#that moment you discover a new kink LOL

[jasperxkuromi]

Regressors that are (bodily) older, please interact!

Later 20s, 30s, maybe even older? I would love to hear from you and maybe even your stories if you don't mind sharing!

I want to meet more people like me and also show others that age regression doesn't just suddenly "stop" at a certain age

Some of us:

Didn't discover regressing/didn't understand their involuntary regression until they were older

Wasn't in a safe space mentally and/or physically to be able to regress the way we want to

Didnt "grow out" of regressing. I think a lot of people outside the community assume we will all grow out of wanting to regress at some point. Maybe some of us will, but some of us won't. Regressing can be a safe and healthy coping mechanism, no matter your bodily age!

And probably many other reasons I can't think of at the moment lol

I would love to get to talk to older regressors, or if there are any groups/discords, I would like to know those too :3

I'm gonna talk about my story a little under the cut, but I don't exactly recommend reading it if you are little right now! I am going to be talking about s3xualization of agere and children's media unfortunately.

I started age dreamer/involuntarily regressing when I was in high school without really knowing what it was. I was really into MLP FiM during its height popularity. I watched the show, collected and played with the toys, did coloring books, took my MLP blanket to school ever day. You get the idea.

I discovered regression here in Tumblr, but this was yeeeeaaars ago, like back when nsfw was still allowed. The line between ddlg and agere wasn't as solid as it is now. Or maybe it was just because I was a kid and couldn't understand better? Either way ... i ended up getting wrong ideas of what agere had to be and ended up scaring myself off. I also had adult roleplayers leaving really inappropriate comments on my posts that made me feel icky. I thought agere had to be s3xual and scared myself off.

We also unfortunately probably know the uhhh .. types of fan art that was popular of MLP. And it just ended up making me lose interest in the series. The stuff was everywhere and it was hard to avoid even if you were vigilant.

I never got a real chance to understand what healthy, voluntary regression was. I still was an age dreamer, but most times when I involuntarily regress it is out of extreme stress and it isn't fun or pretty.

I had a lot of bad things that happened to me last year and in turn I am having more health issues. Chronic conditions I already had getting worse, and new ones popping up. My mom (the one who birthed me) has been helping me a bit, but it has still been a lot of playing adult. Making phone calls back and forth, filling out paperwork, figuring out disability leave, paying bills, etc etc. I started age dreaming more and more often to cope with the stress. Like I randomly one day bought a DVD player and sets of Winnie the Pooh and Scooby Doo DVDs lmfao.

I also never stopped collecting stuffed animals and came back to collecting dolls again last year. It helps that I have friends IRL who I don't think are regressors, but still enjoy collecting with me. (my friends don't know yet, but I think they would be accepting if I told them, or they might already assume I regress tbh)

I have kinda had age regression on the back of my mind for several months, but was scared to look back into it. I was scared of going through the same thing I did back in high school. But also denying I am a regressor and that I still need to heal my childhood wounds was getting heavier and heavier on me. I am sooooo thankful I finally felt safe to begin exploring regression again ♥️😁

Side note: while I absolutely don't care if people do ddlg and similar stuff as a kink/fetish, I am thankful that the distinction between that and agere is more distinct now. It is important we protect minors and other vulnerable people from having the same sorts of things that happened to me (or worse) from happening to them.

[kedsandtubesocks]

blood on your name

Cowboy!Ezra x F!Reader

summary: Texas 1885 - the town’s ranching competition brings in new souls out from the desert, one unfortunately happens to be a ghost haunting you & he’s still as handsome and dangerous as ever

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY. MDNI, old Wild West AU, slight enemies to lovers, very morally!gray Ezra, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy pronouns, one moment of spit kink, allusions to p in v, scoundrel but soft!Ezra, themes of violence & reader enacting violence on another, use of guns, blood & injury, morally!gray reader, time period views of marriage & shaming women (brief use of derogatory terms against reader), minor character deaths, light gender language usage, use of nicknames

word count: 7.2k

a/n: here’s to finally putting my 7th grade tx history lessons to some use plus I’ve been really missing west texas so here we are lol! Fun history fact - Pecos prides itself as the birth place of the rodeo so this competition is the inception of that! It took me a while to get here & this truly wouldn’t be here without @gasolinerainbowpuddles @julesonrecord & @perotovar i can’t thank you babes enough, and to you, if you decide to read this too, thank you so much ♡

The newcomers that blew into town stand around the edge of the fence.

