#realized that for me they each need their own space

[yapileon]

@TacklersCulers: The Chaotic Teen Serie pt. 3

fcb femení x chaoticteen!reader pt. 1 — pt. 2 2670w, it's kinda angsty, be warned<3 r gets nicknamed: "Diablilla" aka little devil in spanish as an endearment term "Skrulla" aka goofball/silly in norwegian for a mischievous child

17yo La Masia defender gets promoted to the first team. Will you be able to keep your fcb femení fan account hidden while slowly making your place in the team with your idols?

You lean your head back against the metal locker, a smug smirk tugging at your lips. Your eyes meet Pina's and you can't help but choke back a snort. 

You had called the forward in the morning, asking her to come pick you up since you wouldn't be able to walk to training like you had done for the past years. 

"You owe it to me after that whole mess you started about my phone wallpaper yesterday," you huffed. While you weren't actually mad at Pina, you were sure as hell going to milk every favor you could out of her. 

"Sure," she agreed without even needing a reason. This team was a family. If you needed a ride and she could help you out, she would do it, no questions asked. 

“Do you have space in the trunk for…” you trailed off, unsure if you could trust her now. If she said no, then your plan would fail.

“Sí, Diablilla, now tell me the plan,” you could hear her chuckle through the phone like she had read your thoughts. And just like that, you became partners in crime.

The both of you arrived at the training centre giggling like children, clutching at each other's arms from how much you were laughing. You had underestimated how mischievous Pina could be for a good joke. Coming up with an ever better plan than the original, you both go straight to work. 

The locker room is slowly filling, everyone realizing what you had done, most people figuring out Pina was in on it too with the glances you kept exchanging. Hushed whispers were heard around the room, everyone waiting for Mapi to come in. Pina had a phone propped up to capture it all.

You were doom scrolling your fan account, posting some more memes when the door opened again. You knew she had to arrive soon, almost everyone else was here already. 

Silence. 

You looked up to see Mapi walking in, smiling and in a good mood like usual, with Ingrid trailing behind. You bite your jersey to hide a smile you can’t camouflage. 

Mapi stood frozen, looking at her locker. Something was occupying her chair. The cardboard cutout of her doing her lion pose you owned. Fake Mapi was flexing and showing her teeth like an animal ready to fight. She burst out laughing, wheezing and letting herself fall on a chair. 

It was the cue for the whole team to explode. Pina’s voice shot up, barely hearable over the laughing. “Say hi for Instagram, Mapi!” she was moving around so much you were sure the video wouldn’t even be good.

Alexia had been standing on the side of the room, an eyebrow raised, “Of course it’s you two.” she spoke, shaking her head disapprovingly. But even serious Alexia couldn’t hold back a smile. 

“I gotta admit kid, I didn’t think you’d actually bring it,” the centre back wheezed, wiping tears away from her eyes. 

The joyful energy was only made more electric by Ingrid, who leaned into the joke. Ingrid looked alternatively between Mapi sitting on the chair and the cardboard. She posed, mimicking being deep in thoughts. 

"Mmh, which one is my girlfriend?" she had said, grinning. 

“Pina! Get this on the video!” you shouted, gesturing to whatever was about to happen, the woman happily nodded. 

She slid down next to the cardboard, throwing her arm around the fake Mapi "This one!" she exclaimed, sending everyone toppling over.

Mapi gave her a shocked look, still laughing. "Oh I see how it goes, everyone prefers that pale copy now" she feigned annoyance. Ingrid kissed the cheek of the cardboard while Mapi pouted, voice shaky as she added, “what does she have that I don’t?”

“This one doesn’t argue when I’m right.” Ingrid answered, the Norwegian might have become your favourite person in the world right now. The look on the Spaniard’s face was priceless, you could have rolled on the floor.

"El León stole the spotlight!" it was Jana who had chimed in. She was next to Pina and Patri, all three of them waving for you to get closer. You jumped to their side, hovering over Jana’s shoulder to look at the phone. 

They had posted the video seconds ago on the main Barcelona account and it was already shaking up the internet. As the team calmed down and finished getting ready, thousands of comments popped up, requesting more videos. So the four of you obliged. 

You posed Mapi and the cutout next to each other taking a picture and doing a poll in the story, which read “Which is the better Mapi?” You knew social media, you knew how to bring in numbers. 

Jana and Patri took the fake Mapi to the field while Pina and you ran to get some footballs. Both of you laughed when the cardboard had deflected a shot, still careful to keep it intact as you wanted to bring it back home safely. You all screamed “AND SHE DOES IT AGAIN, SAVING THE DAY!” zooming on it and then on Mapi, who watched with the biggest smile on her face. Mapi grabbed the phone to take selfies with the cutout. Everything was posted on the account, this would be the first thing fans ever got to see from you, and you weren’t disappointed. This was a masterpiece of an introduction to the world. 

In this moment, the bond that you had with this team felt invincible. Feeling more alive than you ever had previously. For some minutes, before Pina had arrived to pick you up, you had doubted. Maybe they wouldn’t find it funny, maybe it would make them realize how childish you really were. But even the older, more mature players had laughed at your banter. Pina had treated you like a little sister, Mapi and Ingrid played along. There was a warmth in their teasing that made you feel at home. 

So much so that you didn’t even try to argue with Alexia when she clapped, asking for everyone’s attention. “Everybody calm down, training now, chaos later.” she said firmly. 

When she saw you grinning, she approached, “Yes even you, Diablilla” she joked, ruffling your hair. “Show us what you can do, besides being a trickster.”

So you hopped off, starting to stretch, warming up your muscles. This left you some time to reflect on the whole situation. You inhaled deeply. The first training session that you had had with the team had gone well, but you were aware it was a chill one, to ease you in the team. Pere had warned you today would be “intense”, as he had said exactly. You felt ready for what they were about to throw at you. You could feel yourself getting more focused, though you were still up for a good joke if the opportunity was there. The team was currently doing sprints to activate their body before doing drills and scrimmages. 

Caro groaned after the last set, “Why do we even do this?” She was clutching her sides, trying to find her breath again.

‘So we can outrun the refs when they try to card us.” you mumbled, sprints weren’t your favorite exercise either. 

Except it seemed you did not say this as low as you intended. You looked up to see most of the team staring at you. Most veterans seemed shocked, the younger players not so much. In the corner of your eyes you could see Jana and Salma holding in a chuckle. 

“What?” you remarked, in disbelief, blush creeping onto your cheeks. Alright, it’s true that it wasn’t very smart of you to admit you were prone to getting cards so much you had to learn how to run away from the refs. 

“Dios mío!” Alexia exclaimed, putting her hand on her forehead, “Irene! You’re going to teach Cariño how to behave, sí?” she added with a sigh. 

“Not fair! Why is Caro even complaining,” you were interrupted by Irene trying to drag you away, but you persisted, “like she didn’t run at 32 km/h during the 2023 world cup?” you grumbled. 

Caro raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a proud expression. “You’re a fan now? I thought you only liked defenders.” she replied, voice full of playfulness. 

“I keep myself updated on statistics.” you attempted to say, trailing off knowing the team would, once again, never let you live that down. 

Salma came up next to you, “So you know statistics on everyone here?” she smirked, barking out a laugh when your eyes widened in horror. 

“Sorry! Can’t hear you I’m too far away getting ready for the drills,” you walked off with Irene, miming not being able to hear. 

“This isn’t over Diablilla!” screamed Vicky, “we’ll get all your fangirl secrets out of you later.” 

Oh, Vicky, if only you knew. 

As you made your way next to the other defenders, you let out a breath. Determination taking over your cheeky eyes, you touched the tip of both of your boots with your fingers. The last of your rituals, this meant the game was on. 

You threw yourself in all the tasks the coach had you do. While your inexperience showed on certain drills, your will to do well still pleased the team. In some ways, having spent so many years studying everything about that team helped you on the pitch. You could guess where Alexia would try to do a backward pass, or where Aitana’s ball control might be more problematic to intercept. You tried your best to mirror Mapi, bending your knee lows, trying to push attackers on the side you wanted. An interception you made earned you a wide grin from Mapi while Ingrid had her thumbs up toward the sky to congratulate you. A shy smile creeped on your lips.

You were putting up a solid fight, having done a few successful tackles during a particularly difficult scrimmage. Maybe it’s how you ended up messing up so bad. The confidence rushed through you when you decided to slide tackle Caro. She was doing a solo run, and you were feeling mixed, split between not wanting to lose if she scored an equalizer and wanting praises from your teammates. It was childish, really. Almost shameful. You weren’t here to be praised, you were here to work. But she was running, and you were shoulder to shoulder with her. It felt like the right timing, so you slid. The adrenaline rush was so strong that you didn’t use your brain enough. You knew she was a master at feints, but still for a second you thought you had it. 

You sensed the wet grass brushing against your skin, until the grass was replaced with a training cone you collided with. You froze, your whole body burning, watching in horror as Caro continued her run, chipping the ball over Cata, making her team come up to 2-2. And that was your fault, if you had accessed the situation for longer, you wouldn’t have dived head first into an unnecessary tackle.

Ingrid jogged over to you, “You alright, Skrulla?” reaching her hands to help you stand up. If your ears weren’t ringing so bad from the shame and confusion, you would have asked the Norwegian what it meant. 

You shrugged, wiping the grass from your shorts in embarrassment. 

You knew you didn’t do a good job hiding it when the green eyed woman added, “At least it wasn’t my back this time?” She was smiling brightly at you, so you forced out a laugh, the emotions stuck in your throat. 

You shook your head, going back into position. Any positive feeling from your earlier exploit long gone. You tried to brush it off, but you were so frustrated with yourself and still had half the session to go through. So you pushed yourself more, hoping to erase the bad memory. 

It didn’t work though. By the time training finished, you were exhausted. Letting yourself flop on the ground, you clutched at your chest in pain. Little by little your abilities on the pitch had faded away, each pass connecting less and less, your timing getting worse. Everyone could see it, and some of your teammates gave you questioning looks. You couldn’t deal with the attention on you, so you jumped up and made a beeline for the lockers. 

You showered quicker than you thought possible, but by the time you were done, multiples of your teammates were around you. The buzzing of the room annoyed you more than it ever had previously. 

You look up to see Ingrid and Mapi whispering, throwing glances at you. So, like the child you are, you grabbed your cardboard cutout and fled. Waving off a very confused Pina who thought she’d drive you back home. 

As you walk, you can’t help but feel increasingly stupid. You know you shouldn't be nearly as bothered with that tackle as you currently were. It was so stupid. But it was so badly timed and you were ashamed about it. Sure your teammates were nice to you, and you all laughed together, but with that awful move you had just pulled? There was no way they'd ever trust you on the field. How could they trust you if you couldn't even slide tackle an opponent? Why would Pere give you any minutes if you messed up so bad when there was no pressure on you. 

By the time you reached your dorm, you could feel tears rolling down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them with your sleeve, throwing yourself on your bed.  

That was the down side of your brain. The obsession over football, that one singular process who made you apart from other players but was also your downfall. The way you’d obsess over every single one of your flaws, needing to perfect them all. Needing to have as much information on players. You’d drive yourself crazy and sleep deprived watching footage until the birds would sing outside, signaling you it was early morning. It wasn’t healthy. But it was all you knew.

You had grown up with coaches who had screamed at you that the difference between an amateur and a pro was when they stopped their drills. An amateur does it right once and stops, a pro keeps going until they can’t get it wrong. So you just kept pushing. In some way, you hoped your brain would ease off having finally made the first team. It hadn’t.

You rolled over, looking at the fake Mapi, still deep in thoughts. Your eye caught sight of a black mark on it, making you jump in a hurry. Had you damaged it while walking back home? Or when Pina and you were using it for shooting practice? Frowning, you leaned closer trying to figure out what had happened. 

You gasped when you saw it.

You have the potential to be one of the greatest.

— Mapi 

You let the tip of your fingers brush over the writing. Your idol hadn’t only signed the cardboard without you even asking, she had written this. You felt a tug at your heartstring, and promised yourself to thank her profusely tomorrow. 

For now, the only thing you could do was calm down. You inhaled deeply, feeling the rise of your ribcage, and exhaled softly, trying to release any tensions in your body. Maybe it was fine, maybe nobody would be mad at you, maybe you’d be able to fix it during the next training. 

You needed a distraction, so you pulled out your phone to check the latest post from your fan account.

TacklerCulers

tacklerculers: Did you know? Attackers that trip in front of Mapi León are actually just nervous to be close to her.

barcafan11: @TacklersCulers Are you going to talk about the new signing we saw on the official barça page today?

alex1aa: I’m really disappointed, Barça does not need a clown.

b0nmat12: I hope she’s just a social media person and not a player, otherwise we’re doomed for the Champions League.

Your stomach twisted when you saw the comments. You threw the phone at the wall and buried yourself into the blanket on your bed. The weight of failure still crushing your chest.

[wxwrites]

Issues

(pitfighter!vi x reader, f!reader, fluff & light angst)

(a little self indulgent because i wish cait apologized properly)

you and vi get into a fight at the warehouse she fights in, chaos ensues, and you find yourselves locked in a storage closet. apologies and reconciliation come about as you pour your love and feelings into each other.

“No, Violet, I really just don’t fucking understand it!” you snap, storming through the hallways of the abandoned warehouse. Vi is following behind you, equally just as angry, the sound of her boots clanking across the cement floors. 

“Of course you don’t! It’s not like you’ve even tried to!” she exclaims, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. You stop in your tracks as soon as the words leave her mouth, causing her to bump into your back. You step forward briefly before whipping around to glare at her.

“Me? You’ve been shit-faced all day! How can you say that I’m not trying?” you ask, voice cracking as the anger continues to build inside of you. She scoffs and rolls her eyes at your comment, pushing her way past you, knocking into your shoulder on the way. 

You sigh and concede, following in step behind her. There’s a loud cry from the other end of the hallway, and then a stampede of footsteps following. As they funnel towards both of you, roars and chants pound through the space. She yanks you into a nearby storage closet, slamming the door behind you.

“What the fuck?” you gasp, coughing as your back hits the door. You both hear crashes and loud clamors as the crowd moves down the hallway, items and furniture slamming around. “What’s happening?” You yell over the thundering voices and the bangs against the door. She shakes her head and shrugs, “New champion, maybe?” she suggests, raising her voice over the commotion; but otherwise looks clueless. 

You huff angrily for the next ten… twenty minutes? You’re not sure, but you realize that by the end of it, you’re both sitting on the ground, and she’s drunkenly slumped onto your shoulder. You want to shrug her off, wake her up, do anything to get rid of her infuriating touch. But it’s hard. It’s hard when she looks so peaceful as she sleeps. It’s hard when you know that being asleep is the only time she isn’t plagued by her devastating insecurities.

Eventually, the weight becomes too much to bear on your already sore shoulders. You stroke her hair gently and coax her out of her slumber with a quiet “Vi, Vi, c’mon,” speaking like a broken record. She groans and pulls off of your shoulder, shaking the blurriness out of her eyes. “Are you okay?” you ask gently, reaching down to cup her cheek and tilt her head back slightly, giving you a better look at her disheveled state. 

“Violet,” you say firmly, stroking your thumb over her cheek. She hums out quietly, chasing the feeling of your palm. “Yeah, yeah ‘m good,” she mumbles, pressing a sloppy kiss to your palm, smearing the runny black makeup into your hand. 

You smile warmly at the affection, the previous fight almost completely forgotten. You sigh deeply as you straighten her up, bracing your hands on her shoulders. “We need to get home,” you mumble, thumbing over the runny black streaks on her face. She sniffs quietly and nods, allowing you to pull her up to her feet. She stumbles slightly, pressing her hands to your shoulders as she stabilizes herself. 

You reach for the door handle and turn it, attempting to push through. The rickety door refuses to budge, causing you to huff out in frustration. She notices your frustration and gently pulls you away, taking her own shot at forcing the door open. Her attempts are futile as it remains cemented shut. She crashes her body into it, attempting to brute-force her way through, and ultimately fails. 

“Vi, c’mon, it’s not gonna move,” you state, gently tugging her back by her bicep. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” the words ring through her ears, causing her to back off and away from the door. 

“Must’ve destroyed the place earlier, ” she comments, words stringing together a little more coherently this time. 

You nod quietly, letting out a tired sigh as you slump back onto the floor. She settles on the rough ground next to you, your arms brushing together. 

You sit in a tense silence, both wanting to address the argument, but neither wanting to deal with the onslaught of emotions. 

Minutes pass before Vi finally opens her mouth, sucking in a deep breath first, before; “I’m sorry… about earlier,” she mutters, picking at the skin surrounding her fingernails. 

You reach out and lovingly grab her hand, pulling it away from the self destructive action. As you rub your fingers over hers gently, you mumble back, “I just hate when you get like this, y’know… l-like you get so cold and distant,” you stammer.

She sighs deeply and nods her head, running a frustrated hand over her face. “I know, IーI don’t have an excuse or a reason,” she says, and you don’t miss the frustrated tone. Vi finally turns her head so that she can meet your eyes, frowning slightly.

“...and I’m also sorry,” you reply after a beat, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier,” you say, pulling her hand up to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. 

She shakes her head, “No, no, I was being an asshole and you really didn’t deserve it,” she deflects, causing you to frown. “That doesn’t give me the right to snap at you like that, I should’ve just walked away first. Or.. or at least said something before it got to that point,” you reply, leaning forward to press your foreheads together. 

