#maybe i hate it a little. but i also like it

[yourprettyboibutch]

Dear femmes, do you fuck with butches who have dad bods? Butches that have a tummy than abs and toned muscles. Butches who like to eat. Butches that would rather snuggle in and order takeout than hit the gym

Do femmes fuck with such butches (doing this research for scientific purposes)

MEN AND MINORS DNI

[enhani-ki]

fuckboy!ni-ki x reader ᡣ𐭩｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

read part two here

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to lie and waste time.

a game player, smooth talker, and a liar when it suited him.

ni-ki knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. he'd tell a girl she was the only one, that she was special, that he couldn't stop thinking about her, only to turn around and send the same message to someone else.

when he got what he wanted? he gets bored.

it was always the same: a few weeks, maybe a month if they were lucky, then he'd just start pulling away. no more sweet words, no more playful texts, it's dry responses and distance until they finally took the hint.

girls will cry, get angry, some even tried to plot revenge... but ni-ki? he never felt guilty.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki doesn't believe in love.

he won't date and won't do relationships. he wasn't interested doing those late-night calls or good-morning texts, and the thought of commitment made him want to laugh.

he just likes a little flirting, a little fun, love songs, fucking then moving on before things got too serious.

they liked the chase, thinking they could be the one to change him, and the idea of being the exception.

but there are no exceptions. he'd rather catch a body than catch feelings for somebody he barely knows.

ni-ki was always clear about what he wanted, even if they refused to believe him.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki was impatient.

he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and tight jaw. his fuck buddy is late and he hates waiting. it's not his style to sit around for anyone.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. then, he spotted a familiar silhouette approaching.

finally.

and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the shadows.

"you took your sweet time." he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, whispering. "i should make you pay for making me wait, don't you think?" then ni-ki started talking dirty.

and your body in his grasp stiffened.

ni-ki smirked. he loves it when someone gets shy because of him but something was off.

there's no giggle or eager hands slipping on his body.

only silence.

ni-ki pulled back, his eyes locked on your wide, terrified eyes.

you're a face he had never seen before.

"who the fuck are you?!" he blurted out.

"i- i'm sorry!" you stammered, breathing heavily in shock.

ni-ki's mouth opened to say something but before he could, you ran away, you ran so fast that your belongings spilled onto the floor in your rush to escape.

ni-ki cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face.

fuck.

not only he's not gonna have sex but he also accidentally just harassed a complete stranger.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki got mad, completely ghosting and blocked his fuck buddy's number.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki wasn't the type to dwell on things. if he ever made a mistake, he moved on. simple.

what happened with you? that bothered him.

maybe it was the way your eyes looked at him, it was pure fear, like he was some kind of monster... or maybe it was because he had never been the kind of guy to force himself onto someone.

he's cocky, sure. shameless, absolutely.

but he never needed to resort to shit like that and now, he just left a random girl traumatized.

great.

ni-ki took your abandoned things from his bag, staring at them in irritation. he could've just tossed this somewhere and let you deal with it, but it's the least he could do, right?

he looked for you everywhere and when he finally spotted you walking down the hall, he didn't hesitate.

"hey."

your body stiffened instantly when you saw him, you gulped and turned to leave.

ni-ki rolled his eyes and reached out, catching your wrist before you could escape. "relax," he sighed. "i'm just here to give you these…"

you hesitated but quickly grabbed your things and muttered, "thanks."

he let go but he's also expecting you to run again though he's not letting you off easily.

his fingers wrapped around your wrist again, "i'm not done..." he said. "why are you in such a hurry?"

"i gotta go…"

"oh, really?" ni-ki scoffed but released his grip. "fine. look, i'm sorry about earlier. i thought you were someone else."

"your girlfriend?"

ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "no, i don't do girlfriends." he teased but it wasn't meant to joke or seduce. "you forgive me?"

you smiled slightly before nodding but then you tilted your head, curious. "...but why would you say something like that to someone who isn't your girlfriend?"

he smirked and leaned in again, so close you could smell his cologne.

"mind your own business, won't you?" he said and walked away.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki found you at his playground.

parties were all the same. loud music, flashing lights, people pressed up against each other like they forgot what personal space was.

ni-ki was used to it, it's his playground.

he's sitting with his friends, a smirk on his face while some girl clung to his arm, twirling her hair and giggling at everything he said, even though he wasn't even trying to be funny.

"so, ni-ki..." she purred, leaning in close, "when are we getting out of here?"

ni-ki exhaled through his nose, he's not in the mood yet and ready to give a half-assed answer until his eyes flickered to the entrance where you walked in.

huh.

you walked in, looking... insanely good wearing a dress that hugged all the right places. it made ni-ki's fuck boy brain short-circuit for a second.

the girl beside him was still talking, but he wasn't listening. his smirk twitched and his interest became completely derailed.

"wait here..." ni-ki muttered, removing the girl's arms off of him without another word.

she sputtered in protest but ni-ki was already gone, slipping through the crowd, with eyes locked on you.

he "accidentally" bumped into you, almost knocking you off balance. his hands instinctively gripped your waist to steady you.

"wow… you're-"

you covered yourself quickly, your arms crossing over your chest, and sent him a glare before he could even think about finishing that sentence

"what do you want?" you asked, unimpressed.

he blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"nothing." he recovered quickly, slipping his hands back into his pockets.

you sighed. "have you seen my friend, f/n?"

ni-ki shook his head. "i have no idea who that is," he admitted, then quickly added, "i'll help you look."

his hand landed on your shoulder but you instantly shrugged it. ni-ki scoffed at your unfriendly action, "seriously?" he asked, rolling his eyes but followed anyway, trailing beside you like he's trying to find his friend too.

he was enjoying himself, honestly.

his eyes kept drifting to you. the way your hips swayed slightly as you walked, the way your hair swung when you turned your head... it was so distracting and ni-ki found himself grinning.

he wasn't even gonna try to flirt anymore, he was just thrilled to be by your side.

you stopped in a less crowded part of the house, scanning the room, then you were pulling at your dress subtly, adjusting the hem like you're clearly uncomfortable.

ni-ki clicked his tongue "w- why are you wearing that if you're uncomfortable?"

you turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing. "why do you care?!"

"why are you so mad at me?"

"'cause i don't know what you're trying to do."

"i'm not trying do do anything to you!"

you glared at him again, adjusting your dress.

"tch." ni-ki removed his jacket and threw it at your face.

"what the hell-"

ni-ki rolled his eyes, already regretting being nice. "wear that, idiot."

you hesitated.

he sighed and turned away, "do whatever you want."

you slipped the jacket over your shoulders then ni-ki peeked at you from the corner of his eyes where he saw you practically drowning in his jacket. you looked so tiny in it, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

you finally spotted your friend near the drinks table, "f/n!" you called out, relieved.

your friend turned with a smile then her eyes immediately widened when she saw who was standing beside you.

"oh. my. God." she gasped, barely even acknowledging you because she's looking at ni-ki.

ni-ki smirked at her reaction, clearly used to it. "hi. what's up?"

you friend actually looked starstruck for a second before shaking herself out of it.

"why are you with him?" she whisper-yelled at you, leaning in like you just brought home a stray cat but the dangerous kind.

"he just helped me find you." you replied, and without another word, you grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the exit.

"bye, ni-ki!" your friend waved at him.

ni-ki chuckled, grinning while watching the two of you rush off.

as soon as you and your friend stepped outside, she immediately started her interrogation, eyes gleaming.

"okay," she breathed, grabbing your shoulders. "do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?!"

you groaned. "it's not what you think!"

she gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. "wait… did you do it?"

you blinked. "what do you mean by it?"

she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled, playfully slapping your arm. "you know what I mean~"

you eyes widened in disgust. "i would never do it with anyone!"

she laughed as you pushed her lightly, still giggling like a schoolgirl.

"okay, okay, i believe you..." she teased. "but still, damn. ni-ki even gave you his jacket?"

she said, snatching the sleeve of the jacket and sniffed it.

you grabbed it back.

she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "it smells expensive… sexy, actually."

you gave her a disgusted look again and tightened the jacket around you, trying to ignore the fact that, yeah, it did smell good.

"don't get so weird about this." you warned.

she only laughed, linking her arm through yours. "now tell me more about you and ni-ki."

"there is no me and ni-ki!"

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki suddenly wants to prove that he wasn't actually the asshole you thought he was but ended messing it up.

he told himself it was over. he gave back your stuff, apologized (which, honestly, he never did for anyone), even gave you his jacket, and that should've been the end of it.

he tried not to be pushy 'cause he knew better now, but he still found ways to be around you. if he saw you at school, he'd just give a casual nod. if you were in the cafeteria, he'd sit nearby, pretending it was a coincidence. and if you caught him looking, you'd glare and he would quickly look away.

he was used to people chasing him, used to girls who always wants something from him, not someone who wanted nothing to do with him. and when you made it clear, he said "you really think the worst of me, huh?"

you crossed your arms. "can you blame me?"

ni-ki huffed a laugh. "i don't even do shit to you."

but then, you might just be playing hard to get, right?

he smirked, grabbing your phone and held it high.

"ni-ki, i swear- give it back!"

you jumped, reaching for it, but he was way taller. he tilted his head, watching you struggle, and then...

fuck it.

because he's ni-ki, he's reckless, stupid and didn't think things through... he kissed you.

it was quick, barely even a brush of lips.

he pulled back, expecting a reaction, but not the one he got.

your face twisted in disbelief before you hit him.

you smacked his chest repeatedly, pushing him, "what is wrong with you?! that was my first kiss, stupid!"

ni-ki's eyes widened. "wait- what? seriously?"

you fought back your tears, shoving him one last time before storming off. "don't talk to me ever again!"

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is doing something completely out of character.

he didn't plan to kiss you. it just happened like some dumb, impulsive thought he acted on before his brain could catch up.

he wanted to reach out but what the hell was he even supposed to say?

"hey, my bad for stealing your first kiss lol?"

"i didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."

"wait, you really never kissed anyone before?"

shit, no. that was all dumb as hell.

for the next few days, ni-ki is not being himself.

he forgot his usual girls, he hadn't even been with anyone ever since he met you.

"dude, what's up with you?" one of his friends asked.

ni-ki just shrugged, flipping his phone in his hands. "nothing."

you were avoiding him like he was some virus. you look the other way when he walked past or really refusing to even glance in his direction.

so, fine. he swallowed his pride and showed up at your house.

you opened the door, immediately frowning when you saw him. "what do you want?"

ni-ki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"i'm sorry, alright?" he said quickly. "i was being an idiot, i didn't think, and..."

"you're apologizing?"

ni-ki groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "yeah..."

you crossed your arms, unimpressed. "took you long enough."

he sighed, stepping closer. "i didn't know it was your first kiss, alright?"

you rolled your eyes, "whatever."

then ni-ki hugged you.

you gasped, trying to make him let go. "what- what are you doing?!"

ni-ki just chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "saying sorry?"

"by hugging me?!"

"would you rather i kiss you again?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

he laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at your flustered expression.

you scowled. "you're such a pervert."

his smirk returned, teasing. "you liked being hugged though."

you smacked his chest hard. "GO HOME, NI-KI."

he grinned, backing away "but we're good now, right?"

you didn't answer, just slammed the door in his face.

ni-ki chuckled to himself, breathing in relief as he walked away.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is trying his best to please you... and hold himself back from being a fuck boy.

ni-ki has a serious problem. these days, he found himself doing things that were completely out of character.

like waiting outside your classroom when he swore he was just going to pass by, remembering your usual order at the café near school and handing it to you in front of everyone like it was no big deal, and making sure you got home safe after study sessions.

he wasn't even trying to get anything out of it because for once in his life, he actually wanted to do things the right way. he wanted to get a girlfr- girl friend. a friend that's a girl. that's all.

totally normal. nothing weird.

but it's so frustrating because you weren't even making it easy for him.

you still roll your eyes at him when he tried to be nice. you still gave him unimpressed looks when he offered to carry your things. and the other day, when he casually said you looked cute, you hit him with a deadpan, "what do you want?"

like, damn. he was actually trying here.

then… you'll also do things that completely messed him up.

your cheeks puff out whenever you concentrate, making him desperately want to bite them.

or how we would notice your tits slightly jiggle and move whenever you're running or simply writing. suddenly, he would have to leave the room for fresh air.

when you got mad at him, all fiery and stubborn, he had the worst urge to just shut you up, not in a way that was appropriate for a friend.

ni-ki groaned, running a hand down his face.

his first thought?

"God, i wanna touch."

his second thought?

"i need help."

you left something at school. suddenly, he showed up at your door, handing your things back along with a bottle of your favorite drink.

you looked at him confused, ni-ki rolled his eyes, pushing the bag into your hands.

"you… bought this for me?"

"don't be weird!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "just take it."

you stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside. "you wanna come in?"

ni-ki shook his head, he knew himself. he knew that the second he got too comfortable, his usual instincts would kick in... he would start flirting, the way he always found a way to get what he wanted.

instead of smirking and stepping inside like he usually would, he just shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling.

"nah," he said. "i'll just see you tomorrow, okay?"

a small smile formed at your lips. "thanks, ni-ki."

he turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder while his heart raced so fast. "welcome."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki who can't figure out if you're just a damsel in distress or actually bossing him around

ni-ki likes to think he's a pretty capable guy. he's used to girls needing him for things... carrying their bags, opening their drinks, giving them rides home. he didn't mind. it boosted his ego.

but every time you asked for his help, he couldn't tell if you were actually helpless or if you're just treating him like some personal assistant.

you handed him your backpack without a word while texting on your phone.

ni-ki blinked. "uh… am i supposed to carry this?"

"yeah." you replied without even looking at him.

"…please?"

you gave him a look. "i could say please, but you're already holding it."

then later you stared at a vending machine like it had personally offended you.

"what, it didn't give you your snack?"

"no..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "it won't take my bill."

ni-ki sighed, pulling out his own money and sliding in a new bill. the machine beeped, and he pressed your selection.

the the snack dropped, you grabbed it, turned on your heel, and walked away.

the way you pouted when you struggled with something, how your brows furrowed in concentration, the tiny pleased smile you gave when things worked out in your favor... it pleased him too.

so when you showed up next to him one day, shaking your phone with an exaggerated sigh, ni-ki already knew what was coming.

"my phone is dead," you said.

he smiled "finally."

you glared, "give me your charger."

ni-ki scoffed in disbelief. "you don't even pretend to be polite anymore!"

you pouted. "please?"

his eye twitched. you're so annoying. cute but mostly annoying.

ni-ki pulled out his charger and handed it to you. "i swear, don't lose it."

"i never lose things." you said, already plugging it in.

"liar." he shook his head. "you lost your AirPods case last week."

you laughed and waved him off. "that was one time."

ni-ki smiled, he felt that stupid warmth creep up his neck again when he heard your laugh.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki asked you to work out with him.

you regret this.

you had never worked out before but when ni-ki said, "come on, i'll go easy on you." you refused to back down.

big mistake.

now, here you are, struggling to breathe properly while ni-ki, just finished another set of weights, stood there looking like some Greek god.

sweat clung to his skin, his black shirt sticking slightly to his toned torso. his hair was pushed back from his forehead and sharp jawline got even more defined.

you gulped.

then he caught you staring. his lips curled into a grin. "like what you see?"

you quickly looked away. "shut up."

he only laughed.

later, back in your room, you are dying.

your muscles ached in places you didn't even know existed. you lay on your bed, groaning while ni-ki sat next to you, arms crossed.

"you're overreacting." he said.

"you tricked me," you accused. "you said you'd go easy."

"i did!" he defended, snickering.

you groaned again, moving slightly only to wince at the soreness in your legs.

ni-ki smiled. "want a massage?"

you looked at him. "you give massages?"

he smirked. "i'm really good with my hands."

you squinted and he laughed. ni-ki began to straddle your back, hands pressing into your tense shoulders.

the moment he started kneading your muscles, your body melted.

"oh… that's so good…" you whispered, voice airy.

ni-ki chuckled. "i am good, huh?"

"ye- yeah, it feels so good." you mumbled, already slipping into a relaxed haze.

ni-ki's hands stilled for a second.

your voice sounded… weirdly suggestive.

he bit back a laugh. he knew you were just tired, but hearing you say that in such a soft, breathy tone? hmm.

he kept massaging, feeling the tension slowly leave your body. it wasn't long before your breathing evened out.

"…did you just fall asleep?" he muttered.

silence.

ni-ki shook his head, you looked so peaceful, face slightly turned to the side, lips parted slightly.

his eyes trailed to your exposed neck, ni-ki's heart pounded while reaching out, gently brushing your hair aside.

and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along the curve of your nape up to your neck.

your body reacted on instinct, tilting slightly, giving him more access.

a soft, sleepy moan escaped your lips.

ni-ki's eyes widened, heart slamming against his ribs.

"…a- are you awake?" he asked.

silence.

panic surged through him. he quickly grabbed the blanket and draped it over you, standing up so fast he nearly tripped.

ni-ki ran home and the second his front door swung open, he stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. his fingers went straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at it while his mind still clouded with you.

the soft moan you let out, the way your body naturally tilted into his touch, the warmth of your skin beneath his lips.

his jaw clenched as he glanced down at cock, his sweatpants doing a poor job at hiding the evidence of just how badly he was losing control.

ni-ki groaned, balling his fists, fighting the instinct to just take care of it.

he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts.

the phone barely rang before a familiar, flirty voice answered.