Pecos had become famous for hosting this rope wrangling event, and you’re not surprised it’s brought others in to observe the spectacle. Just last week it seemed like more wagons wandered into the edge of town.

You’ve been living here among the desert’s harsh eyes with your aunt for a few years now. When your mother unleashed her wrath after she found you with an unmarried man who had drifted into town, you fled with the caravan heading out west. So far west it brought you to the Pecos River. You’re thankful your aunt welcomed you with open arms. The desert proved to be a harsh host. But you’ve managed.

The actual event in town wasn’t taking place until the end of the week. Except so many already want to see the cowboys proudly warming up, showing off.

It’s why you even stop on your way home from the tailor shop.

Duke Williams currently tries his hand at practicing. The handsome young star all the way from Austin shows promise while he maneuvers his threadbare rope with ease.

He lands a solid catch against one of the practice sheep running around, and the crowd claps already impressed.

His bright face, angelic almost, brightens when he smiles triumphantly. When he spots you among the on looks, he beams even wider. You smile back politely.

However, Martha, the mayor’s youngest daughter, nudges you.

“I don’t know why you haven’t let that man swoop you up yet?” She giggles with a slight tease however, her words sting.

Duke’s been pursuing you ever since he came into town last spring. He reminds you of a newly built chapel, lovely coated in pristine and full of holy hope.

Yet, you don’t care for him.

You understand you should be married by now. Especially at your age, you’re becoming a dusting antique on the shelf by the town’s whispers. You even understood your mothers anger after discovering the man she caught you with had simply scurried away without another word.

Everyone in town seems to see Duke almost as your god blessed savior on a white horse sent to rescue you from a desolate destitution.

But you don’t hold any sense of attraction towards Duke. Even as you watch how handsome and sturdy he looks, a fierce cowboy among the other competitors, you simply admire his skills. And that’s it.

You wonder if you’re simply destined to the life of a happily secluded cactus like creature.

Something tickles against your skin, a sensation of being hyper aware of being caught in another’s gaze. Living in the desert has brought you a heightened awareness to make sure no critters lurking among can strike you.

So your eyes flicker around and find the crowd still enthralled by the sight of the cowboys.

Until you find one man isn’t.

One of the newcomers.

Sun kissed skin, an absolutely striking hawkish nose, sparse facial hair and then, the deepest dark earth eyes you’ve ever seen stare straight at you. The dusty black cowboy hat he wears casts a strange shadow across his features, cloaking him almost sinister.

Your breath hitches fast like it’s stolen from you.

You know this stranger.

One of the other newcomers nudges against him drawing his attention away from you. But your face stays stuck on him.

The men discuss with each other low and close, clustered together like a pack of desert weeds sprouting fast.

Except after the mystery outsider relays something back to the group, his eyes flicker back to you.

There’s a simmered wildness to him.

The commotion of spurs clinking comes and so many giggle around you, drawing your attention away.

Duke moves towards you with a shining grin on his face.

A desire to scurry away tugs at you. So with a polite smile, you silently duck away and decide to head home.

“Hey! Why ya leaving so soon?” He calls out. “Did you see me?”

His voice is so bright but also, so slightly arrogant, as if he can maybe keep you from leaving.

“Yes, you were incredible.” You’re truthful in your words.

Thankfully the others all around begin greedily vying for his attention.

As you turn to head home, that strange itch crawls over you again. Someone’s watching you.

So glancing around you think it must be Duke, but his attention is preoccupied.

However, it’s the handsome black cowboy hat stranger who again blatantly stares so direct at you.

A moment passes of you simply staring back at him.

