure or operationalize "low/high-contextuality"; in the absence of that there's very little I can say about it scientifically.

What I can say is that laymen's subjective impressions about "what different languages are like" are very often more grounded in bias than in fact. There was a good post that went around here a few months ago to the effect of

People everywhere: "[Language I learned in childhood] is so subtle and emotive, whereas [language I learned in adulthood] is so cold and logical".

Often, these subjective impressions then get filtered through the cultural-theorizing-industry and elaborated more and more, becoming more entrenched as "established wisdom" about X or Y language among non-linguists, and in the process getting farther and farther from any real or verifiable truth.

Well anyway, I think the claim that "Japanese is more contextual than English" is probably one of those. Until someone comes up with a real metric for "contexuality", at least, I will probably continue to judge that to be the most reasonable hypothesis. Here are two ways such an impression could have come about:

For English speakers who learn Japanese as adults, things which are left to context in English but not in Japanese will not appear to be "absent" and they won't notice any gaps, whereas things that are left to context in Japanese but not English will strike them as "absent" and they will be more aware of them.

English speakers who speak some Japanese but are not proficient will not in fact be fully familiar with the rules governing the interpretation of utterances, and so things which are actually grammatically determined may appear to rely on nebulous "context".

Here is a salient difference between English and Japanese: in Japanese, any noun phrase may be dropped "when its meaning can be contextually determined". For example, you might say

(1) kinou inu ga nikki tabe-chat-ta! yesterday dog SUBJ diary eat-COMP-PST "yesterday my dog ate my diary!"

(2) wanpaku da yo naa naughty COP ASS TAG "he's sure naughty"

In (1), we see that where English has possessive pronouns ("my"), Japanese doesn't use them. In (2), the noun phrase referring to the dog is dropped entirely. In fact, in both of these sentences, not dropping these things would be considered unnatural and stilted. Overuse of pronouns and NPs is a common marker of non-fluent Japanese as spoken by Westerners. Saying

(3) kinou watashi no inu ga / yesterday me GEN dog SUBJ / watashi no nikki tabe-chat-ta! me GEN diary eat-COMP-PST "yesterday my dog ate my diary!"

instead of (1) would technically not be ungrammatical, but would be markedly foreign sounding and corrected immediately in any intro Japanese class.

However, this already tells you something: the fact that (3) is unambiguously unfelicitous tells you that there are some underlying rules here, it isn't just "drop when you feel it". These rules are called information structure rules, and every language has them. In fact, Japanese explicitly marks information structure in a number of ways that English does not.

Some of the basic rules in Japanese of relevance here (this is a fairly crude analysis and does not account for various things, but it's probably good enough for our purposes) are:

Every discourse has a topic

If no topic is specified, the speaker is by default assumed to be the topic

A non-topic subject may be introduced into the discourse with ga

A noun already in the discourse may be made into the topic with wa

A salient subject already introduced, but not explicitly topicalized with wa, may be implicitly topicalized

Empty NP positions and unmarked possessors should be taken to refer to the topic

Items that are (semantically speaking) likely to be possessed should be interpreted as possessed before they are interpreted as indefinites

These rules are not inviolable, and in particular (5) requires some contextual definition of "salience" and (6) is certainly not this simple in reality (there are often multiple empty NP positions and the full ruleset for interpreting them seems complex; for instance subject positions are favored for topics over object positions and so on), so there is still some amount of combinatorics with referents and syntactic positions that presumably is going on somewhere in speakers' brains or whatever. But the point is that these rules narrow down pretty starkly what interpretations are "reasonable", and the actual role of context in disambiguating between reasonable interpretations is not so vast.

Anyway, using the above rules, it is not so hard to go through (1) and (2) again, and see that only a single reasonable interpretation actually presents itself.

As mentioned, Japanese very often makes information structure explicit using the particles wa, ga, and wo (not mentioned above, but the object equivalent of ga), which is somewhat uncommon among the languages of the world. English, on the other hand, does not do this. English speakers do not drop noun phrases, but they still replace noun phrases with pronouns very readily, and disambiguating pronoun referents uses pragmatic and information structure rules of exactly the same type! Consider, for instance

(4) My boyfriend went on a "boys trip" with Will and Tod last weekend... I told him not to let them pressure him into skinny dipping again. What was up with that anyway?

Think about what you're doing when you assign referents to these pronouns. It's automatic so you don't notice it, but is it unambiguous? Not at all! You know, for instance, that "him" refers to the boyfriend and "them" to Will and Tod, and you know in the second sentence that "that" refers to peer pressure skinny dipping. Some of this (in particular the referent of "that") I think has to be chalked up to pure context; it's the semantics from which we derive the correct assignment. But some of it is mediated by syntactic or information structure rules as well; for instance consider

(5) Jacob went on a "boys trip" with Will and Tod last weekend... I told him not to let them pressure him into skinny dipping again.

We are still able to produce the correct pronoun assignments in this sentence, even though the semantic context which informs us about which one of these people the speaker is most likely the closest to has been removed. This is, again, a product of information structure rules: Jacob is the topic here, and so (by whatever rules operate in English; not identical but not dissimilar to those in Japanese) we infer that "him" refers to Jacob.

Anyway, the point is that all languages make reference to context very freely in matters of interpretation (which is a big part of why language models had to develop implicit world knowledge before they could speak convincingly), and also languages make reference to context in a structured way which can often be described fairly precisely, and which leaves less open to chance and misinterpretation than might initially be assumed. The gulf between English and Japanese is not so large here. It might be the cases that the [pronouns + unmarked topicalization]-English system is more explicit than the [empty NP positions + marked topicalization]-Japanese system, but I don't know. And of course it might be the case that in some other domain of grammar Japanese is more explicit than English. So one must be careful with any broad assertions.

#linguistics #knee hone go

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another-goblin · 5 months ago

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Spoilers for 2.3

Some thoughts, speculations, and headcanons about our little dialogue with Ratio (+more)

1. This tells me that Ratio and Aventurine are friends (or as close to being friends as both of them are currently capable of, which isn't much, but still). Yes, what Aventurine thinks about TB could have been them discussing their mission. But I choose to think that they just chat with each other sometimes, because they actually enjoy it. Aventurine feels comfortable enough to just share what he thinks about the people he meets, and he knows that Ratio is interested in his opinions, and he's right. He listens and takes note. btw people being actual friends is my favorite trope for romantic couples.

2. Ratio seeing his relationships with Aventurine, and our TB, and people in general as a teacher and a student and being constantly in his teacher mode made me think. Probably all significant relationships in his life were those of a teacher and a student. He cannot see himself in any other role because he has never experienced it himself. I wouldn't be surprised if even his parents provided him with knowledge and education instead of parental love. This may also be why he's so frustrated with people who don't fit these two roles: normal people not interested in bettering themselves through education, students who don't take studying seriously, most scholars, and especially the Geniuses, for not actively sharing their knowledge or doing anything to uplift humanity.

3. Ratio seeing their relationship with Aventurine in particular this way is appropriately weird and a bit unhealthy, in my opinion (but what did we expect from him), considering that they are undeniably close. But that's probably the only way he knows to show his care for somebody: to teach them stuff and help them better themselves.

4. On Avenrutine's side, he seems amused by it, in a good way (the way he playfully refers to Ratio in the descriptions of some of the 2.1 quests, "Your professor friend," and so on). He even seems to be a bit proud that an actual professor has taken an interest in him.

5. But what can he teach Aventurine? He might share his actual knowledge. I think the "Death" and "Dormancy" part of his note is him doing that. But he mostly sees his duty as a teacher in showing people that they can achieve a lot by themselves if they stop relying on higher beings who don't care about them and start relying on themselves (with little help from Ratio.)

But "relying on himself and achieving things" is what Aventurine has been successfully doing most of his life. So is it the "little help from Ratio" that matters here? Or is he helping Aventurine stop relying on his supposedly supernatural luck and realize how capable he actually is?

6. This. (btw 'philosophical zombie' means "a being in a thought experiment in philosophy of mind that is physically identical to a normal human being but does not have conscious experience" (from wiki), so basically just some weird concept in philosophy.) But what an admirably in-depth knowledge of his 'not partner' he's showing here. Are you equally interested in the inner worlds of all your students, doc?…

7. Anyways, that reminded me of what Jade said about the Stonehearts, even using the same word 'void'. So. Aventurine has a void in his heart, caused by his inability to protect people he cares about. It's very significant that Diamond gave him the power of Preservation specifically to help him fill that void, to be finally able to protect somebody he cares about. The problem is, he doesn't have anyone to protect anymore (he doesn't even see himself as worthy of protection). Until recently. So, and I'm being extremely self-indulgent here, if Ratio got in danger, Aventurine protecting and saving him would fill the void in his heart. And btw what can boost one's self-worth more than protecting somebody who's important to you? I mean, he should snap out of that 'I'm only worth the money my slaveowner paid for me' mentality sooner or later, I hope.