"hey, ni-"

"how fast can you get here?"

the girl on the other end giggled. "mhm, about 30, 40 minutes-"

click. that's too late.

ni-ki exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto his bed. his hand ran through his hair, feeling the frustration throughout his body. he pulled his sweatpants back up, shaking off the temptation.

and even though he had just worked out, he grabbed a set of weights and dropped to the floor, blasting music at full volume.

push-ups. sit-ups. anything to burn the tension off.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki looked like shit the next day.

you burst out laughing the moment you saw him.

he looked rough. dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, slouched in his chair like he barely made it out of bed.

"what happened to you?" you grinned, poking his arm.

ni-ki groaned, brushing you off. "it's your fault."

"wha- my fault? what did i do?"

he turned his head away, eyes shutting like he couldn't even look at you right now. "just… drop it."

you leaned in, pushing him playfully. "come on, tell meee." you pouted. "fine, then at least let me make it up to you! what can I do?"

ni-ki scoffed, tilting his head back against the chair. "there's nothing you can do."

when class ended and you followed him towards the gym storage room.

"ni-ki!" you called, slipping inside right behind him.

he turned around just as the door slammed shut. the click of the lock echoed through the small space.

"…are you kidding me?" ni-ki muttered.

you tried the handle. locked.

ni-ki groaned, he sat and started rubbing his face. "i really don't have the energy for this right now."

you stepped in front of him, with hands on your hips. "you seriously won't tell me what's wrong?"

and instead of answering, ni-ki suddenly reached out, gripping your waist and pulling you close.

you froze as he rested his head against your stomach, arms wrapped around you.

"just shut up, will you?" he murmured, voice muffled against your shirt.

you brought your hand to his hair, your fingers brushing the strands. you began to comb through them slowly, your touch gentle and rhythmic.

his body relaxed against you, the tension in his grip softening. ni-ki hummed.

you began to smile while playing with his hair, twirling a few strands between your fingers before smoothing them out.

it's sweet... but your legs were starting to ache.

"okay... maybe just a little longer." you thought, shifting your weight slightly to ease the pressure on your feet.

ni-ki didn't move. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, like a sleepy child clutching a favorite pillow.

your legs began to tremble faintly, you hoped ni-ki would notice.

but nothing, he was like a cat curled up in the perfect sunbeam.

you sighed quietly, glancing down at him. your hands still in his hair as you debated your options. "maybe if i lean a little, he'll..."

ni-ki let out a low hum, his grip loosening just slightly as he shifted his head. for a split second, you thought your prayer had been answered, until he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, pulling you down to his lap.

"ni-ki!" you hissed, barely catching yourself with your hands as you stumble forward.

his eyes cracked open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips. "why are you so tense?"

"because you're treating me like a body pillow!"

"you're comfy."

you groaned, glaring at the top of his head. ni-ki added "you should've leave me alone." the smirk of his returned as his arms tightened around you once more.

"you know..." he began, "let's just skip class, you wanna sleep with me?"

your eyes widened, your brain short-circuiting at his words. "wha-what do you mean sleep with you?" you stuttered, leaning back instinctively.

ni-ki flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk growing. "not like that, you idiot." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "i meant just sleeping. me, you, sleeping here. eyes closed. that's it."

you laughed awkwardly. "right..."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki realized that he doesn't want to be your friend.

ni-ki got annoyed the second you started talking about jungwon. he had just introduced him but he noticed the way your eyes stared at his friend.

ni-ki subtly stepped in front of your view, blocking jungwon from your sight.

"hey! move!" you hissed, trying to peer around him.

and instead of budging, ni-ki covered your eyes with his hands.

"what the?!" you immediately grabbed at his wrists, struggling.

he kept his hands firmly in place, waiting until his jungwon hyung was completely out of sight.

and when he finally let go, you blinked, looking around. "where is he?"

ni-ki smirked. "i killed him."

you smacked his arm.

later, he was sitting on his bed while you lounged across from him, "he was really nice," you said, kicking your feet. "and kinda cute too, like a cat don't you think?"

"who do you like better, me or him?"

you blinked, confused. "what kind of question is that?"

"just answer."

"i like you," you said casually. "as my friend."

ni-ki scoffed. maybe he did want to be your friend before but that isn't the case anymore.

"i'm not your friend."

"yes, you are."

ni-ki grabbed your face with both hands, tilting your head up before slamming his lips onto yours, aggressively like he was trying to erase every thought you had of jungwon. "friends don't do this."

rough and desperate, his fingers pressed into your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, refusing to let you breathe while angling your head exactly how he wanted..

you gripped his shoulders, a muffled gasp escaping your lips as he deepened the kiss.

but ni-ki wasn't just kissing you, he was already claiming you.

he groaned against your lips, hands sliding to the back of your neck. holding you in place like he didn't want you slipping away and the second your lips parted slightly, he will deepen the kiss even more, biting at your bottom lip like he wanted to ruin you.

and when ni-ki finally pulled away, his lips were already swollen.

"you were saying?" ni-ki muttered, still holding your face.

you stared at him, breathless, lips tingling.

"…huh?"

he smirked, wiping his thumb over your lower lip before leaning in again.

"that's what i thought."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't keep his hands off you.

you used to slap his hands away.

his arm over your shoulder? gone.

sneaking his hands around your waist? not happening.

grabbing your wrist to pull you closer? absolutely not.

but after the kiss, you started letting him and ni-ki noticed... of course, he did.

the first time you didn't push him away when he rested an arm around your shoulders, he almost did a double take.

you also didn't immediately escape when he pulled you onto his lap and when he linked his fingers with yours? he was expecting you to smack his hands, but you didn't.

"you're getting too comfortable," you muttered, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

ni-ki only smirked, giving your hand a squeeze.

"you're spoiling me, you know." he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "if you keep this up, i'll start thinking you actually like me."

you scoffed, pushing his face half-heartedly.

ni-ki chuckled, leaning in like he was about to kiss you again. you froze, expecting the warmth of his lips- but he only brushed his nose against yours.

he pulled back, satisfied at the way you reacted. "see?"

your cheeks burned, frustration bubbling in your chest. you freed yourself from his grip and walked away, annoyed.

ni-ki watched you go with amusement. "where are you going?"

"far away from you."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki ready to be yours.

"go put on a nice dress." ni-ki said over the phone.

you raised a brow. "why?"

he grinned. "because we're going to a restaurant."

you narrowed your eyes. "we are?"

"yeah." replied. "i made a reservation."

you got ready anyway. and when you stepped out in your dress, ni-ki scanned you up and down, "pretty." he murmured, before grabbing your hand and leading you outside.

before you both enter the restaurant, he suddenly intertwined his fingers with yours, "this is a date, okay?" he said, watching your reaction.

you blinked, caught off guard. "a what?"

ni-ki just grinned and dragged you inside.

your eyes widened as you looked around the table. all your favorite foods were there, plated beautifully under the dim, warm lights.

you turned to him, speechless.

ni-ki simply pulled out a chair for you, nodding at the seat.

the dinner was nice. way more than nice. he talked, he listened, and laughed with you.

"is this real? are you actually asking me out?"

"yes," ni-ki said, nodding. "i'm serious."

your chest tightened. you wanted to believe him but a part of you was scared.

what if he change his mind? what if you let yourself fall, only for him to break your heart once you bit into it?

ni-ki noticed your hesitation. he hated that you had to doubt him but he can't also blame why, though he wasn't just playing around.

he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. "just a bit more of your trust, okay?" he whispered against your skin.

you stared at him for a moment before finally leaning in to hug him.

he held you close, his lips curving against your shoulder. "you were mine the first time i kissed you."

you pulled back and laughed, playfully slapping his arm as you remembered how he stole your first kiss.

at his house, ni-ki captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. his mouth moved against yours, savoring every moment. he then pressed soft kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

he found that sensitive spot that made you moan, he latched on and sucked harder, relishing the sound of your pleasure.

ni-ki started guiding you towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. once inside, he gently laid you down the bed, his body still pressed against yours.

he looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes, he asked breathlessly, "can i?" his eyes flicked down to your heaving chest.

you nodded, granting him permission. ni-ki didn't hesitate, slipping his hands under your shirt to fondle and tease your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

you arched into his touch, panting softly. he swallowed down your needy moans as he devoured your lips again, his tongue delving deep to clash against yours.

"friends won't do this, right?" ni-ki gasped between heated kisses. he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. his mouth moved, licking and sucking at your bare breasts.

your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished all attention on your tits.

then ni-ki trailed kisses down to your stomach. hooking his fingers in your panties, he groaned at feeling soaked folds. "fuck, you're so wet for me already," he murmured, tracing his finger along your slit.

he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out with your panties on. the fabric added delicious friction when his mouth sucked the sensitive bud, lapping at your clit.

you cried out, ni-ki removed your panties. the first swipe of his tongue directly on your pussy made you both moan. you taste even better than he imagined.

ni-ki growled. diving in for more like a starving man. his talented mouth had you writhing and gasping within moments.

he couldn't help but picture how tightly your virgin pussy would squeeze his cock when he finally got to slide inside you. he just know he wouldn't last long once he felt your walls gripping him.

his tongue darted in and out of your slick folds, making you to tug on his hair harshly.

ni-ki's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he licked and sucked your clit with sloppy, desperate motions. sounds of your moans and gasps only served to fuel his own growing arousal with every passing second.

but he promised himself he could wait, for now, he was content to focus solely on pleasuring you, determined to make you feel as good as possible.

he sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, pressing two fingers inside as listened to the squelching sounds of your tight cunt.

you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them in and out. "ni-ki, i...i think I'm going to...ahhh!" your words dissolved into a wordless moan as he curled his fingers just right.

soon, your thighs clamped around his head as you came, your pussy clenching down on his fingers in rhythm.

ni-ki crawled up your trembling body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. "you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth. "i can't wait to be inside you." he said as he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock at your wet folds "i'll be gentle, baby."

"tell me if it hurts too much." he added, slowly pushing forward when he felt your walls relaxed slightly.

you let out whimpers and sharp gasps, the sting of pain clouded your eyes with tears. ni-ki paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled inside completely.

the sensation of your pussy squeezing him was unlike anything else. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you, claim you so thoroughly that you'd never forget your first time but he loves you so he has to be patient and gentle with your innocent body.

your whimpers and moans filled the room, ni-ki's heart swelled seeing you like this, breathless, desperate... he can't believe that your body is his for the taking.

your cunt began to welcome him inch by inch.

"fuck, you feel amazing." he groaned, fighting the urge to hammer into you wildly.

starting with shallow thrusts, he gradually increased his pace, still mindful of your pain. and as ni-ki doing it deeper, he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "you're taking my cock so well..." he praised. "so fucking sexy."

your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back in bliss, lost to the new pleasure and pressure building inside you. ni-ki felt your walls fluttering around him erratically. "ni-ki, i think- i'm- again..."

he knew you were close.

he increased his pace, deep strokes hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust. his hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he fucked his dick into you, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from his own release.

and with a strangled cry, you came undone beneath him. ni-ki followed soon after with a moan of your name, pulling out before spilling his cum all over your thighs.

after cleaning up, ni-ki crawled back into bed and pulled you to his chest, kissing your face and neck but you moved and positioned yourself in his hips, where his hardening cock already poking on your sensitive, beaten entrance. "ready again?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms on your waist, his face nuzzling on your neck.

you giggled and sank down on him with a gasp. ni-ki groaned at the slick heat enveloping him again, making love with more confidence this time around.

rounds later, you're all sweaty and tired. ni-ki wondered dazedly if he'd turned his sweet, innocent girl into a sex addict. "you're so good, ni-ki..." you said, kissing him. to ni-ki, you looked like a sex god, your lips kiss-swollen, chest full of hickeys, your hair is a mess...

completely wrecked by him.

he wrapped his arms around your limp form and rolled to the side, careful not to dislodge from where he was still buried inside you.

and you're there thinking about worshipping ni-ki's body for the rest of your life.

"i'm going to fuck you all over again in the shower." he declared with a wicked grin. you answered with a moan that tells him it sounds like the perfect plan.

never knew sex could hit this different when it was out of love.

a/n: this is too long lol! enjoy <3 read PART TWO HERE

read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read Nishimura Riki as your classmate

read part-timers!ni-ki x reader

read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x ni-ki

read touché - ni-ki x reader

read touché - ni-ki x reader part 2

read exes - ni-ki x reader

[purinfelix]

you're no good for me, but baby i want you - n. riki ✶⋆.˚

summary: after growing tired of his constant teasing you made up your mind not to give Niki anymore of your attention, but you should've known that he wouldn't let you go that easily - and is willing to go to desperate measures to get you just to look at him ──── delinquent Niki x class president reader || sfw but a little suggestive, kissing/making out, so much tension like so much, enemies to lovers sorta? || w/c: 2.7k

a/n: okay i'm trying to get better at writing longer fics/ones that actually have closure bc looking back i realise i kinda always leave u guys on cliffhangers LOLL - also i rlly tried to avoid making this too cliche given the trope i hope it worked !!! actually really like this one so i hope it doesn't flop rip

‘Bad boy’ felt too cliche - at least for your liking. You preferred to refer to Niki as what he was, a delinquent, a troublemaker, someone who skipped most of his classes and spent the rest dosing off or arguing with the teacher. But no matter what you called him you were sure of one thing, he pissed you off.

To be honest, you had absolutely no interest in the sorts of things a student like him got up to in his own time, but it was the fact that he insisted on dragging you into his business that irritated you the most. You weren’t sure why exactly he kept targeting you, maybe it was because he just wanted to mess with the class president or because you seemed like an easy target to him - whatever reason he had didn’t make it any less tiring though.

Skipping classes was one thing, but his constant breaches of uniform code meant that you were running out of warning slips - and patience. It didn’t help that whenever you did, he would only look you up and down with an amused smirk, brows raised as if daring you to continue telling him off - which only worked to make you stumble over your words.

That’s why you had made the decision to stop giving him anymore of your attention, and the most recent time you had seen him sporting his signature look - no blazer, dress shirt half unbuttoned and several silver earrings, you chose to ignore him. You simply walked past him in the hallway without so much as a passing glance, hoping it would tell him to stop wasting your time and causing trouble.

Little did you know, he would misinterpret your signs to mean the exact opposite.

The next morning when you were waiting at your desk you heard a wave of hushed murmurs coming from down the hall, and couldn’t help but feel partly responsible. A loud thud sent the classroom door flying open and a couple of his friends filed in with amused grins - and it was only when Niki followed them in did you see why. Not only had he gone and messily bleached parts of his jet black hair, but he now donned a piercing straight through his right eyebrow which, judging from the pink tinge surrounding it, was both brand new and self-made.

You were unable to stop your neck from craning as your eyes followed his figure, watching as he sauntered over to his desk in the back corner of the classroom, threw his books onto it and sat down. The expression on his face showed that he couldn’t care less about being there, but his eyes trained on you as if waiting for you to make a move.

You hated that he knew you so well, because before you knew it you were out of your seat and at the head of his desk, arms folded with a stern expression on your face. You can’t remember exactly what you said but it must’ve been harsh, and loud enough to summon the attention of almost the entire class, and your teacher who stormed into the classroom shortly after to tell the two of you off. It must’ve also been harsh enough to earn the two of you an after-school detention, which was your very first - though it clearly wasn���t Niki’s.

So that’s how the two of you had ended up alone, in an empty, hot classroom - waiting as the minutes of your detention ticked by agonisingly slowly. Irritated was an understatement. It was taking every ounce of self-control you had not to turn around and punch Niki right there and then. You kept your fuming to yourself, at least for now though, while you worked silently on an assignment, determined to at least make good use of being stuck here for the next hour or so - even if it meant spending it in a tense silence.

Niki didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, having sat himself in the chair right beside yours and kicked his feet up on the desk, twirling a pen in one hand as he hummed softly to himself. You were trying your best to ignore him, and he was trying his best to make that very difficult.

“What are you working on?” he asked curiously as he leaned in over your shoulder.

“Just an assignment,” you shot back curtly.

“Ah of course, what a goody-two shoes,” he scoffed as he sat back.

“Rather a goody-two shoes than a good-for-nothing delinquent,” you mumbled under your breath, though not quiet enough to escape his ears.

“A delinquent? Is that really what you think of me?” he asked in faux-offence, “I’m hurt.” You turned slightly, just enough to see the dramatic pout he had formed across his lips, his brows curving upwards and his piercing going with it.

“Whatever,” you huff, feeling both irritation and exhaustion rise in you, “it’s your fault we’re here in the first place anyways.”

“Oh yeah, my fault that you started a petty argument.”

“Your fault for dyeing your hair that stupid colour and getting that piece of metal jammed in your face!” You cry out, fully facing him now as you felt your face burning hot, “I mean seriously, all I did was ignore you once, and you go ahead and did something ridiculous like that?” Gesturing to his piercing and new hair, you can’t help but feel even more infuriated at the sight of his smirk which only grew as he watched you from half-lidded eyes.