However you break the contact first, needing to head home. But the entire way you sense his eyes blazing a hole on your back.

By the time you hit the edge of town towards your aunt’s cabin, the day creeps into early evening.

Above, vultures circle around high. However… there isn’t any sign of decay nearby.

- ☾𖤓 -

Your walk towards the tailor shop passes by the large stretch of land where the cowboys practice. Duke cries out your name excited. Politely you turn to greet him good morning only to find he’s not alone.

Other cowboys of course have come to wrestle in their skills. One of them surprises you.

The man you saw a few days ago is here.

His deep midnight eyes flicker to you immediately. That handsome face of his stays entirely composed.

Duke rattles on about his day. Yet you pay no attention as the new cowboy has stolen all your focus. The black cowboy hat he wears is dusty, weathered, and for some reason, you feel as if it both does and doesn’t suit him.

Duke chirps out your name again. Apologizing, you blame your dazed attention on lack of sleep.

Your night has been restless

“Hope ol’ lady Julie isn’t working y’too hard at the tailor shop.” He grins boyish and charming.

“Oh, Duke.” A smooth twang of a voice floats out. Waltzing in besides the cowboy, the newcomer arrives.

“You didn’t tell me your bird was so lovely.” His voice is curled with a smile and his voice, a deep drawl, draws an acidic venom in your mouth.

“I’m not his bird.” You politely reply.

“Not yet.” Duke adds warm, shy. But that only causes your stomach to squirm even more.

“Name’s Ezra, dear honeysuckle.” The newcomer introduces himself with a tip of his hat.

You nod back quietly giving him your name.

“Ezra came for the competition, traveled all this way just to try his hand at it!” Duke, ever the competitor, explains excited for the new competition.

Your eyes unfortunately stay on the newcomer rider.

Compared to Duke, Ezra’s frame is lithe. Then again, Duke with his incredibly tall stature is built like a terrifying boulder. Ezra’s broad shoulders and his striking sleek build makes you think of a river, fluid yet quietly powerful.

As unfortunately handsome as he is, his frame does not seem like a cowboy’s build.

Instead he reminds you of the traveling con man you once knew.

Duke continues rattling on and on about how proud he is to show off the town and this event.

You however hate the way Ezra’s eyes still on you make your skin tighten.

Excusing yourself with a soft nod, wishing them both well, you return on your way to the seamstress. Your body burns the entire way.

The day goes by slowly at the shop. After working on a few ruined blouses, Julie, the elderly shop owner, keeps you busy with tidying up. When the sun starts setting, the door clings open, and you wonder who’s coming in so late.

Ezra saunters in, and your throat tightens.

“Welcome in, newcomer!” Julie greets with a grandmotherly grace. “What can we do for you, good sir?”

Ezra smiles with all the charm of a gilded cactus.

“Seems I am in need of a new stitch for these gloves of mine.” Ezra explains pulling out worn gloves.

Leather frayed along the straps speak of the weathered and worn attention they’ve been given. But they seem too big for his hands. You even swear you’ve seen them before on his old business partner. But you don’t want to think too much on it.

Good dear sweet Julie chatters with the man. You simply stay quiet, not even turning to greet or address him.

You don’t even work on his gloves, deciding to let Julie handle them.

You even hide out in the back room, not even listening to when Ezra leaves.

Julie ends up heading home, and you’re left to close up. The sun sets a dusty fading apricot against the shadow of the tailor shop.

As you pass by the alleyway, suddenly you’re handed into the dark shadows. You’re about to scream, maybe even yelp, until a hand goes flying across your face, silencing you.

“Now now, pidge, don’t need you making too much of a holler.” Ezra.

Anger seethes in you, boiling. Violently and with a harsh yank, you tear yourself away from his grasp. You’re almost tempted to storm away.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be graced by your beauty again. That mother of yours still got that shotgun she threatened me with?” He smoothly asks with the amount of dangerous charm a rattlesnake would carry.

“What? This your last attempt at selling that watered down snake oil you call elixirs and tonics?” You snap back razor sharp.