(the problem is, I'm not sure how it can play out now that he doesn't have his stone anymore. And he lost it, not protecting anybody but nearly killing himself and furthering the IPC's agenda. Although doing something like that without the stone would be even more significant)

Also, I hope Ratio won't realize that, and won't deliberately put himself in danger for Aventurine to save him. You know, for educational purposes.

8. He just runs around helping people, making sure everybody's okay, and, emm, 'enhance their living', that's his thing. And even broadly speaking, with his scientific discoveries, and him saving people on Herta station. And considering that 'everybody's my student' thing, I feel like he sees himself as responsible for everybody (in his own way).

And some people still think that he's selfish and egoistic. He even gets angry when we ask for an autograph:

9. Aaand that's the third time he disappeared in the middle of a conversation involving Aventurine. I understand him, though. As somebody who also 'detests noisy gatherings', group chats aren't much better.

------

ok this was supposed to be hidden in tags but i think tumblr found it too scandalous or something i don't know, i'll just leave it here: the more I write about Ratio, the stronger the urge to just call him Rat, you know, lovingly also whoops sorry, I'm physically incapable of writing short posts, it was supposed to be a short comment about their friendship, how much content can I squeeze out of a half-minute long dialogue?, the answer is yes, but I just had to get it out of my system

#honkai star rail #my stuff #hsr spoilers #hsr 2.3 #dr ratio #aventurine #raturine #ratiorine #aventio

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personwhowrites · 1 year ago

Text

Unforgettable wedding

Platonic TF 141, Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader (18+)

Wc: 6.1k

Cw: Drinking, fingering,vagial sex, unprotected sex, sex in car, slightly possessive Ghost?Teasing, strong language, No use of y/n

Nicknames given: Princess, Doll, Good girl, Baby

Summary: A high school friend (Rachel) invited you to a wedding, you declared you had a lover but actually didn’t. You asked Soap, Gaz and Price to be your fake boyfriend for the wedding. Price agreed after some talking, but canceled due to an emergency. Leaving you to answer questions and peer pressure from friends. Until.. Ghost shows up, pretending to be your boyfriend. Things go okay, games are played and kisses are shared. When he notices you starting to get drunk, he offers to take you home. Little did you know that ‘ride’ home would change everything that involved him..

A/N: I uh… yeah at the last part my mind went blank and uh, lost idea of what i was writing and it turned into something else.

It was a high school friend who was getting married, you kept in touch with them even if at times they were toxic towards you. They added you to a group called “invitations” announcing their wedding. You didn’t see it till two days later, you were busy on the mission that involved your whole time and attention. No one from your personal life knew what job you did, if anyone asked you would brush them off and change the subject. So it came to surprise you, Rachel had invited you to their wedding and you're just now responding.

You: I’ll see if I can make it, I need to work some stuff out first.

Rachel read your message along with other few close friends from the group. You set your phone down not expecting much as Soap approached you with a grin on his face and a can of pop in his hands.

“Las, you have any plans for the week off?” Soap asked as he took a seat next to you. “I've been thinking about visiting my family.”

“Probably nothing like always, which is fine.” You reply while soap opens the can of pop. “Are you seriously drinking that ten month soda?”

“It's called pop, and matter in fact I am.” Soap relies as he drowns the sugary drink. “You seriously don’t plan to go somewhere?”

You open your mouth to reply but your phone buzzes, which you turn over and look at the notification. It's from the ‘invitations’ group chat, it suddenly became active, you open your phone and look at the messages. Your eyes widen as you read the message to yourself, Soap notice and look over at your screen.

Rachel: That’s fine, you probably don’t even have a plus one, so you save us the food for that! I would appreciate a gift or some flowers if we ever meet up again. Xoxo

Soap tilts his head as you start to type something, someone else in the group chat sends a message. Leaving you to gasp and stopping you from sending another message.

Jason: Yeah it's fine, plus you never have time for the group anymore. Anytime that we plan something you always respond late..

You: Because I have to tend to important matters and don’t have time to be on my phone. Anyways I will come then! I will see you all there and hell I will bring my partner!

You didn’t think of the message you sent, until Soap gasps and looks at you in surprise.

“You have a lover?” Soap now asks as you quickly realize what you just sent. “I never knew that.”

“I.. didn’t either..” You mumble and set your phone down. “Shit.. oh god what did I just do.. Soap be my fake date please you're the only one that knows.”

“No can do, I already have my week planned out with my family.” Soap says before chuckling. “Good luck with that, now if you..” Soap burps and holds his stomach. “I'm going to regret drinking that pop.”

Soap gets up as your phone buzzes again, it's a message from the group chat again. This time it was multiple people typing all now excited you will be tending the wedding that was three days away. You nervously bit your lip and read the messages, everyone excited to meet this lover of yours that didn’t even exist. Rachel soon gave you the details of the location and what type of theme you could wear that is appropriate for her wedding. You thanked Rachel and soon turned your phone off and took a deep breath, now where could you find a single man that would be willing to be your pretend boyfriend.

Three hours passed and you were doing some of your daily duties where you met Gaz in the hall. He was heading to lunch alone and crossed paths with you.

“Hey, are you going to lunch yet?” Gaz asked you with a warm smile making you look up from whatever you were doing. “Price and Ghost are there.,”

“Maybe in a couple more minutes, I gotta finish..” Your reply and sigh before looking at the boxes you were carrying. “..Ah this can wait.. You know what's for lunch?”

“The same crappy food that's for sure.” Gaz chuckles as you start to walk with him. “You look uneasy..did someone say something to you?”

“Uh no..” You mumble and then get an idea. “Would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a wedding?”

Gaz stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you, thinking he misheard. You give him an awkward smile and look away now your face filled with embarrassment. Gaz remains silent, he was trying to process what you just said and making sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to be your fake boyfriend at a wedding?” Gaz murmured now amused by the thought. “You should have asked me earlier before I made some plans for the week.”

“Damn you too?” You say now in some annoyance. “I asked Soap but he said he already made some plans.”

Gaz let out a small laugh before walking again, soon the two of you arrived at the mess hall. Price by then had already gotten your tray with Gaz’s knowing you would join him and Ghost. You sat down and ate, nothing too important was discussed at the table, Gaz and Price were chatting about some rookies, while Ghost leaned back in his chair and listened to them. While also looking around as if he was looking for some trouble he could stop. Gaz soon brought up what you said that made you snap back into reality.

“Wait wait, you asked Gaz to be a fake boyfriend for a wedding?” Price now asked you with an amused look. “And you also asked Soap?”

“Yeah, it's just someone's wedding from highschool.. We are a friend group..” You mumble now embarrassed by all of this. “I said that I would go since their group pointed out that I never hang out with them anymore.”

“How can you? You're working away on missions to keep their perfect lives safe, they should be grateful.” Gaz says, shaking his head for a moment. “Can’t believe people sometimes thinking its easy to be in the special british forces..”

“The thing is that they don’t know what job I have..” You admit to Gaz as he lets out a laugh. “I like to keep my work life out of my personal life.”

Ghost looks at you know, he seems to be somewhat interested in what you said, Price laughs a little as you told them. Gaz on the other hand nodded, he knew what you meant and respected it.

“Wait Price, will you be my fake boyfriend?” You ask him quickly with some hope. “Please?”

“Now I would love to help you out of the mess you're in..” Price says taking a bite out of some burger.”But, I can’t do such a thing, especially something like that.”

“But it won’t be real!” You add quickly, seeming more desperate. “Please I’ll be less reckless on missions.”

“You should always be less reckless on missions.” Price points out before letting a sigh. “But okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, your mess now being fixed by your one and only captain. Yet boy were you wrong, on the day of the wedding Price canceled on you and apologized, an emergency had come up and you were left out without a date and the wedding was going to be starting soon. You stood outside the church and groaned softly as you saw the rest of the people arrive for it. One of them being Jason from the group chat, he had a date with him and he looked at you in a polite manner.

“No date? Things sure don’t change even out of highschool.” Jason teases as he walks into the church.

You stare at him for a moment and roll your eyes before entering the church yourself. You felt some people stare at you, it was obvious word got around that you would finally show up to something. You took a seat at the last row of the chairs and remained there for the rest of the wedding, eventually clapping and cheering the bride and groom. In the corner of your eye you saw someone, a dark figure you couldn’t make out, you brush it off as a guest. People started to head to their cars, getting ready to drive to the reception a couple minutes away from the church.