You reach up to cup her cheek gently, swiping your thumb through some of the remaining black ink. “We really need to work on this, okay? We can’t keep fighting, my love,” you say firmly, but there’s an unmistakable tone of gentleness and adoration in your voice. 

She nods immediately and sniffles, causing you to notice the stray tears that have rolled down her cheeks. You give her a sweet smile as you wipe them away tenderly, pressing your lips beneath her eyes, and onto her nose. She lets out a quiet, almost inaudible chuckle as your eyelashes flutter against her skin. 

“You’re too sweet for me, angel,” she mutters, catching your lips with hers. You grin against her mouth, stroking your hand through her hair. She wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you into her lap, enveloping you in a tight embrace. She inhales deeply, relishing in your comforting and affectionate presence.

“I love you so much,” she mumbles, pressing a few fleeting kisses to your collarbones. You wrap one arm around her neck and use your other hand to push her bangs back, caressing her forehead with your lips tenderly. “I love you more than words could ever say,” you respond, giving her another soft smile.

[sixerstanley]

Sealed With a Kiss - Teen Stancest ficlet

Hey all! I'm here with a bit of an appetizer, if you will, for a fic I've been thinking about for a while. The stans are 16/17 in this. Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think as I still have to work on the entire fic.

After Carla criticizes Stan's kissing, Ford offers to help him practice.

~~~~~~

“Ya sure ya still wanna do this, Sixer?”

Truthfully, Ford feels like he’s about to pass out—either that or puke. He isn’t used to this, isn’t used to sitting so close to Stan, not like this—not with him on Stan’s bottom bunk sitting cross-legged and Stan inches apart, their feet touching, and Moses, Ford can feel Stan’s breaths as he glances at his lips—

“Ford?”

He drags his gaze from Stan’s lips, back up to his eyes. They’re blown wide with…something, but Ford can’t exactly tell what.

“Uh…s-sorry,” he stumbles out, trying to shake himself out of it. “We can—we can still—”

A hand touches him gently, stopping the words from coming out of his mouth. Ford looks down at Stan’s hand intertwining with his own.

They fit perfectly, like they always did.

“Hey,” Stan says, voice quiet and serious, which is a bit odd to hear from him. “If you’re having second thoughts—”

“No,” Ford blurts out immediately. Stan's eyes grow a bit wider and he realizes his mistake, feeling his face burn up. 

“Uh…I just mean…” he trails off before taking a deep breath. He looks directly back at Stan with a newfound determination. 

“It’ll be a good thing for both of us. We can practice with each other and get ready for the real thing.”

Stan stares at him for a moment, Ford watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

It’s hypnotizing.

Then Stan is nodding. “Yeah. Sure, yeah. That makes a lotta sense.” He glances down at Ford’s lips for a split second, and Ford is really starting to question if he’s going to be able to do this without blowing his cover. “But to be fair, it’s not like I ain’t got the experience,” Stan says lowly, a teasing tilt to it.

Ford rolls his eyes. “Sure, but Carla still complained about it.”

“Hey. Watch it. At least I don’t need a robot.”

“You said you weren’t going to bring that up.”

“I say a lot of things.”

“Hey,” Ford starts, a significant weight to his words. “Are you sure you still want to do this? We don’t have to.”

Stan swallows again glancing down at Ford’s lips briefly. He tries not to stare at his throat again.

He fails.

“Nah,” Stan eventually drawls, although there’s an unusual bit of shakiness to it. “Like ya said, this will only make us better at it, y’know? It was a good idea of yours.”

An idea I had with no ulterior motives whatsoever, a small voice inside Ford’s head says. He internally tells it to shut up.

There’s a moment of silence before Stan leans in closer to Ford’s space. He feels his heartbeat start to increase like crazy, and he attempts to steady his breath. 

Stan places both of his hands on either side of Ford on the bed, crowding him. 

This is how I die. A heart attack from kissing my own twin brother.

“C’mon, Poindexter,” Stan murmurs, his voice soft and barely louder than a whisper. It sends shivers down Ford’s spine. “Show me what ya got.”

Now it’s Ford’s turn to swallow. 

He inhales deeply before he moves his shaky hands towards Stan’s face, cradling his jaw with his fingers at the back of his head.

He tries not to think about how good this feels so far even though they haven’t even started, tries not to think about how right it feels to be touching Stan like this, but it’s wrong, he shouldn’t feel like this, he shouldn’t feel this way about his own brother, he’s nothing but a disgusting little freak—

“Hey,” Stan’s voice interrupts the foggy cloud of thoughts in his head. It’s soothing, and calming in a comforting, familiar way. 

“Hey, hey,” Stan says again, moving one of his hands to Ford’s side, holding him. Ford tries not to jump at the sudden touch. “Relax,” Stan croons, lifting his other hand to Ford’s cheek.

And it really should be bad how grounding that is. How, at this moment, it truly feels like it’s just the two of them in the entire world.

“Relax,” Stan whispers this time, stroking Ford’s cheek with his thumb, and what can he possibly do other than positively melt under his touch?

He gazes directly into Stan’s dark eyes, and immediately, Ford knows this is it. This is the last moment he has to back out, to say no to this, and call it off without any permanent damage. 

This is the last moment he has before he finds out how Stanley kisses.

Every rational part of his mind is screaming at him, telling him to turn back now, but he realizes this could be his only chance to kiss the person he’s been in love with his entire life.

Any last bit of his resolve absolutely crumbles when Stan licks his lips, making them shiny and wet, and Ford leans in, finally pressing his lips to Stan’s.

He’s hesitant at first, not too sure what to do, but then Stan’s arms fully wrap around him, around his body, and his lips part a little bit and oh.

Ford can’t even bring it within himself to feel embarrassed about the small little whine that escapes him when Stan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip, he needs more, he needs more, he needs Stan—

Their bodies draw closer together than ever, and Stan starts to press his weight against Ford as he lays down on the bed and just lets himself be kissed by his brother. 

This is wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this, a small voice in Ford’s head says.

But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t fucking care—he’s laying down with Stan’s sturdy body on top of him, and Ford does not care about right or wrong at this moment.

All he cares about is making sure that this never ends.

Ford opens up more for Stan, deciding to mimic the move he made earlier, a giddy feeling rising within him when he hears Stan groan in return. He wants to keep doing that, keep drawing noises out of Stan that he’d only been able to fantasize about before this.

Now that he has the real thing, he’ll never want to let go.

And that’s the real danger of it all, isn’t it? That this is supposed to be nothing but practice. Something to help the both of them when it comes to other people.

It would be selfish of him to keep these pseudo-lessons going. Stan is with Carla, and even if they break up, Stan is going to find someone else, because he always does, he’s Stan.

It would be wrong to continue this purely because of his own desires. 

Stan pulls apart from him, both of them breathing heavily. He looks down at Ford, hovering over him, and wow having Stan on top of him is going to fuel his dreams for decades to come.

“Was that…was that okay?” Stan asks, gently petting Ford’s hair with one hand, looking down at his lips again.

He should say something. He should stop this.

He needs to stop this.

But looking up at Stan like this, with his eyes blown wide open with what he can pretend is desire…Ford thinks he can be a little selfish. 

At least for a little while.

He’ll let himself have this for a bit, let himself know how Stan feels against him, how he tastes, how he sounds when he’s overwhelmed by pleasure.

Ford will memorize it if he has to. He knows he will. 

After all, Stan is going to end up with someone else. Someone who isn’t him.

Shouldn’t he be able to enjoy himself while it lasts?

“Sixer?”

Ford raises a hand to Stan’s face, cusping it gently. 

“I think we need a bit more practice.”

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Knowing a change of scenery was what your mental health needed, you transferred to where your brother, Mark, goes to college. The good news is, he’s not too cool for his younger sister, so he lets you join his friend group immediately. The bad news is, Haechan is in that friend group, and a brief encounter four years ago was enough for you to understand he does NOT like you. Even worse news, he’s a lot hotter than he was four years ago…

Chapter Fifteen: I'll just ask Mark - four images, 1.5k words - heads up, this chapter deals more with y/n's mental health than previous ones

You were thankful you didn’t have any classes for the rest of the day, because time slipped right by you while at lunch with Haechan. The two of you got sandwiches and coffee from the library café, but when you quickly realized all the tables were taken, you ended up bringing the food back to Haechan’s apartment just a short walk away. This is where time started flying past. The two of you turned on an old cartoon show to watch while you ate, but once you were finished, your own voices quickly overtook the sound of the television.

It was a strange truth to find out - that you and Haechan actually got along swimmingly, taking to each other like a duck to water. Of course, up until the last week or so, the majority of your time knowing each other was spent either ignoring one another or exemplifying passive aggression; so your ability to actually carry a conversation for hours was a very new concept, but one you could hardly take the time to question when you were too busy laughing until you couldn’t breathe.

Haechan was the first to calm down after the last bout of laughter shared in the living room, and he leaned his head against the front of the couch - the two of you opted to sit on the floor as you ate since there was no coffee table to place everything on; not to mention the couch wasn’t that comfortable in the first place.

He rolled his head to the side so he could look at you, your eyes squeezed shut as you bite on your bottom lip to try and stop more laughs from leaving your system. He let a soft grin come across his face as he took in your presence, and the fact that he was happy here with you. “Remind me to thank Mark for convincing you to transfer,” he says gratefully, traces of a laugh still tainting his light voice. Though, all at once, your body stills, and you open your eyes to meet his soft gaze before swiftly bringing your focus to where you had begun messing with your fingers in your lap.

“Oh. It wasn’t really- he didn’t convince me, so to speak. I had to transfer.” You fumble through your words, embarrassment tinging your cheeks a shade of pink.

Haechan furrowed his brows at you. “What do you mean?” He asks curiously, and you can’t help the heavy sigh that escapes you.

You stop fidgeting, but you can’t bring your gaze up from your lap as you respond smoothly. “I was really, badly depressed. Not to mention half the student body at SM used to actually bully me," you recall with a scoff.

“At the end of the day, I just wanted my brother closer than thirty minutes away from me. Helped me feel less alone, or at least helped me not make rash decisions, I mean- I hated myself. Wasn’t sure I was anything but a waste of space, honestly; and the idea of going to my brother to be talked down felt better than going to my friends, cause I always thought they would leave me if all I did was come to them with struggles. My brother can’t leave, he’s stuck with me. Though most of the time, that doesn’t really make it any easier - it’s still putting so much responsibility on Mark, when he’s probably the last person who needs any more added to his plate. Regardless, he does his best - and only partly because he's forced to," you say with a weak laugh before continuing softly.

"In transferring here, my parents made him promise that he wouldn’t allow me to throw myself into oncoming traffic, or maybe it was off a bridge. I don’t know. Something stupid but-”

You cut yourself off when you hear what you think is a sniffle from beside you. You whip your head over to look and get confirmation that he’s actually crying. “Haechan?” You get out worriedly, your brows furrowing as you take in his wide watery eyes and small trembles. You reach out to wipe away at the tears racing down his face, and he just shakes his head against your hold.

“Don’t leave. Don’t you ever dare leave,” he manages to get out somewhat firmly. Your lips form a tight smile at his care and you shake your head, trying to dispel his worries.

“I’m not-” You start, but he cuts you off and you’re sure it’s because he doesn’t quite believe you…not that you could blame him.

He moves from sitting flat on the ground to instead lean over and engulf you in a hug, made awkward by the fact that he was practically just ramming his body into your side. You didn’t care, you wrapped your arms around him the best you could as he gets out choked words. “I need you. Here. I need you here,” he hiccups, and you break.

“Haechan…it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you say, trying your best not to cry now, too as you begin to rub a hand up and down his back.

You feel a light poke at your side and glance down to see his pinkie outstretched. You look back up to face him in confusion, but his eyes are still directed towards the floor, not to mention squeezed shut. “P-promise,” he gets out weakly. With the tears staining his face, the shaking of his body, and his choked words, you knew you never wanted to see Haechan like this ever again. So, without truly realizing how much this pinky promise was going to mean to him, you lace your finger with his and watch as the smallest wave of relief crashes over him.

He falls more decidedly against you, and you hold him there tightly, running your fingers gently across his clothes and through his hair. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, but you know you didn’t let up from the hug until he was completely rid of tears. Though, when you lift your arms up and allow him to sit back upright, he doesn’t, and a small smile crosses your face as you gently place your arms back around his figure.

You hadn’t seen him look this small ever before, and the fact that he was being this emotional and vulnerable with you was making warmth spread through your entire body. You only hoped it could transfer through the hug you had him in, figuring he probably needed it more right now - for some reason, it couldn't click that he was crying over you, that he was currently concerned about making sure you felt comforted and cared for...though that quickly changes with his next words.

“I’m sorry I was a dick to you earlier,” he finally says with resolve. You move to shake your head and dismiss it, but he presses on. “I treated you poorly for no reason, and I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is remind you of someone from your old school. I’ll do better. I promise all I’ll ever try to do is put a smile on your face, but if it’s ever not genuine, I need you to know that you can come to me, confide in me, whatever. Your heavy feelings aren’t going to scare me away. You don’t need to ever pretend around me, and if I’m the only person who has made that clear, then so be it, I’ll be your rock.”

He finally moves as he says this so that he can make eye contact with you, unfortunate because you had finally started crying at his words. “It’s so hard,” you squeak out. “With my family, I mean - I just want to be a good daughter- a good sister. They don’t deserve all that stress of my mental health. I- I broke my family’s heart telling them how I thought of myself…the point I was reaching. I don’t ever want to worry them like that again.” As you finish, your attention is turned towards where Haechan lightly grabbed your hand in his.

“You broke mine, too, but you need to understand that I’ll let you break it over and over again if it means you aren’t going through this alone.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone and it sends even more tears racing down your cheeks. He sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe gently under your eyes. “Y/n,” he says, his voice soft but filled with intent.

You nod your head, knowing what he was looking for - any confirmation that you were actually taking in his words. “Thank you,” you say weakly, causing a corner of Haechan’s mouth to perk up in a soft grin.

His hand that was previously at your cheek moves up to eventually run back down through your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. “Do you wanna watch The Aristocats?” He asks gently.

Your wide eyes meet his. “You’d watch it with me again?” You respond in awe.

Haechan lets out a small laugh, turning his gaze to the floor before shaking his head and looking in your teary eyes again. “You said it’s your comfort movie…I’d watch it a thousand times.”

[previous] -> [masterlist] -> [next]

a/n: yuhhhh

Taglist: @fullsunstrawberry @choizzn @raevyng @dudekiss3r @yewshi @artsenthusiastk77 @injunnie-lemon @markeroolee @chan-yeoldelling @sunflowerhae @mystverse @urlovelily @luvandletter @jeonghansshitester @dinonuguaegi @untilthesunrises @clean-soap @andassortedkpop @dlin3 @roseangelxfuma @gomdoleemyson @simmsunshine @swanyvess @awktwurtle @t-102 @kukkurookkoo

@hahaechans @ypoom151999 @goldenclosethobi

[genderqueerdykes]

genuine question about some identities

why do you think theres so much hate for people who are afab/amab and are also trans women/men, those who are cistrans and multigender people?

ive noticed that when you tell certain queer people you'd think wouldn't be exclusionist that your gender is funky and you're trans bc of it, they begin to use your assigned sex and your biology against you because "you can't be a trans woman if you have a uterus, ur just feminine".

its the same argument as conservatives make it. why is there so much hate?

ppl don't acknowledge my individual genders but instead see how they work alongside each other. ppl don't see me as a trans woman when my gender is woman but will acknowledge me as a trans man because of my sex traits.

these are some very important questions to ask, i appreciate you for sending this ask

i honestly think more people are becoming indoctrinated into transmedicalist and gender critical thinking without realizing it, and it's becoming dangerous. people want to inherently label an afab transfem and/or an amab transmasc as liars, people who are spitting in the faces of others, and shouldn't be a part of our community. other people make assumptions about others' experiences based on their own and don't understand that there is an entire world outside of their perspective, and that world is full of experiences they have no hope of understanding, but can simply accept.

i've gotten a lot of questions about whether afab trans women and amab trans men can exist, it's definitely a hot button issue right now, and i agree with you. if you ask me, afab trans women and amab trans men deserve to have a platform to speak from. if someone genuinely believes their identity is trans no matter what their AGAB is- who the hell am i to stop them? it's important for afab trans women and amab trans men to not speak over their other siblings and try to speak for what it's like to be intersex or an amab trans woman/afab trans man. but that doesn't mean that these people can't exist- they deserve the right to talk about their experience, because it exists alongside the experiences of amab trans women and afab trans men. they're not fighting with each other, they're unique experiences that belong under the same umbrella.

at the end of the day, someone standing there being an afab trans woman, an amab trans man, or a cistrans person is not hurting anyone. the identity itself will hurt no one. ignorance about what other trans people experience is dangerous, and so is speaking over others, but these identities in and of themselves are not harming anyone. it is very possible to go "i don't understand how that works, but if that is how they identify, then i will respect that."

between people becoming indoctrinated into radical feminism and people who are proudly adopting gender critical politics, there is a schism in our communities that don't need to be there. people think they need to "weed out the fakes" in order for us to be accepted by cishet society, which is just not how any of this works. we can't cast aside the queers who are "too weird" or "not really queer" in order to try to make the rest of the community look legitimate