When you first met Ezra, which now feels like lifetimes ago, he was a smooth talking traveling salesman. A drifter, as your mother so harshly called him.

Instead of the cowboy hat he wears now, he looked more stately in his bowler type cap.

He charmed so many of the women in town, trying to sell them the secrets to youth, vitality, beauty, and anything else he could promise in his elixir vials. You however, were not interested, saw right through his ruse.

Though, you realize now you were just as foolish as the others in town rapidly buying his lies. Because you had been just as charmed and fooled as they were.

This man, who’s sharp wit intrigued you, who spoke to you as an equal, became so dangerous because you were willing to give him everything.

Your heart, your body - all of you should have been reserved for your husband. Instead you freely gave everything to this thief.

The swindler swore he would take you with him, make you his wife. But when your mother’s fury came, he fled like a petrified jackrabbit.

You suppose he is more coyote than jackrabbit, greedily stealing anything he can then sneakily moving on.

Ezra’s composed grin on his face flickers, like all the history resting between you and him resurfaces within him.

“Didn’t you hear, pidgeon? My elixirs were plundered. Even my poor partner, god rest his dear soul, was shot down in cold blood!” Ezra explains with sorrow.

You had heard about that. At the edge of town, on the dirt road leading out into the hills, one of the sheriff’s found the large carriage and Ezra’s associate dead. The carriage crashed, run off the road. The damage screamed of the work of bandits. However, Ezra was nowhere to be found.

“I’m just supposed to believe you miraculously made it out of there alive?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

You don’t want to say it, but your instincts twist dangerously in your stomach. You wonder if Ezra did the deed himself, killed his partner and took the valuables.

Ezra shrugs sheepishly.

“That’s the way the desert works, honeysuckle. It’s a harsh landscape that only protects those who can survive its wrath.”

You forgot how much he spoke like a preacher sometimes, so elevated and otherworldly. You hate how badly your heart races just being this close to him again, hearing his voice again.

“So you’re telling me you came all the way here just to try your hand at the competition? Never even seen you ride, much less thrown a rope. Can’t imagine a con-man like you being a cowboy.” You reply skeptical.

He barks a laugh. “You'd be surprised. I’m a man composed of many unrevealed talents.”

You knew that very well.

Cautiously, treading like he’s approaching a mountain lion, Ezra steps closer to you. Out of instinct you step backwards closer to the other shop beside the tailors.

“Now don’t tell me you’re pondering the idea of telling everyone about my past life, pidge?” His voice is low, calm but brewing like an approaching storm.

“Because it pains me just imagining the repercussions that could arise if ya did.” He mutters, and your throat gets tight.

There's an underlying threat below his words.

Fiercely, stubbornly, you glare at him, refusing to speak. But you know you won’t say anything. He must know it too. You’ve left your past far back at home. And you don’t want him reviving your ghosts either.

Suddenly the back of Ezra’s hand gingerly, barely touching your skin, grazes against your cheek. He whispers out your name.

“The years out here have made you bloom, like a beautiful desert petal.” He mumbles with hazed eyes.

Out of spite you snap your face away and scowl even harder at him.

“I have to get home.” You snap angrily, managing to finally remove yourself from him.

“The motel houses me for the time being,” he declares from behind in the shadows.

“Unless that blonde Galahad cowboy of yours is keeping your bed warm now?” Ezra adds almost amused.

Rage bursts a furious fire in you, and it consumes you in its heated path.

“Rot in hell.” You snarl whipping back to him.

“As long as you keep me company, beautiful.” Ezra replies coy.

You’re about to curse his soul when he stomps towards you, fast and steady. His hand flings to your face, pulls you back to the shadow of the tailor shop.

He kisses you with the fierce intensity of a sudden dust storm. It even shakes your soul, spins you around, as if you were caught in an actual twister.

He tastes like the faint hints of a cigar, but something still so deliciously sinful and him. Your knees want to buckle when he easily slips his tongue inside and immediately coaxes his against yours.