“What makes you think I did it for you?” He asks teasingly, and you suddenly feel your bravado begin to crumble - he’s right, who are you to assume that?

“Well, I-” you stutter, but he interrupts you.

“Well maybe I did,” he laughs softly, “that depends on whether you like it or not.”

“That is so besides the point, Niki,” you whine, “it’s against uniform policy.”

“Oh c’mon, you think it’s a little cool,” he taunts, and you turn back around in your seat, chewing your bottom lip as you’re determined not to give him a response which you’re sure will only fuel his ego.

You sit in silence for a bit, and you can tell he’s watching you carefully in the way he leans in, keen eyes trained on your expression - almost as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking. But that’s a challenge even you’re struggling with right now.

He’s the one to break the silence again. “I am sorry about getting you a detention though, that wasn’t what I meant to do.” You blink in disbelief because for the very first time, he sounds almost as if he really means what he’s saying.

“Is that an apology?” you say, gasping to show your surprise, though this quickly dissolved into a soft laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t sit here and watch you sulk for the next hour.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the tension between the two of you melt away at his apology, just enough for you to want to keep talking to him - even if it means neglecting your homework, for now. Your eyes move over his face, his sharp jaw, his eyebrow piercing glinting under the warm classroom light.

“Did it hurt?”

It’s a stupid question, you know, but it’s the only thing you can think to ask as you fiddle nervously in your seat. If you’re being completely honest, you do think it’s cool, you’ve always thought his piercing were cool - and right now you want nothing more than to reach out and feel them for yourself. But your common sense stops you.

“Well, duh,” he scoffs, sitting back in his seat as his eyes fix on yours, “figured a smart-ass like you would’ve been able to guess that.”

“Just asking,” you grumble defensively, though your curiosity urges you to keep talking. “If it hurt, why’d you do it?”

“Well, you like it, don’t you?” He asks, “that’s all the reason I need.”

You’re tempted to tell him off again, but something about his tone catches you off guard - it’s oddly earnest, and he says it with such a simplicity that makes you really believe that maybe he’s telling the truth and you’re unable to find the resolve to spoil this moment

“Can I feel it?”

He’s almost as shocked by your request as you are, and even as it leaves your mouth you’re unsure entirely why you’re asking it. His eyes widen in a way that you can’t help but find a little cute, even as you’re struggling to process your own thoughts.

“Sure,” he replies, a little too quickly, almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask him that, but can’t believe you actually did. You turn in your chair to face him, your arms coming up awkwardly to bridge the distance between you both but it’s clear you’re still too far.

You’re about to lean forward more in your seat to reach him, until you notice his hand coming down to grip the leg of your chair and it isn’t until you feel yourself moving and hear the faint screech of the legs against the floor that you realise that he’s pulling it - pulling you closer to him.

Once you’re close enough he stops, though his hand doesn’t leave the back of your chair, instead resting there as if trapping you in with him as he leans down as that his face is level with yours. You try not to overthink the way your knees are touching, or how this is your first time seeing him this close and how he’s even better looking up close. Carefully, you bring your hand and pray that he doesn’t notice the way it trembles, as your thumb grazes his thick brow gently. Even though you wish he didn’t, he keeps his eyes open and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you as your fingers close around the small metal ball.

“It’s cold,” you mumble, not sure what else to say to fill the air between you two.

“It’s metal,” he says matter-of-factly, letting out a small laugh at your fascination with it.

“You didn’t need to to do this just to get my attention, you know,” your eyes focus on the piercing as you speak, unable to look him in the eyes when admitting something that feels like a confession.

“I had to get you to look at me somehow.” You’re again amazed at how he can say such earnest things with such a serious face, and even as you look away you know his eyes are on you.

“Most people would’ve just said hi or something, not put a brand new hole in their face,” you sigh, fingers moving to tuck a stray strand of bleached hair behind his ear.

“Well most people wouldn’t be here now with you touching their face, so by my standards my plan worked better.”

“Did that plan have to include getting me my first-ever detention?” You ask in annoyance, though you can’t help but laugh softly at his simplicity.

“Well, not at first,” he admits, “but at least we’re alone, hm?”

“Because you need me alone to talk to me?”

“No, because I need you alone to do this.”

You’re pretty sure if you weren’t already leaning towards him you would’ve fallen backwards from the forceful way his lips crash into yours - and if not from that then the sheer shock of just that. Luckily for you though, he already has an arm snaked around your waist, keeping a hold of you and pulling you closer.

It shocks you though that, despite the initial force, Niki’s kiss is gentle, almost as if he’s easing you into something he knows you’re struggling to accept. He’s experienced, that’s for sure, but you can tell in his movements that he’s holding back from pushing you any further.

You don’t even realise it but your hands are cupping his face, caressing his strong jawline and pulling him closer to you. You open your mouth to talk but the only noise that comes out is a breathy gasp and if you weren’t so caught up in the feeling of his hands in your hair you might’ve stopped to feel embarrassed about how desperate you sound for him right now.

“Niki,” you mumble against his lips, unsure of what to do as you feel your mind struggle to comprehend what’s happening.

“Want me to stop?” he says in between heavy breaths, and even though it sounds like a taunt you know him well enough to know he’s being serious.

You shake your head in response, but decide to have a little fun of your own while you can. “When have you ever cared what I think?”

“Oh, you have no clue,” he hums in a low whisper as he leans back in.

“And when have you ever listened to what I’ve told you to do?”

“You’re right about that,” he smirks, pressing his lips to yours again, this time with the reckless abandon you’ve come to expect from him - almost as if he was waiting for your permission to let go. You thought you would’ve felt a little predictable, pathetic even, for having fallen so easily into his trap and giving him much more than just your attention at this point. But from the way his hands roam your body, grasping for more of you as he whines against your lips you smile to yourself at the realisation that really, he’s the one who’s fallen into your trap.

This sense of control is what finally calms your mind, even if it still struggles with just how ‘wrong’ all of this sounds against how right his lips on yours feel. The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway however forces you to tear yourself away from him, though his hands don’t leave your body as you strain to figure out who it might be.

“Shit, it’s the teacher,” you say under your breath, pulling away from him to smooth down your skirt. Niki clearly doesn’t care, but still lets out a soft sigh as he hangs his head, leaning back in his chair.

“Tomorrow,” you continue suddenly, “I want the eyebrow piercing and the bleached hair gone.” You know you’re being harsh, but you also know that, given what just happened, you can’t afford to be nice.

“Wh-” he says suddenly, looking at you in disbelief, “I thought you liked them though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say firmly, “they’re still breaking like ten different uniform rules.”

“Just when I thought I’d finally broken your guard down,” he groans.

“Well, they’ve served their purpose already, haven’t they?” you taunt lightly, bringing a hand up to swipe at your bottom lip which you can feel is a little plump from him biting it. His eyes watch attentively as you do, and he lets out a soft laugh followed by a nod in agreement.

“You’re right,” he exhales, “but now I’m thinking if I keep them in I might keep getting lucky.”

“Niki,” you sigh.

“I mean, maybe if I had a reward for following rules I might feel more motivated,” he hums, looking away as he feigns innocence.

You pause, thinking to yourself for just long enough. “I’ll be studying in the library after school, maybe if you do as I say I’ll let you join me.”

“Studying? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll be there,” he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile - one that you can’t help but share even as the same teacher who gave you both this detention comes in to tell you you’re free to go.

You watch as he swings his bag over one shoulder coolly, tossing you his signature smirk - only this time, it doesn’t just annoy you, it lingers, sticking to your thoughts in a way you don’t want to admit. Because you know you should be mad, you should roll your eyes and remind yourself that he’s still the same infuriating troublemaker. But as he walks away the only thing you find yourself wondering is if he’ll actually show up tomorrow, and worse, if a part of you wants him to.

[artemisiasmuse]

sex ban | toxic rafe x toxic reader

cw: obvi mdni 18+, toxic jealous rafe, physical violence (not towards the reader), sex ban lifted!, p in v, multiple rounds, unprotected (don’t do this), munch of the year rafe, crying during sex, squirting, headlock, oral receiving for both of them, mentions of blood, again these bitches are crazy

~ 4k words

an: this was so filthy i think i need to go to church (im not even christian) also don’t know if how i described the positions made sense but we move T_T

“you can’t be serious?” rafe looked up from his hands, you’d cleaned off the blood all the while being extremely pissed off. you couldn’t believe he beat someone to a pulp, again, just for checking you out. you hated how good he looked covered in blood, hated how even now you could feel your underwear getting sticky from your arousal.

“i am, no sex for two weeks, maybe then you’ll stop being such an asshole!” surely you were joking, there’s no way you’d hold out on him that long. he knew he wouldn’t survive without your pussy and he prayed you would give up after a few days. his prayers weren’t answered.

two weeks passed with the ease of a thousand pounds dropped onto rafe’s shoulders. he was irritable all the time, practically blue-balled the entire time, and couldn’t stand being in the room with anyone that wasn’t you. at some point, after he begged to at least eat you out, you stopped letting him come over at night even. rafe was practically vibrating with need, yet you seemed so unaffected.

he had a fucking reminder set on his phone for midnight when the two weeks was over, of course he was already on the way to your place at 11:50. you expected nothing less, unlocking the door for him preemptively, and he huffed out a breath when he found you sitting on your couch watching tv like it was nothing. like you didn’t care. rafe was so pent up he might come from a single stroke of your tiny hand around his cock, but here you were, calm and collected. you muted the tv when you saw him, he sat next to you, leaving a gap he normally wouldn’t, and began to apologize.

“baby it’s been two weeks, i’m sorry okay? i’ll do better.”

“you said that last time.”

“i mean it this time, i won’t beat anyone up, unless you want me to.” you roll your eyes at his addition, turning your body to face him. rafe’s eyes tracked the way your shirt rode up your thighs, realizing it was actually his shirt. his mouth felt dry, he hadn’t been so hard from so little since he was a fucking preteen.

“okay.” you conceded, you kinda had to, rafe looked a lil too good like he knew the exact outfit that would make you forgive him easily. his hands were veiny and a ring accentuated his long thick fingers, fingers you missed dearly. yours just weren’t cutting it any more, he knew exactly how to touch you, fill you, make your mind numb. and that was just his fingers, his pink tongue had slipped out to lick at his lips and you can’t focus much longer, all the memories flashing by.

“okay?” rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he couldn’t believe you were taking him back so easily. he didn’t dare move or touch you until you confirmed.

“uh huh, your apology is accepted.” you nodded slow like molasses, your eyes already glazed over with need. he couldn’t tell, he was so caught up in his own desire. and as the word left your pretty lips, the spell was lifted.

“fuck come here” the words are empty, his large hand closes around the back of your neck and pulls you to him, his lips finding your own. you’d kissed the past two weeks but this is different, this is urgent. he’s sloppy with it, tongue peeking out into your mouth, tasting you, sucking on your tongue. it’s less of a kiss and more of a bite, he wants to consume you. you groan into his mouth, unsatisfied with the distance between you two and you move to straddle him. rafe pulls back at that, no he wouldn’t let you, he’d much rather have you on your back, he pushes you down by your neck, the slight pressure makes you keen. there’s no chance for you to sit back up when he’s leaning over you, settling between your legs and kissing you back down.

his kisses trail off, bites and open-mouthed kisses trailing your neck till he reaches your collarbone. your shirt is discarded with a blink of your eye and you wonder if he’s moving too fast. you can barely keep up when a mouth latches over your nipple, sucking harshly. “fuckkk i missed my girls” a lewd pop releases it from his mouth, giving attention to the other one and you arch into his touch. his large hand closes around the now sore nipple, pinching and massaging while he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it. the cold metal of his ring soothes the sting of his bites and you moan his name in desperation. the stickiness in your underwear is getting embarrassing and you feel like a fire is burning in your core. there’s no need for you to ask, rafe wants to eat, he’s been starving for weeks and your pussy is the only thing that can satiate him. after littering your chest and neck with hickies he kisses down your stomach, marveling at how soft your skin is, how he should never take an inch of it for granted any more. when he finally reaches your pink lace panties, he realizes it’s too much work to take them off you. that would require him getting off you and he really couldn’t afford to move an inch away. his fingers trace the flimsy material and he decides very quickly, tearing it off you with ease, and you hear the rip before you feel it. you don’t even notice him stuff the material into his pocket from the shock.

“rafe!” you don’t know if you’re mad or even more turned on but you wiggle under his gaze, blue eyes glued to your puffy and slick cunt. the tv screen illuminates enough for him to see his pretty girl is soaked. he nearly drools.

“getting in the way of my meal, i’ll buy you new ones.” he murmurs, not even looking away once, you huff at his words, and push his head down. he doesn’t need any encouragement, he’s nearly cumming in his pants from the sight of your pussy alone. if he could he’d take a polaroid of it and keep it in his pocket forever.

rafe is a man possessed, pushing you up the sofa length to make space for him between your legs, he hikes one up the cushions to rest on the back of the sofa, the other onto his shoulder so he can fit between them. you don’t even know if you exist to him any more because he’s smiling at your pussy like it’s his girlfriend instead. he shoves his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, it’s honey to his senses and his eyes flutter shut at how good you smell. then his tongue flattens against your pussy and he might just cry. you gasp at the feeling, wet and hard across your opening and clit, so brief you think you imagined it. rafe moans at the taste, let’s you coat his tongue before he goes back in for seconds, swirling his tongue along your weeping cunt until he’s thoroughly cleaned his plate. he’s moaning at your taste, tears pricking his eyes as it stains the back of his teeth, his hands grip your waist to drive you down to his tongue. he knows you’re gonna run from it, you always do. finally his tongue fills you up, delving into and cleaning you out, the feeling of the muscle squirming inside you makes you writhe in pleasure. “taste so fucking good, never letting this go again,” he slurs into you. you can feel yourself get wet again and he feels precum stain his boxers as more of your ichor slips down his throat. it’s not enough, he wants more, his right hand joins in, one finger curling into you along with his tongue and his thumb idly swirls along your clit. the combination of his tongue and finger fucking you and his drunken moans, make you come on his tongue embarrassingly fast. you’re gushing into his mouth more and rafe doesn’t even budge when you push at his forehead, the overstimulation stings and your poor walls flutter around his tongue, trying to drive him out, he only goes crazier. his tongue slips out a trail of saliva and your slick connecting him to you before he attaches his lips to your clit. you shake at the sensation, not yet come down from your previous orgasm. he sucks and laves over your clit, setting your body aflame. he takes the opportunity to slip another finger in, stretching you more than anything in the past two weeks, and he can tell your pussy is going to feel amazing on his cock. you’re struggling to take two fingers and he can’t help but moan at the thought. you hate how quickly he brings you to your next orgasm, your legs threatening to close around him and he makes a noise of disapproval. your mind feels numb now and you jump at his touches. rafe gives you a few seconds to recover, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, but when he tastes you again it’s not his fault he needs another hit. you’re a bit shocked yourself when he releases his hold on your legs and sits back. your wide round eyes making him chuckle at your disbelief. “you’re gonna sit on my face baby.” he resounds and you blink at him twice before sitting up, you wince at the way you’re drooling onto the couch and how you suddenly feel empty. rafe positions himself with his head poised for your pussy to sit on. you gawk at him.

“won’t i crush you?” besides your question you’re raised up ob your knees almost hovering over him, he could just-

“shut the fuck up.” he pulls you close and pushes your hips down to sit you down himself, your sloppy cunt meeting his lips and he’s in heaven. he wants to die like this, suffocated by your pussy. you try to shift your weight back onto your knees but he doesn’t let you, holding you down by your ass. when he licks up into you, you lose your resolve entirely. if he was a mess before, now he’s a goner. he’s spitting up into you, making out with your cunt and swirling his tongue along you, along every inch he can. your rock your cunt over his face, lost in pleasure and when his nose bumps your clit your legs nearly close on his head, he groans at the pressure. you’re practically dripping into his mouth and it’s all he could ask for; tears falling down his face just mix in with the mess of liquids running down his face and pooling on his neck and chest. you continue to rock against him, your cushiony thighs closing around his head and rafe feels himself twitch in his pants, he’s so fucking close just from eating you out. but he can’t even find it in him to care, no he’s crying from how good you taste, he’s past the point of caring. when you finally cum around his tongue he comes in his pants, moaning as you scream his name. you’re shaking uncontrollably, riding out your orgasm and thrashing along his face. your thighs press tightly against his head and he continues to drink you in, until finally your legs give out and you fall off him.

“pussy so good i came in my pants and you’re gonna clean it up.” you look at him in a daze, your body moving on its own accord, moving to your knees on the carpet. your body’s shaking but you still manage to claw at his buttons. “good girl.” he smiles down at you, chin and lips wet from your release and he’s not even dreaming of wiping himself clean, he wants it to stain him, seep into his pores. a whine crawls up your throat as you work his pants off, he’s sitting on the couch in front of you and you want to help him so badly. his cock finally springs free and he breathes out in relief, the cool air making him more sensitive after his release. the worst part is he’s still fucking hard. your eyes round at the sight of him, come lining his length, dribbling down the veins and blushed pink top. it’s so pretty you can’t help but stare. rafe slips a hand around your face, pulling you in, making you stop your staring and instead get to work. you might be drooling from the sight, it’s hard to tell because your mouth closes around him and everything is already so wet. a sick squelch resounds in the air as you lick up and down his length, he fights the urge to thrust into the wet tight heat of your mouth. you make sure to clean up his balls, your hand jerking him off while you’re down there, “fuck you’re doing so well baby.”