You felt as if someone was watching you, just you. The feeling didn’t wear off as you started to drive to the reception. You felt a car follow you, but the tint on its widows made it impossible to see who was driving. You took a turn into the reception parking lot and parked next to some other people. The car that was following you drove off, making you feel silly for thinking someone was following you.

The reception was beautiful, the place was decorated like any bride would want their reception to be. Yet when you found your name on a table you saw it was at the end of then with an empty chair next to it, you sat down and placed your bag down on the empty seat. Some friends approached you and talked about their lives, one of them made it into the fashion industry and the other was a chef that helped prepare the food for the wedding. Then it came time for you to talk about your job and how your life was.

“Honestly I have a plain life, nothing too important.” You say as attention is on you. “Plus I'm happy you all have successful careers.”

“Yet you never speak about your life, you always keep quiet about it!” One says looking at you with a tense stare. “Are you poor?”

“No..” You say hurt by their comment. “I'm well off of money..Rebbeca..”

“What happened with the partner you had?” Rebbeca asks, pushing you into a tight corner as eyes all on you. “Or what.. Did you lie?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Rachel walked over with a bright smile. All the attention soon turned to her as she opened a chair and sat down with the groom. Showing off her ring and dress, she soon turned her attention to the empty seat.

“Oh my, did your ‘boyfriend’ not show up?” Rachel says now putting shame on you. “You could have told us you didn’t have a lover…we could have used that seat for someone else.”

You stare at her, some anger rising up, but you remain calm. Using all of your energy to not say something that could ruin anything. You cleared your throat and smiled in a polite manner.

“I don’t share anything about my personal life because of my job.” You say brushing your hands against the table. “Being in The special Reconnaissance Regiment is hard to maintain a love life.”

Silence fills the table, no one saw you as some person to work for the army or any job like that. Racheled opened her mouth to speak but Rebbecaa spoke before her.

“You're in the army? I never took you to be one in that type of work” Rebecca mumbles before turning her full attention to you. “Have you.. Killed people?”

“Private information I cannot share for your safety and mine.” You reply feeling some weight for your shoulders to be lifted. “Now I would appreciate it if we just moved on.”

“You always were one to pull twists on us..” Jason spoke and looked at you with a slight grin. “That’s good, honestly I always thought you would join the military but didn’t know what branch..”

You shook his comment off and made sure Rachel had the attention again. It was her wedding after all. The dance soon started for the bride and her parents. You stood by and reached for your bag, maybe thinking its best to leave. You weren’t having fun, and some of your friends wouldn’t leave the topic about your job. Soon someone else walked into the party, they seemed out of place for a moment then their eyes landed on you immediately. Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. Ghost.

He walked past some people who stared at him, he wasn’t wearing his regular ‘creepy’ balaclava but a more normal one. It covered his nose and down. No work uniform was on , but a simple light button up shirt and some pants from a tux, that obviously matched him well. His dirty blonde hair was neatly fixed into a stylish slit back hair style, which you never expected him to have. The tattoos on his forearm were on full display as he finally grabbed your bag and set in on your lap. He took the seat next to you and sigh annoyed..

“Don’t question it..” Ghost mumbled as he leaned back and whispered in your ear. “Be grateful I even considered such a thing..”

“How did you even know where the reception would be held?” You ask as Ghost lets out an annoyed sigh. “I only sent that information to Price..”

“You just answered your own question,” Ghost says bluntly as he looks around. “So much damn white..Jesus I might go blind from it all.”

“You handle flashbangs for a living..” You tease Ghost who immediately gives you a glare. “Sorry, I thought it would be funny.”

“What happens when a strawberry gets run over while crossing the street?” Ghost says leaning closer to you. “Hm?”

“Uh..i don’t know what happens?” You reply slightly amused by this behavior.

“Traffic Jam.” Ghost replies and chuckles to himself. “Another?”

You hold back a laugh, knowing it wasn't funny yet the way his voice makes the joke sound is better. Ghost pulls your chair closer so you can hear his terrible dad jokes better.

“What do you call a pony with a sore throat?” Ghost hums into your ear while you hold a smile back from your lips. “A little hoarse..”

You can’t help it but let a chuckle escape your lips. Ghost soon leans away from you and sits up in the chair. He looks around the party and rubs his eyes slightly showing he is annoyed by all of the lights. You look at Ghost, it was strange seeing him like this. No mask nor face paint made it feel like you walked into another universe. Which at this point you might have now noticed that he was the one that asked Price for the address to see you and help.

“Thanks..” You mumble to him enough to hear. “You really didn’t have to..”

Ghost looks at you, he seems to have something on his mind. His mask moves as he is about to speak, yet the sound of the bride and groom stop him. You turn your attention to the center of the place and listen as the bride is going to cut the cake and food will be served soon.

The rest of the night some of your friends ask you about Ghost but you say nothing. Avoiding their questions and Ghost doing the same, if he did want you to answer a question about him, he would shoot you a glance or nudge your chair. The night went on, Ghost cracked some more ‘jokes’ that made you smile or even get a chuckle out.His arm is soon wrapped around your shoulders. You didn’t mind it and soon rested your head on his arm, things were okay.

“Are you comfortable..”Ghost questions while keeping his eyes away from you. “Aren’t you?”

“I can move away..” You reply and look at him anxiously.

“It's fine..” Ghost replies and looks away from you. “Can’t believe you’re social enough for this kind of stuff.”

“I honestly never come to stuff like this..I'm always lonely.” You murmur as Ghost turns his attention to you.

“Not this time..”Ghost says, sitting up a bit, he places his hand on your face. “You had some sauce on our lips.”

You stare at Ghost as he wipes the sauce away and leaves his thumb on your lips. He's gaze now on your lips, you feel your face heat up. Ghost gently rubs his thumb on your lips then moves it down to your chin, he makes you look slightly up at him. Ghost hazel eyes stare into your own eyes, a thick tension grows. He moved his thumb back onto your lips, gently giving them a brush. Somehow the world around the two of you slowed down, nothing matters anymore..

“..I never noticed.. How beautiful you are up close..” Ghost mumbles as his arm around your shoulders pulls you closer to him. “A sight for my sore eyes..”

Ghost moves his arm away from your shoulders and brings his hand to his mask. A loud sound makes both of you jump and turn away from each other. His hand on your face moving away to his side, the bride had grabbed a microphone and was trying to turn it on.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen! Let's get these games started!” Rachel says with a happy look on her face. “Please bring your chairs and yourself to the center!”

People around you and Ghost started to move themselves and their chairs. You stare at everyone, most of everyone that was at the table left. You then turned your attention back to ghost, who didn’t even seem interested in the game. Rachel noticed you weren’t there and walked over, she grabbed your hand and smiled before speaking.

“Come on! Join us like the good old times!” Rachel says getting people to look over. “Like the good old days, you used to love musical chairs so much as kids.”

You looked around and noticed some people looking over, peer pressure got the best of you and you nodded. Ghost looked at you, there was a hit of worry and annoyance in his eyes. He stood up with you and grabbed your hand, Rachel looked at Ghost, slightly taken back by the sight of him. Rachel soon walked to the center with you and Ghost along with the chairs. It was a regular game of musical chairs, no rules except no harming each other badly. You placed your chair down in the circle, soon the music started and everyone started to move around in a circle. Ghost didn’t even know why on earth he decided to join such a ‘childish game.’ The music stopped and chaos broke, you sat down quickly in a chair as Ghost and a couple others did the same, while two people fought for a chair. One finally sat down and soon the game continued..

Ghost got out the twelve round, he didn’t like walking and too many eyes were on him. He took his chair back to the table and watched as you went against eight people. The number lowered quickly to the point it was only you and some other girl left. Both of you were focused, none wanted to lose or make a fool out of yourselves. The Dj speed up the music and you started to feel your body tense, the music stopped, without a thought you kicked the chair away and the girl fell down before she could sit down. People started to laugh and you picked up the knocked down chair, Ghost slightly was somewhat amused by the sight. The other girl tried to snatch the chair out of your hands but it was all a fail as your grip was strong.

You spun around the girl and placed the chair down, the girl did the same thing as you. She kicks the chair down and you let out an annoyed groan. She grabs the chair with a wide grin and sets the chair down. This could all be over if it wasn't for your need to win no matter what. You kicked the chair down quickly, almost hitting the other girl. She gasped as if in the blink of an eye you picked the chair up and ran to the center sitting down in it.