You whimper, don’t even realize he’s maneuvered you to the wall of the shop, until your back gently hits the cool wood building.

It’s like your body is imprinted to his, completely answering his call, willingly and wanting to be closer to him while your hands clutch at his broad shoulders.

His body pins you firm against the building, and already he grinds his hips into you.

Then the laughter nearby bursts the bubble, snaps your attention clear.

You scramble and rapidly shove Ezra away. You don’t say another word and simply walk away.

However your lips continue to sting, as if bitten by a bee. Your hands ache empty like they’re missing the presence of his body in their grasp.

You can’t fall for this trap again.

But by the time you arrive back home, greet your aunt warmly, the lie spills from your lips before you can stop it.

“Julie wants to start the inventory sooner. So I’ll be heading back and staying over at the shop.”

Your aunt doesn’t question you, simply grins sweet and wishes you a safe trip back to town.

The sun barely sets in for the night over the horizon. The sky is a dusty blue, the softest color before bleeding into a dark midnight. The desert at night is another creature entirely. Even as you walk into town, you try to stay aware and low from any curious eyes.

The motel approaches fast. The caretaker gives you a curious look but before he can, he’s called away.

Ezra already waits for you at the top of the stairs, hidden in the shadows but still so distinct among them.

He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t even greet you. His presence seems so different with how intense he stares at you. Simply moving to intertwine his hand with yours, he guides you to his room. Inside it’s like the world melts away. It’s only you and him.

He devours you, ravenous, like trying to both make up for lost time and also feel like not a day has passed. Your hands run through his hair, knock off his cowboy hat.

You hate how badly you’ve missed this, missed him. He’s the only man your body has known, and the nights you’ve ached for him your fingers never did him justice.

When you’re bare among his bed, and his fingers slide into your wet core, you whine against his lips.

“This cunt still mine, pretty girl?” He asks mutter.

You wearily nod then all thoughts shatter when he rubs against that certain spot you can never reach. Your body crashes in a climax so shakily fast you have to catch your breath against him.

Ezra kisses the top of your head over and over.

“That’s my sweet peach,” he says in awe.

You greedily now pull him towards you, aching even more for him to be inside.

But he’s not finished with you. Ezra greed swallows your sigh before his lips move down your bare body to your core and kisses you with reverent devotion.

Your body melts into the sheets feeling his tongue trace paths among your wet cunt.

Ezra firmly calls your name. It sounds like your soul is being brought back. Wearily you sit up to see him peering up at you between your legs. Slowly he lifts himself away from your cunt, his face glistening with your arousal.

Those obsidian eyes of his blazing in the candlelight lock you in their gaze. Keeping eye contact with you he suddenly spits down to your wet aching sex, and your mind spins.

It’s obscene, you should be disgusted and horrified. You even wonder if you’ve been transported to the brothel a few ways down the road. But it feels absolutely divine especially when he does it again.

“Oh she likes this.” Ezra coo’s then presses ever the softest kiss against your soaked throbbing pearl. “This pretty little cunt, my lovely lady, ache for me huh?”

You don’t argue with him. You don’t want to. He makes you come again and a creature raw and hungry awakens in you. You claw at him, now needing him inside.

It’s like a piece of yourself returns when Ezra slides into you. It’s hot, heavy, frantic but feels sacred.

Ezra must sense it too, because he doesn’t last long. When he spills over your tummy, his hands become claws and keep you caged in his grasp. Your con artist kisses every inch of you he can.

Sweaty and tangled in him, you still feel a tinge of sadness creep in.

“You left me.” You whimper against his lips.

“And it will haunt me until my dying breath.” Ezra sighs back, his voice weighing heavy. “I was planning to come back for you, my bird. But your mother…”

She had put a bounty out on your drifter, managed to get the sheriff on her side. You knew even in your anger at Ezra leaving, it was smart of him to escape.

His hand cradles your face, and his thumb strokes your cheekbone. Those endless eyes shimmer in the low light.

“But I’m here now, pidge.” Sincerity radiates from him.