this community has always been here for people whose identities don't line up with the cisheteronormative binary. it doesn't matter what someone's AGAB is- i mean, isn't that the point of the trans community? are we not the "i don't give a shit about your AGAB, i want to know who you really are" community? it's become honestly scary to see how focused the queer community has become on AGAB. people are utterly obsessed with trying to figure out the AGABs of strangers in order to deny them access to queer spaces or kick them out of spaces they rightfully belong in

and it bothers me deeply that people police the identities of multigender people beyond belief. it's like having 1 trans identity is okay but if you dare to have more than one, you're not really queer or whatever. cistrans people, multigender people who are cis, trans wo/men who consider both their manhood and womanhood trans no matter what their AGAB is, transfemmasc/transmascfem people... these identities belong and yet people proudly and gladly wake up every day to do conservatives' jobs for them.

whenever you police another queer person's identity, no matter what your intention is, good, bad or something else- you are doing conservatives' jobs for them. you are not preserving our community. you are not keeping identities sacred or safe or whatever the hell. you're gladly sucking up to our oppressors and spreading their propaganda. it's disturbing how people don't realize this

thank you for taking the time to send this ask, i agree with you 100%. this behavior has gotten out of control and it's time for people to wake the fuck up and realize they've been indoctrinated into transmedicalism, radical feminism, and being gender critical. this isn't the "right" way to behave. it's antithetical to the very foundations of the queer community.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 12

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

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

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

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

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

NOAH

"Enough! I’m not playing with you!" I snapped through gritted teeth, looking around nervously, fearing someone else might see us. "We’re going inside now, and you’re going to put some clothes on before I have to force you!"

"For someone who’s been treating me like I don’t exist, you seem awfully concerned," she said, dragging out every word with exaggerated slowness, dripping with sarcasm.

I didn’t know my body could overheat like a volcano about to erupt until this cursed woman crossed my path. It was evident from the triumphant look on her face that making my life a living hell with her presence was her greatest mission on Earth. I had no doubt that was what tied her to the band.

Being here every day, driving me a little more insane for her amusement.

Every time a car passed and honked as the driver caught sight of her body, clad in nothing but a white lace bra and matching panties, I wanted to claw my eyes out. It was hard enough to focus on her mocking face when all I wanted was to savor the view that hadn’t been mine for a long time.

Everything was still perfectly in place, and damn it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this close to her exposed body. Her curves looked like they’d been painted with the finest brush, and at this distance, I could practically feel the texture of her skin and even catch her scent. I wasn’t the best at remembering things most of the time, but I never forgot anything about her.

"Let’s. Go. Inside. Now!" I said slowly, feeling another wave of fury boiling inside me as another car passed, honking and catching her attention.

"Don’t you dare come any closer!" she warned, pointing a finger at me, stepping back as she realized I was closing the distance between us. "Stay right there! Don’t move!"

"Or?" I tilted my head, matching her defiant tone. "That’s what I thought."

It only took one step to invade her space and lift her off the ground as if she weighed nothing, slinging her over my shoulder. Her screams and hysteria as we headed back to the studio didn’t faze me in the slightest, nor did her fists pounding against my back in an effort to free herself.

"PUT ME DOWN!" she yelled, kicking her legs and hitting my back harder. "PUT ME DOWN NOW, YOU IDIOT!"

Inside the studio, I tossed her onto the couch and pinned her down, immobilizing any movement by holding her wrists above her head. Her chest heaved erratically until our breaths became one, her darkened eyes locked on mine.

"Damn the day you crossed my path, you cursed girl!" I growled, tightening my grip on her wrists, my stomach churning inexplicably every time she curved her lips in amusement. "Have you lost your mind, pest?"

"You were so eager to touch me again that you broke your own stupid rule, didn’t you?" she taunted, biting a corner of her lower lip and holding it between her teeth, eliciting a faint gasp from me. I hated when she did that. "Look at you, still the same scared little boy whenever something crosses the limits of your control."

She lifted her head slightly, and our faces blurred into one another. Instantly, my skin felt like it was sparking as if struck by invisible embers.

"You still reek of fear, Noah," she whispered, her voice maddeningly soft. God help me, it was the closest I’d ever been to losing my mind. "And I love it."

"How is it that your entire life revolves around making mine a living hell and enjoying every second of it!"

"I won," she declared softly, almost sweetly, her jet-black eyes gleaming like polished tourmalines. "I beat you."

There was no denying the curse in her gaze. Not once had her eyes crossed paths with mine without dragging me into an abyss where I fell endlessly, with no place to land. Trapped in a trance. That was her power over me.

"There are curses that can’t be broken, Noah..." she whispered, her lips brushing faintly against the skin of mine. They were dry from the sudden lack of air and the suffocating heat that had overtaken the studio in mere seconds. "No matter how much you try to avoid us during the year, every pathetic day of your life, or who wins tonight. In the end, you’ll always be mine."

Her small nose grazed mine, and my eyes closed as her long, curled lashes brushed against my eyelid. Every touch seemed to amplify in intensity, as if reality had slowed to six times its normal speed, forcing my body to absorb every moment with care.

My free hand traced the side of her body, and with each advance of my fingers, counting her ribs, she gasped and reacted with her skin prickling from the sensitivity. I lifted her by placing my hand on her spine, and when I finally released her wrists, she launched herself at me, pressing our lips together in a furious kiss.

She clung to my neck as if afraid I might escape at any moment—an impossible detail when I was holding the world in my arms. The entangling of our tongues fueled the compression of our bodies. Slowly, I pushed her legs apart to wrap them firmly around my waist.

“I never disagreed with this part,” I murmured, tugging at her lower lip slowly. Pulling away swiftly, I tilted her head back, my fingers digging into her hairline, and watched as her heavy breaths colored her flushed face. I couldn’t resist when her smile broke through a soft moan under the pressure I applied to her body.

Our laughter synchronized with our desperate breaths as we resumed the rhythm of our kiss. Living a scene where we’d almost killed each other moments ago seemed to ignite an even fiercer spark, fueling the silent dance of our bodies. I buried myself in her lips with such urgency, as if I might lose her again. Her lips sucked on mine as we switched sides, and I held her face firmly, pressing my thumb into her skin.

It was more than good.

Tasting something that belongs to you has a different flavor. Tracing a body you know so intimately, like running fingers over the keys of a piano; feeling at home in a familiar place; recognizing the rhythm of a breath as if it were a musical note; desiring to merge with one person's lips for the rest of your life.

It was more than good.

But it couldn’t be mine.

With one last turn, I released her lips slowly. She seemed confused at first but softened as I rested my forehead against hers. Her fingers gently traced my face, making my skin tingle as if it might peel from the bones at any moment.

“I know what you're trying to do…” I said quietly, as though an invisible rope tightened around my throat.

“No, no, no, no, my love…” she repeated, holding my face as I tried to pull away. “Don’t do this, please.”

“We can kiss now, drown ourselves in this feeling that everything still belongs to us. That we still exist. I could tell you I’ve been waiting for this, and you could drown me in your lies and more promises you won’t keep,” I declared, even more agonized. “But our problems won’t disappear when we walk through that door, and they’ll come back, forming that same chasm that tears us apart, the one we know too well. Do you know why? Because I don’t want to hear you anymore, no matter what you have to say.”

“No, don’t say that.”

“Because you haven’t changed a single thing, and the proof is what you’re trying to do now, pulling me back into the same cycle again.” With the finality of my words, I stepped away from her gradually and stood up. On a chair, I noticed a shirt I assumed was Ruffilo’s and threw it at her, still staring at the ceiling in a trance. “Why are you doing this?”

I felt like closing my own throat with my fists, such was the pain constricting it and cutting off my air. I needed to breathe in short intervals, releasing it slowly through my mouth. I watched her get up and dress while still sitting, her arms hanging limp, her disheveled hair revealing the knot she tried to swallow.

Like me.

“It’s getting harder every day to just pretend I don’t care about this when everything I see, every path I try to take, every place I’m in—everything I am—has you,” she said without even looking at me. “I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life, and that’s saying something, considering I’m used to my own company. But that was before I hated everything I see in the mirror. Because she’s the real culprit.”

“I could say I miss you—I miss you in the morning, I miss you at night, I miss you in the shower, I miss you in bed, I miss you when I eat, I miss you when I’m on stage, I miss you when I write…” I paused for a few seconds, searching for air in the ceiling. “Because you’re right, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to write anything good. You took everything I had, even my inspiration.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over, shaking her head. “There isn’t a day I don’t feel guilty for killing that version of you and turning you into this.”

I hated myself for being moved by her tears. Were they real, or just the effect of whatever junk she was on? I didn’t care; the crushing sensation was the same, like a hammer shattering a glass chest.

Taking cautious steps, I approached and knelt beside her. Hard shell, sharp tongue, and a messed-up personality, but deep down, she was just a girl afraid to go home, afraid of anything that might trap her again. She was like a damned little bird, insisting on flying with wings patched together with toothpicks after a grave injury.

"If you’re truly consumed by remorse and want to do something for me, then take care of yourself," I said softly, lifting her chin with the tip of my finger. "Keep your mind steady, your body healthy. I wish I could do that for you, because I would never treat you this way."

"I love you."

Shimmering gemstones in the salty sea of her tears—it was the first time I heard her say it with such anguish, as if each word tore through her chest. She surprised me with a tight embrace, collapsing onto my lap, breaking down completely on my shoulders, and shattering my heart with the sound of her sobs.

Unfortunately, I returned the hug just as tightly, drowning in her hair. She wouldn’t see the tears I left there.

I love you too, little storm.

Nor would she hear what I whispered to myself.

Bad Omens was on its way to Mexico.

We couldn’t be more excited about a festival in a country we had yet to visit. Our Mexican fans were awesome and always tagged us in posts, asking us to come. Their day had finally arrived.

Our schedule was so packed during the three days we’d be there that we’d hardly have time to explore the city. Gerard, of course, thought that was nonsense and made it clear that if we wanted to sightsee, that’s what vacations were for.

The guys were asleep in their seats at the back of the plane, and not even my headphones could block out Folio’s snores.

Matt, Jolly, and Ruffilo were with the rest of the crew, glued to their phones, while I… well, I was in my favorite spot by the window, playing a ridiculous fruit-slicing game on my iPad and listening to music.

Nothing could ruin my trip.

“Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.” She said quickly, weaving through the people in the aisle. Her body came to a halt in front of the aisle seat, and she checked something on her phone before glancing at the seat number.

Well, I spoke too soon.

“Great, this is my seat!” She said without much enthusiasm and, after placing her carry-on in the overhead compartment, sat down next to me.

It was impossible for her to arrive anywhere without drawing attention. She had to be noisy, bump into things, and breathe way too loudly. I kept playing as if nothing was happening and turned up the volume on my headphones.

Of course, after the conversation at the studio, things had gone back to normal. We fought like animals the next day because she insisted we should change the stage setup unnecessarily, and our brief truce resulted in another three days of silence.

I thought it was perfect.

“What are you listening to?” she asked, running her palm along her thigh. From her rushed tone, I guessed she was nervous.

“Music.”

“What song?” she shot back with another question, and I wished for death just to avoid answering.

“How about you grab your headphones, put them on, and stay silent for the rest of the flight while pretending this seat is empty and that Matt forgot me at the airport?” I said, glancing at her, and she didn’t even flinch.

For a few seconds, that actually worked—she stayed quiet.

But, as I said, only for a few seconds. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tapping her fingers on the torn part of her jeans. Her breathing seemed uneven, and even after sitting for a while, her body remained tense. If I knew her well enough, I’d say she was having an anxiety attack.

“Would you mind switching seats with me?” Her fingers curled, and she pressed her palm against the armrest as the plane prepared for takeoff. “I promise to stay really quiet if you let me have the window seat.”

I pretended not to hear and kept slicing fruit on the tablet. Out of the corner of my eye again, I saw her close her eyes as the plane ascended, shrinking into her hoodie with trembling fingers peeking out of the sleeves.

I closed my eyes, sighed deeply, and shifted to stand up. She opened one eye and looked confused as I gestured with my chin for her to take the empty window seat.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me Miss I’m Not Afraid of Anything is still scared of flying.” I let out a chuckle, settling into my new seat.

"Ok, go ahead and call me pathetic," she replied without looking at me, her eyes fixed on the clouds over the airplane wings as she quietly counted her breaths.

"Actually, try focusing your energy on something during the flight, and it’ll go by faster. Try listening to music, reading a book, or—"

"Composing? Singing for the entire plane?" she cut in, raising an eyebrow as she turned to face me. "All terrible options. Honestly, I just get bored when I’m sober."

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the tablet, as if pulling an invisible curtain between us. The more I kept my mind occupied, the faster the flight would pass, and the torture of enduring her next to me, constantly talking, would end.

"We get bored when we’re sober," she repeated, but this time with her eyes narrowing at something specific. "But we’re miserable when we’re not."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Her eyes lit up with something sharp, like lightning, and she pulled her phone from her pocket, fingers moving rapidly until she found the notes app.

"I can’t be saved," she murmured under her breath as she typed.

Carefully, I set the iPad aside and lowered the music in my headphones, watching something come to life before my eyes. She was having a burst of creativity and needed to write it down urgently.

"Watching it swirl down the drain," she continued, and my eyes narrowed as I watched her create something. It was fascinating how nothing around her seemed to exist—she was just immersed in her own thoughts.

I jumped when she suddenly shoved the phone into my hand, a sequence of jumbled phrases filling the screen. Each one had meaning but still needed to connect somehow.

So I decided to follow her inspiration’s formula.

"Old friends, the same as enemies. I’m killing myself again…" I said, finishing the sentence on her phone, filling one of the blank spaces.

"Watching it swirl down the drain…" Her expression finally softened as if something clicked into place. "Down the drain."

"With all I was but couldn’t change," I continued, holding her gaze before adding another note. "Down the drain."

"Down the drain," we said together, lifting our heads in surprise and holding each other’s gaze for a few seconds.

We had just created the second song for our album. Together.

Damn it.

We couldn’t be more different. We were a terrible duo playing instruments in completely disjointed orders. She always seemed to row against the current I was swimming, intentionally. And yet, it was surreal how she could take something so complex and make it look simple.

Like writing a song during an anxiety attack on a plane.

It was as if she didn’t need preparation or even a warm-up because she was born with it in her veins. Because she was good.

Really good.

"Thanks," she smiled, her breathing steadying as she leaned back in her seat. "I’m feeling better now."

"You wrote a good song."

"We wrote it," she corrected, nudging my arm with her elbow. "The first time you let yourself just listen to what’s in your head, we made a good song. We’re still a good team."

She looked so beautiful that, for a moment, I almost didn’t hear what she said, too focused on her bare face. The curve of her lips when she smiled was almost painful to look at up close, every time I remembered that just a few days ago, I’d tasted her again.

"Now that you’re feeling better, you can leave me in peace," I cut her off, turning up the music on my phone.

I was almost drifting off to sleep, guitar riffs running through my mind, when something poked my arm.

"Do you mind holding my hand?" My eyes opened, and there she was, looking at me with a pair of glistening gems. It was strange seeing her afraid, something I’d only witnessed a few times before. "Just until we land, please."

Slowly, I turned my palm upward and waited for her to slide her fingers over mine and interlace them. Unlike mine, her hand was soft and warm, and I couldn’t resist the involuntary motion of running my thumb slowly along the side.

Once again, I was doing what she wanted because maybe she was right when she said I was pathetic.

And I couldn’t wait for this plane to land already.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

[starletcake]

Headcanon about mage Viktor and his 'origins'

I didn't really understand how viktor could be the mage from Jayces past and I didn't really get any real or satisfying answers to that from anywhere, so I thought I would spin my own little theory (or at this point you could say fanfiction) as to how this all happened, how viktor became the mage in Jayces story, what he meant by "only you could ever show me this" etcetc. I assume/determine/establish many things for my thoughtprocess to be true, I do that for my story to work and for my mind to be at peace and that it can grip an answer and not go insane about pixels because apparently i cannot act normal around media i like.

First of all, I'm gonna assume that some things are just true/meant to happen/fated in ALL timelines. For example that viktor is going to ALWAYS come into touch with the arcane and even if his path can be different each timeline his end goal is always the same - glorious evolution. I also assume that if you time travel/jump timelines and act as a seperate individual in this timeline (not like f.e. ekko replacing himself in his timeline) you are not allowed/cannot intervene too much with it because then the time/space continuum collapses or the arcane throws a fit idk.