People cheered and Ghost looked at you with amusement, You soon walked back with the chair and smiled happily. Ghost shook his head trying to shake the look of amusement off, you hugged him without thinking…He hugs you back, a tight embrace happens as the two of you hug each other. You notice your mistake and pull away immediately.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry..I was just so excited..” You say quickly as Ghost pulls you back into a hug. “Ghost?”

Ghost closes his eyes and keeps holding you close, you could swear his breathing get heavier as he held you closer. His cologne filling your nose, Ghost held you close for a period of time. You soon embraced him as well and kept hugging him.

“..Never let go..” Ghost mumbles in your ear, his voice slightly breaking. “Please..”

‘Please’ that word sounded so heartbreaking out of his lips. You just nodded and he let go of you, that was the first time Ghost has ever done that with you. He sat down and pretended like nothing happened and he expected you to do the same.

The rest of the games continued, you would join but not most of them since your feet were tired. Ghost kept you close to him, awfully close. If any of your guy friends approached the two of you, his grip would become tighter on you. The games went on for another hour, soon the bride Rachel announced she would be throwing her bouquet soon.

“You’d think that..You could get the bouquet as well?” Ghost asks, looking at you, before looking at some girls in the center. “If you stand in the back the odds of you getting it are twenty out of hundred.”

“I don’t like the whole bouquet stuff, Rachel would make the girl kiss their partner if they got it.” You reply looking over to the other females. “Plus, I think I won enough games already.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to just have a good time.” Ghost adds looking at you now which you don’t notice. “Who knows if we'll ever be alive to see another wedding..”

You think for a moment then nod, standing up from your seat you walk over to the back. The bride calls out more females to the floor making sure it's even for all the females. The groom gets a chair and Rachel gets on it, she turns her back to the others on the dance floor, people start counting down for her to throw the bouquet. Rachel throws it a three and it hits a fan on the ceiling, which bounces the bouquet and it hits you right in the face. People laugh and cheer as you now hold the bouquet, Ghost eyes widen as he didn’t even expect that himself to happen out of all the possibilities.

“Kiss your partner now!” Rachel says with a smile as she walks over and drags you to Ghost. “Kiss kiss!”

“Rachel, please no lets just move on to the res–” You try to say, but Ghost grabs your waist turning you to him. “Wai–”

Ghost takes his mask down and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He holds your hips, making sure he can hold you correctly. You lean into the kiss and start to close your eyes. It seemed like Ghost wanted to do it for a long time. Ghost breaks the kiss and pulls his mask back and places his hand on your face. He gives you a wink before creasing your cheek with his thumb. Rachel soon walks away leaving you to stare at Ghost in shock.

“I can’t be arsed to care about what you’re thinking..” Ghost mumbles before taking his seat again. “It's all pretend.”

You look at him still in shock and turn away, soon enough you found yourself drinking some fine wine being offered around. Ghost on the other hand remained sober, unwilling to talk to any other female that approached him. His eyes on you as you chugged down wine, there was a time he got worried as people cheered you on to keep drinking. You knew how to handle your liquor, but Ghost didn’t know that. You look at Ghost and give him a drunken smile, yet his eyes narrow seeing that you're drunk down.

“That’s enough drinking now.” Ghost mumbles taking the glass of wine out of your hand. “Do you hear me?”

“I'm fine, Ghost. I can't get drunk so easily with wine.” You say looking at him hoping he would give back the wine glass. “Can I have it back?”

“No, that's enough wine for you today..” Ghost says and sets your glass on the table. “If you keep drinking or try to drink again I will get up and leave.”

You stare at Ghost and soon take your own seat, You lean against his arm and sigh. Maybe you had been drinking too much, maybe the wine was too much for you. Ghost turned his attention to you, pulled you closer to him, almost as if he wanted you on his lap. You nuzzled your face against his arm and closed your eyes, you were starting to blackout..

“You okay..?” Ghost asked with high concred in his voice. “You need to head home?”

“Probably..” You mumble before looking at him. “I might have drank too much today..”

Ghost sighs and helps you stand up, he grabs your bag and starts to walk out with you. Rachel noticed and walked over with the groom, they called out for you and Ghost. He hesitated to stop but did since they were your friends. Rachel and her husband Aaron look at you and then at Ghost.

“You two leaving?” Rachel asks slightly hurt by this. “It's only twelve in the morning”

“She had too much to drink and wanted to go home.” Ghost says looking at Rachel, slight haterade he didn’t like her at all. “If you care about her, you wouldn’t have to come and question why she is leaving early.”

“Easy now, we don’t need an aggressive tone here.” Aaron speaks up trying to make things settle. “We are in the wrong for cheering them on..”

Ghost starts to walk away with you, he makes sure you can lean on him as you two walk. He knew where your car was parked, the exact spot without even checking. You looked at Ghost a little concerned as to how he knew where your car was parked. He takes the keys out of your bag and looks at you.

“I'll drive you home then get an uber back here to drive my own car.” Ghost says and opens the passenger door. “Come on..”

You stare at him for a moment and get in your own car. Ghost closes the door and walks to the other side, he opens the door to the driver side, he sits down then adjusts the seat. Ghost looks over at you for a moment and pulls his mask off completely. Then grabs your head gently with the palm of his hand on the back of your head. He leans in and kisses you, the kiss was less sloppy than before. Ghost gently grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you closer, he can’t get enough of your lips.

Ghost moves his other hand to your neck, you look at him as he leans in for another kiss. Your lips crash against his, he groans in the kiss. The hand on your neck gives you a gentle squeeze. Ghost hand on your hair moves to your back, he bushes the straps of your dress and looks at you with desire.

“Are you okay with this doll?” Ghost asks, looking at you. “Do you like me kissing you?”

Ghost looks at you and smiles, it is odd but yet comforting. You meet in his gaze and place your hands on his cheeks.The palm of your hands brush against his stubble, he leans close to you. Another kiss is shared between the two of you, Ghost wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you closer to him, he lets go of your neck, placing his hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles on your skin. Without a thought he kisses your neck as you let go of his face, you toge on his shirt and bite your lip.

“Use your words..” Ghost says giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Come on..”

“I want this Ghost..” You reply as he places his hand on your chin. “Don’t.. Make me beg..”

“You’re drunk.. If you were sober maybe I would go further with you princess..” Ghost mumbled before turning his attention to the steering wheel. “Let’s get you home.”

You stare at Ghost feeling disappointed, but understand that he wanted to keep his desires in check. Ghost pulled out of the parking lot and headed into the road, once in a while he would look over at your body. How it bounced to each bump on the road, his desires and mind started to wonder as the straps on your dress slid off your shoulders. Ghost stops the car by a park nearby and turns the car off, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He turns his attention to you and your neck. Pulling you close, Ghost leans his face to your neck..

“You drive me crazy, a crazy I can't hide anymore…” Ghost murmurs before kissing your neck. “Do you want this doll? Do you want me to take you here and now..?”

You let out a soft moan and nod, Ghost wastes no time helping you get on his lap, he leans the seat back. You hear him undo his buckle of his pants, he was wasting no time to take you. To give you the pleasure you two desire in such close space. You kiss Ghost and watch as he moves his hand to your inner thighs, he gives them a gentle squeeze. He slides his fingers against your clit, shivers go down your spine.

“Look at you.. Already wet, partially dripping onto my fingers.” Ghost teases and rubs circles on your clit. “Think you can take me baby? Think you can take me like the good girl you are..”

A whimper escapes your mouth and you look down at Ghost. Who’s admiring the faces you make to his touch, the sweet sounds you give him. Ghost soon removes his hand away from your pussy and licks his finger, you blush to his action.

“Why would you do that..” You mumble in slight embarrassment. “Gh–”

“It's Simon to you princess..” Ghost says inserting two fingers into your pussy without a warning.

You arch your back and let out a loud moan, he didn’t give you any warning. Slowly he fingered you, enjoying watching you come undone to just his fingers. Ghost moved at a slow pace, wanting to savor every second of your reaction. Your hips soon started to move on their own, your body wanting more of his finger. Ghost pulls them out and looks at you while you let out a small whimper. Ghost chuckles and moves his throbbing cock close to your pussy.

“Patience, pretty girl. Patience..” Ghost mumbles and looks at you. “You think that you can handle it?”

You give an quick nod and try to place your body on his cock, but Ghost stops you and rubs your hips. He knew you wanted as much as he did, but he wanted to make sure you could take him. Ghost brushed his hands on your hips and bit his lip, he wanted to just ruin you and keep you close to him.

“Gh–Simon.. Please..” You beg now looking down at him. “Please.. I can’t keep waiting..”