You’re now able to bask in his beauty - his gorgeous jaw, his beautiful nose, the striking streak of blonde hair that has been hidden under his hat and you’ve been dying to see.

You nuzzle your face into his palm.

“What are you doing here? Truly?” You ask.

“I told you,” Ezra says, drawing your face towards him to kiss you tender again. “I’m here to try and prove myself victorious.”

You’re not sure you believe his words.

But you end up staying with him. Early morning, before the sun reaches over the desert, his fingers trace your face waking you up.

“Dawn bathes you in her glory.” He mutters. Embarrassed at his words you burrow your face into the pillow.

He doesn’t chase you, but instead lets his fingers draw aimless shapes against your shoulder.

“There wasn’t a day where you did not occupy my mind, even after all these years.” Ezra admits low, as if he didn’t realize those words escaped him.

Slowly you turn towards him and discover those deep eyes hazed over staring at you.

“I hate you.” You tell him without any malice. In fact an emotion something very opposite of hatred soaks your words.

“I know. I’d hate me too.” Ezra agrees muttering then leans down to kiss you gingerly.

You have to leave before the town wakes up, and to seal your alibi.

With a final kiss goodbye, you head to the tailor shop.

Julie finds you in the shop when she arrives and applauds you for your diligence and wanting to get a jump start on inventory. You’re thankful the lie worked out this way. You even manage to convince her to let you finish inventory the rest of the week. Of course she happily agrees.

Ezra drops by to pick up his riding gloves and winks at you shamelessly. You roll your eyes but hate how badly you fight against a grin.

The next few days are spent between the shop and the motel. You already brace your heart for Ezra’s departure approaching once the tournament is over, but you try not to face that.

“You’ve been in a rather good mood.” Your aunt notices when you stop by to drop off goods for her.

“Thought you hated inventory.” She comments.

“Guess not.” You reply with a shrug.

This blissful cloud you’re walking in however does cloud your mind. It makes you sloppy. Instead of taking the longer path to the motel, the one that kept you away from the views of the main road and town, you walk straight into town.

Running right into Duke Williams.

He says your name bright and clear. Dread dawns on you fast.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round. Heard Julie’s got ya working extra hard.” Duke smiles.

You hate this small town and the small whispers that spread like wildfire.

You reassure Duke you’re fine and are even glad you can help Julie.

All his friends, in their sleek cowboy hats, and dusty spurs, stand off to the side snicker. They crowd around each other like an ominous pack of wolves.

One of them even calls your name.

“Might wanna enjoy this freedom while it last!” He proclaims, and your stomach twists.

The other guys snickers, shushing him playfull, and even Duke turns around to reprimand him.

“What does he mean by that?” You cautiously question.

Duke simply waves the conversation off instead offering to walk you to the tailors.

You politely decline.

“Aw come on, sweet thing like you shouldn’t be walking alone at night.” Duke smiles but even with his sweet eyes you’re reminded of a crocodile now.

“Well gentleman, that’s why i’ll accompany this lovely bird to her destination.” Emerging from the shadows Ezra grins warm.

He must have come to find you after you hadn’t shown up at the motel.

The men including Duke go eerily silent. Ezra is older than Duke and the younger men. So he holds seniority now. But besides that, Duke now seems wary, and you don’t blame him. Ezra is a man that radiates a sort of unpredictable energy.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk ya back now?” You almost appreciate the slight genuine worry leaking into Duke’s voice. But shaking your head you move to walk with Ezra by your side.

You do hate how all eyes are on you, even walking away from Duke and his mindless followers.

“Just remain calm.” Ezra mutters.

You do especially with him by your side. By the time you open the tailors you thank Ezra, worried Duke and his men are still watching.

You whisper for him to meet you behind the shop, and he does. Your swindler willingly steps into the back room with you.

“Not my ideal choice for our evening, but I do love a good change of scenery.” Ezra comments amused browsing around the storage. Playfully, you throw a ball of yarn at him.

You’re surprised he even helps you with the small bit of inventory you do.