So let's imagine a timeline, I'm gonna call it "the first timeline" (even though it doesn't really make sense in thinking of first/next/last timeline because all of the timelines are parallels, but bear with me), a timeline where viktor comes into touch with the arcane a different way, because here he doesn't even know Jayce exists (the mage which gave him the rune doesn't exist yet/in this "first" timeline). He merges with the arcane, thinks he's doing everyone a favour by initiating the glorious evolution, finishes it, creates a perfect world and everyone is happy. Except it isn't a perfect world and nobody is happy, in fact everybody is practically dead, without joy, love and choice, and Piltover/maybe even the whole world crumbles into arcane waste because of Viktors actions. He doesn't understand what went wrong, he didn't want this, he wanted everyone to have equal opportunities and end all suffering and be without sickness, be perfect. There had to be some kind of mistake here. So, with the help of the arcane, he travels to another timeline, and tries to change a few things in his story. With hindsight, this time he could steer his young self in the right direction and this time, surely it will work.

But it doesn't. So he tries again. And again. And again and again and again.

But everytime, in every timeline, with every change he made, with every different decision he made, with every different way he found the arcane, it always ended the same - the glorious evolution was a mistake. More than that, an error in his thinking of his younger self, which is the catalyst of the apocalypse.

Having seen that outcome time and time again, this "first" mage Viktor realizes that this cost for perfection is flawed, and that imperfections do have beauty in itself. So, he goes into another timeline, this time adamant to stop himself. But he fails. He just isn't able to stop his younger self, he is not able to prevent that he is coming into contact with the arcane, he is not able to change his worldview, he is not able to change anything about his goal or conviction. So, maybe someone else could? Trying and trying to introduce character after character into his life, trying to let others influence him, to no avail. How could he, anyway? How could anyone change this worldview of him? He, "first" mage Viktor needed countless of timelines and experiences to learn, that he doesn't have to be ashamed of his flaws, that he doesn't have to erase them and that imperfections are what makes them all alive. How could anyone show him, in his limited lifespan, everything he learned in a multiple factor of this time?

And this is where Jayce comes in.

Maybe, in one of the infinite timelines, the "first" mage Viktor was just as lost as Jayce on that fateful day. Maybe he was about to give up his endeavor of stopping himself becoming the villain in each and every timeline. Maybe, he began to accept that, just as he is fated to meet the arcane, he is also fated to doom the world. Then, he sees a little boy, crying over his dying mother in a snow storm. Maybe he thinks, even if i will destroy the world later, maybe I could do a good deed now, and saves the little boys mother. He gifts the little boy a rune, and goes on with his day.

And BOOM, Jayce just got introduced to the game. This little act changed the course of history entirely, suddenly there was a brilliant mind in the middle of Piltover, suddenly Jayce and Viktor meet, and suddenly, Hextech is invented. Viktor gets a partner he can trust, that he loves and admires and he gets this love and admiration and trust back. They understand each other in ways nobody else could, they share moments of intimacy and ways of love no romantic love could ever reach(thats also a reason i don't really ship Viktor and Jayce, deep love doesn't always have to be romantic in nature and there are so many other types of love that are no lesser and can be more intense(even though my gay heart yearned for them to kiss at that last scene ngl)(well this and maybe im also trying to convince myself that it doesn't always has to be romantic love that saves the world and is the most impactful and beautiful and fated etcetc(can you tell I'm aro)))

And suddenly, new hope flashes in mage Viktors eyes. It's him. He is the one. The only one. The one he was meant to meet, meant to choose so Jayce could choose Viktor again. And even though this timeline also ended in the wasteland mage Viktor saw so often already, now he knows, oh he feels that he will be the one to change it all.

So this little clip where we see mage Viktor giving little Jayce all these different runes? This is actually the end of mage Viktors journey, the last couple steps to finally find true peace, not in the form all of the Viktors always thought they will(glorious evolution), but in the form of accepting himself. And nobody else, not himself or Singed or Silco or Sky or Mel or Heimerdinger, only Jayce, only him, only you, could show me this.

(Finally, one of the runes caused Jayce to travel to another timeline where the apocalypse already has happened, and Ekko in one where he invents his timetravel device. Finally, mage Viktor can talk to Jayce and Jayce promises Viktor to stop him, forgiving him and loving him regardless. And Ekko, being the last push Jayce and Viktor needed to, being the catalyst of this even being able to happen)

I'm only writing/thinking about/posting this to satisfy my urge to understand exactly what was going on and why characters acted that way or why situations happened, to try to fill plotholes that nag my brain in a series that i absolutely love and gives me so many emotions(mostly pain, oh the misery). Idk and idc if any of that makes actual sense or fits in the lore of LoL or even the show itself, if it retconns some things or if the show itself retconns some of this theory/story, it makes sense in my head and I kinda like it, and thats what brings me peace idk how my brain works ok. (Plus it would be so cool to see some of the alternate timelines where for example viktor works with Silco and Jinx instead or smth)

[burntheedges]

shadows

Din Djarin x f!reader | 5.4k | ao3 | 18+

summary: you were pretty sure the ship was haunted.

a/n: well, I finally finished it! this is my very late entry for the Monster (S)mash from @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett! my prompt: tentacle monster!Din. 😏 thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing! 🧡

tags/warnings: spooky vibes, flirting, feelings and smut, canon-typical violence (with a bounty), this is a tentacle monster fic and there is smut, so keep that in mind, it's exactly what you think it is, kissing, grinding, fingering, but not with fingers, p-in-v sex, creampie, cuddling, manhandling, except not with hands, if you get my drift, pet names (cyar'ika, mesh'la, good girl), no mention of details for reader other than wearing clothes and being a mechanic

...

At first you thought the Razor Crest might be haunted.

It was the only thing that made any sense. 

Nothing seemed to stay where you put it. Your caf would move half a foot to the right when your back was turned. You’d put your spanner down and lose it, only to look for it and find it sitting atop a crate well out of reach. One morning you woke up and found all of your little trinkets next to your sleeping pad had been shuffled around. You’d squinted at them, suspicious, but none of them had moved again.

You started keeping a sharper eye on things, but you never caught even a glimpse of any movement.

Well. You never saw any of your stuff move, that is.

The first few times you saw… something, you brushed it off as your imagination. You’d probably just been in space too long, right? Trapped on the ship with nothing to look at. Seeing things in the shadows. 

But you would swear to it – something would move just out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned, nothing was there.

Nothing was ever there. Even though the movements sometimes seemed to happen just before you’d find that your stuff had moved around with no warning.

You were starting to question your sanity. You even asked Din if he ever had trouble finding anything on the ship, but he only shook his head. Ok, just a me-problem, then. 

It perplexed you and frustrated you. You found yourself staring at your belongings, tense, as if daring them to move. You were glaring at your ultrasound cleaner when you realized you had no idea how long you’d been doing it and maybe you needed to get out for a bit.

“Din?” you called, sticking your head out of the ‘fresher and looking around for him. 

He grunted from off to your left, but you couldn’t see him. 

“Can we stop somewhere, get some supplies? Before your next job.”

He grunted again, but you could tell he was agreeing that time. You smiled as you ducked back inside the ‘fresher, but the expression was short lived. 

Your ultrasound cleaner had moved three inches to the right. You would swear it. 

…

Din stopped on Hetzal Prime and you took advantage of the large market to stock up on everything you could think you might need, from bacta to fruit to the various bits and bobs you used to keep the Crest in good shape. Din accompanied you for a while before disappearing off into the market on his own.

The fresh air helped. You smiled as you took your time at each stall. When a light breeze rustled your clothing you almost laughed at yourself, thinking about how you’d become certain that the Crest was haunted. Outside on the warm streets of Hetzal Prime, your worries seemed distant.

As you approached the Crest, you smiled again as you walked up the ramp, excited to show Din what you’d found for him at the stall with leather goods. You could tell you were the first one back, though.

When you stepped inside, you stopped and looked around suspiciously. 

Nothing had moved. Everything was exactly where you’d left it. 

You narrowed your eyes as you looked around the ship. “Alright, you,” you said to the Crest, trailing your fingers along one of the walls of the cargo area. “What are you up to?”

The Crest didn’t answer, of course, but you found yourself suddenly on edge, anyway.

“Talking to the ship?” Din’s teasing tone announced his arrival and you turned around quickly, surprised to find him standing at the top of the ramp. 

“How do you always do that?” you said, a bit breathless.

He tilted his head at you. “Do what?”

You shook your head and laughed. “Sneak up on me! Kark, you’re so quiet.” You couldn’t see his face, of course, but something about the angle of his hip and shoulders made you certain he smirked in response. 

He pointed at himself. “Bounty hunter.”

You rolled your eyes and dug around in your bag for his gift. “Yeah, yeah. Ok, Mr. Sneaky Bounty Hunter, I got you something.”

Din took a step towards you. “You didn’t have to–”

“I know, Din,” you cut him off, “but look!” You held out the leather strapping you’d found at the market. “This would be perfect to fix your holster, right?”

He reached out to take the strapping with his left hand while his right dropped down to touch the holster in question, the one with the straps he’d had to reinforce with so much stitching it was more thread than leather, these days. It still looked like it might come apart if you so much as breathed wrong in its direction. 

But Din was still quiet, and you were starting to worry. 

“Din?” He looked up at you, finally and your eyes darted across his visor. “Is it–”

He cut you off by reaching out to grasp your upper arm with his right hand. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, squeezing your arm gently. “Thank you.”

You smiled at him. “Of course. I saw it and thought of your sad holster, I had to get it.” He snorted and squeezed your arm again before stepping around you and moving into the ship. As he did so his hand skimmed down your arm and lightly brushed over yours. You turned to follow him, but your attention was suddenly caught and you stopped. Something had just moved, over in the dark corner of the cargo area – you would swear to it.

“Did you…” you trailed off as Din turned back to look at you. “Did you see something move?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him into the ship.

…

Later that night you laid out the facts in your mind as you stared at the ceiling of the cargo bay on your sleeping pad.

One: sometimes things in the Crest moved without you seeing them move.

Two: sometimes you thought – no, you knew – things would move just out of the corner of your eye, but you could never catch whatever it was in the act.

Three: nothing moved while you were off the ship.

What if the Crest isn’t haunted? you wondered as you started to drift off to sleep. What if it’s me?

…

When you woke the next morning, you were already far away from Hetzal Prime in hyperspace and on your way to Din’s next job. You realized you wouldn’t be able to test your theory that it was you that might be haunted while you were both stuck on the ship. (Not that you had any idea why – or by what – you might be haunted in the first place.)

By the time you reached Druckenwell, whatever was haunting the Crest – or you – was at it again. It seemed to follow you around the ship, just out of the corner of your eye, messing with you. In fact, you could have sworn that last night, just as you were falling asleep, you’d felt… something… brush lightly down your arm. You shivered, remembering. 

When Din came down the ladder, ready for his hunt, you were staring at the pad that had just completely flipped upside down on its own while your back was turned, lying innocently atop one of the crates. He stopped next to you and looked down.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, tilting his head to look at your face. 

You blinked. Oh, nothing, just staring at this inanimate object that I swear just moved on its own and losing my mind. “Nothing.” You turned towards him and looked him over. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Din looked down and reached out to flip your pad right-side up. “No more than a few days. They track everybody's movements here, shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”

You nodded. “Alright. I’ll probably stay here.”

He reached out to grasp your forearm and you blinked again, surprised. “Please,” he murmured, turning towards you fully. “Stay on the ship. Alright? We’re not in the best part of town.”

You nodded. “I will, Din.” His shoulders lost some of their tension and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’ll be right here.”

Just a few moments later he was gone and you made sure to engage the ground defenses after the ramp came back up. You turned and leaned against it, surveying the cargo hold slowly. “Alright,” you said to the empty ship. “Let’s figure this out, once and for all.”

…

Nothing happened.

You moved through the ship on full alert, darting your eyes from corner to corner, shadow to shadow, looking for whatever had been haunting you for weeks now. You felt silly for carrying your spanner like a weapon as you did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put it down, either.

But nothing moved.

It was almost too quiet, too still. Too normal. You realized, now that you were on the ship without it, that you’d gotten used to more than just your stuff moving around. Suddenly the shadows themselves seemed less dark, less deep. Too still. It took the change for you to notice but until now the shadows had seemed, well. Alive. You didn’t realize how often something aboard the ship made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up until whatever it was stopped doing it.

About 36 hours after Din left on his hunt you were lying on the floor of the cargo hold, exhausted from being so on edge, so intensely aware of your surroundings for so long. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if maybe you’d imagined all of it after all. It was possible, you supposed, that everything had moved because of… turbulence. Maybe space wind? Or something. 

Right? You glared into a shadowy corner, but nothing moved. It can’t all be in my head. You needed to sleep. Maybe this will all make more sense tomorrow. 

…

The next day, Din came back.

You were sitting in his seat, up in the cockpit, when your comm beeped. 

“It’s me,” he said, voice low. “I’m coming in. Wait.”

You leapt up, making your way over towards the ladder. When Din told you to wait, it meant he wanted you out of sight while he got the bounty into carbonite. You waited at the top of the ladder until you heard the hiss of the freezer.

“How’d it go?” you called as you slid down the ladder. You turned to look for Din and found him looking at you. You scanned him quickly but he didn’t look any worse for wear.

“Fine,” he nodded. “No trouble.”

You smiled at him. “Good. Where to next?” 

He brushed past you, moving towards the cockpit, and that’s when you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, just there… you swore something moved in the shadows by the carbonite freezer. Something dark, darker than the shadows themselves. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

But when you turned to look, nothing was there.

You shook your head, frowning, and turned to watch as Din disappeared at the top of the ladder. 

What if it wasn’t you that was haunted, or the Crest?

What if it was Din?

…

You spent the hours it took to get to your next stop, to the next bounty, studying Din. So much so that you were pretty sure he noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

It reminded you of the beginning of your partnership, when you’d first joined him on the Crest. You’d flirted with him, of course, almost from the moment you met. How could you resist? At first you’d even thought he was flirting back.

���Look,” he’d murmured, and you’d wondered if you were finally getting somewhere with this man you couldn't get out of your head. But he’d surprised you. “You don’t want this with me.”

You’d scoffed, disbelieving. “I know what I want, Mando.”

He’d sighed, and you could still remember how tired he’d sounded. How weary. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for. If you want to stay, this doesn’t happen.”

He’d sounded so certain, so firm. You didn’t know him well enough at the time to question it, and now? Now, when you were pretty sure you were actually in love with him?

Now all you wanted was to stay on the ship, and not get kicked off for flirting, of all things. Well, you also wanted to solve the mystery of whatever was haunting the ship. Or Din. 

And now you were staring at him, and even though you worried he might be getting the wrong idea, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

…

On Socorro, Din asked you to stay on the ship again, and you agreed easily. You had some maintenance to do, after all, and you needed to see if your theory was right.

You realized almost immediately that it had to be.

Din stepped off the Crest, and the shadows… lessened. The darkness in the corners of the ship seemed lighter. Nothing moved, nothing shifted, nothing squirmed in the dark. 

It was Din, after all. 

You spent the next two days trying to figure out what to do about it.

…

You were standing in the cargo area when he came back. 

“It’s me,” he gasped over the comm, and you felt your heart start to race at the tension in his voice, at the way he was breathing so heavily. “Wait.”

You turned, ready to hide, but the cargo bay started opening before you could. You darted towards the ladder, trying to make yourself scarce, but it was too late.

“What’s this, Mando?” said a deep, snarling voice. You shuddered. “Got someone waiting at home, do you?”

You looked and saw Mando dragging a large Trandoshan up the ramp. The bounty snarled at you when you made eye contact. “She’s a pretty one, Mando.” Your back hit the ladder and you froze. 

Din growled. “Shut it,” he said, shoving the Trandoshan forward. But it seemed that’s what the other had been hoping for, because he used the momentum to fall forward, breaking Din’s hold on him. He flipped into a standing position and snarled again. 

The next few moments played out in flashes in your mind.

Din, tensing, readying himself to leap towards the bounty.

The Trandoshan, bending his knees, turning away from Din and towards you.

You, scrambling backwards as the Trandoshan launched himself through the air in your direction.

The sudden roar that ripped from Din startled you and tore your eyes from the bounty to him. 

And that’s when you saw it. Saw them. 

Faster than your eyes could register, shadows erupted around him. No, you realized, they were coming from Din. Smoky black tendrils, slithering from under his armor, snaking down his limbs and outward in every direction, so fast it was like a burst of light. In less time than it took you to fully register what was happening they covered the floor and the walls and sped inexorably towards the Trandoshan. 

He never reached you.

The shadows pulled at him, grasping, wrapping him up in a stranglehold. Your jaw dropped as the bounty’s forward motion was arrested, mid air, and you gasped as he was flung into the carbonite freezer. 

Your entire body was frozen as you watched, as you allowed your eyes to trail along the tendrils of shadows back to Din. Din, who was standing there, breathing hard, holding the bounty in place somehow, but staring directly at you.

“Din?” you whispered, but he looked away and pushed himself forward to freeze the bounty. 

You heard the hiss of the freezer and watched as the shadows started to snake backwards the way they’d come, along the walls and the floor, slithering back under his armor. You watched, transfixed, as he seemed to pull all of the shadows that had just covered the cargo area into himself. 