You start to beg him, he loves the sight of you begging, the sound of your whimpers wanting your own hips to be placed on his. Ghost without warning drops your body on to his cock, he lets out a satisfied groan as you let out a small cry. You have taken every single inch of him, Ghost rubs your hips again letting you adjust to him. Some tears escape your eyes and you hold onto the handle off the door. Ghost shifts on the car seat and lets out a groan as take more of him in.

“Bloody hell..you're so perfect.. So bloody perfect for me..” Ghost moans out and closes his eyes. “Perfectly made for me baby..” He pauses for a moment and digs his fingers on the side of your hips. “Think you can move a baby girl, think you can move this beautiful body of yours?”

You give him a gentle nod and slowly bounce on his cock. Ghost groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, he lets go of your hips and places his hands on your thighs. Giving them a good squeeze, you can’t help but moan his name as your hips move.

“That’s it princess that's it..” Ghost murmurs while giving your thighs another squeeze. “ Use my cock to satisfy this pussy of yours.”

Ghost was completely pussy drunk, mumbling things as you bounced on his cock. Ghost opened his eyes soon enough to catch a glimpse of your face, how you particularly looked at him. Ghost moves his hands back to your waist, he adjusts himself and thrust into you. You let out a moan, Ghost started to move himself as you arched your back trembling as you were on your high with him, Your eyes rolled back and your moans were music to his ears.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me..”Ghost says, thrusting his cock recklessly into you. “That’s it, love.. Bloody hell..that's it clinching that pussy around my cock.”

Without another word you moan loudly and let your body fall on him, You had reached your orgasm. Ghost wasn't so far behind, he pulled out and came on your ass, he groaned and soon wrapped his arms around you. He took steady breaths and brushed his hand on your hair. Gently patting your back with his other hand.

“You did so good for me doll.. So good..” Ghost murmurs into your ear and holds you close. “Breath..”

“I.. love you..” You reply without thinking. “I really..love you..”

Ghost looked at you and then sigh softly before kissing your head. He holds you close but says nothing. The both of you stay like that for a couple minutes, crickets and sounds of nature lay on your ears as finally Ghost speaks.

“I love you too..” Ghost mumbles creasing your face, before kissing your cheek. “We still need to get you home.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off of Ghost. You sat back in the passenger seat and watched as Ghost buckled his pants up again, you in the meantime fixed your panties. He started the car and got out of the parking lot of the park. Ghost glanced over at you while he drove. Things were definitely never gonna be the same between him and you, Ghost knew that like you did. He placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked at Ghost, as he drove your car, the car you had your first time with Ghost, so many thoughts and so many questions but what did that matter now? This wedding was definitely going to be an unforgettable one.

522 notes · View notes

dkisms · 1 year ago

Text

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough.

If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought.

Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky).

Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face.

Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.’ Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate.

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match.

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation.

Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group.

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent.

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.”

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?”

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane.

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped.

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started.

While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays.

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said.

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.”

“Night.”

——///——

You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless.

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL.

Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums.

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door.

You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off.

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.”

You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?”

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches.

At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order.

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage.

The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing.

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.”

The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly.

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy.

The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL.

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy.

At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice.

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up.

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face.

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips.

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman.

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper.

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin.

Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane.

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began.

As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed.

The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks.

As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match.

You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year.

After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said.

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it.

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again.

The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded.

Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs.

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

“Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased.

He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead.

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

“Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you.

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over.

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!”

You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.

#jeon wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #☀️ writes

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s-che · 2 months ago

Text

Monsterhearts 2: Plotting Anti-Plot

Last week I had the fortune to MC (and play) Monsterhearts 2 for the first time as the Dream Library begins a unit on monsters, monstrosity, and monsterfucking which will carry us through November, and boy howdy am I glad we managed to do it.

For those who (somehow) don’t know, Monsterhearts is a game that bills itself as being about “the messy lives of teenage monsters.” It cites Twilight, Buffy, Ginger Snaps, The Vampire Diaries, and The Craft as media touchstones, it’s not joking when it says that these monsters are 1. messy and 2. teenagers. Monsterhearts is angsty, horny, frightening and, above all else, extremely fun to play. On top of that, Monsterhearts is also one of those games that, if you’re in a certain sector of the indie RPG scene, people will remind you is extremely fun to play all the fucking time. It feels sometimes like every designer I know has a good Monsterhearts story, and as much as Avery Alder’s reputation on a larger stage has been defined by The Quiet Year, I get the sense that for people who like what Monsterhearts is doing it’s an extremely hard game to beat.

So to be totally honest, I was more than a little anxious MCing for my first time actually playing the game. There’s a sense in which hosting a game which you know is great can be way harder than hosting games you think might be bad — after all, if the session goes poorly, there’s nobody to blame but yourself. On top of that, Monsterhearts moves through some tricky territory: underage sex is a core element of the game, and the eight “Small Towns” (short, pre-prepped settings for quick starting the game) all deal more or less explicitly with histories of racism and colonialism in communities across North America. While these are interesting places to go in play, the idea of taking them on myself as host made me shy away a little bit (and I’m excited in the next session to look at things from a player’s perspective).

All in all, though, I think the session was a resounding success. I went in with basically no prep and as much familiarity with the book as I could get (not enough to realize the quick reference sheet we were using for the first half of the session was from Monsterhearts 1, but so it goes), relying on the game itself — which leans away from strictly organized plots and encourages you, in true PBTA fashion, to let characters and their needs bounce off each other until the conversation goes somewhere interesting — to get us smoothly into play. I would call my efforts there a mixed success: while Avery has a real skill for writing pedagogically, giving you the explicit frameworks you need to get into play (if you’ve never begun a session of The Quiet Year by reading the rules book aloud to each other, you should go fix that now), the session was hampered a little by some awkward pacing and uncertainty: partially driven by my chronic tendency to waste time on slowly establishing things in one-shots rather than swinging as hard as I can in the first five minutes and letting the players lead from there and partially by player character relationships that lead to clear, decisive actions... which left one of our players bored at work while the other two went off adventuring. We ended up taking a moment, after returning from the normal mid-session bio-break, to chat and refocus ourselves, figuring out where we wanted to go and what we wanted to see in the last hour or so of the session, and then jumping back in and — thankfully — playing hard to reach a strong conclusion. In the end, I’m not interested in tracking down exactly where the first half of our session lost its footing (although I have some ideas for how I could have hit harder as an MC). I’m more interested in celebrating the way the table was able to come together, talk explicitly about what we wanted, and get the game somewhere satisfying for everyone involved. We closed on, among other things: an underwater fight between the Fairy (Mermaid?) Queen and a Kraken-Leviathan-Hellmonster, a throuple sneaking off from a beach party to hook up, and the messy end of a South Jersey summer (complete with a tsunami and a beached whale front of the boardwalk). It was a good time.

Most striking to me in this moment, however, is the way thinking about Monsterhearts as a plotless game positions both me as MC and the other players. It really speaks to the way that capital-T The capital-C Conversation works in Powered by the Apocalypse games (good ones, anyway) to let play flow not according to the rules of a paced narrative, but along lines of player interest and highly-charged emotional incident. It is, I think, part of what makes all the PBTA games we’ve played in the Dream Library sing (in no small part because we pruned the last unit and didn’t play any PBTA games I think are bad, but that’s a different conversation) and it suits this game — with it’s emphasis on sex and messy desire — extremely well. It also fits in nicely with a point I’ve heard a couple of people make recently: that thinking of RPGs as first and foremost collective narrative engines is, at the very least, a narrow view.

Anyway, this week I’m fortunate enough to be joined by a new host (hi @jdragsky) so I can check out MH as a player, then we’ve got a couple of two-shots planned for the end of the month before we move on to our next monstrously intimate game: Bluebeard’s Bride. You want in on an upcoming game? Have a link. You want to hear more about Monsterhearts? One of my players wrote up some of her thoughts as well.

Otherwise, well, get out of here. Scram.

#ttrpgs #rpgs #monsterhearts #monsterhearts 2 #avery alder #the dream library #play report #powered by the apocalypse #ttrpg

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narcjsistx · 3 months ago

Note

what would it be like being takemichi's younger (like one or two years younger) sister? Also, hope you're doing well. Don't forget to drink water and to eat!!! stay safe and healthy :3

thanks for your concern and for the request!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— Takemichi Hanagaki as a big brother HCS ᡣ𐭩

I don't know why, but I always saw Takemichi as the almost perfect big brother, bro like, he would come back to the future to save you! Does this seem like little to you? I DO NOT BELIEVE. LET ME HOLD THE IDEA OF HIM BEING THE PERFECT BIG BROTHER

Brother of the type who would ask you for advice on future dates or gifts for Hina. He can appear at the most impossible moments and in a slightly embarrassed voice he will ask you if you think Hinata might like that necklace you saw at the shop. He does this because he believes that perhaps, being a girl, you might have more or less the same tastes as his beloved

One way or another you will necessarily get to know the members of Toman, starting with Chifuyu and probably Mikey too. He would like you to get along with them because he knows very well that he is not a great fighter, so in case something happens to you and he is REALLY exhausted, you can rely on them. From my point of view Mikey would be the most excited to talk to his little friend's little sister, maybe Mitsuya too

It would probably be the brother who asks you to do his homework in exchange for him doing the household chores that you have to do. Takemichi always wants to show himself well towards Hina in school, however he doesn't seem like someone who studies a lot... it's a valid deal, he cleans and you do his homework, it's not perfect, is it?