“missed this rafey” you hum at the taste of his come, thick and gooey on your tongue and the vibration makes him twitch in your mouth. rafe feels so close already, you’ve already cleaned him up, now you’re just cock drunk, taking him down as far as you can and pressing kisses to his tip. he doesn’t want it to end like this no, he’d rather fill you up properly, so he pulls your head off his length with a pop! and you glare at him and whine, like an insolent puppy whose toy was taken away. there’s a delicious sting from the hair he pulled and heat pools in your stomach again, you can’t tell if you’re wet or if it’s rafe’s saliva you like to think it’s both.

“come here.” rafe hoists you onto his lap, giving you two seconds to adjust before he lifts you both up and makes his way to your bedroom. his shirt comes off along with yours and you clamber up the length of your mattress to rest your head on your pillow while you still can. from how angry and hard his cock still is you know it’s gonna be a long night.

“remember your safe word right?” rafe flips you over, your momentary comfort gone just like that, he presses against your back hard. your ass perks into the air while he arches you just so. he’s waiting for your response, because one look at your pussy, glistening from another wave of desire, rafe knows he’s going to find it impossible to hold back. he’s vibrating with a need to fuck you already, dribbles of precum spurting out of him against his stomach. what a waste, there’s a perfect little hole that could use it. he smacks your ass once, lightly just to remind you to use your words.

“yes, fuck me please.” your voice is muffled against your bedsheets, but he hears it perfectly. when his tip presses against your tight hole, he thinks he might be religious. not to god or anything else, just you. you’re sucking in him, holding your cheeks apart for him like you know he likes and he groans at how you feel like silk around him. your cunt’s so warm and tight, rafe thinks he might never leave you again. once his tip is in you remember how to breathe, the initial stretch finally over. he can’t give you the time you need to adjust, he might start crying again, or worse come early. rafe pushes the rest of his inches in, bullying his way in, pressing you into the mattress just so your cunt could give in. you scream at the feeling of him being all the way in, the angle making him nestle against your g-spot while his tip rubs against your cervix. you feel ropes of pre spurt inside you and you feel tears slip down your cheeks from the pain, you know it hurts, you just can’t find it in you to care.

“s’good,” you’re mind is numb, the only thoughts are spiraling around your boyfriend and his stupid long cock. a sick ring of come and your slick circles the base of his length, his pubes soaked from both of you. he can’t hold back any more, not when you’re wiggling your hips for more. rafe pulls out all the way and slaps back into you, pulling you into him just so he can really fill you all the way. the force of his thrust and the way he tip nudges along your walls, grazing where you needed him most, as you screaming in pleasure, your poor pussy closing on him just so he can stay inside. not that it matters he’s hammering in and out of you so fast you think you might get whiplash. his hips drive you down into the mattress, stuffing you as much he can so you don’t run from it, like you’re already trying to do.

“fuck fuck fuck! too much hng rafe i can’t-“ the slap of his hips against yours are almost bruising, he’s pulling you back by a tight hold around you and it’s hard to breathe. there’s a pressure building in you that you don’t recognize and it’s almost painful how bad it feels to go unaddressed, something must be wrong. but rafe can feel himself getting close, just from your pathetic whines and screams.

“you can and you will.” there’s no room for argument when he’s flipping you onto your back, your head jostling and you blink away the tears in your eyes. you want to see him, want to look into his pretty eyes, rafe can’t help but laugh at your desperate expression. no, he’s no too far gone.

“dumb little girl, i could tell you were turned on, you know?” he maneuvers you onto your side, spooning you and pulling your leg over his so he can slip back in. the new angle steals your breath as you try to focus on what he just said, panic seeping into your system.

“wh-no i wasn’t.” you shake your head insolently, he’s rolling his eyes at your meager denial. his thrusts start out slow, testing the limits of how far he can reach, and it’s not far. a huff of annoyance teases the shell of your ear and you gulp at his proximity.

“tell me the truth and i’ll let you come.” it’s a whisper, soft and sweet, you know what’s to come will be anything but.

“fine! you looked so hot covered in blood-“ he grabs under your knee and lifts it up, slamming deeper into you cutting you off. “oh my god-“ rafe can’t handle not being all the way in, he loves the way his head kisses your cervix, how his veins have molded you to fit them, how he can feel come slipping out of you and dribbling down his length since there’s no space for anything. an addiction, one that he won’t give up. “that doesn’t make it-rafe!-okay!” you manage to get out between thrusts

“yeah yeah i get it.” he’s had enough of your lecturing, the arm that’s not holding your knee, loops around your front, closing around your neck and throat. his thick bicep presses against you in a headlock and he leverages the tight grip to pull you back into him, shutting you up finally. the only sounds that can be heard are of your pretty pussy squelching and gasping for him to be back inside. there’s the occasional moan from you when his grip loosens and the curses and groans from him, but mostly the room sounds like a porno. you’re not sure if you came or you ever stopped coming but your pussy feels warm and fuzzy, like it’s just given up on trying to decipher pleasure and pain.

“can’t come-fuck-need to” rafe frustrates himself with how quickly he feels like he needs to come. his balls are pinched tight, aching for release but he can’t stop, he needs to make it right, make it perfect. rafe won’t admit it anyone else but he’s so in love with you he hates coming without looking in your eyes. his hold on your neck releases and you slump forward tears and drool staining the mattress.

“pretty baby, you’ll give me one more yeah?” somehow rafe knows when you’re cumming, you stopped noticing. you nod dumbly, blurry eyes vaguely make out his face as he finally lets you rest on your back. your body aches and your legs haven’t stopped shaking, but you still welcome him with open legs. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead, shoving into you again, his thrusts aren’t so hurried this time, he’s savoring it. the slow drag of his tip inside of you warms you. you stop crying when he lifts your legs, pushing your knees to your chest, he wipes your tears and kisses down into you. the position is familiar, one of your favorites, and you kiss him back, it’s salty and messy but you can taste the words i love you.

“most beautiful girl in the world, fuck ,how did i get so lucky?” he peppers your face with kisses, giggles erupting from your lips and he can’t believe you’re his.

“love you rafey.” you say it so sweetly anyone would think he’s not 9 inches deep inside you, in a mean mating press.

“i love you angel, can i come inside?” your eyes light up, you both rarely do it since birth control is horrible on your body, but you can’t help but love how it feels.

“please…fill me up.” the words make his dick twitch inside you, more precum dribbling out of your cunt.

“fuckkk gonna get you pregnant, then everyone will know you’re mine.” he’s mumbling to himself, rocking back and forth and a whine leaves your lips. you should be concerned with how possessive your boyfriend is, you know that, but the image he paints in your head is too tempting.

“please.” you kiss his right arm that supports his weight next to your head and he smiles down at you. rafe takes it as his signal to pull out and fuck down into you, your mind blanks. it doesn’t take more than a few hard thrusts for the pressure building inside you to finally snap, seeing white under your eyes as you gasp and scream his name. you’re squirting onto him before you realize it, soaking his chest and dick and he keeps fucking you through it until you stop. rafe can’t help but lose himself as you do it, fucking down so brutally you think he might rip your cervix, if it’s even possible, the overstimulation claws at your senses and you fight the urge to push him away, scratching down his back instead. rafe feels his balls pinch and he can’t hold back any longer, you’re pulsing around him riding out your orgasm and he shoots gooey ropes inside of you. thick and never ending, coating your walls and slipping out the sides, the angle at least keeps most of it in, just like he wants it.

“can’t believe you squirted.” when he finally stops spurting into you, he pulls out, your legs falling to your side as you wince at the aches in your body. without the cloud of pleasure you can feel how sore you’ll be tomorrow.

“sorry” you mumble, turning to where he lays beside you and he shakes his head.

“nah baby i’m gonna make you do it every time.” a wolfish smirk graces his features and you decide you’ll never do a sex ban again. you won’t survive it next time.

[divineturtle]

Bothers me when I'm reading a fanfic and they make Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy just like. A mean asshole? MY Doctor McCoy introduced Spock to baby talk. MY Doctor McCoy bounces on his toes and has a smile bright as the sun. MY Doctor McCoy knocked Kirk *and* Spock out with a hypo to sacrifice himself for them even though the aliens said he was almost for sure going to die, and the other two would probably live. MY Doctor McCoy was like, hey, sure Spock committed mutiny, but do we really gotta arrest him? Yeah he's grumpy sometimes, but have you considered the fact that he's stuck on a ship in Space with two assholes that literally never listen?

I just watched the Abraham Lincoln episode and I stg it's a miracle McCoy isn't actually a huge asshole, because wym "this planet WAS deadly but Abraham Lincoln says it's cool so we're going" "hey, don't do that, you could beam down into lava and literally DIE" "Ugh shut UP McCoy we're following Abraham Lincoln onto the Lava Planet That WAS ENTIRELY LAVA until two minutes ago" dude I'd be swinging at a mfer. Especially if I was their doctor knowing it was going to be my job to sew them back together. They're absolute menaces to him and he still loves them and is willing to die for them every other episode.

And I don't ever want to see another "ahh he hates Spock" when he so obviously does not. In the last episode, he wasn't even sure that Kirk and Janice had swapped bodies and yet again, he was ready to commit mutiny with Spock and Scotty (why does Spock love mutiny? 🤨) He does like to rib Spock and get reactions out of him, but Spock likes to do it to McCoy just as much. He's been around humans his ENTIRE life, his mom is a human, he's half human, "I have no idea what you mean, Doctor, I'm just a simple little logic machine," you cannot convince me it's not a game.

And every time I feel like McCoy is being hurtful for actually no reason, the next scene is Spock taking action because of whatever McCoy had said and allowing himself to tap into that human part of him. He has a way of speaking Spock. It's not always nice but it's a way that gets through. Do you think asking Spock to use his Vulcan powers to permanently alter his friend and captain's memory so he forgets his grief over this chick he fell desperately for and then also she died in the span of like four hours is a great idea? No, he'd probably have some moral or logical issues with that. but just speech at him about love and feelings and stuff, throw something in there about how great it'd be if he could just forget, and he'll do it himself.

ANOTHER THING. When he's an asshole, he apologizes. He's not an asshole often, but when he is, he apologizes. Leonard McCoy is a lot of things, but he's not really a dick.

I think he deserves to be represented for the guy he is. He has SO many nice and good moments, he's just subtle about them. Remember when Kirk was like, "Bones, why didn't you tell me she was blind?" And he was like, "Idk Jim maybe because that'd be rude? Have you considered it's not your business?" REAL. Honestly, real.

This is a much longer rant than I meant for it to be and somehow I still have more I could say so imma cut myself off right here ❤️ If you read all that, thanks, you're just as weird as I am, even if you don't agree with my lil character analysis. If you didn't read all that, then you're not reading this ✨️

[anticipatedexhale]

Can you do the arcane characters with a s/o who is obsessed with their looks and how they’re perceived to others?

Hellooo <3 ofc I can!!

Just a disclaimer u are absolutely gorgeous and wonderful just the way you are! Inside and out! Don't let fake standards and false words put by society get to you please, love yourself just the way u are because although it's the hardest type of love to achieve it's also the most fulfilling<33

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Wish I could be like you, but I’m not that cool.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, sevika

☆ ◞ summary: when you care too much it starts to backfire on you, when you think you lost everything they are right beside you.

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, tons of bad talk about ones body and self, insecurities that may be triggering you some so please be careful while reading.

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had always been confident—he knew who he was, what he stood for, and never really cared much about what others thought of him. So when he started noticing how much you worried about your looks and how people perceived you, it caught him off guard.

At first, he thought it was just normal self-care. Everyone liked to look good, right? But then he started picking up on the little things.

The way you’d constantly check your reflection in any shiny surface you passed. The way you’d subtly adjust your outfit over and over, as if trying to perfect it. How you’d bite your lip and glance around nervously when someone so much as whispered near you, convinced it was about you.

And when you two were out together? Forget about it. You agonized over every detail—your hair, your posture, your expressions. Always making sure you were just right.

Jayce hated seeing you stress over it.

One evening, you were getting ready for an event, adjusting your outfit for what felt like the fiftieth time, inspecting yourself in the mirror with a deep frown.

"Does this look okay?" you asked for the third time in ten minutes. "Maybe I should change. Do you think people will—"

Jayce sighed and gently grabbed your hands, pulling you away from the mirror.

“Babe,” he said softly, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why does it matter so much what other people think?”

You hesitated, looking down. “I just… I don’t want to embarrass you. Or myself. People talk, Jayce.”

His expression softened. “I don’t give a damn what people say. And you shouldn’t either.”

You sighed, but he wasn’t done. He cupped your face, tilting it up so you had to look at him.

“You’re already perfect,” he murmured. “I don’t care what you’re wearing, how your hair looks, or what people think. They don’t see what I see.”

You swallowed, throat tight. “…And what do you see?”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Someone incredible. Someone who makes me laugh, who makes me proud every damn day. Someone I’d still be crazy about even if you walked into that party wearing mismatched shoes and a potato sack.”

You let out a startled laugh, rolling your eyes. “A potato sack?”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Yep. You’d still be the best-looking person in the room.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “…You really don’t care?”

“Not one bit,” he promised. “I just want you to be happy. Not stressing over what a bunch of nobodies think.”

His words hit deep. And for the first time in a long time, you actually believed them.

Maybe—just maybe—you didn’t need everyone else’s approval.

Maybe Jayce’s was enough.

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Mel Medarda.

Mel had always been surrounded by high society, where appearances were more than just about beauty—they were about power, influence, and command. She’d been taught from a young age how to control the room with a well-placed smile, a confident stance, and the right attire. But while she had mastered the art of fitting into the expectations of others, she’d never let them control her.

When she first noticed your obsession with your appearance—how you would fret over the smallest detail, constantly worry about what others thought, and always seek validation from the people around you—she didn’t rush to correct you. Instead, she observed, trying to understand why it mattered so much to you.

One evening, you were preparing for another event, this time a gala held by Piltover’s elite. You stood in front of the mirror, your eyes darting between your reflection and the wardrobe full of options, your fingers pulling at your hair, your expression one of deep dissatisfaction.

“Mel,” you said, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t think I’m ready for this. I’m just not—”

She stepped into the room with the effortless grace she was known for, her gaze soft yet intense as she approached you. “You’re just not what?” she asked, her voice calm but laced with concern.

“I don’t know… I feel like I don’t belong here,” you confessed, your hands wringing together. “I keep thinking about what people will say when they see me. What if they don’t think I’m… enough?”

Mel’s brow furrowed as she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, turning you to face her fully. “Let me ask you something,” she began, her tone serious but tender. “Why do you care so much about what they think?”

You looked down, not quite able to meet her eyes. “Because if I don’t look a certain way, if I’m not perfect, I feel like I won’t matter.”

Mel took a deep breath, stepping closer to you, her hands gently lifting your chin so you had no choice but to look at her. Her gaze softened as she studied you for a moment, her fingers brushing the side of your face.

“Sweetheart,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. “You are already more than enough. I’ve seen you, not just with your looks, but with your heart, your intelligence, your strength.” She smiled softly. “You think people are only judging you based on how you look, but the truth is, they want to see you. They want to know you—the person who carries themselves with such grace and confidence, the one who makes them wonder how they missed such brilliance.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as her words sank in.

“I’ve spent so much of my life trying to fit into others' expectations. To be what people wanted me to be,” Mel continued, her eyes locking with yours, unwavering. “But I realized that I will never be happy that way. And neither will you. So stop letting your worth be defined by others. You have everything you need inside of you already.”

You blinked, the warmth of her words washing over you. “But… I still feel like I’m not enough sometimes.”

Mel gently cupped your face, leaning in until her forehead rested against yours. “Then let me remind you every day how much you mean to me. You’re perfect just as you are.”

You swallowed, a smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”

With a soft chuckle, Mel pulled back slightly. “Good. Now let’s go out there, and when they look at you, let them see the amazing person I see.”

And as she helped you get dressed, there was a quiet understanding between you two. Mel never pressured you to be anyone else, but she also knew how to help you realize that you had more power than you gave yourself credit for.

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Viktor.

Viktor’s perspective on beauty had always been one of deep pragmatism. His entire life had been about improving, evolving, and focusing on the mind’s capacity to achieve, while the world outside often seemed obsessed with superficial qualities. He’d never cared much for what others thought of him or how he looked. But when it came to you, it was different.

He’d noticed, more and more, how often you seemed preoccupied with your appearance. You would spend hours before a mirror, adjusting your clothes or making sure every strand of hair was in place, always worried about what others might think. Sometimes, even after all the effort, there was a quiet dissatisfaction in your expression, and it made him wonder how much you truly believed in yourself.

One evening, after a long day of work, Viktor arrived home to find you sitting on the couch, still in your outfit from earlier. Your gaze was fixed on your phone screen, scrolling through images of other people’s lives, comparing your appearance to theirs. Your posture was tense, your brows furrowed in frustration.