You stepped closer, mesmerized, and as one tendril passed you you felt it caress the back of your arm before it whipped away. 

You gasped. You knew that feeling. You’d felt it before. 

Din turned around to look at you again, and you noticed he started to reach for you but balled his hands into fists, instead. He looked away. You could see his tension in every line of his body. The last few tendrils were snaking back under his armor when you stepped forward and wrapped your hands around his.

“Din,” you said, voice full of wonder. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

He kept his head turned away as he shook it. 

“Din,” you said, insistent. “Look at me.”

He did, slowly. 

“Is this…” you took a deep breath. “Is this why—“

He nodded once, sharp. You stepped closer. 

“Din,” you murmured, reaching up to cup the side of his helmet in your hand. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You should be. Cyar’ika—“

“Listen to me,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m not. So this is why? Because you’ve been hiding this from me?”

Din gave in, finally, and reached forward to grasp your hips in his large hands. You could feel them shaking. He nodded again. 

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t hide from me.” You tried to meet his eyes through the visor and hoped, like you always did, that you were successful.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Din’s voice was gravely and rough. 

“I’m asking for you, Din.” You slid your hands up his arms and behind his neck. “Just you.”

He shuddered and let his helmet gently bump against your forehead. “I want to. But–”

You shook your head. “Trust me, Din.” You stepped forward until you were pressed against him completely. “Don’t hide from me.”

For a moment he didn’t respond, and you started to worry that he would pull away from you after all. 

But then he groaned and surged forward, wrapping his arms around you before spinning you and pinning you to the wall of the Crest.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, voice deep and dark. You shivered. His hands found your hips again and squeezed. “Wanted you, cyar’ika.”

“Din–” you cut yourself off on a gasp when you felt it. Felt him.

First, the gentlest touch to your wrists. They snaked up your arm and you closed your eyes, lost to the feeling of what you now knew was Din touching you in a way you’d never been touched before.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft. “Look at me. Are you–”

You opened your eyes, and you knew what Din must have seen in them when he growled. 

“Din,” you breathed, feeling hot all over. “More.”

He loomed forward, pinning you harder against the wall of the ship. You felt light touches start to brush against your legs and then your neck. You sighed.

Din’s hand came up to cup your cheek and he tilted your face towards the light. You felt him watching you as you panted. “You like this?” he asked. He sounded stunned.

You nodded. He tightened the grip of the tendril around the back of your neck and you gasped. 

“You like this,” he growled, and then the ship was suddenly plunged into darkness when the lights went out. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but stopped when you heard the unmistakable hiss of his helmet seal releasing. 

“Din?” You breathed, and when he spoke you actually moaned at the sound of his unmodulated voice. 

“I’ll make it so good for you, cyar’ika.” Without warning you felt his lips touch your throat and you gasped. “Let me touch you.”

“Please.”

His hands didn’t move but you suddenly felt him everywhere. Soft touches trailed up your thighs and down to your ankles, wrapped around your back and caressed your neck. You felt one trace your cheekbone and sighed. 

“So soft,” he murmured, face buried in your neck. You felt what had to be a mustache tickle you and smiled. “Everywhere. Just like I knew you would be.”

“Can you—“ you gasped when you felt a tendril snake under your shirt and up your spine. “Can you feel? With them?”

Din nodded into your neck. “Not as much as— it’s not the same. Just… textures. And temperature.”

You marveled at that for a moment. “Din,” you said, and he lifted his head. You couldn’t see him in the dark but you imagined he was looking at you. “I want to feel you everywhere.”

He surged forward and captured your mouth in a searing kiss that took your breath away. 

You’d never been kissed like this. You felt his lips and his hands but then you felt them everywhere else, too. Head spinning, you sank into the feeling of being so firmly held in so many new ways. 

Din broke away and started pressing soft kisses along your jaw that made you sigh. You realized your hands were clutching his cape and let it go, sliding your hands upwards. 

“Your armor,” you murmured. But you stilled when your hands didn’t find anything but flightsuit. “Did you–”

“Yes,” he said, and you could hear his smile. “Faster with a little help.”

You smiled, too. You hadn’t even noticed him taking it off. Your hands continued their slide upwards until you reached his neck. “Can I…”

“You can touch me wherever you want,” Din said, voice low. “I want you to.”

Permission granted, you slid your hands into his hair, marveling at the feeling of touching something you’d never seen. 

“I want you to touch me, too, Din,” you said, and smiled when running your fingers through his hair made him shiver. You felt more tendrils start to snake under your shirt and obligingly lifted your arms. Soon, so quickly it took your breath away, you were standing in the dark in nothing but your underwear with a tall, strong, naked Mandalorian backing you into the wall of the ship.

Din kissed you again, and your mind floated away as he touched you. His hands were on your hips but soft touches, soft but firm, held you everywhere. They snaked across your back, tangled around your legs, twisted between your fingers until you didn’t know where you stopped and he began.

A sudden firm touch broke through the overwhelming onslaught of Din as one lone tendril snaked around your torso and teased at your underwear. You broke away from the kiss and gasped. 

“I’ll make you feel so good, cyar’ika,” he murmured, pressing kisses along your jaw.

“Please,” you breathed, and he smiled against your cheek. Your head was spinning at the knowledge that he was touching you there, slipping closer, while his hands hadn't moved. “Din–” It started with a gentle touch over your underwear, nothing like anything you’d ever felt before. It teased at you, stroking so lightly it made you start to tremble. 

You felt your heart race even faster as you tried to split your attention between all the ways he was touching you. His hands held you firmly by your hip and neck while the tendril slipped inside the band of your underwear and downwards, making you gasp. You threw your head backwards as it started to tease at your slit and only the firm grip of Din’s hand on the back of your neck kept you from hitting it against the wall of the ship. 

The tendril slipped inwards and you whined.

Din began to worry a mark into your shoulder as a soft, unfamiliar touch began to circle your clit. Just as you began to catch your breath, a second one slipped inside of your underwear and began to tease around your entrance.

“Din,” you breathed, and he smiled against your neck. “Please.”

“Mmm,” he replied, and you could hear the amusement in it. “Please what, cyar’ika?” He slid his hand from your hip to ass and gripped it firmly, tugging your hips forward to meet his own. 

“In–” your breath hitched as the tendril that had not let up on your clit, not even for a second, pressed down a bit more firmly. “Inside.” 

Din nipped at your neck as he began to push your underwear down. “My hands are a little busy.” He squeezed the back of your neck and let your underwear fall around your feet.

Your cheeks and neck and chest began to burn with the knowledge of what you were about to say. “Not with your fingers.” Your voice was so tentative, so breathy, it was a wonder it came out at all. 

Din stilled, just for a moment, and then surged forward to claim your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he spoke, his voice was almost a growl. “Good girl.” 

You felt some of the tendrils that had been lightly teasing your thighs suddenly surge upwards and you gasped. Gently but firmly they parted your folds and held you open as a few more tendrils joined the one teasing at your entrance. You shivered.

“Right here?” Din murmured into your ear. “Is this what you want?” One of the tendrils pushed inside, just a bit, and you clutched at his shoulders. He used his free hand to lift your leg around his waist. “Tell me.”

You nodded. “Din, yes, please. Inside.” 

He started with one. It pushed its way inside you slowly and sent your mind spinning. It moved so differently than anything you’d ever felt before, so agile, so soft. A second one quickly followed and they began twisting together inside of you in a way that took your breath away.

It took you a moment to realize Din was still murmuring in your ear. “You feel so good, mesh’la. So warm. So soft.” He pressed soft kisses behind your ear as a third tendril joined the others and you moaned at the stretch. “So good for me.”

You lost track of time as he toyed with your clit and filled you in a way you’d never been filled before. You had no idea how much of him was inside of you, only that it felt perfect and delicious, particularly when he began to massage the spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Din,” you said, thrusting your hips forward. You could feel it building inside of you. There wasn’t a single inch of your skin he hadn’t touched yet and it was filling you in a way you never knew you needed. 

You whined as you felt it nearing and Din nipped at your ear in response. “Let go for me, cyar’ika. Let go.”

You did, and the pleasure rushed through you like an avalanche, building from the base of your spine, spiraling upwards until it overflowed from you in a gasp. He worked you through it, praising you, until you began to relax in his arms.

Din released his grip on your neck suddenly, but before you could even begin to make a sound mourning its loss, he used it to grab your other leg and wrap it around his waist, pinning you to the wall. His cock was suddenly pressed against you, right where his tendrils still held you open, and you moaned. 

You felt him start to pull out, his tendrils dragging lightly inside of you, and whined in protest. 

“Shh,” he said, kissing you quickly. The tendrils held you open once more and he thrust forward until his cock was sliding against your open, wet pussy. “I’ve got you.”

On his next thrust, the head of his cock notched against your entrance and you sucked in a sharp breath. You could feel his tendrils guiding him in as he slid forwards, pressing onwards until he was fully inside of you. Even after the way he’d just opened you up the stretch was amazing.

He paused for a moment, and you realized you were both breathing heavily and quickly. “Can I–”

“Move,” you interrupted him, and with a full-body shudder, he did.

Starting slow and building to a rhythm that took your breath away, Din began to move his hips. As he thrust forward again, the tendrils caressed you, all over your body. A few of them left cool, wet marks across your skin and you shivered with the knowledge of where they had been.

You yanked his head up by his hair and even though you couldn’t see him, you pulled him forward into a kiss.

Din groaned into your mouth and you clutched at him, thrusting your hips forward to meet his. The tendril that had again started circling your clit began to move just right, and you almost sighed into his mouth, jaw falling slack.

“Din, I–” you were building towards your peak again, somehow, and like he could tell, his hips began to move faster.

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Yes, cyar’ika,” he breathed. “Come for me.”

Once more, you couldn’t help but do as he said. It felt like being pulled over a cliff, floating through the air with him supporting you everywhere, tendrils gliding along your skin and holding you up. You’d never felt anything like it, this full-body caress that held you firmly as you fell. You cried out his name and his hips stuttered once, twice, before he followed you over.

…

In the time it took for your breath to come back, Din maneuvered you both onto your cot and replaced his helmet, so he could turn the lights back on. You let yourself drift as you cuddled into his side, but as comfortable and sated as you were, you couldn’t turn off your curiosity.

“Can I–”

He laughed, and you smiled into his chest. “Ask.”

You weren’t sure where to start, so you went with the basics. “Do they… come from somewhere?”

Din hummed. “Not… physically.” He tugged you closer and you went easily. “I sort of think of them as shadows. Part of my shadow.”

“Have you always had them?”

He nodded as two tendrils started to stroke along your arm. “My parents – my actual parents – taught me to hide them. So I did, even from the Mandalorians. I could tell, even there, that there was no one else like me.”

You tightened your arm around his middle. You had the sudden urge to go back in time and hug little Din. 

“You know, you said no flirting, but I don’t think they got the message.” You looked down at where two shadowy tendrils were lightly tracing shapes along your naked thigh, the one you had thrown over his hip that Din held in a firm grip with his left hand. You could feel a tendril wrapping itself around your ankle while another wound around your waist. Each one left goosebumps in its wake and you shivered at the delicious feeling of all the ways he was touching you. 

He sighed. “I know,” he said, tone wry. “I was trying to stay away, but I’m too used to being alone on the ship. Not worrying about hiding it here. I know where everything is. And then every time I thought about you…” he ran his right hand up your spine and squeezed your thigh with the other. “I was trying so hard not to flirt or catch your attention that I ended up doing… all of that. I had no idea what to do, I was so afraid of you figuring it out. I’m pretty sure I even moved some of your stuff in my sleep.”

You laughed and propped your chin on your hand, leaning on his chest to look at his visor. “Wait,” you said, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “So you can be sitting up in the cockpit and move something down here?”

He nodded, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I know this ship too well. It’s easier here.”

You bit your lip. You wanted… your next thought felt illicit, even after everything you’d just done together. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together and squirmed against him instead. 

He noticed, of course. “What?” He sounded amused.

“I just… if you can reach me, from all the way up there…” you knew he could see what you wanted. It had to be written all over your face. 

His grip on your thigh tightened. You grinned when he growled. Suddenly the lights flicked off, and you knew he must have done it without you noticing. You heard the hiss of his helmet release and realized neither of his hands had moved from your body. 

You shivered at the desire in his voice, once you could hear it unfiltered. “Oh, cyar’ika,” he murmured, and you felt hundreds of soft, barely there touches ease you into position straddling his hips. “Let me show you."

...

a/n: 👀

[jennycalendar]

“ngl i thought you were the weak one of this friend group but your whole life just went to complete shit around you and somehow you’re still acting the same so if you want to be weak you can be around me” au

This is not even au for Jaheira and Khalid this is just them lmao

THIS IS JUST THEM!!!! ended up writing it as literally just them bc it. It is just them.

It is not a walk-it-off sort of injury. Khalid’s arm is barely attached to his body. Their cleric is a good distance away, and the state of their party after this battle is dire enough that his injury simply is not highest-priority right now. Jaheira, who was paired with him for his first mission, who was therefore responsible for protecting him as he found his bearings, is trying very hard not to let guilt and shame take her over, because neither are constructive emotions, nor will they calm him when she removes his helmet.

He has not moved. He is slumped against a tree. She lifts the helmet to check his breathing, expecting to see the pain and fear of a green Harper realizing how truly serious their foes are, and instead he meets her eyes with gentle concern. Raises a hand to her face, which is hardly the sort of thing that—that is, they have not known each other for very long, and—

“You look,” he coughs, speckling her front with blood, “w-worried.”

Jaheira says, slightly hysterically, “Your arm is nearly severed.”

“Oh, that,” says Khalid dismissively. He pulls a face. “I’ll walk it off.”

“You’ll walk it off?”

“Got worse at home,” says Khalid, and smiles like he thinks this is funny. Jaheira is struck with the urge to beat him to death before realizing that this is possibly counterintuitive, and also possibly not at all what she wants, long-term. What she wants from him is less familiar and much more frightening. “Petra, she’s—taking care of Wyn. Yes?” When Jaheira tries to bring her healing magic to her fingertips, he says, gently reproving, “You’re, you’re out of magic. Wait.”

“I cannot.”

“Wait.”

How is he so calm? He is delicate, nervous, shy and unsure in absolutely all situations they have been in up until now. He defers to her and to other senior Harpers with a sort of quiet relief, as though the concept of taking charge himself is not something he is at all comfortable with. She has been preparing herself for the arduous task of either forcing him to toughen up or illuminating to him that this is not the life for him, and yet—yet even in those moments of contemplation, turning over strategies to reach him and make him realize the importance of bravery, all of her thoughtful theories felt hollow. There always felt like there was something she was missing. She thinks that she is seeing it now.

Khalid squeezes her shoulder with his good hand. He says, calmly, “I’m fine,” in the thin, thready voice of a dying man. How is he so calm?

Jaheira has known him for two weeks. The thought that flits through her mind is more terrifying than the blood soaking into the grass: I just found you. I cannot lose you now.

Petra sprints over, white-faced, healing potions clinking together in her bag. Jaheira allows herself to be pushed aside. She is thinking about the space in her own satchel that she usually reserves for her own complicated alchemical concoctions, and what it might do to instead save a healing potion or two for Khalid. Just in case. 

Petra straightens. Khalid is sitting up, both arms attached. Jaheira wants to throw herself at him, which is not an emotion she has ever experienced about another person before, and the fear holds her still. She curls her fingers around her satchel and waits, mouth drawn tight.

Khalid picks up his dented helmet from the ground, examining it ruefully. He looks back up at Jaheira and the corners of his mouth soften. “Saer,” he says. “I’m fine. No need to worry.”

Petra scoffs. “As if Jaheira’d worry over you!” she says, a laugh in her voice. “Or anyone! We know that face well enough, little Harper; that’s the face she makes when she’s too mad to even speak. You’d do well not to charge in ahead like that next time. She can take care of herself.”

Like a lightning strike, Jaheira realizes what she had not caught in the heat of battle: he had taken that blow for her. She can think of a thousand cutting reprimands that a senior Harper would bark in this moment, but a lost little girl from Tethyr, never once protected, can only shut her mouth and stare hungrily at him with a thousand things she will someday figure out how to say.

[celestialmantdonna]

Thor appreciated Wanda's kind words, but he knew that the guilt would persist. Wanda understood guilt as well, and as much as he wanted to dwell on the negativity like he had been doing for the last five years, he had found a distraction in the chaotic lifestyle of the Guardians. That and the fact that Wanda was a fellow Avenger.

Mantis smiled when Wanda said she could create her own clothing, and she nodded.

"The Benatar is big. There is enough space for you to stay," she said. Gentle hands held Wanda by the shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. "You will not cause problems. You are struggling, like the rest of us, and you need support. Let us provide that for you. I cannot promise that we will solve all your troubles, but I can promise that you will not have to face them alone."

Thor nodded when Wanda looked at him. "You are more than welcome to stay. In truth, only Nebula seems reluctant to let you do so. But the Star-Lord is right, she ought not judge you. Stay with us, Wanda. 'Tis the only way you can begin to heal." He didn't mean that staying with the Guardians specifically was the only way, but being surrounded by people was. It was important that Wanda gained a sense of connection and community so she would feel seen and heard. It would help her realize that she mattered.