I imagined this too though: "Did you finish my cookies?!" "Maybe..." "I'll make you pay!" "How? Going to tell mom?" "No, she's on your side anyway...". YOUR MOTHER IS CLEARLY AGAINST HIM IN EVERYTHING

I imagined a pretty funny scene: him and Hina walking hand in hand, chatting like two lovers, while you and Naoto are behind them with a face like "I didn't even want to come there". Originally it was supposed to be a quiet outing between the 4 of you, couple and brothers, but we know well that if Takemichi nd Hina are together they let everything go a bit

As a child, it was clearly the brother who, to annoy you, told you at least once that you was adopted. You, after crying every time, reciprocated by saying that Santa Claus doesn't exist. This time it was he who cried

Honestly, I don't know if he would tell you about his time travel power. It could happen that he would tell you in a very particular case like what happened with Mikey and Draken (even if he wasn't actually there...) or he would simply tell you if it was too obvious, in short, I believe that things between brothers are discovered more quickly

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bambheez · 2 years ago

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tonight is for the two of us (l.hs)

SUMMARY: two lonely people who find comfort in each other’s presence for one night. PAIRING: heeseung x reader GENRE: angst, smut WARNINGS: mentions of character death, grief, depression, insomnia, child and domestic abuse, alcoholism, profanity, light smut WORD COUNT: 5.8k A/N: the way this entire thing screams verbosity but that’s just my style so pls forgive me lol… obviously this is different from what I’ve posted so far in that there’s actual plot and it’s somewhat dark (so please read the long ass list of warnings before you proceed). you can also listen to the PLAYLIST for this story (I am in love with all of these songs)! as always, reblogs/comments/feedback are especially appreciated! :)

Your clammy hands were gripping the steering wheel to the point where your dashboard lights illuminated the whites of your knuckles. As you made your way up the windy roads to the lookout point, void of any streetlamps and relying on your high beams on blast, you were silently thankful for the lack of cars trailing behind you or driving toward you in the opposite direction.

Had you done your research beforehand instead of simply plugging the address into your phone, perhaps you wouldn’t have embarked on this hour-long journey to go stargazing with your colleagues. You suggested carpooling to no avail, having to face your absurd fear of driving not only at night but also on sketchy, unfamiliar roads.

A slight crane of your neck to the right brought you a view of the city’s skyline in the distance, a hazy glow amidst a sea of black, and you wished you could teleport back to the comfort of the bright, bustling city. The mere thought of having to drive back down this same path later had you letting out a deep groan.

A sudden interjection of your phone’s navigation app announcing that you were arriving at your destination in 100 feet caused you to whip your head back in focus, scanning the parking lot as you approached the top of the mountain.

Your car was the only one in the vicinity, save for a camper van with none of its lights on, looking particularly worn-down and deserted. You parked in a random empty spot, unplugging your phone from its charging port before stepping out into the brisk air. Spotting a bench near the lookout point, you took long strides up across the parking lot and up the hill, plopping down to sit and fishing your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications.

You were surprised to find an empty home screen, expecting a “sorry, we’ll be a few minutes late” in your group chat seeing as it was over ten minutes past the time you were meant to arrive. You dialed the number of the coworker who invited you and you heard her voice come onto the line after three long rings.

“Hey! What’s up?” she was nearly screaming over sounds of at least a dozen other people talking.

“What’s your ETA?” you were muttering, already having a bad feeling of what she was about to say.

“H-huh? Oh, it’s supposed to rain tonight, so we canceled! Sorry, I thought we told y–” you were tearing the phone away from the side of your face and hanging up before she could finish her sentence.

A miserable chuckle escaped your mouth as you took note of the thick clouds hanging over the sky and brought your feet up on the bench, hugging your knees and resting your back against the wood. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

You thought perhaps moving across the country to a big city would put an end to the dread of a thousand tomorrows, none of them promising any semblance of change, but the truth was you never felt more alone than when you were standing in the midst of a busy crowd surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinding lights—a single drop in the ocean.

There was no way to describe it other than a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant, dull ache. A black hole that threatened to swallow every part of you until all that was left was a human shaped shell, too numb to feel the pain anymore.

There were nights you unwillingly let it control you, and all you could do in those long hours was find an enclosed place to shake until the tears subsided. The vast, open darkness in front of you made you wonder just how many people were out there feeling the same way you did.

Some old acquaintances had promised to stay in touch, yet what you heard from them was comparable to radio silence, their smiles and efforts merely pixelated and small yellow faces that stopped coming whenever your world fell apart—which was often.

Trudging to get past each day made you realize just how much of your world had revolved around one person—one last connection with a life that used to be. You couldn’t tell her when your local tea shop came out with her favorite lychee drink, when you listened to a song that reminded you of her, how you saw someone on the subway reading a book she had recommended you, or how you overheard a couple arguing over the proper way to load a dishwasher, the very thing you had repeatedly bickered about as college roommates.

And now that she was no longer in this life, you were constantly questioning your purpose, even occasionally wondering if you were meant to be alone. Was this what the universe had planned for you? You weren’t sure you believed in multiple soulmates, so what happened when yours left you?

If you miss me, just look at the stars. She would always sign the text with a ‘;)’ at the end and you would mock her with a scoff, replying with or I could just call you, dumbass.

Without realizing, you were already bringing up your history of text messages with her, scrolling through the endless one-sided green texts, each decorated with a delivery error message. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard while the pulsing blue line stared back at you.

“Where are you?” you were wailing out, wincing subsequently at the unexpected echo and crack in your voice. The thundering in the distance seemed to answer you, but you wished the stars were out so that you’d at least know she was watching over you. You couldn’t help but feel that the cloudy skies meant she couldn’t see you, or worse, look out for you. A droplet landed on your cheek and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling. You weren’t sure if they were your tears or hers.

It was the end of the week and you somehow found yourself making your way up the mountainous roads again, remembering coming home last time with extraordinary peace of mind despite the frazzled state you arrived in. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was pushing you to get out of the city once again.

The air was noticeably cooler than it had been last week, and you were scanning your backseat for any signs of a sweater, sighing inwardly when you found none. It was warm when you left your office earlier in the evening and you mentally cursed at yourself for not checking the weather yet again.

You contemplated staying in the car with the heat on, but a glimpse of your glowing fuel light had you rolling your eyes in disappointment for being so forgetful and inattentive on top of the countless other flaws you felt you carried.

You were making your way toward the empty bench again, spotting the camper van in the same parking spot. You assumed it hadn’t moved since the last time you were here, most likely having been abandoned. There were considerably fewer clouds in the sky today and you beamed at the view of the small specks of white splattered against the darkness.

“Give me a sign that it’ll all be okay, please,” you spoke while eyeing the stars above you, some brighter than others. Your hair flew in the wind, draping across your face as goosebumps formed on your arms as you prepared to let the rest of your thoughts out. You didn’t remember closing your eyes, but the sound of footsteps approaching had you instinctively opening them and straightening your back and you suddenly felt a weight on your shoulders, gasping to find someone draping their flannel jacket over you.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he spoke against the wind. “You seemed cold.” A boy, now in a plain black shirt, was making his way around the other side of the bench to sit down next to you. He left considerable space between the two of you, which you were silently thankful for.

You spun around to see where he had parked, not having noticed another car arrive and when you saw nothing but your own car and the camper van, you felt a chill run down your spine. Alarm bells should’ve been going off in your head, but you were seemingly more concerned with the fact that he had most likely seen you in your most vulnerable state, crying out into the open void like a lunatic, not only once, but twice now.

When he felt you staring, he turned his head only to briefly make eye contact with you before glancing back down at his lap. His skin was a pretty shade of olive, the tip of his nose illuminated by the hazy moonlight. You took in the rest of his appearance—worn sneakers with one of the laces untied, ripped jeans, and shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and you found yourself resisting the urge to run your fingers through his locks.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he was asking, picking his head up once more to look at you.