Viktor quietly approached, his voice soft yet steady as he spoke your name. “You’re still awake? What’s going on, love?”

You glanced up, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just thinking. About how everyone seems to have it all figured out. How they look perfect, and I’m… well, I don’t know.” You trailed off, your gaze dropping back to your phone.

Viktor, noticing the sharp contrast between your usual confident self and the person sitting before him, knelt beside the couch, taking your hand gently in his. His tone was patient, understanding, but there was a certain firmness that made you look up at him.

“Your worth has never been determined by someone else’s perception of you,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “You’ve spent so much time trying to please others, trying to fit a mold you never asked for. But I need you to understand something, love…”

You looked at him, unsure, waiting for him to continue.

“You are far more than just the sum of your physical appearance or the validation of others,” Viktor continued, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You are a person of substance, of intellect, of heart. And that’s what I fell in love with. Not the way you look, but who you are.”

You swallowed, feeling a lump in your throat. Viktor’s gaze softened as he reached for your hand, gently lifting it to his lips. “And you don’t need to change for anyone. Not for me, not for anyone.”

There was silence between you, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside. His words settled in your chest, easing the tension that had built up over the past few hours.

“I just feel like I’m constantly chasing something I can never achieve,” you admitted quietly. “Trying to be perfect, trying to be what everyone else expects.”

Viktor’s eyes darkened with concern, but he smiled gently. “What if I told you that the most perfect version of yourself is already here? Right now, in this moment? That you are more than enough, as you are?”

His words were simple, but they carried the weight of years of wisdom, of someone who had seen the world through a lens of endless improvement. Slowly, you found yourself leaning into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace and the security of his steady presence.

“I’m still learning, Viktor,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest. “Learning to accept myself.”

“And I’ll be here,” he murmured, his voice warm and unwavering. “Every step of the way. To remind you that you’re perfect, not because of how you look, but because of who you are.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words sink deep into your soul. In that moment, with Viktor by your side, you realized that the person you needed to please the most was yourself. And with him, you finally understood that your worth was never tied to anyone’s expectations—but rather, to the person you were, inside and out.

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Caitlyn kiramman.

Caitlyn was never one to place much value on appearances. Sure, she knew the importance of looking presentable, especially in her position, but she also understood that true beauty went beyond what the eye could see. For Caitlyn, what truly mattered were values, intellect, and integrity. But when she noticed you often fretting over your appearance, constantly adjusting your outfit, and seeking validation from others, it tugged at her heart. She could tell you weren’t feeling your best, but didn’t know how to reach you—until one quiet evening.

After a long day at work, Caitlyn came home to find you in front of the mirror once again, changing clothes, adjusting your makeup, and constantly re-evaluating your reflection. She leaned in the doorway for a moment, watching you with a concerned expression.

You didn’t even notice her at first, your mind lost in the whirlwind of doubts that always seemed to surface when you weren’t in her company. “I don’t know, Cait. What if I’m not enough?” you muttered under your breath, pulling at the collar of your shirt as if it could make you feel better. “What if they don’t think I’m… beautiful enough?”

Caitlyn stepped into the room quietly, her voice gentle but firm. “Why do you think that?”

You jumped, not expecting her to be standing so close. “Oh… I didn’t hear you.” You gave a weak smile, clearly still upset.

“Babe, what’s going on? You’ve been like this for a while now,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours. She stepped closer and reached for your hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “What are you looking for?”

You hesitated, glancing at your reflection before turning to face her. “I just… I feel like people judge me all the time. What if they don’t like how I look? What if I’m too much for them? Or not enough?”

Caitlyn’s expression softened with a mix of empathy and concern. She could feel how deeply you were struggling, and though she didn’t share your worries about appearances, she understood the burden of those feelings. She gently cupped your face in her hands, tilting your chin so your eyes met hers.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice low but confident. “You are enough. Right now, in this moment, you’re more than enough.”

You blinked, her words striking a chord deep inside. “But what if people think I’m…”

She cut you off gently. “You are beautiful, but more than that, you’re incredible. You make a difference. You’re kind, intelligent, and strong. No outfit or hairstyle is going to change that.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as her words began to sink in. “But what if I’m not… what people expect?”

Caitlyn smiled, her hands gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t need to live up to anyone’s expectations but your own. I fell in love with you for who you are, not because of how you look. And I’ve never been more proud of you than I am right now, just by being yourself.”

Her sincerity made your heart swell, and despite your lingering doubts, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Caitlyn didn’t care about the opinions of others; she cared about you—and that was all that mattered.

“I guess I’ve been so focused on trying to be perfect that I forgot how to just be me,” you admitted softly.

Caitlyn chuckled, her thumbs gently rubbing circles on your cheeks. “And I’ll remind you every day that you don’t need to be perfect for anyone. You’re perfect for me.”

You leaned into her touch, a sense of comfort settling in your chest. “Thank you, Cait. I really needed to hear that.”

She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Anytime. And just so you know, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. You don’t have to change a thing.”

In that moment, you realized that your true beauty didn’t lie in how others saw you, but in how Caitlyn saw you—and how you saw yourself when you let go of the expectations that had once held you back.

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

Vi.

Vi had always been more about strength and character than appearances. She had a no-nonsense attitude and didn’t care much for superficial things. Whether in a fight or just hanging out, she preferred to focus on what truly mattered—what was inside a person. So when she noticed you obsessing over how you looked, constantly tweaking your outfit or worrying about how others perceived you, it threw her off. She couldn’t quite understand why you’d feel like you weren’t enough when to her, you were already perfect just as you were.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, Vi returned home to find you sitting on the couch, eyes glued to your phone, flipping through social media. You’d been quiet all evening, and she could tell something was bothering you. As she approached, she noticed you adjusting your outfit for the fourth time, pulling at the hem of your shirt, checking the mirror again.

Vi raised an eyebrow, concern flashing across her face. “You good, babe? You seem a little… distracted.”

You didn’t look up, still preoccupied with your reflection. “I don’t know. I just feel like people always judge me. I mean, look at them, Vi,” you said, showing her your phone screen, where a bunch of influencers and well-dressed people filled the screen. “Why can’t I look like that? I don’t know… I just feel like I’m never enough, no matter what I do.”

Vi looked at the screen for a moment before setting it down gently, stepping closer to you. “Hey, look at me,” she said, her voice a little more serious now. “I don’t get it. You’ve got all this beauty inside and out, and you’re worried about some picture on a screen?”

You gave a little laugh, but it was hollow. “It’s not just a picture, Vi. People always notice what I wear, what I look like. I feel like I’m always trying to fit into something I’m not.”

Vi tilted your chin up, meeting your eyes with that intense, protective gaze of hers. “You don’t need to fit into any mold, babe. You’re not some... trend to follow. You’re you. And trust me, that’s more than enough.”

You looked away, unsure. "But people don't see that. They only care about the surface."

Vi sighed, her expression softening as she sat next to you. She took your hand in hers, her grip strong but comforting. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see a person who's been through a lot, someone who doesn't need to put on a mask to be loved. Someone who's real. And that's what makes you so amazing. I don't give a damn about what anyone else thinks. And I know you don't need to change for anyone."

You let out a breath, trying to hold back the feelings bubbling up inside. Vi, with her blunt honesty and genuine affection, had a way of cutting through the noise, and for the first time in a while, you felt like maybe you weren’t as lost as you thought.

Vi leaned in, resting her forehead against yours. “You know I love you for exactly who you are, right? And if you’re worried about how others see you, then maybe you should let them see the real you. Because that’s who I love. The real you. Not some version of you trying to impress everyone else.”

You could feel her words sinking in, easing the pressure you hadn’t even realized had been building. You felt a sense of calm begin to wash over you as Vi’s embrace tightened, holding you close.

"I know I'm tough and rough around the edges," she whispered, a playful smile tugging at her lips, "but you don’t need to be anything other than what makes you happy. And if that means wearing your favorite old shirt or going makeup-free, I’m still gonna think you’re the best thing in the world."

A small laugh escaped your lips, and you found yourself relaxing into her warmth. “Thanks, Vi. I needed that.”

Vi grinned, kissing the top of your head. “Anytime, babe. Just remember: you’re perfect to me, just the way you are.”

In that moment, surrounded by her love and honesty, you realized that the only opinion that truly mattered was the one that came from within—and with Vi, you were finally starting to believe it.

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

Jinx.

Jinx was many things—chaotic, unpredictable, and loud—but when it came to you, she was surprisingly sensitive. Her world had always been in a constant state of madness, but there was something calming about being with you. You were her rock, her one constant in the storm. That’s why it bothered her so much when she noticed you obsessing over how you looked, always fidgeting with your clothes, your hair, or your makeup, constantly worried about how others saw you.

One evening, after a particularly wild day of mayhem (courtesy of Jinx, of course), you sat on the couch, staring at your phone screen. Your brows were furrowed, your thumb scrolling through social media, comparing yourself to others. Jinx had been watching you for a while, and it was starting to get under her skin.

"Hey, you!" she suddenly called out, practically throwing herself onto the couch next to you, her usual enthusiasm filling the room.

You jumped a little, distracted. “Oh, hey, Jinx. What’s up?” You didn’t look up from your phone, still fixated on the images that seemed to be making you feel worse with every swipe.

Jinx tilted her head, studying your face closely. Her blue hair bounced as she moved, and her expression softened just a little. “You’ve been like this for a while now,” she said, a hint of concern lacing her voice. “Why do you keep looking at that stuff?”

You sighed, showing her your phone. “I don’t know. I just feel like I’m always trying to keep up with everyone else, you know? They always look so… perfect. I feel like I don’t measure up.”

Jinx blinked, her usual manic energy quieting for a moment as she processed your words. "What do you mean, perfect?" she asked, her voice almost childlike in its confusion. “Perfect’s boring, though! I mean, sure, it’s fun to be perfectly insane, but... you’re way cooler than perfect! Who needs to be that?”

You looked at her, a little unsure. “I just… I don’t know, Jinx. I feel like I’m always trying to be someone I’m not, trying to look like everyone else. But nothing ever feels good enough.”

Jinx leaned back dramatically, her arms spread wide. “You wanna know something? I don’t think you need to look like anyone else, ever!” she said, her eyes wide and full of her usual chaotic energy. “You’re already amazing the way you are, and I don’t get why you keep looking at that stuff. I mean, look at me—no one can look like me and that’s what makes me awesome! So you just need to be you, okay?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her randomness, even as a weight still sat heavy in your chest. Jinx smiled brightly, completely oblivious to the way her words were beginning to work their magic. “I know you think you gotta be something you’re not, but I love you just as you are. You’re like… the best thing ever! You don’t need to change anything to impress anyone, especially not me.”

She leaned forward then, her hands clasping yours tightly. Her wild eyes softened as she looked at you with an intensity that was rare for her. “I love you, okay? You—with all the stuff you think isn’t perfect. I don’t need a perfect you. I need you, the one with all the quirks and the weird little things that make you you!”

You blinked, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at her words. Jinx had a way of making things seem so much lighter, her chaotic nature always breaking through the heaviness of your own doubts. Her laugh was like music, and the more she spoke, the more you felt the pressure you had been putting on yourself start to lift.

“Jinx,” you whispered, squeezing her hand. “Thank you. I think I just needed to hear it from you. I’ve been so focused on trying to change, I forgot what made me… me.”

“Exactly!” Jinx exclaimed, throwing her hands up like she had just made the greatest revelation in the world. “Just be you, and if anyone else doesn’t get it, then they’re the ones who are messed up! You’re freaking awesome, and I’m lucky to have you.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you with surprising gentleness. "Don’t ever try to be anything other than you again, okay?" she whispered into your ear. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort in the chaos that only Jinx could provide. With her by your side, maybe, just maybe, you could start to let go of the expectations that others had placed on you—and just embrace the person you were.

And with that, Jinx’s chaotic energy became the balm you didn’t know you needed, reminding you that in this world of uncertainty, the most important thing was being true to yourself.

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

Ekko.

Ekko had always been a little different. The way he saw the world wasn’t about appearances or surface-level stuff—it was about people, their hearts, and their actions. It wasn’t lost on him that you seemed to care a lot about how others perceived you, constantly stressing over what to wear, how to look, or whether you were keeping up with the trends. At first, he didn’t really understand it. Why would you care what other people thought when you were already so incredible in his eyes?

One evening, after working on his latest invention in the workshop, Ekko was looking forward to spending some quiet time with you. He’d been busy with the repairs and inventions for the underground, but when he finally entered the room, he immediately noticed something different about you. You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine, occasionally staring at the mirror, then back at the pages. The quiet tension in the air told him something was off.

He walked up to you and gently sat down next to you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual. "You seem… distracted."

You looked up, surprised to see him. You hadn’t realized you were being so obvious about your self-doubt. "Oh, I’m fine," you lied, trying to smile. "Just… you know, trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow. Something that’ll make me look good enough for the crowd, y’know?"

Ekko frowned slightly. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the way your fingers were nervously flipping through pages. He didn’t need to be a genius to see that something was bothering you.

He leaned back against the couch, giving you a moment to breathe before speaking up again. “What crowd? I thought you were more about being yourself, not some image you’ve got to keep up with.”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, well… sometimes it’s hard. I mean, look at everyone else, Ekko. They’re all perfect—well-dressed, confident, always looking like they’ve got it all figured out. I just… I don’t know. I want to feel good about myself, but it feels like I’m always falling short.”

Ekko let out a small sigh. He had seen you struggle with this before, but hearing it out loud always tugged at his heart. He knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t measure up, especially in a world that made it easy to compare yourself to everyone around you. But to him, you were already more than enough.

"You don’t need to be like anyone else, you know that, right?" Ekko said, his voice calm yet serious. "I get it, everyone around here seems to care about appearances or ‘keeping up with the Joneses,’ but that’s not what makes someone special. You’re already incredible. The real you—not some idealized version of yourself—is what I love."

He took your hand, gently guiding you to face him. "It’s not about looking like someone else. It’s about being you. And when you’re you, that’s when you shine the brightest. You’re unique, and that’s what makes you stand out. Not some perfect look or what other people think."

You felt a lump form in your throat, his words piercing through the insecurities that had been building inside. Ekko was always so patient with you, always grounding you when the chaos of the world started to feel too heavy. His belief in you, in who you were as a person, was unwavering.

"Ekko, I’m just so used to trying to fit in," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like everyone expects me to be perfect, to look a certain way."

Ekko shook his head, his hand moving to brush your hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and tender. "You don’t need to fit into anyone’s box. You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters. You’ve got something they don’t—your heart, your mind, your creativity. You’ve always had it, and I see it every single day."

He stood up, giving you a playful grin. "You know what’s really cool about you? You can pull off anything—whether it’s a fancy outfit or a worn-out hoodie. You make it look good because it’s you. And honestly, that’s way more impressive than anything I’ve ever seen."

You couldn’t help but laugh, a little of the weight lifting off your shoulders as you finally met his eyes. “You really think that?”

Ekko nodded, his eyes full of sincerity. "More than anything. I’m proud of you, just the way you are. You don’t need anyone’s approval, especially not when you’ve already got mine."

You stood up to face him, feeling the warmth of his words sink in. There was no need to change for the world. You had Ekko, and that was more than enough to make you feel seen and loved.

"I love you, you know that?" you whispered.

Ekko grinned, his eyes lighting up as he pulled you into a hug. "I love you too, more than you’ll ever know."

In his arms, you felt safe—safe to be yourself, flaws and all. Maybe it wasn’t about perfection after all. Maybe it was about finding the people who truly saw you, the real you, and loving you for exactly who you were.

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

Sevika.

The quiet buzz of the dimly lit workshop was disrupted by a small, sudden sigh. Sevika paused, her fingers lightly gripping the wrench she was working with as she looked over at you. You were at the far corner of the room, your attention focused on the full-length mirror. Your gaze was distant, eyes scanning every inch of yourself, your expression more tense than usual.

She could see the way your shoulders tensed, the slight frown on your lips, and she knew that look all too well. It was the look of someone caught in the trap of self-doubt, obsessing over things that didn't truly matter. Sevika, who always carried herself with quiet confidence, couldn't help but notice how much you seemed to care about things that didn’t define your worth—things like appearance, status, and the opinions of others.

Without saying a word, Sevika set her tools down and walked toward you, her large frame cutting through the space with the same assured steps she always had. There was something about your current mood that tugged at her, an instinct to take care of you when she saw you struggling.

She came up behind you, leaning her back against the wall and crossing her arms, just watching. There was no rush to intervene. Sevika had learned that sometimes, you needed time to process things on your own before anyone could help.

After a moment, you spoke without turning to face her. "Do you think they’d like me more if I looked different? I mean… everyone seems to have something special about them. What if I’m just… not good enough?"

The words hung in the air, fragile and raw. Sevika stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Hey," she said, her hand resting on your shoulder, urging you to meet her eyes. "You’re not ‘just’ anything. And you’re not here to be ‘liked’ by anyone else but yourself."

You swallowed, still unable to fully meet her gaze. "I don’t know, Sevika. I just—sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, I can’t live up to… to what they expect, to what everyone else has. I don’t know how to be comfortable with myself."