Mantis gave back to Wanda her picture with Vision and the boys, then guided her to one of the bathrooms, explaining where each thing was so the woman would be able to shower, as she was unfamiliar with the Benatar. Mantis offered Wanda her shampoo, honey scented with traces of flowers. She had created it by mixing up a few different types of shampoo, so it would adapt to all types of hair texture and produce a calming effect.

She left Wanda alone and returned with the rest of the Guardians. Their verbal sparring had subdued, and when Wanda returned, she would find that the Guardians had unfolded the sofas into beds, and Thor was making tea for everyone.

"Asgardian herbal tea," he explained to Wanda, and handed her a mug.

"Zune," Quill said, trying to mimic Thor's voice, and gave Wanda the device. "Play any song you want. It'll make you feel better."

Drax was eating the rest of the soup Mantis made, since Wanda said she didn't want any more.

"You added yaro root," he remarked.

"I did," Mantis chirped.

"Yaro root?" Nebula repeated, and quickly walked over to the Kylosian warrior. "Give me."

Drax handed her the spoon as Thor kept giving everyone the mugs.

"We'll all sleep here," Mantis explained, smiling at Wanda. "That way you will not be alone with the book. Not even for a second. We are here for you, Wanda."

What Have I Become? || closed reply

@thiscrimsonsoul continued from here

Mantis knew things would never be the same, not after everything Thanos had done to the galaxy. To the family Mantis had found when she wasn't even looking for one. She had always known the galaxy was cruel, so much so that Mantis only sought to make it softer with her gentle disposition. But, as she witnessed the aftermath of Thanos' plan, Mantis realized she would hardly be able to make a difference. She pushed the thought aside; after all, a small difference was still a difference.

Even though the galaxy had been permanently changed, Mantis enjoyed little moments like these, letting her mind wander while she would tend to her plants. She hummed a melody, her hands arranging the leaves calmly. Focused as she was, she didn't notice there was someone new aboard the Benatar. She was startled by a loud knock on her bedroom door, and she frowned slightly before reaching out to open it.

"Wanda?" Mantis asked. What was Wanda Maximoff doing in space? And how did she get into their ship?

Mantis wasn't too familiar with Wanda, but as the young woman threw her arms around her, begging for help, Mantis hugged her back almost instinctively. A victim of the Snap holding another in a moment of need, now that they were something other than mere dust.

"Wanda," she repeated, keeping her voice soft. "What...?"

Wanda's energy revealed she was unwell, so Mantis knew her healthy, youthful appearance was an illusion. Wanda was in so much pain... She was grieving, and she felt tremendous loss, guilt and overwhelming loneliness. Mantis rubbed Wanda's back in an attempt to soothe her, though she refused to use her powers for now. Sometimes people just needed a hug and a sympathetic ear.

"It's okay, you are safe. Thor is here, if you are looking for him, and... I am here, too. You are not alone," she said, hoping Wanda would understand that whatever had happened, she didn't have to go through it alone.

[aria0fgold]

Sorry I'm not your God (神様じゃなくてごめんね) Romaji Lyrics

Nee,

Kimi kara mite boku no kao wa

Nani iro ni mieteru no kana

Hontō wa kimi ga egaku yōna

Sunda iro nanka janainda

Monogatari no shujinkō mitaina

Seigi no hīrō no yōna

Kodo to kotoba o nazotta

Sono kekka ga ima no bokudatta dakenanda

Shinzō ni tenteki o sasu yōna utade

Asa o ikinobite wa

Yoru no omosa ni kubi o shimerare nagara

Iki mo tamerare yashinai

Nigiri tsudzuketeita shinzō mo

Dareka no bunda to shitteshimatta

Sono kuse dareka o sukuitakatta

Sore ga hontō no boku nanda

Aa,

Shōdoteki na aide sukuwaretakunai yo

Nante mie o hatte itteshimatta

Kakkoyokunakute gomen ne

Aa,

Sekai yori kimi o erabutte

Minna ni ichatta

Kono ude wa ni hon shikanai no ni sa

Kamisama janakute gomen ne

Aa,

Furimaita nasake ga

Kiba ni natte osōtekichatta

Kitto subete yuruseru to omotta

Tsuyokunakutte gomen ne

Aa,

Tsunaideta te o hanashite

Kimi o oite ichatta

Kimi o mamoru tame no hazudattanda

Kamisama janakute gomen ne

Kitto boku wa yasashii hito

Demo kimi wa boku yori yasashii hito

Yasashii hito bakari kizutsuiteiku

Kono dōshiyō mo nai sekai de sa

Kitto boku wa orokana hito

Demo kimi mo onnaji orokana hito

Dakara wakattekureru to omotta

Sore o negatteshimattanda

Aa,

Kitto boku wa yasashii hito

Demo kimi ga boku yori yasashii hito

Dōka kimi dake wa boku mitaini sa

Hikari o miushinatte shimawanaide

Kitto boku wa orokana hito

Demo kimi mo onnaji orokana hito

Dakara kimi ga nami o omōka wakaru yo

Konna ketsumatsu jaiyada yo ne

Aa,

Tsuranuita shisō ga

Dareka no kokoro o koroshichatta

Sore dake ga tadashii to omotta

Kirai ni narenakute gomen ne

Aa,

Itsu no hi ka nageta kotoba ga

Zenbu kaettekichatta

Kono ondo wa tashika ni aru no ni sa

Kamisama janakute gomen ne

Aa,

Sayonara o shinai tameni

Kōsuru shika nakattanda

Kimi no me ni tayoritaku natteshimatta

Risō ni narenakute gomen ne

Aa,

Zen jinrui o aisu nante koto wa

Dekinakatta yo

Dakara dōka boku o urandekure

Kamisama janakute gomen ne

[gaycousinlarry]

.

[littledeadling]

Cant get over how hard they’re biffing it with the Mandalorian. God. Ouchie

[milo-is-rambling]

Just remembered how one of my dedicated to people last roadtrip literally was like “oh actually I don’t think you can stay here tonight I have work early tomorrow :(“ after driving like seven and a half hours to him (and he texted me this when I was an hour away from his house and we had literally talked about my plans to stay there all day) like hello red flag red flag red flag

[sunni-stuff]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 This is part 4 Part 5

His question hit like a punch, and the pressure of it lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. Armed Forces Day? Three years ago? A sharp jolt of recognition hit you, though the details of that night remained fuzzy. The memories were there, but they felt distant—like something you hadn't allowed yourself to fully remember after becoming a mother. 

You steadied yourself, trying to mask the unease rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?” you tried to sound steady but the tightening grip on your purse betrayed the rush of nerves running through you.

Simon shifted, his broad frame nearly eclipsing the dim light of the bar. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle in his own head, as though each word carried a burden too heavy to bear. “There was a night,” he began, his tone low and rough, every syllable deliberate. “Here. Three years ago. You were here. So was I.”

Your heart skipped, a wave of realization hitting with an almost physical force. The hazy recollections of that night flooded back, slowly accumulating together—laughter, drinks, an unexpected connection. Something that hadn’t felt planned but had burned far too bright to ignore.

The knot in your stomach twisted painfully, every part of you urging you to push it away, but the truth had already begun to sink in. “You’re…” The words stalled in your throat, heavy and lodged, the sentence unfinished as the reality stung like an accusation between you.

Simon exhaled sharply, part sigh, part laugh—but there was no humor in it. His gaze locked onto yours with unsettling intensity, and for a moment, it felt like he was waiting for you to break. “Yeah,” he replied simply, the word thick with certainty. “And she’s mine, isn’t she?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine, your body instinctively stiffening. The truth strung in the silence between you both, too glaring to avoid. Heart racing, every sense screamed to deny it, to distance yourself from this conversation before it spiraled out of control. But anything that could be said felt wrong, heavy on your tongue as you forced them out: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Simon’s eyes held yours, filled with something you hadn’t seen before—a desperation that cut through his usually composed demeanor. “Please,” he urged, the plea more potent. “Just tell me.”

How could this be happening? How could something so raw, so unspoken, suddenly spill into the air between the two of you? The weight of the moment anchored you, and for a moment, you couldn’t find a way to move past it. 

“She is,” you muttered at last, the confession slipping out like an unwanted secret. Fingers clenched tightly against the table’s edge, grounding yourself against the suffocating reality pressing in. “I never thought… never thought you'd come back into the picture.”

A brief silence stretched out before you spoke again, everything tumbling out in a rush. "I didn’t even know your name. All I recall was you kept making me." The admission hung in the air, lighter than it was, an attempt to lighten everything you didn’t want to say. 

The memory refused to stay buried. His face from that night, the intensity of his stare under the bar’s muted glow, how his presence seemed magnetic and overwhelming all at once—it all surfaced, unbidden. The connection had been undeniable, but that was your secret to carry. He didn’t need to know the details you still clung to.. 

“I don’t even know how it happened,” The sentence barely made it past your lips. “We used protection.” Doubt crept into your mind, unraveling the careful narrative you’d built for yourself. Did we? The past, fogged by alcohol and blurred moments, refused to come into focus.

Simon blinked, the blankness in his expression giving way to confusion, then disbelief. “Did we?” he asked with an edge of uncertainty. He was searching for answers neither of you seemed able to provide. Silence filled the space between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

"That parts a bit fuzzy," you admitted quietly, thoughts drifting away, the edges of the remembrance blurring with every passing second. “And clearly we didn't given our current situation.” 

Meeting his gaze, you knew this was the man from that fortunate night. Only different. More mature as if life hadn’t been kind to him. “All I know is… I woke up, and it was just me.” The recollection hung heavier than expected, twisting in your chest. "I never imagined I’d run into you again."

A heavy silence settled between the two of you, the gravity of everything left unsaid pressing down on the air. Neither of you knew how to move forward, or even if moving forward was possible.

“I knew she was mine,” Simon muttered, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, fighting against his own emotions threatening to break free.

You blinked in disbelief, the reality of his revelation settling in like ice in your veins. “You saw her?” The shock was evident. The idea that he had been so close—watching, perhaps even knowing—yet remained silent was almost too much to process.

Simon nodded, his gaze never meeting yours as he began. “Last month. When you were leaving the café with her. Johnny stopped you, and I was there.” He hesitated, swallowing hard as if the bulk of it all was pressing on him. “Johnny and the lads, they were the first to say they saw a little girl with my face. I was skeptical at first But then… then I saw the two of you together. And I saw it. Saw me in her. I had no idea she was even a possibility. Or that you were, for that matter."

Your breath hitched, a sharp sting rising in your chest. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface, the hurt, and the confusion all collided in one sudden wave. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The question shot out before you could stop it, the accusation sharp and loaded with all the frustration. He had been so close. Watching. Why didn’t he speak up?

Simon paused, his gaze dropping to his hands, fingers flexing as if he were trying to grasp for something he couldn’t hold. The silence stretched long between you, the tension palpable, as if the room itself was holding its breath. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came. 

“I…” He started, staring at his hands as though they might hold the answer. “I’m not good with things like this, love.” He rubbed the back of his neck, having a hard time fully expressing how he felt but this moment needed authenticity. “I needed time to figure out if I could step into a life that was already doing fine without me. I was afraid of complicating things, of ruining something that was just fine without me."

You didn’t expect what he said to hit you so hard. The impact of his confession—that he had stayed away because he wasn’t sure if he was fit to be a part of your life, Adira’s life—settled deep within you, heavier than you could have imagined. You’d been fine, hadn’t you? Raising Adira, carving out a life on your own. But there's always been that lingering voice in the back of your mind, that small, quiet thought of “what if?” What if things had been different? What if he had been there from the start? Maybe you wouldn’t have had to quit those overpriced mommy-and-me classes because of those judgmental women who gossiped behind your back. Maybe things would’ve been easier.

“I wasn’t about to just waltz in, love,” Simon’s voice softened, more vulnerable now, like he was carefully weighing his thoughts. “I needed to know if you’d even want me here. You and her…” His gaze darkened for a moment, his voice trailing off as though unable to bear too much out in the open. “I wasn’t sure if I was the right person to step into something already so… perfect.”

In those words, there was something you hadn’t expected to hear from him: honesty. He was afraid. Afraid of being the one to ruin what you had built. Afraid of not being enough for you or for Adira.

“I guess I understand,” you said quietly. "I just wish you showed up sooner."

Simon didn’t answer right away. Something within him flickered with guilt, and for a moment, you both stood there in silence. He glanced down at his hands, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out, but wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

"Can I meet her?" Simon asked nervously, a grown man fidgeting in his seat, the weight of his request sinking in.

"Now?" You chuckled, trying to brighten the moment. "It's late. I'm sure she's already asleep."

Simon’s gaze flickered with hesitation, but the desire was clear. He was barely holding it together, as if afraid that the chance to meet his daughter would slip away if he didn’t ask now. 

"I understand," he mumbles after a pause, almost to himself, but there was a longing there you couldn’t ignore. "I just…I need to see her. To know her. Even if just for a moment."

The magnitude of the situation pressed down on you again, this wasn’t something you had expected when you woke up this morning. You had no clue what to do with all of this, with him, with Adira’s future—your future. But still, you could hear his sincerity.

"Tomorrow," You decided. "We can meet up tomorrow, but it has to be on her terms. She's not exactly the warmest with new people."

Simon nodded, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "I can wait."

You gave him a small smile, a silent acknowledgment of the moment. There was still so much to figure out, but at least now, for the first time, there was a possibility. A chance to rebuild what had been lost. "Bring toys," you suggested sincerely, thinking about what would make her happy. "She likes trains. Doesn’t need to be anything cartoon-ish, just a proper train."

Simon blinked, a touch of confusion in his gaze. "She doesn't like dolls? Like most girls?" His tone had a hint of disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite picture a little girl who wasn’t into the typical, pink frilly things.

The thought of dolls made your stomach tighten, and you shook your head vehemently, as if to expel the very idea. "God, no," you replied, unease creeping into the conversation. "Please, don’t bring dolls. That’s the last thing I want." You shuddered as you spoke, recalling all the unnerving memories. "She gets all Sid from Toy Story with them."

Simon’s brow furrowed even deeper, clearly unsure. "What does that mean?"

You visibly grimaced, the image flashing vividly in your mind. "It means I wake up to doll heads scattered all over the place," you say, your voice low and serious. "And it's... creepy. Like she's planning something with them. It’s like waking up in a horror movie."

Simon chuckled at first, but as he saw the unflinching seriousness in your expression, his laughter quickly turned uncertain. His grin faded, and the unease that filled his eyes told you that he was realizing this wasn’t some joke. "You’re messing with me, right?"

Your stare at him, completely deadpan. "I wish I was."

For a moment, Simon just stared, taking in your unwavering expression. His lips parted, a nervous laugh escaping him as he absorbed warning. "Alright," he said slowly, now understanding your cautious warning. "No dolls. Trains. Got it."

You gave a relieved sigh, feeling the baggage lift off your shoulders. The tension hadn’t fully gone, but for now, at least the toy issue was settled. There were plenty of bigger things to confront later, but this? This was a small victory.

This one is a little shorter than the rest, simply because I want the meet up chapter to be really long for yall! :3

taglist: @smdnai @liliemb04 @montenegroisr @lunamoonbby @sapphire-jelly26 @angelrissa @redroserabbit @tiramisa3 @insomniacticartist @nommingonfood @scaleniusrm @creepingeva @armycaratlover @hbaasaad @illusionistlover @janeety @emptyboxeslot @oniiloma @yearninglustfully @lockofspades @danielle143 @gifted-aurora @lil0witch666 @axdjelx @kvirzz @pawnthedice @limeleag @skylarmitchell @mxtokko @sillylittlereader @gaida-511 @sharkybabe9 @arrozyfrijoles23 @eevily @maciswack @lveegsoi @cold-deep-water @a-lil-bit-nuts @mehjustalasshere @just-lilita @r0s3luvr @melena83 @melena83 @blueplant69 @inneedsoffanfics @uchihabucketlist @serafina-nyx @dragon-bubs @rowsandrowsofnothing @amaraabbz @tacticalgirlboss @tajanabuh-blog @creepumiku @nemuranaifukuro @nikt-wazny-y @shadowdark00 @red-in-my-veins @t3a-bag @doodle-cat16 @natdu @opposumman @takeyour-pants-off @despairinglakepasta @thychuvaluswife @watersquirtpewpewboomm @danika1994 @fancymilkshakewitch @littlemisspropaganda @anndraco0523 @makimamybelovedwife @mishaglass @gg-trini @topaz125 @captainchrisstan @zedis2007 @midnightprocrastinator @lem-hhn @bibisbooktalk @awkward-slime @xxravenxstarxx-blog @yourlittlehoe @mklovesbagels @nhlfs @sebastiansstanswhore @chaos-on-stand-bi @codcosplayer @athenianharpy @personwhosucksassatmath @krembruulee @singshoutshaxx @callsignang3l @doingitfortheplot @huehuehuehuehehe @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @blueladys-world @livvrosesblog @honey-teaaaaaaaa @ginghamandkitsch @hannas16 @captianjacksparrow121 @whore-for-viktor @onespecificcheese @soph5547 @beautifuleaglealpaca @nicolebarnes @wwe1rdc0re @multy-fandom-lover @echo9821 @blackhawkfanatic @kat-the-kit @just-pure-trash @shadowlinn @reyy001

[sunniques]

— 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your stepdad goes to great lengths to spoil you.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, somnophilia, cockwarming, masturbation, oral sex (f & m), rimming, face riding, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, cum eating, riding, shower sex, recording during sex, having sex while on the phone, reader can be carried by cheol

➺ WC: 8k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read. thank you @wonustars for beta reading this for me <3

Seungcheol is the first to admit that he spoils you rotten. He can’t really be blamed for it since you were a spoiled princess long before he met you. Technically, it’s your mother’s fault for always indulging you every time you asked for something. He knows she only gave in to compensate for not being around as much as she should have, but now it’s a responsibility he’s happily shouldered.

That’s why when you tell him you want to fuck all over the house with no interruptions, he doesn’t hesitate to make that happen. It's not hard despite there being certain obstacles he comes across.

"I don't understand," his wife's voice wobbles just enough for him to realize she's going to push back. "If you're upset with me, what we need is to talk, not give each other space."

"I need time to think, and I can't do that with you here."

"Seungcheol," his wife's voice is tight with repressed emotion. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not leaving my own house—"

"It's my house," he reminds her coldly. "You're hardly ever here, anyway. I know you'd rather be at work than spend time with me or Y/N."

Your mom flinches because his words are like ice, and because they're true. Still, the selfish part of her can't give him what he wants. Not when it feels like this will make her lose him forever.

"But giving you space for the entire weekend—!"

"Don't raise your voice," Seungcheol hisses, eyes dark and dangerous. "I don't want Y/N to hear."

He won't let her ruin your surprise. He wants to see your face when he tells you that you'll have the entire house to yourselves all weekend long.

Seungcheol doesn't feel bad even as his wife swallows thickly.