You weren’t so sure yourself. Maybe it was the fact that this was the only place where you didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk to her, to yourself, or to the universe in general; you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or sit in complete silence. All you knew was that after a particularly bad day at work, you were taking the exit off the highway without thinking, almost as if you had taken this same exit a hundred times before.

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckled. There was an awkward pause, and you were realizing that he wasn’t going to answer you.

“I’m here to u-uh, stargaze.” You were telling the truth, at least partially.

“Stargazing’s not the best here, with the light pollution and all,” he replied. You hummed, unsure how to respond. He noticed your hesitation and was rubbing his palms against the black denim of his jeans before clearing his throat.

“‘m Heeseung, by the way.” At first, Heeseung found himself slightly annoyed at the fact that you had disrupted his peace and not-so-secret hideout spot, observing you from his van while you mumbled to yourself on the bench.

“I travel in my van, but ‘m running low on money.” He was rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. “The parking here’s free, so…” he trailed off, regretting it immediately after stating the obvious.

As he got a better look at your face up close, he saw that a small frown seemed semi-permanently etched on your face, which he could tell you were hopelessly attempting to correct as he studied you. A wave of guilt washed over him upon registration of his untimely intrusion, realizing that you would probably prefer to be alone right now due to the blatant evidence that you were pretending to look less dejected in front of him.

You were briefly introducing yourself as someone new to the city, not knowing what else was interesting about you and accidentally slipping in the fact that you ‘didn’t really have any friends’, teeth chattering slightly even with his jacket resting over your frame.

“Did you want to sit in my van instead?” Your frown was faltering when your lips parted in surprise at his request. He contemplated adding a lighthearted comment about not being a serial killer to reassure you, but you were already trailing behind him as he stood up. You could tell he was tall when his legs were stretched out next to yours while sat next on the bench, but he was even taller than you’d imagined when he was standing up, even with a slight hunch in his posture.

Heeseung peered over his shoulder to catch you struggling to keep up with his longer strides, still clutching onto the collar of his jacket over your right shoulder and he let a soft smile adorn his face as he slowed his pace to match yours. He was rounding the front of his van to open the passenger side door for you but you were already cutting in front of him, hopping up on the door sill clumsily.

You let yourself into the passenger side, holding the jacket out to Heeseung who was still staring at you through the driver side window. He opened the door and pulled himself into the seat, reluctantly taking the jacket from you and tossing it on some unknown surface of the van behind him.

He turned on the ceiling light of his van and began blasting the heat after noticing that you were sitting on the backs of your hands. His fingers were fiddling with the knobs on the CD player to turn on soft, lullaby-like piano music and you made a poor attempt at stifling a laugh. For some reason, you expected him to be into rock music and found the unexpected contrast endearing.

Heeseung shot you a confused look at the sound and you simply shook your head and waved it off, a small smile still playing on your lips. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the first time that night, you were taking a closer look at his features. Underneath his bangs were eyes that carried both fervor and innocence and lips that were held in a constant, soft pout. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darting around the space in front of him at the feeling of you staring at him so intently. He shook his head so that his bangs were falling over his eyes again in one swift movement before thinking of something to say to take your attention off his face.

“I dropped out of college when I was 18,” he was muttering, trying to gauge your reaction from his peripheral view before continuing. “And then I ran away from home to travel.” He was leaving out key details like the fact that he didn’t necessarily run away from home with the goal of traveling but instead began traveling because he simply had nowhere else to go.

When he came home after his first semester with an official diagnosis from his university’s health center, his family refused to let him seek therapy or any other form of help. With a father who was never home and a mother who went as far as threatening to disown him if he didn’t return to school the following semester, Heeseung wasn’t left with much of a choice.

You were surprised that he was even sharing this much with you. Your heart tightened at the thought of him being alone in the world at such a young age and his lack of a support system, seemingly more alone than you were. He was considerably better than you at concealing his loneliness and you hated that fact, not because you wanted to be better at it but because you knew just how much effort it took.

Heeseung could barely remember what it was like to have his father around, the only seemingly harmonious moments spent with him before he started grade school fleeting and long forgotten. The bulk of his adolescence was spent resenting his father for the way he treated his mother, where his father would appear through the front door every few months or so in one of his drunken episodes, an empty bottle of liquor already in hand.

He almost always knew when it was happening, the rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for alcohol reverberating through the house and to his room. He couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t stop restocking the house with it or why she wouldn’t change the locks or take his father’s keys or even file for a divorce, and he couldn’t help but despise her weakness and inability to stop pitying her husband.

“Look who decided to finally show up for his mother,” the older man seethed, breath reeking from the drunken stench.

A particularly loud argument had Heeseung flying down the stairs, the sound of a glass bottle breaking causing his mother to let a scream out of her mouth. He took in his father’s appearance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. A look off to the side at his mother with tears streaming down her cheeks was suddenly leading to punches being thrown and knuckles growing bloodied. A harsh shove from his father caused him to lose his balance and tumble onto the wooden floor.

“Maybe ask yourself why you’re defending a fucking cheater instead,” his voice boomed through the living room. A puzzled expression took over Heeseung’s face as he turned toward his mother who winced both at the sound of her husband slamming the door as he left and the way her son ran his tongue over his busted lip, eyes beginning to gloss over.

After finally grasping the fact that his mother was not the person she made herself out to be and what pushed his father over the edge over ten years ago, Heeseung, who had always stuck close to her growing up, attempting to make up for the lack of his father’s presence, began growing increasingly distant from her as he finished his final years of high school. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch in his life was the only thing he took with him and stashed in his van the night he left.

He was wrapping his hand around the nearly empty beer can in his cup holder from the thought of his childhood memories and shooting a pained expression your way at the paled look on your face, eyes pooling with concern and he tried to perceive it as anything but pity.

“I honestly don’t mind it much,” he was saying, but an unfamiliar look was flashing across his eyes and even though you barely knew him, you felt like you could see right through him.

He was redirecting his gaze out the windshield. He had used the North Star almost as a source of direction in his travels for the past few years, as cliche as it sounded. Tonight was the first night it was visible in the two weeks he had been parked here, deciding to camp out in the deserted park until it reappeared and he had saved enough money from his part-time job in the city.

The North Star appeared noticeably brighter tonight, a beacon in the middle of the night shrouded in shadows and Heeseung was suddenly wondering whether it was a coincidence that you were here with him at this very moment, whether you were the very person who hung the North Star for him in the night sky, guiding him toward a purposeful destination, or whether you were the destination itself. He was shaking his head at the intrusive thought as you followed his line of sight.

The heat blowing throughout the van was fogging up the windows and blocking up your view of what he seemed to be focusing his gaze on. Heeseung watched as you turned in your seat, moving your body to face the passenger window with one leg folded up on the cushion. You were bringing your fingers up to touch the glass, slowly drawing a heart with your index finger and peering through the clear traces at the sky.

Heeseung, nowhere near intoxicated from his built up tolerance over the years, took one last sip of his drink, still not taking his eyes away from your side profile and subtle movements as you immersed yourself in your own world for the second time that night. He was turning to his own window to mirror your actions, outlining a much sloppier heart on the glass. By the time he finished and spun around to face you, you were already watching him with a beam, the apples of your cheeks rosy.

You were suddenly bursting into laughter, your brain on autopilot as you leaned over the center console to fix his drawing. You were practically pushed up against him with your hand resting on his thigh as you drew over his sketch on the window, adding a dozen more hearts around the first and filling up the rest of the fogged glass with your doodles. Heeseung was noticeably stiffening under you, attempting to distract himself from his quickening heart rate by picking at the fraying of his jeans on the leg you weren’t perched on.

You leaned back to admire your silly artwork for a few seconds before glancing over at him and noticing Heeseung’s eyelashes fluttering delicately, still reeling from the sudden physical contact. Upon noticing the close proximity, you were removing your hand from his lap and bringing it back into your own, leaning into the seat again and you could feel the heat evident on your face, knowing it must’ve been even more apparent to him. He was no better at concealing his own expressions as his sheepish smile faltered, feeling abnormally disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.

Still in a daze, Heeseung was reaching behind him to grab a can of beer, holding it out in front of you while his eyes were trained on the single heart drawn on the passenger side window. He held back a grimace as he realized that he’d done so without thinking, hoping you hadn’t caught on to his dependency. You accepted his offer without hesitation, wiping the rim of the opening with the bottom of your shirt and popping open the tab, taking gulps at a much faster speed than you were normally used to.

Your head was still spinning with the thought and feeling of the burn of your fingertips against his thigh. You both drifted into a comfortable silence, the music no longer playing since the CD player in his rundown van didn’t have the ability to auto loop tracks or albums and the hammering of his heart against his chest seemed almost too loud for you not to notice. Heeseung thought about taking out the disk and replacing it but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of the air around you.