Sevika’s eyes softened, her hand gently turning your chin so that you finally faced her. "You don’t need to worry about them. You don’t need to worry about being perfect, because there’s no such thing. No one is perfect—not even the ones who pretend they are."

Her voice was steady, filled with that unwavering confidence that made her so impossible to ignore. "You’re one of the strongest people I know, and that’s not something that comes from looking a certain way. It comes from what you’ve been through, how you keep going despite everything. That’s what I admire about you. Not how you look, but the person you are."

Your breath caught, the frustration in your chest softening with her words. For a moment, you let yourself believe her, feeling the weight of your insecurities ease just a little.

"I think you forget sometimes that people who truly care about you… the ones who matter, don’t give a damn about your looks," Sevika continued, her thumb lightly tracing your cheek, her touch gentle yet powerful. "You think I’m here because you’ve got the perfect image? Nah. I’m here because you’ve got heart. You’ve always had it."

A rare, soft smile tugged at her lips as she leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "And you think I’d let someone like you get away with being anything less than amazing?"

You chuckled softly, the tension melting away at the sincerity in her words. Sevika’s tough exterior had always been there, but in moments like this, she allowed her softer side to show, especially when it came to you. You could see in her eyes that she didn’t just mean what she was saying—she believed it wholeheartedly.

"Sevika, I—"

She cut you off, her finger lightly tapping your lips. "No more self-doubt. No more comparisons. You’re incredible. Just as you are."

For once, the mirror didn’t seem so important. It wasn’t about how others saw you, but how you saw yourself through her eyes. Sevika may not always say a lot, but in moments like this, her actions spoke volumes. You let yourself lean into her touch, the assurance in her presence becoming your anchor.

She leaned in close, her voice softer now, just for you. "Now, let’s forget about everyone else for a while, yeah? Tonight’s about you, about us. You don’t need to impress anyone but yourself."

And as you let her embrace you, a weight lifted, one you hadn’t even realized you were carrying.

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

Authors note: I really do apologize if this isn't to ur liking my darling or it feels repetitive I just really could not come up with different scenarios dear God I was about to crash out..

[justwonder113]

Drunk Chan confessing to you

Warnings: Cursing as always. Chan's Pov. Reader is gender neutral. Chan is whipped! Chan thinks reader is dating someone. Childhood friends to lovers. Misunderstanding with a happy ending. Chan is drunk but not that much, more like tipsy. word count-3.4k A/N- Sorry this took me ages to write but I hope you'll enjoy reading. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated.

My masterlist.

If you like my work you can buy me coffee❤️

Chan felt like he was about to lose his mind and weirdly enough it wasn’t because one of the boys did something to either piss him of or to just to be a general menace. No his distress was caused by a whole another thing or better say someone. How in the world was it possible for someone look this gorgeous, so ethereal and breathtaking on a regular fucking Friday?  

He knew he was whipped for you. He made peace with that simple yet not so simple fact years ago. He also knew that he found you absolutely beautiful. Whenever he tried to think of something beautiful your image always popped up before anything else. It was simple as that for him, like the fact that the sky was blue, the grass was green and you were definition of a word bewitching for him. 

Maybe it was a little bit of alcohol he had drunk earlier affecting him, maybe he just fell for you even harder right now (if it was even possible). But right now, as he watched you talk with the boys about god knows about what, he thought that you were the definition of the word beauty. He didn’t know if he wanted to stare at you for as long as possible and bask in your beauty and presence of if he should go to Hyunjin and ask him to teach him paint so that he could capture just how beautiful you looked. But knowing himself, even if it was possible to capture all of it on paper... Chan liked to think of himself as a selfless person, or at least he tried to be, but he was an honest man. If it was possible to capture how captivating you truly were, he would just keep it to himself, he would become the most selfish man in the world. And maybe he was. All he could think about right now was that your attention wasn’t on him, that you paid your mind to someone other than him. It didn’t matter that that “someone” was his friends, the people he considered his family. He wanted all your attention on him, he wanted you to look only at him. God he was losing his mind. When did he become so needy and desperate for your attention? He felt pathetic, how would you even look at him when he acted this way? He reminded himself something he did for years now. That you deserved way better than him, you deserved someone who would give you the world, someone who would cherish you the way you deserved. Even though he would do absolutely anything for you, even though he would make impossible possible for you, even though he would let the world burn for you, you deserved someone who would do even more for you and more importantly always be there for you. He wasn’t worthy of you not with the relationship he had with his work. God, it killed him whenever he had to cancel plans with you and couldn’t be there for you because he had to work. As much as he loved what he did for a living, the same love turned into hate because it kept him away from you. There were even times when he considered to just fuck it and quit, but what would he even do in life? There was literally nothing else he could see himself as. Without a job without a passion what worth did he have? What could he do?  

God, he felt pathetic. He was thinking about all this as he stood a chance with you in the first place. You always had looked at him and saw him as a friend. Maybe there was a moment there and there where it seemed that there could be something more. But your relationship although the years had been strictly platonic. He had given up on hoping for something more years ago. 

He had come with peace with the fact that he couldn’t be something more for you. Maybe it was for the good. You could live your life to the fullest. He was fine loving you from afar. 

God all he could think about was how cute you looked. Your hair was still messy, because you rushed here when you noticed that all of them were quite drunk when you called to check on them, and you were wearing that way too big hello kitty hoodie with the matching black pants Chan got you as a joke that you kept wearing because it was really comfortable. Your whole look today screamed that you only cared about being comfortable and that you were grumpy that you had to get up in the middle of the night to get your silly friends. Still in Chan’s eyes you looked like you hung the stars yourself. 

 God he was obsessed with you. There was no better way to describe the feeling really. Even now the moment your gaze shifted to him and you gave him that sweet smile... He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His body felt warm all over yet he felt his lungs were frozen in place. 

“How are you feeling Channie?” You asked him with that sweet voice of yours. In seconds his mind was swarmed with all the possible lyrics he could use to write yet another song dedicated Soley for you that he kept hidden in his laptop.  Well, hidden was a nice word. All of the boys knew of that file and Chan was more than few times relentlessly teased for his crush on you. They kept pestering that he should just confess, or at least show you all the songs he had written for you and let them do the job for him, but he just couldn’t. 

“Better now that you’re here.” He slipped before he could even stop himself. What if he made you feel uncomfortable? You two flirted from time to time, but lately he had this rising suspicion that you were seeing someone and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. All he knew was that he would rather die than make you uncomfortable with his silly little crush. 

Thankfully for him and his heart you chuckled and immediately his whole heart was filled with joy. “Well, I’m glad. I’m here to bring you home, because little birdie here told me that you had been asking for me all night.” You mused all sweetly. Chan’s head immediately snapped towards Minho, who grinned at him all triumphant. He would have to have a word with him later. 

“God I will kick his ass later. You didn’t have to come. I had no idea he told you to get here. You must have been tired.” Chan only stopped rambling when he felt you place your hand on his shoulder. You looked at him with eyes shining brighter than all the stars combined. It was his words yes and he would stand by it. 

“Calm down Channie.”  Your voice was calm, soothing. If there was one thing he had to choose to listen to till the end of his life he would, without a thought, choose your voice. Your kind, beautiful, soothing voice. He loved whenever you showered him with affection and complemented him. Hell, love wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how he felt, he was on the cloud nine whenever you said even something sweet to him. But the thing about your voice and presence to him was that, even if you weren’t complimenting him or just being sweet. Even if you were just telling him about how your day went, he felt this serenity, this calmness. Whenever he was with you his mind always just shut down. It went silent. And he could actually enjoy living in a moment and enjoy his life to the fullest. Would there even be time when he would be able to convey in words just what you meant to him? Maybe then he would actually stop and be proud of himself as a lyricist. 

“Do you want me to be here?” Your teasing tone quickly bought him back to reality. 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do!” Chan was quick to protest which made you chuckle. God there it was, that beautiful sound. Suddenly everything felt all right. 

“Whipped!” He heard Minho cough into his fist. He would really have to kick his ass later. 

Chan was about to ask you about how you were, how your day went, mundane stuff like that when he heard your phone ring.  “Sorry Channie one second.” You quickly checked your phone. The slight furrow of your brows was quickly replaced by a gentle smile. You quickly raised your finger to give you time and went a few steps away to talk on your phone. He couldn’t really decipher what you were saying to that person but your voice... You sounded do genuinely happy talking to that person.  

The ringing in his ears raised in volume when he caught you call that person “babe”. Did he fully lose you? Did you really start seeing someone? Was the distance between you so big that you didn’t even tell him you were seeing someone? Did he mess up so bad that you didn’t even feel comfortable confiding in him? 

Too caught up with the turmoil in his head he didn’t even notice for a moment a figure approach you. When he brought his gaze on you, you were talking with some man. Sweet smile adorning your face, your eyes shining brightly. Was it that someone? You weren’t talking on the phone anymore. The way you were talking to him you clearly knew him.  It also didn’t help him at all that the man you were talking to was objectively really handsome. There was no way he could compete with a person like him. God, he felt like a joke. There wouldn’t even be a competition. He should be able to face reality now. He had spent years helplessly yearning for you. He should know by now that he didn’t stand a chance with you. God, he felt like crying. 

The rest of the night was a blur. He didn’t even remember how he got into your car. Or the road you took. The last thing he remembered was how he saw you hug that man goodbye. Good thing that man wasn’t accompanying you that day and he returned to his friend group shortly after. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be introduced to your boyfriend. Not that he would ever be. 

It was funny how one moment you could be having time of your life and the next second it could be ruined by one single thing. Chan barely felt like talking, let alone smile or anything of that sort. And as it turned out his mood was contagious. The whole ride was quiet. Chan couldn’t even remember the time where all of them were in the same space and it was actually quiet. 

However, why you were silent and didn’t talk at all was a mystery to him. Did that man upset you? If that was the case, he would gladly murder someone. No one got to mess with you, not on his watch. 

“Channie?” Your voice brought him back to reality. He must have zoned out again. That two extra shots he drank as you talked with that man really messed with his head. As if he wasn’t already tipsy enough. “Are you okay?” You sounded worried. Was it this apparent he was sad? What was he even supposed to say? 

“I’m just tired.” He managed to mumble out after a second or two. 

“What do you think about sleeping over at my house?  We haven’t hung out in a while. I can not be deprived of my best friend for too long you know that.” You whined all cutely making his heart flutter uncontrollably. But he quickly got reminded of the fact that you were not his. And the small smile that wanted to break through got quickly replaced by a deeper frown. 

“I don’t think we should.” It brought him physical pain to utter these words to you. 

Now it was your time to frown. “Why is that?” God, you sounded so sad. It killed something inside him knowing he was the one causing you pain. You quickly backed down. “I mean if you don’t feel like it it’s totally fine. We’re almost at your house too. We’ll be there in few minutes.” You laughed awkwardly. 

God he hated this. Since when did things get weird between you? When did things change? Would things get even weirder and would the distance between you two grow as your relationship with your new boyfriend progressed? 

“Wouldn’t your boyfriend mind?” He hated how he couldn’t ask one question without mumbling like a sad little kid. 

Without even saying a word you quickly pulled over and turned on hazard lights. 

“Channie what the actual fuck?” You tried to sound calm but your voice betrayed you. 

“What? What did I do wrong?” This was weird, he was the one (okay unfairly, yes, but) upset with you, how were you the one scolding him? What did he even do? He didn’t remember upsetting you. Did he forget something? Did he do something and then forget? 

“What did you do wrong? Dude what is up with that question?” You sounded so appalled like he asked the most ridiculous question ever. “What boyfriend?” 

“You broke up?” When did you even manage to do that? Weren’t you all lovey-dovey with someone minutes ago? Did you break up with him via text? No, you wouldn’t do that right? Also why would you break up with him? The dude seemed perfect. 

“There was no one to begin with?” You stared him for a second, you seemed unsure of something. “Is this why you were sulky all evening? You think I’m dating someone?” 

Did he misread the whole situation? He didn’t right? He didn’t just make an absolute fool out of himself right? 

God he did. He wanted to dig a hole to crawl into and never get out. He really felt like crying now. 

“I’m not dating anyone.” You sighed out after few seconds of numbing silence. “God Channie what even made you think that?” 

Chan hadn’t even noticed he started fidgeting with his fingers. He only stopped when you placed your hand on top of his, only then he was able to feel the sting or the small self inflicted  wound. 

Chan took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “You had been smiling at your phone and texting a lot too. You’re always busy too. And when you were on your phone you called someone babe. And the man at the bar too!” Really, how could he not think you were dating someone. 

“I’ve been texting my friends that’s all. We’re planning a birthday party and I guess I’ve been running around a lot for it. Now listen carefully before I smack your beautiful idiot head! I call my friend babe, you have seen me do it millions of times, you even joked about how you could get jealous about it!” You quickly ranted to him, elevating Chan’s worries bit by bit, word by word. 

“What about the Guy at the bar?” Chan didn’t back down. He had to know. He had to know the truth. 

“Why does it matter if I have a boyfriend?” You looked at him with determined eyes. 

“What kind of question is that?”  

“The kind I want answer to. What does it change if I have a boyfriend?” 

Chan felt his face get warmer, how was he supposed to answer that question? 

“Come on, you know it changes everything!” No matter how hard he tried to hold it in, the desperation in his voice clearly showed. 

“What Chan? What does it change?” You raised your voice. Why were you prying like that? 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“For fuck’s sake how will it not Change everything? How can everything stay the same when I have been in love with since I remember? How can I just watch you go to another man just like this? You’re everything I have ever wanted and loved. You’re my everything! How can you not see that? Every song I have written is about you, every thought I have is about you, my heart simply beats just for you! How will it not change anything? It will kill me to see you with another man. I would do anything in this world for you but not let you go. I could never let you go!” 

God, he said it. He really said it. He finally admitted just what he felt for you. Well yelled would be more accurate word to describe it. But yeah... He finally admitted his feelings. It was like weight got lifted off his chest but as the seconds passed in absolute deafening silence, maybe it was better to keep it in. 

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He was such an idiot. He should have kept it to himself. Why didn’t you say anything? Were you that disgusted? Would you stop being friends with him now? Did he just lose you? 

He couldn’t even fully grasp what happened. One second he heard a clink of a seatbelt opening and next second your lips were on him. The lips he had dreamed of tasting for years were now kissing him. Did he just die and wake up in heaven? 

Your lips were soft as silk and so warm and you kissed him so tenderly almost hesitantly. As if a dam broke inside of him, he quickly opened his seatbelt and brought himself closer to you. There was no way he could hold himself back now that he got to know how you taste. Biting down on your lip gently he could feel your lips part. He immediately deepened the kiss. God he loved it, how you tasted, how you clung onto him, how soft and pillowy your lips were. His whole mind was consumed by you, he was overwhelmed in the best way, all he could feel was your lips caressing each other, your warmth surrounding him, your cold fingers that held his face gently, your sweet scent that was making him go numb. God he could feel how he was slowly getting more and more addicted to you. 

When you leaned back for air he couldn’t help but as he tried to chase your lips but you stopped him giggling. God did you have any idea what you did to him? He was at your feet at your mercy, did you even realize that? 

“Since I have to spell everything out for you today you beautiful dummy, I have been in love with you for years! I just didn’t think you felt the same way. Okay, there were times I did, but like you always backed down! And today seeing how sulky you got over me talking with a coworker who was with his boyfriend by the way, I thought that maybe this was the day I could finally get to the truth. Thankfully You return my feelings because if you didn’t I don’t think I would be able to get over you.” Chan physically couldn’t  let you finish talking a he leaned in and captured your lips in another searing kiss. As much he loved your voice and listening to you talk he had just realized that he loved kissing you more. Also to think that you thought that there was a possibility that he didn’t love you... He just had to stop you. 

“Of course I love you. God I adore you! You’re definition of perfection, live representation of love and beauty for me. I don’t think there’s even a universe where I don’t love you!” 

Hearing you giggle made his heart leap in joy. “God you’re such a sap Channie.” Gently bringing him closer to you by his shoulders you gently pecked him. Chan couldn’t help but mirror your grin as he wrapped his arms around you, basking in your presence, enjoying living this moment with you. 

“You’re one to talk.” He couldn’t help but tease back before leaning in to quickly peck your nose which made your smile widen. 

“We’re a perfect match then.” You mused, clearly satisfied. 

“Yeah, we really are.” Chan smiled to himself and hugged you closer feeling finally at peace. Finally feeling whole. 

Reblogs and feedback are gretly appreciated^^

If you like my work you can check my Masterlist or you can buy me coffee ;)

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid @annie-boleyn

[gangstalkerbarbie]

No hate to anyone talking here but I'm gonna be real for a sec I don't understand this take. Obviously you can both get famous and make money on here.

You know those accounts that keep showing up on YouTube channels and sell merch of themselves? You can buy merch of pukicho because pukicho a hustler. That creep Neil Gaiman used to live here (and tbf I always found him creepy and patronizing, maybe because I had never read anything of his so didn't have the rose tinted glasses, but that did nothing to make him less famous).