"Fine," she whispers, "I'll give you the space you want."

"Good. I want you gone before Saturday."

It's still early when you're gently pulled out of your wet dream by an intense pleasure. Through bleary eyes, you can see the sun still hasn't fully risen. You almost think you're still dreaming until you realize that your pussy being hot and wet is very real. Immediately, you recognize the situation and the pleasure clouding your senses.

You let out a needy mewl when you look down to see a head of hair between your thighs. Arousal rips through you when you realize you're completely naked, sleeping shirt and panties discarded beside your equally naked stepdad. Seungcheol groans into your cunt, pulling back a bit to gently suck on your swollen clit. The quiet whine you let out has his cock throbbing.

"Morning, princess."

"Daddy," you moan as you spread your trembling thighs.

"Shh, baby," Seungcheol gently shushes you while still lapping at your dripping cunt. "Your mom's still sleeping. You don't want to wake her up do you?"

More juices drip from your clenching pussy, and for a moment you wish he had crushed some of those sleeping pills in her drink again. But then again, if she slept in and missed her flight you wouldn't be able to have a cum-filled weekend with her husband like you planned. All you can do is hope she leaves for your grandparents' house soon.

"She's not gone yet?" You can't keep the whine out of your sleepy whisper.

"No," Seungcheol sighs in mutual disappointment before dropping his head back down to keep eating you out.

You toss your head back, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he licks a broad stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit again. He repeats the action before forcing his tongue back into your slick pussy. Your clit pulses with pleasure as Seungcheol slowly eats you out.

"I've been feasting on your little pussy all morning," he hums against you, placing gentle kisses on your soft lips.

"Already got you to cream on my tongue twice."

He sounds so pleased that he got you to cum without waking you. The satisfied smirk on his shiny lips makes you moan and roll your hips into his mouth.

"You like that, sweetheart? Like that your daddy couldn't help himself?" Seungcheol's eyes are dark as he gently nips at your throbbing clit.

You give him a half-hearted nod, mind swimming with pleasure. Seungcheol's tongue smooths over your pussy and runs it up your slit to softly suckle on your clit, getting the sensitive bud messy with his spit. You grind your hips into his mouth eagerly, wanting to put on a show for the dark eyes that are watching you with molten heat.

Seungcheol pulls back, but not without pressing a quick kiss to your throbbing clit. "Roll over for me, baby. I want to try something."

You sluggishly do as he asks, rolling over until you're lying on your stomach. He grabs your thighs and pushes them until you're spread open, glistening cunt on display for him. Your stepdad's groan is guttural and makes you clench around nothing.

"Prettiest fucking view ever," Seungcheol hums to himself, cock throbbing at the erotic sight of you splayed out for him.

Seungcheol's hands grab your ass as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips open. He's quick to dive back into your pussy like a starved man. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching as arousal thrums in your belly.

"God, baby. Love eating this pretty pussy." Your stepdad groans into the wet mess he's created, fucking his tongue deeper into your tight hole.

You try to keep your moans quiet as your hips squirm against the wet tongue spearing you open. The way Seungcheol greedily eats your cunt turns you on even more, and just thinking about what he says gets you even wetter. Feeling his strong hands holding you open as he's fucking his tongue into your clenching hole over and over again is sending you closer to the edge.

You tense slightly when you feel the pad of a finger slide over the furl of your asshole. Seungcheol groans into your pussy making you clench and rock down on the bed. He doesn't move his finger, only rubs it softly back and forth over your asshole.

"Want me to eat this hole too, sweetheart?" Seungcheol pulls back with a wet sound, mouth dragging up to bite your ass cheeks. "All you have to do is ask."

You feel hot all over, loving how fucking nasty he is. How he doesn't hesitate to give you anything you want. All you do is hum, and in less than a second he's spreading your ass until your hole is completely bare for him to see. You wiggle your hips to further entice him. Seungcheol growls as he licks a hot, wet stripe from your cunt all the way to your asshole.

"Daddy!" You cry, pussy fluttering at how much you like it. "More!"

"Don't worry, brat. Daddy's gonna lick you clean," Seungcheol says before he spits on your puckered hole. "I'm gonna eat this cute little ass all morning."

You gasp and moan as he licks over your rim with his hot tongue. The sensation makes you squirm and rock your swollen clit into the bed. While you're distracted by his mouth, he slips a couple of fingers into your empty pussy making you squeal and buck your hips. Seungcheol hums and slowly slides his tongue into your ass, spit dripping down onto his fingers that are scissoring you open.

"Fuck, daddy." You choke out, feeling unbelievably turned on as Seungcheol fucks your ass open with his thick tongue.

He fucks his fingers into your pussy until he's rubbing against your g-spot. You whine and bite your pillow to try and stifle the filthy sounds you're letting out. His tongue greedily licks your asshole open, sloppy wet sounds echoing off your bedroom walls making you drip slick down his fingers. It all feels so good that you wouldn't care if your mom were to walk in on you and your stepdad like this.

You're so lost in pleasure that you almost miss the knock on your door.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Your mom's groggy voice wanders through the door.

Seungcheol groans quietly and buries his tongue past your clenching hole. His tongue fucks deeper into your ass while he fingers your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your stepdad starts to eat you out with more vigor than before. His fingers curl into you, massaging that spot that has you mewling into your covers.

Seungcheol briefly pulls away to whisper his filthy desire. "Cream all over my fingers, sweetheart. Show daddy how much you love having his tongue in your ass."

You can't keep your moan quiet when Seungcheol fucks his fingers into your squelching pussy harder. The long digits brush against your spongy spot until your tight pussy is pulsing around his fingers.

"Y/N?" Your mom sounds a bit more awake now.

You grind your hips into Seungcheol as his tongue slowly laps at the rim of your hole over and over again. The sloppy wet noise fills the room, and you wonder if your mom can hear it. Not that you or your stepdad care.

"I-I'm getting up now," luckily, your fucked out voice can easily be mistaken for fatigue.

"I won't be able to make you breakfast before I go. Make sure you eat something before you go to class!"

She's never made you breakfast—not even when you were in grade school. Instead of pondering on why she was trying to act doting, you give her a shaky okay. All you really care about is the teasing kicks her husband is giving your clenching hole.

When her footsteps fade away, his tongue spears you open again. Seungcheol starts to roughly fuck his fingers into your sopping pussy. It all feels so good that you start to bounce back against your stepdad's mouth and fingers, a preening whine high in your throat. Seungcheol lets out a feral growl and pushes his mouth harder against the furl of your asshole to fuck his tongue deeper into your clenching hole.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy," you mewl softly.

Seungcheol hums and keeps eating your ass, his long fingers massaging your velvety walls. You writhe against your bedsheets, the friction allowing the fabric to rub against your clit. Your toes curl as the stimulation pushes you over the edge. With a muffled wail, you cum hard around Seungcheol's fingers. Your wet walls flutter around his fingers as you asshole clenches around his wet tongue.

Your stepdad pulls away once you come down from your high. He groans lowly in his throat before telling you to stay still. A familiar wet sound fills your ears, and when you look over your shoulder you see him jerking off.

"Gonna cum on your holes." Seungcheol groans, fucking his hand harder.

His fat tip bumps against your spread pussy as hot ropes of cum cover your skin. You moan when you feel him drag the head of his leaking cock up to your asshole to cover it with the rest of his seed.

"So fucking pretty," Seungcheol groans.

You lick your lips and blindly reach for your phone. "Want pictures, daddy."

Seungcheol's grin is devious as he takes your phone and does as you ask. He even gets your permission to take a quick video of your soiled holes. Once he's done, he tosses the phone aside and pulls you up to give you a filthy kiss. You moan into his mouth, knowing this is going to be the best weekend of your life.

"Come on, princess," Seungcheol coos adoringly after you pull away. "Let's go shower."

You lick your lips as your stepdad picks you up and carries you over to the master bedroom. It's thrilling for you, especially because you can hear that your mom is still downstairs. Seungcheol shares your uncaring attitude. He's too busy showering you with affectionate kisses to care that his wife might come upstairs and find you two naked.

The air between you is intoxicating, and you almost feel impatient when Seungcheol gently sets you down on the bathroom counter. You make a move to get off and go towards the shower, but your stepdad is quick to stop you. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, eyes shimmering with arousal and affection.

"Stay there and let daddy take care of you, sweetheart," Seungcheol says before going to start the shower.

He waits until the water warms before picking you up again and placing you under the soothing water. You let out a content sigh and lean against him as the humid air surrounds you both. Seungcheol kisses the top of your head before grabbing a clean washcloth and lathering it up with soap.

Seungcheol is gentle as he runs the sudsy cloth along your body. He takes his time, gently cleaning you while murmuring how pretty you are. You can't help but relax under his gentle touch.

"Cheol," you half moan, half sigh as he presses open mouth kisses on your clean skin.

Your thighs squeeze together when he slowly runs the cloth across your tits. He slowly circles your sensitive nipples over and over until you're mewling and arching into his touch. Seungcheol is quick to discard the cloth and goes to grab your soapy tits.

"Fuck," he groans as he pinches and tugs on your hard nipples. "You have the prettiest tits, baby."

Molten heat invades your senses, the praise making you keen. The way your stepdad is so rough with your nipples has your pussy leaking with a different type of wetness running down your thighs. One of his large hands leaves your soft flesh to turn your head so he can give you a heated kiss. His other hand slowly trails down your body until you feel his fingers swiping across your slit then back up to circle your slippery clit.

"Such a sexy little brat," Seungcheol groans fondly before he hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can watch himself play with your pussy. "Always so ready for me."

You cry out in pleasure when his hand comes down to spank your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your knees buckle, but luckily Seungcheol's arm is tightly secured around your waist. He slowly turns you until your back is against the cool tile. Your eyes follow the beads of water that run down his toned body. The water drip off his thick cock, and you feel white hot arousal consume you entirely.

"Daddy," you whine and reach out for his cock.

Seungcheol smirks and kneels down, ignoring your petulant pout, "Daddy's still hungry."

You clench around nothing as he rubs his large hands along your thighs before spreading them open. His grin is devious as he places wet kisses along your inner thighs. You can't contain your moan as his breath ghosts across your throbbing clit.

"Daddy!" You squeal when Seungcheol finally fucks his tongue into your wet cunt.

Your stepdad groans, the vibration stimulating you further as his tongue slides deeper into your pulsing cunt. It's impossible not to watch him as he messily eats you out, licking and suckling on your sensitive bud. His dark eyes are trained on you, loving the fucked out face you're making.

Seungcheol moans when you grind your pussy into his face. He eagerly laps up your juices, licking and tasing every part of you his tongue can reach. The way he places soft kisses between his licks and sucks make your trembling legs feel like they're going to give out. Your eyes roll back as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole, slurping up every last bit of your arousal.

Seungcheol's cock throbs at the sweet sounds you're letting out. He smirks against your cunt when you arch up and press closer to his pouty lips.

"Gonna cum, daddy."

Seungcheol hums in approval, tongue relentlessly lapping at your clit. "Do it, princess. Cum on daddy's face so he can fill you up."

You cry out loudly and squirt all over his face.

Seungcheol groans in approval and slurps up everything you release. He's smug when fucking you through your orgasm, and he doesn't stop until your legs are shaking. Your stepdad licks his lips and slowly stands, picking you up in the process. He can tell his display of strength turns you on, and it makes his ego inflate.

"Fuck," you mewl when you feel his cock nudge against your pussy.

Seungcheol's gaze is dark as he rubs his throbbing cock along your messy lips. The leaking tip bumps your sensitive clit, making you arch your back and cry out for him. You're so needy and desperate for his dick that he can't make you wait any longer. Seungcheol grabs your ass, squeezing it roughly, before he sinks you down on his aching cock.

"Mmmh, fuck, daddy," your moans come out in a fucked out pants, arms and legs locking around his body.

Seungcheol starts to fuck you slowly, rocking his cock in and out of your pussy at a pace you're not used to from him. Hot water cascades over the both of you, and it makes you feel that much better as your tight walls eagerly suck him in. You feel his cock stretching you out slowly, making you whine into his wet neck.

"Fucking shit, Y/N," your stepdad's groan is guttural. "Tight little pussy feels too good."

It's like you both lose sense of time as Seungcheol slowly splits you open on his cock. The movement of his hips are slow yet deliberate. Every time his pelvis rubs against your clit you see stars. His throbbing tip brushes against the spongy spot inside you, barely kissing your cervix with every precise movement. Molten pleasure consumes you slowly, already making you feel cock drunk.

"Seungcheol?"

Your stepdad's hips stutter at the sound of your mother's voice, but one look at the pout on your face makes him keep going. Especially since you tighten around him at the same time his cock starts to throb and twitch inside you. You two share a filthy smirk, loving the turn of events. It’s so sick and twisted, but both of you are past caring.

"What is it?" Seungcheol calls, slightly annoyed as he starts to bounce you on his cock.

"I– Well..." your mom trails off, sounding completely unsure of herself.

You don't care that it's uncharacteristic of her because Seungcheol starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck. His thrusts have grown rougher, harshly pounding into your squelching pussy. Your eyes roll back as your toes curl. The feeling of your stepdad's veiny cock dragging against your slick walls have you gushing all over him, and the fact that your mom is standing right outside the bathroom door completely unaware only turns you on more.

"I hope giving you the space you want doesn't mean this is the end of our marriage." You can tell she's close to tears as she speaks.

"Cum inside me, daddy," you purr into Seungcheol's ear, wanting nothing more than him to stuff you full.

Seungcheol quietly groans into your neck, feeling your pulsing walls flutter around his cock. His grip on your ass tightens, and he starts to bounce you harder on his aching dick. He hears his wife holding back sobs, but he doesn’t feel bad. Not since he has her daughter’s tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.

"Such a nasty little brat," he hums against your wet skin, hips snapping savagely. "You want me to cream this cute little pussy while your mom is on the other side of that door crying for me?"

You mewl into his ear, pussy clenching around his cock and staining it with more of your cream. Seungcheol grunts, hips moving faster as he fucks into your hole deeper and harder. Your back arches as your cunt spasms around his dick.

"Want it so bad, daddy," you whimper into his ears, nails digging into his back. "Breed this little pussy. Stuff me full and knock me up."

"God damn, baby. You're such a dirty little slut," he whispers against your hot, wet skin. "What would your mom say if she walked in and saw you begging for my cum?"

You whine again, hips rocking into his as his thick cock pistons in and out of your hot cunt.

"What would you tell your wife?" You say through a fucked out giggle. "You'd have to tell her that you're bouncing her daughter on your big cock because you want to put a baby in her."

Seungcheol's deep moan almost drowns out your mother's voice.

"I know you're still mad, so I'll call you when I land. Please take care of Y/N while I'm away."

"Don't worry," Seungcheol growls, loud enough to be heard over the running water. "I'll make sure to take care of her."

You finally wail out in pleasure when you hear the footsteps fade away. Seungcheol savagely rams his cock against your sweet spot over and over until you're cumming hard on his throbbing dick.

"That's it, princess. Make a mess all over daddy's cock. Fuck. I'm gonna fill this cute little pussy all weekend long. Not letting you off my dick until I know you're carrying my child."

Your stepdad spears into your sloppy cunt harder, his leaking tip brushing against your g spot with every thrust. "Fuck, sweetheart. Little pussy feels too good."

With a loud grunt, he pushed his cock as deep as it'll go before thick, hot ropes of cum spurt from his throbbing tip. Seungcheol moans loudly, grinding his cock into your pulsing walls.

You smash your lips onto his, loving the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of you.

The weekend is coming to an end, and true to his word, your stepdad has not let you off his cock. You've fucked all over the house just like you wanted. In the hot tub out back, then in the pool. On the billiards table and in the laundry room. Even on the kitchen counter and the dining room table. Every surface has been stained with you and Seungcheol's mixed releases. It thrills you because it feels like you're marking the house—your house—in the filthiest way possible.

Seungcheol has been especially doting, giving into every single one of your wishes. He even agreed to record the nasty things you do so you can watch it later on. The videos are mainly taken on your phone, but you have to insist that he take some on his too. After all, he should have some memories of the weekend he planned as well.

This is all so wrong. Seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to make himself care. Especially when you look so beautiful underneath him, with your puffy nipples covered in his saliva and your fucked out expression of absolute pleasure. Especially when you moan and whimper the single word that makes him go insane every single time it falls from your pretty lips.

"Daddy!"

Fuck. To have his sweet little stepdaughter in such a filthy way is everything to him. His cock is buried so deep inside of you that he's certain he's in your guts. His teeth graze your neck as you cling to him. "Like this, angel? Like when your stepdad fucks you like this?"

A cute whine escapes you, but you can't answer because you're too far gone. Seungcheol thinks that you may be doing it on purpose for the camera, but either way, he loves it.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels," his whispered voice in your ear makes you shudder.

Your pussy clenches hard around his thick cock, wanting to keep him there forever.

"So fucking good. God, daddy. I'm gonna cum." Again.

You don't know how many times you've cum already, or if you've even stopped cumming. The entire weekend has felt like one prolonged orgasm for you.

You grab his hair and pull his face to yours, looking into his eyes. "Cum with me—cum inside me," you plead, your tongue flicking against his lips.

Seungcheol can't deny you anything. He never has. His hips speed up, his orgasm so close but he needs you to tip over first. The feeling of his stepdaughter creaming and making a mess on his cock is one he'll never get tired of.

"God, you're such a needy little brat," he groans against your lips. Words can't describe how much he loves you. How fucking thankful he is that you love him the same way. "Can't get enough of daddy's cum, hm?"