Your lips formed a small frown as you saw clouds beginning to shape. You thought it was the alcohol deceiving you, but you blinked a few times and the clouds were still there.

“I hate the rain because it means I can’t see her. It makes me think that she’s crying,” you suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze fall to you as he fell out of his trance, but he didn’t ask who, just simply nodded.

His reaction made you freeze in your spot, realizing you had most definitely overshared beyond an imaginary boundary. You almost wanted to apologize for it before you were saying the next thing that came to your mind.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” you were abruptly blurting out.

He was quirking his brow in amusement. “Come on, I can barely fall asleep,” he laughed softly but not without a somewhat pained expression behind his eyes. You had assumed it was a joke, but the sincerity in the way he observed you told you it wasn’t. Your eyes widened before you were nodding softly and returning a weak smile, taken aback by his confession.

“Don’t worry about it,” he was brushing it off. “You?”

You were staring out the windshield again for a few moments, lost in your thoughts before responding, “A lot of unrequited love, if that counts.”

You began to explain how you had never been in a relationship, not because you didn’t want to, but because it was seemingly out of your control. You presumed that the time you spent on this earth loving romantically without any reciprocation had somehow altered your brain chemistry to truly believe that you were meant to be alone from the very beginning, and you were often wondering which would hurt more, to have had true love and lost it or to never have had it at all. Dwelling over the fact that you had already experienced some form of both made your situation seem all the more ridiculous.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you were flighty in your thoughts, jumping to one without finishing the other. As a result of the accumulation of thoughts you created when you were alone, all the things you would talk to yourself about came spilling out.

Your mind went on talking even when you were alone. And when you ran out of storage, the thoughts needed to come out somehow. Partly due to your insecurities you hoped that by talking more, you’d be accepted and loved by someone—it hadn’t proved itself to be a successful method in the past and you weren’t sure it ever would be.

“I give, and give, and give. That’s all I do,” you continued, your voice now uneven and trembling slightly. “I give until I have nothing left. I’m terrified of the love I have because I know it will ruin me—it already has, and I know I will continue to let it.”

You were heaving out a sigh of relief at the massive weight being lifted off your chest, still feeling a sort of emptiness but a strangely pleasant lightness associated with it. Even then, you were perplexed by your own eagerness to share your entire life story to someone you met just hours ago, partially blaming the alcohol for how unfiltered you became and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking from the stoic look on his face and his big doe eyes blinking back at you.

It most definitely wasn’t a feeling of pity, that he knew. It felt almost like a weakness in the heart—like his heart wasn’t working properly—a fleeting lightness that passed through him, being simultaneously lulled to sleep by a single gesture and set on fire by your every touch.

Your eyes were glossed over, from your lengthy outpour or intoxicated state Heeseung wasn’t certain, but he held not a single ounce of doubt of the amount of love you held. Unsure of what came over him, he was resisting the urge to lean over and cup the sides of your face and tell you that even in his broken, wretched state, he was willing to accept anything you had to give and return everything and more.

“It’s really late. I can drive you home,” he was offering. He convinced you he was sobering up with a lazy smile plastered on his face, yet you couldn’t help raising your brows at the slight flush of his cheeks and numerous empty beer cans in the cup holder.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” you were speaking nonchalantly before turning to look at him with what Heeseung thought he saw were literal stars in your otherwise cloudy eyes. At the implication of your words, he could feel and hear his heart beating at a pace so fast it rang through his ears. As much of an open book as you were, he didn’t expect that from you and you even stunned yourself as the words left you, mouth now agape as you stared back at him.

You wanted to blame your lack of sobriety yet again but you knew that the flood of emotions had put your mind in a remarkable state of clarity. His calmness—how he listened and watched attentively without any questions, just simply looking at you with a fondness in his eyes—fastened you with a sense of immense trust in him.

Thankfully, he was quickly nodding and turning around to turn on the lights that lit up the rest of his van. In contrast to his somewhat rugged appearance, his space was neat and cozy and it amazed you how few belongings he had; everything fit in his van and there was almost no clutter. The only hint of personality and life you could find was the guitar hanging over the bed, and you were smiling to yourself knowing he at least had music to accompany him.

Heeseung had suggested cooking some ramen for you, but you simply shook your head with a sleepy smile and told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of his sheets and patted the spot next to him. There wasn’t much space in the van for anything other than a bed and a small stovetop and you were skeptical there would be enough room for you to both lay comfortably.

You fit yourself on the mattress between him and the back door while he crawled under the covers, pushing his pillow toward you behind your back and grabbing an extra one from beneath the bed for himself. You were still sat leaning against the side of the van as you contemplated your next move, wondering whether you should prioritize comfort or decency and you squirmed at the thought of your dirty jeans on someone else’s sheets.

A brief glance at Heeseung, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands resting over his stomach, had you quickly tucking yourself under the blankets and unzipping your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them over your ankles. You were shuffling downward and placing the now folded jeans beside your pillow, facing away from Heeseung as you pulled the covers up to your chest.

You couldn’t tell but Heeseung had visibly stiffened, eyebrows now slightly furrowed in concentration as he attempted to fall asleep, willing himself to think about anything other than you and your presence inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, breath uneven at how you were so similar in the way you craved connection yet different in the sources of your troubles and the way you coped—one capable of giving anything and one who didn’t know how to give at all.

You felt the bed dip and you could hear Heeseung shuffling around behind you, his heavy breathing against your neck telling you he was now facing you, and still lying on your side when you felt his fingers graze across your hip bone.

The heat radiating off his body behind you was seeping into your own skin, slowly building into a burn before you were flipping yourself over to face him and immediately thrown off by just how close he was. A slight lean forward from either of you would close the gap, and your eyes were unconsciously flickering down to his lips at the thought.

You were pulling yourself flush against him, savoring the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together, resting your head in the crook of his neck and he let out a sharp gasp from above you. You could feel his heart beating underneath your palms as you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest. A slight crane of your neck and you were tentatively placing your lips against his jaw, a shaky breath of Heeseung’s fanning your face from the action.

As your kisses moved from his jaw down to his neck, his mouth was parting softly, lifting his head into the pillow to provide you with more access. One particularly harsh suck against his collarbone had him surging forward for more, latching onto the hem of your shirt and fingers hesitantly grazing the waistband of your underwear.

Heeseung was then leaning forward onto his elbows, the hand that was previously slotted between your bodies wrapping around your shoulder to pull you up and level to him, bringing you into a gentle kiss that caused the hairs on your arms to raise.

It overwhelmed you how thrilling yet calming it felt to be kissing him. You were completely drinking him in, the touch of his skin against yours heating up the pits of your stomach and causing shivers to wrack through you and simultaneously taking your mind off of everything else.

He was gentle with his touch, but his lips were rough and chapped and he was kissing you with so much longing and desperation that for a second, you contemplated whether this was his first time kissing someone, craving any and every bit of physical contact. You quickly dismissed the thought as he took advantage of your inattentiveness with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth skillfully.

Your stomach churned and you were writhing under his touch from the way your tongues intertwined, a pit of heat rising in your lower stomach. Heeseung was letting out a choked whimper at the feeling of your hands reaching underneath his shirt, smoothing over the skin of his stomach.

“You okay?” you were whispering as you pulled back, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. He held your gaze for a few seconds, both delicacy and sharpness etched in his features, before his lashes fluttered and he was shaking his head, burying it in your neck. Your hands were sliding along his scalp to soothingly stroke his hair, heart aching at the vulnerability and rawness with which he looked at you.

It wasn’t clear whether the cause of his feverish state was from the simple presence of you in his arms, but something told you that you should’ve seen it coming when the way he looked at you gradually began changing as the hours progressed.

You were pulling back and placing one last, soft kiss against his lips, lingering for a few moments too long before wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight embrace and rubbing his back gingerly.

Heeseung was redirecting his attention out at the sky through the back window, foolishly looking for you and him in the stars. Some stars gradually dim and lose their luster, and on a rainy night, you might never see them again.

You weren’t thinking about what would happen when the stars faded and the sun rose, or when you would see him again—you didn’t need to see him or be physically near him to feel him. Your subconscious was finding comfort simply from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, your thumb rubbing circles over his shirt while you listened to Heeseung's soft breathing and the sound of the rain beginning to fall against the windows.

A/N: the bolded quote is based on something I saw on twitter: “I’m scared of the love I have for you. Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it. I love hard.” but I couldn’t find the source, so credits to the original owner.

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagine #heeseung scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen heeseung #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung imagine

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