Haven't you ever, in the wake of a humanitarian disaster somewhere non-Anglophone, gotten a lot of very mysterious messages in obviously native English that violate the manners people would have around begging in those places, from ostensible survivors of the catastrophe? Which, exploiting the fact that the infrastructure to send and receive money there might be very compromised and that you probably have no idea what normal people with loved ones there do about that, keep asking you for Paypal donations and gift cards?

What about the entire community of Artists On Tumblr, whose idols are the ones that, in fact, manage or once managed long ago to make money off of people on here?

You aren't famous on Tumblr because you aren't the type of person to want to become famous, and you aren't rich off of Tumblr because you aren't famous enough to sell merchandise of yourself and also because you aren't the type of person to exploit its core vulnerable demographic (teenage autistic girls who like cartoons).

This is commendable, but not actually intrinsic to the website or its culture. It's a positive reflection on everyone who reblogs the sentiment and believes it, but there are market forces you could ride to fame and fortune with a little effort everywhere, for eyes that wish to see.

all articles about tumblr’s “decline” boil down to 2 things: you can’t get famous on here and you can’t make money on here. And they don’t get that that’s why we like it here.

[kaisentine]

if there was one thing you could miss about kaiser it’s being able to run your fingers through his long messy hair. it’s the way the tips of your fingers occasionally bumped on his scalp, it’s the way your fingers might’ve gotten stuck on a knot that you’d have to use an actual brush on, it was the way he’d show up to training with little untied and half-finished braids that would eventually just . . . fall after every goal, maybe it was also the way kaiser said he hated it but didn’t punch you in the face.

“ness, can you braid that side?” you ask the man that’s on the opposite side of you. kaiser looks annoyed—sitting with his legs crossed while the both of you guys knelt at his sides to play with his long hair. “sure but we have practice soon,” he responds with a smile and kaiser groans at his very enthusiastic teammate.

that’s why when ness agreed to cut kaiser’s hair, you felt betrayed—devastated, even. “oh good graciousness, when did that happen?” you ask with a jaw that’s wide open as you stare at his new hairstyle, it’s hard to describe into words but it’s really . . . eye-catching, especially with the blue hair dye that mixes with his blond hair.

“wanted to get rid of it.”

you don’t play with his hair anymore, mostly because you basically have nothing to tug on anymore other than the two stupid rat tails he has to which you have twisted together at least once. your finger-combing agenda suddenly vanished and your fidget toy which was his hair was replaced by numerous hair-ties and bracelets.

not like he minded. he finally had his hair for himself without some person overtaking it with their hands and he didn’t have to bother himself with putting it up any longer.

nope, he was totally lying—he did mind. he minded that there were no more hands—your hands—getting tangled in his hair and the dull pain that came with it. he minded the way your fingers fiddled with those objects instead of his hair. he didn’t necessarily care about his hair, he cared about your hands in his hair.

he thinks you’re being real stubborn,

kaiser is fed up now. the man is crazy enough to grab your wrist in the middle of nowhere when you’re twisting a black hair-tie and bring it to his head (CRINGE EWWW). “what are you doing?” you’re as shocked as you were the day you saw his new hairstyle—by instinct, you try to remove the fingers that are caught up in his locks but his grip is deadly and unwilling to let go. “exactly what it looks like.” he’s saying it straight-faced without an inch of regret in his actions nor words. you roll your eyes at his insistence because all this time, you thought he hated when you threaded your fingers around his hair. “didn’t you say you didn’t like me doing it?” you question, fingers unwilling to move. “i’ll hate you even more if you don’t move.” he grumbles.

but he’ll fix that.

sticky note. lowkey me just mourning his hair . . . someone please tell me kaiser won’t break plsplsplslpls don’t do this to me i can’tican’tican’t omg no bring kaiser back kaiser comeback when pls don’t go back to germany pls make it up with ness plspslpslpslsplspsls don’t die plsplsplsplsplsplspls

[satellite-evans]

Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!

a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3

sick on tour

The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.

You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.

“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.

“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”

He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”

“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.

Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.

“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”

You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.

You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”

His brows furrow. “You—”

“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”

Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”

You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."

You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.

You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”

After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”

"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.

"Drink Harry." You said sternly.

He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.

“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.

“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.

His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”

You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”

And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.

Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

[geschiedenisish]

Today I came across this video by Dan Olsen. And I really like it when he says "this is how the nazi's wanted you to see them".

One very simple way to resist. Even IF you feel hopeless. Even IF you don't protest or resist in any effective way. Just existing is also helping. Just laughing, mocking and saying 'nu-uh' is also helping.

Being gay myself and being 'good' in all the other ways. They want me to be 'normal'. To not complain, to not be queer. I can be gay, but in a way that doesn't offend them. Then I am perfect in their eyes.

The most awefull thing to a conservative. The thing they despise most. Is being confronted with your hope every single day. You know who bullies hate? The people who keep mocking them. Laughing in their face, even when beaten up on the ground. The people they can't controle. The people who keep saying 'nu-uh'.

Because that's the fundamental thing they want; power and control. And they can get power over you, but not control. You can only give them control. And when you mock them, laugh at them, tell them to their face that they are bad people. You question their authority. And it enrages them. Because it is the one insecurity they can't fight away. Your disrespect for them is the one thing they can't take from you.

'You can kill the person, but not the idea.' as long as you can keep that annoying fear circuling in their head. As long as you can keep them scared that there are still people out there, just not giving in. People that obey, but don't listen. People that don't care, that follow, but don't love. That is the one way in which you can still weaken them, if only a little.

Because laughing down is very easy. Bullying from the top is very easy. But bullying up, laughing with the finger pointed at the powerfull. That is resistance. And again. It's not much. But it is something they absolutely hate, it is the last step they won't gone. But as long as we don't let them, it will NEVER happen, not matter the rest of the ways in which they can control us. They can NEVER get respect from you, unless you give it to them. And you can always keep a little disrespect, a little bit, and use it against them. Share that disrespect with others. Maybe even create class conciousness and start and uprising. You never know how powerfull a joke can be. Because disrespect. Disrespect is the one thing they can NEVER take from you unless you let them!

while being depressing, this is also sort of fascinating to me bc there’s something so…inauthentic here. what i mean is that if you saw something like this back in say 2001 (which you probably wouldn’t, at least for carl’s jr. but i digress) it would seem tacky but in a “sex sells” sort of way.

seeing this in 2025, it’s clearly purely a political statement and you can tell partially bc the image itself is so oddly sexless. it’s like there’s more titillation in the prospect of “owning the libs” than in the image of the scantily clad blonde white woman itself.

[brodyfoxxsmassivetits]

so... poweredd huh???

drew 2024 but man it REEKS of 2023 ough.. still cute though

also preceeds this post but technically both are tangentially related...cool!

speaks to how many ideas I have clanking around I forget about, call me captain unoriginal babey!!!!

[kkoga]

DO IT. DO THE HURT NO COMFORT. PLPSLSPLSPSLSPLS I LOVE ANGST!!!

-🎧

A/N : your wish is my command....

RAINY NIGHTS, sophia laforteza x fem!reader

Warning ! Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, mentions of sensitive topics, not proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! Cologne by beabadobee

WC — I dont knkw bruh i wrote this and its 3 fucking am im not mentally sane lawl phones also 7 percent.

Synopsis ! After Sophia Laforteza fucks up multiple times, Y/n decides she's had enough. Time and time the girl had waited, but much to her dismay, all Sophia had done, was disappoint her.

Y/n shamefully exits the restaurant, feeling dozens of eyes on her. The girl had been waiting for her girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza, to show up to a date they've been planning for weeks now.

The first hour wasn't so bad. Maybe she had gotten stuck in traffic, or maybe she would be just a little late. The second hour was worse. At that point, waiters and waitresses had started asking her where her partner was. And what Y/n hated the most, was the fact that she had no answer to their questions.

Now here she was, after the fourth hour of waiting. It was currently 12 am, and much to the girl's luck, it had just started raining.

The girl could only sigh.

"What a great marvellous day! Not only does Sophia leave me waiting for our date, it starts raining right after I get kicked out! Absolutely hilarious!" Y/n mumbes to herself, tears beginning to well up.

"Maybe she just forgot. I mean, she's busy afterall..." The girl tried her best to convince herself that this was going to be a one time thing.

She was wrong.

Y/n bites her inner lip. It has been 2 hours since their designated sleepover. It's been weeks since Sophia had gone over to her house. So they'd been planning for a movie night. And tonight was that night. So why exactly has Sophia been ignoring her calls?

Y/n presses the call button once more, but to no avail, she was met with Sophia's voice mail for the nth time.

The popcorn was starting to get cold, and the ice cream was starting to melt. Y/n sighs. It's been two hours. Maybe she got caught up in an emergency schedule?

"Couldn't she just have told me...?" Y/n shakenly whispers to herself. This was the fourth time Sophia had stood her up this month alone.

Y/n begrudgingly placed the ice cream back in the fridge and seals the popcorn in a random container. The sound of rain keeping her grounded.

"It's okay. This will be the last time this happens."

Finally. Sophia had finally shown up to a hang out. Y/n had been waiting for the past month. The girl had greatly missed her girlfriend, and she hoped Sophia felt the same.

"Sophie! Hi!" Y/n ran up to Sophia, and hugged her as tight as she could. Afraid to let go, scared she might lose the one person able to cheer her up with a simple smile.

"Y/n! Baby! Hi, i missed you so much." Sophia hugged the girl back, and for a moment, Y/n thought,

"Finally. We're back to normal. Oh god, how I've missed my girl."

Y/n couldn't help the small but sweet smile that had formed.

It had been an hour since their hang out started, and apparently, Sophia had to go. Y/n felt sad, but knew it was her job, her dream. And Y/n would never get in the way of that.

As Sophia entered her car, Y/n bid goodbye to her girlfriend.

"Bye Sophie, miss you, and i love you." Y/n leans down for a cheek kiss, almost missing the unreadable expression Sophia had on her face.

"Yeah, bye." And with that, Sophia drives off to god knows where.

"No i love you too...? No... maybe she just forgot. It's fine." And suddenly, rain had started pouring. Y/n quickly ran for cover, but couldn't avoid looking like a somewhat wet puppy.

It was infact, not fine. It had been three months since that little mini date, and Sophia hadn't said the words "I love you". Atleast not without Y/n basically telling her to.

What went wrong? What did Y/n ever do? Did she offend Sophia? Did she do anything to form this... this gap between them?

Y/n felt so lost. So... confused. She was so sure she hadn't done anything. At least not anything she could remember. Well, she was going to find out tonight.

The door opens widely, in a swift manner. And in comes Sophia, sick and worried.

"Y/N, BABY, ARE YOU OKAY?? I came as soon as i got the text, I—" The panicked Sophia came in, expecting to see an injured or sick Y/n. But all she had found was Y/n sitting on the chair of one of her counters, with a stoic look on her face.

Sophia's breathe was heavy, like she had ran to get to Y/n's apartment.

"Why are you completely fine? You texted me it was an emergency Y/n, I was busy—!"

"Well, you always are, aren't you?" Y/n looks up to Sophia's eyes, and frustration begins to fill the Filipina.

"Excuse me? You know I'm constantly busy. For fucks sake, I'm an idol! You can't—"

"I know. I know what I signed up for, Laforteza. I know I'd never get in the way of your dreams. You would never even let me." Y/n gets off the stool, and faces her girlfriend.

"So what's your point! What, you call me here because you missed me? I was in a fucking meeting Y/n. With one of HYBE's officials!! Do you know how fucking important that is?" Sophia scratches her head in disbelief, her anger bubbling up faster than it ever has. Y/n sighs defeatedly.

"More important than me?"

Silence filled the apartment. What felt like hours were only a few measly seconds.

"The silence was more than enough, Laforteza. I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of you leaving me hanging. At first, it was a date here, a date there, but nowadays, it's like everything we plan just ends up with me waiting."

"But I'm trying Y/n! I'm trying my best for you, for my members, for my fucking dream. Why can't you just understand that?"

"Then answer this, Laforteza. When was the last time you had told me the words "I love you"? When was the last time you had willingly told me those three words."

Sophia tried to recollect, the Filipina had really tried her best. But the realization had hit her hard.

"Fucking THINK Laforteza. Give me a goddamned answer. When was the last time you had given me a sincere, loving, "I love you"?... ANSWER ME!"

"I... I can't remember...." Sophia had started tearing up. Why couldn't she fucking remember the last time she had said I love you to her own fucking girlfriend?

Y/n let out a laugh. But it wasn't the usual light and hearty laugh Sophia had always heard. This laugh sounded painful. It was like all of Y/n's vocal chords had suddenly forgotten what a laugh had sounded like.

After a few seconds, Y/n's laughing had turned into sobs.

"Do you know how many times I've had to shamefully walk out of a restaurant, or get kicked out? Sophia, everyone looked at me. Their eyes were so full of pity. The waiters and waitresses constantly checked up on me like I was some poor child, left behind by her mother. Countless times, Sophia. I endured it all, thinking it would be the last time."

Y/n's voice had started cracking, and the girl had made a face Sophia had never seen before. One filled with so much sadness, so much sorrow.

"But time and time again, you proved me wrong. Every date you stood up, every "I love you" left unanswered, destroyed me, Sophia."

"Baby... baby I'm so sorry, please—" Sophia tries to move closer to Y/n, but the girl pulls away.

"Don't. Don't ever call me baby ever again. You don't get the fucking right, Sophia."

"I'm so disappointed in you Sophia. I never thought you'd ever treat me this way. Your career may have excused a missing date or two. But seven in a row? Sophia, we've gone on three total dates for the past four month's. And we had planned seventeen. Seven fucking teen Sophia. You stood me up fourteen times, and that's only for the past four months."

"I.. please I'm so—"

"So let's end this."

"...what?"

This felt so surreal. Y/n had just asked her if they could end it. Sophia had felt her whole world crumble. She caused this? Has she really broken down the one person who had supported her through everything?

"No.. no, no we aren't. Please, just give me a chance to—"

"No, Laforteza. Get out. We're over."

Sophia laughs, hoping this was some sort of wicked sick dream.

"We aren't over Y/n. Please, I just—"

"We've been over for the past seven months, Laforteza. What we've had for those last few months was just me trying to keep us both on the same page. But a relationship requires two people. We can't keep going if your heart isn't in it, Laforteza."

Sophia couldn't help it. Her tears had burst out like there was no tomorrow. The girl hadn't cried like this for a long, long time.

"But.. but I need you Y/n, please..." At this point, the Filipina had gotten on her knees.

"No, you don't. Hell, you don't even want me. You just think you do. So please, get up and leave, before I say things I don't think I can take back."

"I can't just leave!"

"Yes you can. Leave. For the both of us, Sophie." The mention of her nickname was driving Sophia crazy.

"But I fucking love you Y/n!" .

Y/n looks at Sophia with a tired face.

"Do you really?"

Sophia looks at Y/n. A look of desperation displayed on her pretty face. Y/n hates how she's never going to see that face ever again. Hates how she's never going to kiss that pretty face to sleep ever again. Hates how those soft and comforting arms will never comfort her ever again. Hates how she will never wake up next to the love of her life ever again. Hates how Sophia will never be hers ever again. But she was okay with that. She knew it had to end one way or another. It was better this way.

And so, after more back and forth conversations, Sophia reluctantly leaves. Sophia closes the door, and Y/n locks it right after.

Y/n will never open up her heart for Sophia ever again. And the latter knows that. They were over. They were really over. Neither could believe it. The two fall to their knees, on opposite sides of the door. The sound of heavy rain masking the others cries.

Guess rainy nights were never their thing.

[ryiju-muunie]

Anon—would love to see your take on really perverted and manipulative zoro who convinces reader to fuck him to make him feel better (maybe he's feeling "sick" or something). and while reader rides him he praises her (maybe some 'good girl')? also it could be hot if alcohol was involved? this sounds insane but... i feel like you'd write it just so deliciously !!!

Zoro had his eyes on you all night.

Like a predator to his prey, he stalked you throughout the corners of the club. He watched every movement you made, every touch you gave another man, and every sip you took of your drink. The only reason you even brought him there was to make him jealous and he loathed it.

But he knew, you both knew, he had you wrapped around his thick fingers. With one second he could snap and you’d come over to him like a dog on your knees, ready to do anything to help fulfill his desires.

Maybe you had one too many to drink- or maybe he did too- but with haste he forced you out of the club. Zoro feigned sickness as he always did. Maybe you knew he did it on purpose to get you away from other men. Maybe you knew that when he said he wasn’t feeling well the only cure was your sweet pussy.

You two didn’t make it past the car. Clothing ripped and teared as he clawed through your shirt, pulling it off and bringing you closer to his face. His breath was hot against your breasts as he took one into his mouth. You stifled a hot moan and bit back your whines as his tongue traced circles around your areola.

“Yeah?” Zoro pulled back with a line of saliva hanging from his bottom lip, “I knew you’d be some help.. I’m just so sick..” His burly hand came up from behind to run up the small of your back, resting his digits along the curve of your spine.

You nodded your head and brought two hands to cup his face. He hated when you got so tender with him because then, and only then, would the tables flip and he would melt into your touch. Zoro exhaled and leaned his chin into your palm as you lightly traced circles around his skin. For a soft moment it was quiet, for one second it was peaceful. But you couldn’t ignore the bulge pressing against your pubic bone and how large he was even through his pants. It made you salivate.