It only takes a few circles of his thumb on your clit and you're cumming with a loud whine.

"Daddy, please!" Your fingers dig into the skin of his back while you plead with him to fill you up. It's only a few seconds later that you're taking load after load of his thick cum.

"Mm, yes!" You mewl, closing your eyes, savoring the feeling of it.

Seungcheol kisses your lips, not daring to pull out. He doesn't want a single drop to escape.

"You got all of daddy's cum. Is my sweet girl happy now?"

You smile into the kiss as you catch your breath, looking at him adoringly, "Yes, daddy."

Seungcheol licks his lips hungrily and reaches for the phone propped against the nightstand. He points it at your stuffed cunt, groaning when he sees his cum running down the length of his cock and down to his heavy sack. Just as he’s about to end the video, you buck your hips with a needy whine.

“Want more, daddy!”

And so, ever powerless to your desires, Seungcheol positions your phone in the same spot before giving you exactly what you want. He’s not soft like he was earlier—not that you want him to be. You always act like a greedy brat when you want him to be rough with you.

“What a greedy fucking brat!” He punctuates every word with a rough thrust, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your sloppy hole keeps sucking him in.

“Fucking shit. You need it that bad, baby? Need daddy’s cock to stuff you full until you’re dripping in his cum?"

Seungcheol doesn't realize just how badly you do need it. Your hands reach down to squeeze his plump ass, dragging him as far into you as physically possible. “Yes, daddy, yes! Need your cock, need your cum! Need it so fucking bad!”

Your needy moans only drive him to fuck you harder. Seungcheol feels fucking insane. This is undoubtedly the best sex of his life, and he can’t remember ever fucking anyone so passionately. Fuck, you feel so good.

He’s so addicted to your sweet little cunt that he thinks he might go crazy without it. You just have a molten little pussy that’s sucking and wetting his cock so deliciously, dragging his cum right out of his heavy balls, and he’s powerless to it. All he can do is groan and bury his face in your neck as he pulses warm and hot inside you.

“O-oh fuck, baby!” Seungcheol moans against your skin as he spills his thick load inside you. “There you go, princess. Take all of daddy’s cum.”

Your sweet moans sound like heaven, and he has to smash his lips on yours as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy. “Fuck. Such a tight fucking pussy.”

Seungcheol’s heart nearly bursts when you give him a fucked out smile, eyes full of adoration. “It’s all yours, daddy.”

If there's one thing you've come to learn about your stepdad, it's that he's unexpectedly clingy. Honestly, you love that side of him, which is why you can't say no when he asks you to cockwarm him. You're both sitting on the couch with some movie playing softly in the background. Seungcheol is on a business call while you shop online.

All the pretty things you have in your cart are courtesy of your doting stepdad, and as you go to check out, you feel yourself slowly drifting into a peaceful haze. Seungcheol keeps talking, running a soothing hand up and down your back while periodically placing gentle kisses on your head.

You bask in his warmth and the floaty feeling taking over your consciousness. Seungcheol's cock feels so big and thick inside you that it's all you can think about. The delicious stretch it provides is driving you crazy in the best way, and it only gets worse when he trails his free hand down to squeeze your ass. You mewl into his neck, loving this dreamlike state his cock has you in.

"Feel good, princess?"

His soothing voice is like honey, and it has you sighing against his neck, "So good, daddy."

Seungcheol's smirk is smug, "Yeah?"

You hum with a halfhearted nod, still too lost in the feeling of his cock filling you up.

"Spoiled little brat likes being stretched out on this big cock, huh?"

You whine cutely, pussy clenching down on his thick cock, "Yes, daddy."

"Fuck," Seungcheol grunts, pressing his hips up into you further. "I think it's time to fill this needy cunt."

You roll your hips down with a moan of agreement. It's just like him to give you what you want before you ask for it, "Daddy's the best."

Seungcheol's smirk is unbearably attractive as his hands tighten on your waist. He wastes no time in fucking his cock up into your soaking pussy, making sure to go as deep as possible. You come back to life as his big dick hits your sweet spot immediately. With a loud cry you lift yourself off of his chest to take off the large shirt you're wearing. Your stepdad groans when he sees your pretty tits bouncing in his face, cock twitching inside you.

After several skin slapping thrusts, he slows down to deep rolling grinds. His eyes are dark as he reaches for the buzzing phone he discarded just seconds ago.

"Be quiet for me, baby."

Your eyes drift down to the phone in his hand, smirking when you see it's your mom calling. Seungcheol picks up and put it on speaker, setting the phone aside so he can grab your bouncing tits.

"Hello?"

"Hey, honey." Your mom sounds deflated. "How... How are you?"

"Fine," Seungcheol grunts before he starts to thrust deeply into your dripping cunt while pulling and pinching your pretty nipples. "How's things over there?"

Your eyes roll back as you hear your mom go on about how happy your grandparents were to see her. Molten pleasure licks up your spine as you start to meet Seungcheol's rough thrusts. His mouth drops open as your pussy pulses and clenches around his cock.

"How's Y/N?" Your mom asks, but there's something off about her tone.

Immediately, you can tell she's not really interested in what you were up to. It's a tactic to keep him on the phone longer. Not that you care. You know she's not all that concerned since you're an adult and have your own life. It's why she only texted you once after landing.

"She's fine. We spent some time together earlier—just like I promised you." His voice drips with honey as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

You grin impishly as he drills up into your squelching pussy with his thick, heavy cock. Part of you wonders if she can hear the sound of skin on skin or the lewd squelching coming from your stuffed pussy. The thought turns you on so much that you have to tamper down the moan climbing up your throat. You feel like screaming because of how good you feel, and your stepdad just smirks at you like he isn't making a mess of you.

One of Seungcheol's hands slowly trails down your body to where you're connected. His thumb circles your clit slowly, barely giving you any stimulation. You buck your hips and push yourself harder into his hand, ever the impatient brat. He loves it, and yet he ignores your silent plea. Your stepdad stops teasing your sensitive bud and moves his hand to guide your hips into a rolling grind. The other goes to the fat of your ass, roughly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

"Thank you, honey," her tone is love stricken, and you wonder how she could easily fall back into his trap just like that. Part of you finds it funny while the other part of you feels disgusted.

"It means a lot to me that you care for her even when I'm not there."

Seungcheol smirks at you, leaning back to focus on your bouncing tits, "Of course. I have to care for our little princess even when you're not around."

You bite your lip when Seungcheol aggressively thrusts you down on his dick.

"So fucking tight." He hisses through clenched teeth.

"Well I'm grateful, even though I sometimes think she's a little too spoiled."

Both of his large hands are now cupping your ass, helping you bounce on this aching cock. His hungry gaze stares at the way your pretty pussy swallows his cock so perfectly. By now, he's sure your insides are shaped like him, and it just makes him twitch and throb inside you. He's so focused on watching his cock piston in and out of your tight hole that he almost misses his wife's question.

"Honey, are you done thinking now?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer her, instead choosing to spit on your sloppy pussy. You slow your bounces, tight cunt clenches at the action. Your stepdad smirks and does it again. He watches, completely satisfied as you shudder and roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"No," He admits as you start to bounce on his dick again, "I'm still a little angry."

"Really?" Your mom can't hide her disappointment.

Seungcheol nearly loses it when you start to roll your hips sensually, fucking his cock exactly the way he likes it. Your thighs are starting to stick to his from the amount of wetness between you two. With a smug grin, you lean forward to give him a sloppy kiss.

"Let it all out, daddy," you whisper against his lips, "fill my pussy with your cum."

"Seungcheol?"

That annoying voice makes your stepdad fuck you harder, eager to give you what you both want.

"It's going to take some time. Some things don't just go away overnight."

Your stepdad keeps talking to your mom like you're not grinding your needy cunt on his fat cock. It's just making you more wet, and you can feel your arousal dripping down his balls and onto the nice couch. You have no doubt that it'll leave a stain, but that's the least of your worries right now. It turns you on so much to know that Seungcheol is fucking you while he's talking to his wife. You feel like such a slut, but you can't deny how much you like it.

You've never been so wet, and it makes you want to ride your stepdad harder, maybe even get caught. Your pussy spasms and clenches down on him at that thought, making him flinch and bite his lip.

Seungcheol slaps your ass with both hands and cages you against his chest. You muffle your cry of pleasure in his neck as he savagely starts to thrust into you like you're nothing more than a hole. His leaking cock is hitting inside you so deep and hard that it's not long before you cum all over his big cock.

The room smells of sex as he starts to bounce you on his sensitive cock all over again. Loud squelching and quiet whimpers fill the air as your stepdad helps you ride him. One last, milking compression of your silky pussy has him emptying his balls inside you. Seungcheol groans into your shoulder, hips never stopping.

"Okay. I understand," your mom sounds close to tears.

You don’t care. Instead, you start to move your hips to help her husband fuck his cum deeper into your fertile pussy. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his veiny girth turns your skilled movements sloppy.

“Give me more, daddy,” you mewl, batting your eyelashes in that coy way he loves.

Seungcheol raises his body into more of a sitting position and roughly pulls you up and off of his cock. You watch dazedly as his dick drools with the remnants of your orgasm and his cum. You lick your lips at the filthy sight of his wet cock.

“Honey?”

Your mom’s voice sounds distant as her husband positions you over the armrest of the couch. He only hums in response as he slowly slides his fat cock back into your messy pussy. Your mouth drops open at the feeling. Once again he’s stretching you out so good that it has your pussy clenching down on him compulsively.

“Do…” She pauses. “Do you still love me?”

Seungcheol can’t focus on her pathetic words as he slowly starts to fuck your sloppy pussy. He can see the remnants of his cum being pushed out of you as his thrusts start to get rougher. Your warm walls cling to his cock desperately, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

“How could you ask me that?” Seungcheol mocks her dejected tone, though she doesn’t notice. “You’re the one that’s never home anymore. I’m starting to wonder if you still love me?”

It’s sick how good he is at gaslighting, but you don’t feel bad. In fact it turns you on. Like really fucking bad. Your pussy tightens around your stepdad’s cock which makes him angle his hips to have you biting down on the armrest to stifle your filthy moans. He fucks into your sweet spot as pleasure whites out any coherent thoughts you have.

“Of course I do!” Your mom sounds shrill and distraught, so much that she can’t hear how good her husband is fucking you. How he’s splitting you open on the nice couch she picked out when they first got married. “How could you think—?”

“Let’s talk about it when you come home,” Seungcheol says through gritted teeth, eyes focused on how your pretty ass is bouncing back on his pelvis. “You’re upset, and this is a conversation we need to have in person.”

The pathetic okay sounds distant, and you vaguely catch her saying I love you to Seungcheol before he abruptly hangs up the phone without saying it back.

“Goddamn,” Seungcheol groans as disregards his phone, “trying to suck me in, sweetheart? Greedy little pussy needs daddy's cock that bad?"

He pounds into your sloppy, squelching hole when you loudly moan and nod. Your juices are dripping everywhere, and he fucking loves it. The swollen tip of his cock hammers against your g-spot until you’re screaming for him. Seungcheol smirks, knowing you were just waiting to let it all out.

"I fucking knew it," He groans with an endeared laugh.

"Don’t worry, princess. Daddy’s gonna cream this sweet fucking pussy. Get you all dirty so I can eat you out."

You whine and claw at the couch, clit rubbing against the rough material and pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. By now your legs are shaking from the sheer pleasure his big cock is giving you.

"Should I make you squirt on my cock, sweetheart? Get the couch all dirty?"

You start to bounce yourself back on his cock eagerly, "Daddy, gonna cum!"

Seungcheol grins and affectionately squeezes your sides before his hand slips down to your clit. He tugs your hips back just a little and lands a hard spank across your swollen bud. You squeal loudly, body trembling at the mean action.

"Daddy!"

"Oh, I know,” His voice drips with lust, "you know daddy can’t help but be a little rough with your little pussy."

Your stepdad smacks you again catching your clit on his wedding ring making you scream as your orgasm rushes over you. Slick drips around his cock as your cunt clamps down on his dick. You whine and move your hips in tandem with his, loving how intense this one is.

"Fuck!" Seungcheol growls, hips pistoning harder into your fluttering walls.

“Such a good girl. My good little brat—fuck!"

Your cunt milks his cock as he fills you with hot sticky cum. His thrusts start to get sloppy as he spills rope after rope into your hot cunt.

"Take it," he hisses, biting down hard on your shoulder causing you to moan, pussy clamping down even harder on his dick.

You’re crying out loudly from how good it feels, hole still gushing slick from his fat cock bullying into your pussy and cumming deep inside you. This load is the biggest he’s ever given you. Somehow he doesn’t stop cumming. It feels like stream after stream of his hot seed paints every inch of your fluttering walls white.

"Gonna eat you out after this," Seungcheol groans in your ear, "need to get my mouth on your messy little pussy."

You whine as he pulls out, cum and slick oozing from your hole to drip all down your thighs and onto the couch. Without moving you, Seungcheol lays on his back and shifts until he's underneath your splayed legs.

"Sit on my face, baby," he guides your hips down, “let your stepdad clean the mess he made.”

With a harsh tug, your cunt presses down on his awaiting mouth. His nose bumps against your clit as his eager tongue licks into your sensitive pussy. You feel him moan against your wetness, wasting to time in lapping up the cum he’s left inside you. The filthy action makes you rock against his soft lips. You grab onto his hair and start riding his face gently since you're still reeling from your previous orgasm.

"Daddy!" You cry out as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole. "Feels so fucking good! Fuck—mhm."

You trail off with a whine as he sucks on your pussy lips and nips at your clit. He greedily eats all the cum out of your messy cunt. Mewling, you press yourself harder on Seungcheol’s face. He groans gutturally when you settle further onto his mouth. Your stepdad grinds his mouth against your puffy cunt making you whine louder, clit throbbing with arousal. He rubs his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves making you buck into the feeling.

Arousal gushes out of you as your stepdad continues to eat your pussy, and you don’t realize you’re on the verge of another orgasm until you’re squirting all over his face. Seungcheol groans in satisfaction, lapping up every stream that gushes out of your hot little cunt.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Your back arches in a perfect curve as Seungcheol laps up all of your creamy slick.

Of course, Seungcheol only moans along with you and presses even further into your cunt, practically suffocating himself to taste you more. He’ll never get enough of your addicting taste, and you looked back to see his cock hard and throbbing, leaking with so much precum that it looks painful.

When he finally finishes, you don’t let him get up despite the fact that your legs are too shaky to hold your weight. Seungcheol lays back, curious about your next moves. He moans loudly when you crawl down his sweaty body and take his aching cock into your soft hands.

“My turn to have a taste, daddy.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything before you push the drippy tip of his cock past your swollen lips. His loud moan makes your cunt pulse. It makes you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head before licking down the rest of his dirty cock. You can taste yourself, and that just turns you on even more.

"Gonna make me cum in your mouth, sweetheart," he groans, watching your lips stretch around his hard cock.

You keep your eyes on him as you sink your hot mouth on his pulsing cock. He’s so big, too big to fit all of him in your mouth. Not that you care. Sucking him off always gets you so wet. Especially because you can tell how much he loves it.

"Fuck. You gonna swallow the rest of daddy’s cum, baby?" Seungcheol grins at you as you moan around his dick.

“You like that? It’s gonna feel so good, baby. Daddy's hot cum pouring down your slutty throat."

You whine, reaching down to your sore cunt to rub your clit. His filthy words always turn you on so much, and he fucking knows it. You can tell by the way he smirks.

"That turn you on, sweetheart?" He chuckles as you slide his cock deeper into your mouth. Seungcheol pulls out a few inches and sinks back down into you making you moan as he fills your throat.

"Play with that cute pussy. I want you to cum all over your fingers while I fuck your mouth."

You continue to moan as you take his cock further down your throat.

"God, baby, I'm about to cum," his hips stutter, "Be a good girl and swallow every last drop for daddy. Milk my cock just how I like."

Your fingers circle and rub your clit faster until you're moaning uncontrollably around his length. Seungcheol’s eyes roll back at the vibrations he feels on his dick. He moans your name, and that’s all it takes to have you cumming, hole clenching down on nothing as slick drips from your pussy.

With a low groan, Seungcheol eases out of your mouth until you can only suckle on the fat head of his dick. Hot sticky ropes of cum fill your mouth and the back of your throat in the next second. Your stepdad grins when you take his cock and slowly sink it further into your mouth. You moan at the feeling of cum dripping down the back of your throat. Eagerly, you swallow and milk his throbbing cock for all it’s worth.

Seungcheol pulls out of your mouth completely but leaves his swollen tip pressed to your lips, “finish cleaning daddy’s cock, sweetheart."

You press a gentle kiss on his sensitive head before giving it a shy kitten lick that drives him crazy. After he’s satisfied, he pulls you off his cock and sits back on the couch before pulling you into his lap.

Seungcheol kisses you, tongue sloppily licking into your mouth. You moan happily, unable to get enough of him.

"You’re so good for me, baby," your stepdad mumbles after he pulls away, "always such a good girl."

After you’re done, Seungcheol carries you to your room. He cleans you up in your bathroom, tenderly cleaning every part of your body before washing himself. Once he’s done, he makes sure to dress you in your favorite sleep shirt before joining you in your bed.

“Daddy,” you hum as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “love you.”

“Me too, princess,” he hums, arms tightening around you.

“Don’t want this to end,” you say sleepily before finally drifting off into a lovely dream.

Seungcheol hums in agreement, staying up longer to contemplate.

Now that he’s had a taste of what it would be like to have you without anyone getting in the way, he knows he won’t be able to go back. And so, in his deeply twisted mind he starts to plot how he’s going to make that happen. Of course, he’ll have to run his plans by you before attempting anything, but he knows you won’t have any objections.

Seungcheol drifts off to sleep, happily dreaming of a life where it’s just you and him.