“I’m gonna make you feel better.. Kay?” You retracted your hands. A small giggle flew from your mouth when you saw his pout, but you went to work anyways. Two hands came and unzipped his fly, freezing his cock from the confines of his boxers and stiff jeans. He was large and dripping just for you.

“Only you, Princess,” Zoro exhaled when you wrapped your small hand around his shaft. Well you tried to anyway. He was large that two hands sufficed. You slowly ran your fingers up and down his length, bringing his erection to a head.

“Fuck..” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest, “You know how to… mm.. fucking fix me, baby.”

You couldn’t take a second longer not being stuffed by his fat cock. As much as you wanted to make sure he felt better, you needed him in every way that wasn’t normal. You didn’t care he was using you like this, all to get you away from other people. You didn’t care it was a trick that always ended up in sloppy sex. You couldn’t care less.

Your pants came off and so did your panties, mounting yourself onto the tip of his cock. You were wet. But you could be wetter. Slowly you pressed his cockhead against your clit and rutted back and forth. It was a slow movement of your hips that swiveled to get that perfect angle, to fuck yourself against him for a little while longer.

Zoro let out a groan and planted his hands on your hips. You knew what that meant. Within a few seconds he forced you down his length with a buck of his hips. You cried out in something that was a mix of pleasure and pain as he began to fuck himself on you. You were nothing more than a sex toy as he forced you up and down, letting your hands grip his shoulders, and letting your mouth hang open.

“Good girl,” he breathed into your ear, “When I’m done with you… it’s gonna feel real good. You don’t know who the hell you’re mm.. f-fuck— messing with,” his hips stuttered when he found your perfect sponges spot, taking you in and fucking you like the good girl you were, “Looking like that.. t-talking to other men like that— do you know how bad you tease m-me?”

“You fucking.. s-shit.. you mm.. you tease.” Zoro’s cockhead kissed your g-spot and rubbed against your walls so good— so fast, it was too much to bear.

You felt yourself begin to unravel within seconds of him fucking you like a whore. Your walls clenched around him and you cried out, jerking your hips as you began to squirt your orgasm down his length. All the while he whispered filth into your ears. Praise, condescending remarks that had you wet with desire. That had you keening for more of his fat load inside you.

“…You know what you’re doing, baby,” he cooed, running his hand up your back, “Asking for my cock… you’re practically begging for it with your body. Ye-yeah… your body’s giving you away..”

And when he came it was white hot. His dirty talk came to a sudden halt and he let out a loud groan. Zoro’s thrusts started to get sloppy— started to fall apart as he started to cum. He shot his hot spend inside you and grunted at each pass through his slit. You made him so sensitive.

You made him unravel and come undone so quick. It was so good. Fuck it was perfect. It was you.

Strawpage | Bluesky

[runninriot]

when it's love, it lasts forever

another fill for my @steddiebingo card

prompt: mixtape | rated: T | wc: 1.733 | tags: post Vecna, established relationship, romantic fluff, reminiscing about the past | also on ao3

   “Oh my God!”

Eddie’s stunned voice filters in from the other room, causing Steve to stop what he’s doing. He sighs, feels mocked by the piles of clothes still scattered around the room, waiting to be organised into the newly put up dresser.

Steve cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, trying to ignore the dull ache in his muscles. He is tired. Exhausted from the long drive, physically drained from loading and unloading the van, from carrying boxes and furniture – there’s so much that still needs to be done, which is why he hates to leave his task unfinished.

But curiosity wins, so he walks into the living room to find his boyfriend sitting on the floor with his back turned, surrounded by boxes he was supposed to unpack. Instead of him stacking up the bookshelf like he said he would, it seems like something else must’ve caught his attention. Not that that’s new; Eddie gets so easily distracted sometimes. Steve doesn’t mind, has long since learned to keep up with his boyfriend’s antics – he’ll get there eventually and a little distraction doesn’t hurt anyone.

   “What you got there, babe?” Steve asks when he walks closer, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder to see what’s gotten him all excited.

   “I can’t believe you still have that.”

Eddie blinks up at him with big, round eyes that have gone all soft, revealing the small treasure he’s cradling in his hands.

It takes Steve a moment to recognise it but when he does, his heart does a little flip.

   “Oh.”

He crouches down to get to Eddie’s level, can’t help but smile when his eyes catch the familiar drawings on the paper inlay peeking through the plastic case – the two bats in the centre, one with nails and one with wings; a heart in the top left corner with their initials in its middle, and a scatter of flowers to fill the empty space. Eddie’s handwriting at the top, ‘THIS IS MUSIC!’ screaming back at them in bold letters.

   “Of course, I kept it,” Steve finally says after clearing his throat, feeling oddly sentimental now. “I kept all of them. Everything.”

It’s true. Steve has kept every little piece of memorabilia he collected over the years. From the movie theatre ticket stub of their first unofficial date to the little note Eddie had left after spending the night at Steve’s for the first time. From the faded and wrinkled flyer of the first Corroded Coffin show Steve ever went to, to the mixtape in Eddie’s hands.

Maybe he should feel embarrassed about it, but instead of making fun of him for being such a sap, Eddie just smiles, eyes so full of love that Steve’s insides turn into a mushy, gooey mess.

   “This one’s my favourite,” he confesses, stroking a thumb over the case whose scratched surface shows all the signs of passing time and overuse.

   “It was all I listened to for weeks.”

He’s not even exaggerating, knows every song on the tape by heart from listening to it on repeat. Played the cassette so many times it’s a miracle it didn’t break, unwind or outright combust.

   “God, I remember how nervous I was to give it to you. So scared you’d hate it.”

Steve remembers, too, can see it so clearly before his mind’s eye.

After spending months in physical recovery – after Death had unsuccessfully tried to snuff out his life – Eddie had finally gotten the all clear from his doctors. ‘I’m as good as new,’ he’d announced when he entered the Harrington home, a six-pack of beer in one hand, joking about being ready to get drunk on his first sip after having been forced into abstinence for so long.

Eddie and Steve had become quite close during their time of healing, when everything kind of seemed on hold while Hawkins slowly came out of the state of shock it had been trapped in for months.

For the most part, people had thankfully remained unaware of the true horrors, eating up the highly dubious cover-up stories they’d been fed by the government. But Steve and Eddie and their little band of misfits had a lot of coping to do. Kept holding on to each other, finding strength in the support of their tightly knit circle of friends to deal with all the shit they’d been through together.

Despite everything, Steve would be lying if he said that he wished none of it ever happened because without it, he never would’ve learned what true happiness feels like. Would’ve never gotten to know Eddie the way he had after the almost-end of the world.

It was then, in their time of dealing with the aftermath of their final war against hell, something had started to sprout and bud inside of Steve.

Something that grew and kept growing until it was in full bloom, impossible to ignore anymore. Until, with a bang and a crisis and a lot of emotional support from Robin, Steve finally realised that what had blossomed over time, was actually love. Love born out of trauma and friendship and trust and survival.

They hadn’t talked about it then, that day Eddie came to celebrate his newly recovered life with him. But even though his own feelings had yet to be formed into words to be spoken aloud, Steve had noticed a shift in Eddie’s demeanour over the course of their growing closeness. Had this lingering impression that maybe he wasn’t the only one having to deal with a riot of unsorted, confusing feelings.

He could sense how nervous Eddie was that day. Could feel the crackling tension between them when they were sitting side by side on the back porch, brushing fingers when passing their shared cigarette from one to the other.

    ‘Got something for you,’ Eddie had said after finishing his beer, cheeks red, eyes cast down to where his right hand kept playing with the pocket of his jean vest.

   ‘What is it?’ Steve had asked in return, sounding breathless for reasons unknown to him at the time.

That’s when Eddie retrieved a cassette from his pocket, a mixtape he said he’d made just for him, with songs that reminded Eddie of Steve and songs he wanted Steve to listen to because they meant something special to him. And all Steve could do was stare. Stare and wonder and hold his breath, scared of opening his mouth, of possibly saying something he’d regret. Not realising how long he must’ve stayed quiet. So long in fact, Eddie started to pull back the hand holding the tape.

   ‘It’s- it’s stupid. Sorry.’

After weeks of fighting himself, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. Couldn’t fight the urge anymore, the overwhelming need to break down the last remaining barrier that had kept him from finally telling Eddie the truth.

Only he didn’t say what he wanted him to know and instead, balled his fist in Eddie’s shirt to pull him in, crashing their lips together without warning. Kissing him in a way he’d hoped would be enough for Eddie to understand what he was trying to tell him. Pouring all his feelings into every press of lips, letting love spill from his tongue.

Love Eddie reciprocated in a way that was almost too much for Steve to handle – unashamed and unfiltered, confessing his feelings like it was the easiest thing to do.

That night, after Eddie had gone home, Steve lay in bed, not asleep but with his eyes closed, listening to the mixtape Eddie had made for him. Letting the music take him back to the moment in the Upside Down, brushing shoulders with the frazzled, doe-eyed man on the run – ‘Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?’ – laughing at himself for how clueless he’d been about so many things.

Steve has learned a lot since then. Not only about the seemingly endless list of things Eddie’s interested in but also, more importantly, he learned so much about himself.

   “Wanna listen to it while we ignore the mess and get to the good part of finally having an apartment to ourselves?” Eddie winks at him, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes telling Steve everything he needs to know.

   “You mean jumping into our new, giant bed so you can cuddle me until I fall asleep?”

   “Something like that, yeah.”

Tomorrow, Steve will be mad at himself for letting Eddie seduce him with his dorky charm, when he wakes up to the chaos of all the boxes still unpacked. And Eddie will be mopey as hell when he realises that they haven’t even recovered the coffee maker and cups from whatever cardboard prison they’re still stuck in.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when they’re kissing and touching each other to the sound of the music that means so much to both of them, memories locked in songs, every beat of drum a matching tune to their hearts’ rhythm. Sating their hunger for flesh and that deeper kind of love. Holding each other close in the comfort of their intimate bubble of you and me while Eddie – Van Halen, not Munson –  strums his guitar and sings along to the voice of Sammy Hagar, filling the background with a song that feels like it was written for them.

    How do I know when it’s love?

    I can’t tell you but it lasts forever.

    How does it feel when it’s love?

    It’s just something you feel together.

Later, when the music has long stopped and Steve allows sleep to slowly take a hold of him, he remembers the words and silently agrees. Love isn’t something that can be categorised into how or when or why. It’s something you just know is there because you can feel it in every part of your being. It’s something you can share through touch, and show through little things, and express with words – but even without all of that, there’s no doubt that their love, just like the song rightfully claims, is made to last forever.

It’s the essence of Steve’s existence, the one thing he can always hold on to, no matter what. This love for a man whose appreciation for life – after almost losing his fight against death – makes every day extra special. A man who constantly reminds him of how beautiful life is, and continues to make it so.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Ur Johnny alphabet… I ate it up. Pls tell me you’re planning on dropping the other half or even a nsfw alphabet??? Your characterization was so good!!!

SFW (O-Z) Alphabet -- Johnny Storm 🔥| Marvel Headcanon

Note to anon📨: So glad you enjoyed my A-N for Johnny! I have not done O-Z in a long time so I hope this is up to par 💌 Also I've never done a NSFW one but I'm highly considering doing it for Johnny and other maverl characters 👀 Hope you like this!! ❤️

Link to my Marvel masterlist 💌 A-N for Johnny here

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Considering Johnny is in the spotlight thanks to his superhero status, he might be a little reserved when you first start seeing each other. And beneath his dorky, charming nature, he's quite shy when it comes to expressing his feelings to someone he really liked. With you, you make it easy for him to be open and reveal things he otherwise would keep to himself that even Johnny was surprised at first. He didn't open his can of worms immediately, as he didn't want to spew his guts and have it backfire, but little by little with each date Jonny revealed himself to you. And each time, you fell more and more in love with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

With the Godly levels of heat in his veins, you'd think Johnny would be a short fuse--and maybe he was when he was younger. But as he got older he learned the importance of being patient and not letting anger get to him. Snapping over something that is an easy fix would not be helpful in the long run. Of course being in a stress-induced career field--like saving the world--there are times where Johnny's patience wears thin. He hides it well which he prides himself on whenever someone else decides to let their fuse blow.

In your relationship, Johnny never leads with anger when a situation arises. He cares about you so much and would hate to unintentionally hurt you because he let his emotions get to him. When something bothers one of you, you communicate and talk it out. He's really the most patient man you've been with.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Please, this man is a walking encyclopedia. He knows you better than you know you. Reed may have the IQ of a genius with a photographic memory, but Johnny does not forget a single thing you tell him. He remembers the embarrassing stories from your high school days. Who was the first celebrity posted on your walls. What movie you can watch over and over again and never tire. The song that reminds you of a late summer day when the sun sets over the horizon.

"Johnny where did you get this?" "That old antique shop off the corner of 57th street. The one we went to last month." "You remembered that? We were only there for maybe ten minutes." "Well I remember you picking this up with that look you always have when you want something. I had to make sure you had it."

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Oh gosh he can't pick one. There's too many--the day you met, your first date, your first kiss. When he said he loved you for the first time--he can go on and on. But if he had to choose a single moment in your relationship that is his favorite it had to be the night of the Baxter Gala. You were 10 minutes late, dressed to the nines, in a satin gown that had his mouth drooling and head spin. You two got a little tipsy, danced until your feet hurt, gossiped about the pretentious executives in attendance from the bar and laughed under the stars when you snuck away to the terrace to get away from the fancy ordeal.

"Baby, have I mentioned how mesmerizing you look tonight?" "Once or twice, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again, pretty boy." "Call me that again, and we're going to have to leave this party early."

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

This man is a superhero, it is in his nature to be protective. Even if there is no present threat Johnny is on high alert. In public gatherings he's always got a close eye on you and sometimes will have a protective hand on your waist when conversing with people. He's also not one to keep his mouth shut if someone were to insult you. Johnny's pulling out all the witty comebacks to mentally and emotionally fuck up the person who dared hurt you. And you're not afraid to throw hands either. There have been times where Johnny is the one having to hold you back from breaking a douchebag's nose for threatening your man. (He finds it super hot).

Now say you happen to be in the crossfire when an adversary of the Fantastic Four makes an appearance. Johnny is exhausting all his energy into getting you the fuck out of there. Practically losing his mind while trying to also remain calm as to not freak you out further. "Okay, you're gonna hold onto me and you're not gonna let go. Okay?" "Okay--wait-wait-wait! Are you going to light up?! Johnny--is it even safe!" "We're about to find out. Just don't let go--close your eyes if you need." "Oh my God."

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Johnny does not do anything half-assed. He's pulling out all the stops to give you the best dates, the best anniversaries, the best gifts. He's making even the simplest tasks special. Like putting the right amount of sugar and cream in your tea/coffee. Or helping you take out the rollers in your hair so you can focus on finishing your makeup. Anything, no matter how little, Johnny is putting 110 and even more percent.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He bites his nail when he's anxious. It's been a bad habit of his since he was a kid and he does his best to stop but sometimes the nerves get so bad he doesn't realize he's doing it. When it gets to that you'll gently take his hand in yours and keep it in your lap, letting your own fingers draw patterns on his palm. He'll also forget to turn off the lights when he's in a hurry to leave in the morning and you have to drag yourself out of bed to do it yourself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He tries to hide it but you've caught him checking himself out in the mirror. Smoothing out his hair, adjusting his clothes. He knows he looks good and who can blame him really. When you do catch Johnny doing it you'll tease him with a light pat to his ass while saying, "Who are you trying to impress, blondie?" to which he'll catch you by the waist and unleash an attack of kisses along your neck, biting your earlobe while whispering, "the love of my life, that's who." Then of course when you two are headed to events and he stops one last time in the mirror you can't help but yell, "You're hot!! Now let's go before we never make it this thing."

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Johnny would be a mess without you. He can survive a couple days when he's on a mission or you're having to leave the city for work, but he'll be miserable. He's counting down the hours until you're together again and he's so pouty that Sue, Reed, or Ben is having to be like, "You'll see them soon, Johnny. Now we need you to focus because otherwise we're going to have more problems than what we want."

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Not many people know this, but Johnny loves to dance. Whether it's in the comfort of your home, at a gala/benefit, or at a jazz club, Johnny loves to hold you in his arms and sway you to the beat of the music. He'll put on a record, pull you from the couch and you'll spend hours exchanging soft kisses while letting your bodies move together in a gentle rhythm. And when the vibes are a more upbeat, Johnny knows how to get down with the Twist and Jive.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Something Johnny cannot stand is being lied to or having secrets kept from him. Whether it's in a relationship or having to deal with work, Johnny expects 100% trust and will have it be a deal-breaker. He hates when the team tries to keep certain things from him, and he'd hate for his partner to do the same--not matter how small it is. If they can't trust him, how can they expect him to trust them?

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

This man does not know how to keep still when he's asleep. He tosses and turns and will wake up with half the covers off. Sometimes he'll be curled up to your side or literally on top of you. At least some part of his body has to be touching you. Your leg on his, your pinkies interlaced, or his hand just above your ass. Sometimes it can be a little overwhelming--especially in the summertime since he's so damn hot--but at least he doesn't snore.