“That young buck…” until his voice comes out low. “He’s fond of you.”

“Unfortunately.” You reply back unamused.

“Earlier at the saloon…he was boasting.” Ezra continues with the same serious tone.

“About enjoying the last days of being an unmarried man.”

That causes you to pause.

“Must mean he’s gotten over me.” You sigh, thank goodness.

“No pidge…” Ezra stops to turn towards you. “He was proclaiming how you were to be his bride.”

Your stomach drops.

You think of the way the boys just now snickered almost knowingly, and that strange comment one of themselves said -

All of it makes your stomach sick, and you have to sit down.

No. There was just no way.

“I’d never accept his proposal.” You snap out hating how badly your body feels frantic, almost skittish like a cornered road runner.

Ezra kneels before you rubbing your hand with his, a strange solid comfort.

Eventually he gathers you into his arms and calms you with soothing soft words.

“We’ll figure out a solution.”

You still don’t know if you can trust his words. But that's all you have. Your drifter stays with you overnight in the tailor shop. You even feel sinful fucking him in the back room but it’s deliciously sinfull all the same.

Sitting and resting against the work desk you fade in and out of sleep. Tender fingers brush against your fingers, ghost like. Ezra is gone by the time you wake up and Julie’s entering the shop jolts you awake.

Her eyes are frazzled.

“Did you hear? Mister Johnston’s eldest son was shot down early this morning.”

You hadn’t heard. Dread fills you fast when you realize Johnston's boy was the one who had made the joking comment to you last night.

There’s talk about postponing the competition. But others in town, especially Duke, argue to continue the tradition in a way to honor the fallen young man.

An ominous terror looms in you.

Later that night, you return to the motel. Too many thoughts swarm in your head, and Ezra even seems distant. He even slides his duster jacket one before kissing you.

“I have some personal matters to attend to, pidge. Get some respite here.”

His boots echo down the hall and then down the stairs.

You can’t sleep. So you move to slide open the window and let some of the night air in.

The faint mutter of discussion very close outside in the alleyway floats into the room.

It’s muffled at first, but once you step closer and concentrate, you pick up the very familiar cadence of a certain drifter.

“No no, I have it covered. As long as you make sure to double the bets on me tomorrow.” Ezra explains in a hush.

The others with him explain the different amounts they’ve collected, and it hits you.

He’s gambling on the competition.

That’s why he’s here.

You knew the men at the saloon often bet, but this feels heavier.

A new clicking of spurs arrives.

“Y’know, you fellas look like a dangerous bunch all here hidden in the shadows.” Duke.

Panic prickles all over your body.

“Now young buck, we’re just here partaking in a fun and friendly wager.” Ezra with his smooth talking skills deflates the tension easily.

“Waggerin’ on what?” You’re surprised Duke immediately quickly jumps in to gamble.

Ezra and the other men begin conspiring on how to make sure Duke wins to favor the odds of their bets.

“I like the sound of that.” Duke grins.

He makes a hefty wager on himself to win, the price even makes someone whistle.

They offer to place their wagers on him as well and with Ezra even in the competition, he’s argued to be an even better reassurance that the outcome falls in their favor.

Ezra even swears by this.

They’re fixing the match, going to cheat. You don’t know how to feel about any of this.

They end their discussion, and you quietly slide back into bed. Before long Ezra returns, the smell of tobacco and the cold air lingers in the room.

His fingers dance against your shoulders while your back stays to him.

“You’re only here… to make money, and cheat.” You mutter hollow.

His fingers stop.

“You overheard.”

You don’t reply to him. Ezra sighs.

“Indeed I am. But I’m no different than the gentlemen that place simple wagers on a game of horseshoe.” He explains low, under the whisper of the candle flicker.

“But it’s like you’re wanting to play with a weighted or lighter horseshoe.” You argue back.

“Is it not in our best natures to make sure Lady Luck favors us by any means possible?”

You don’t know how to reply to him.

“…I’m doing this for you, for us.” He adds.

You turn to him, your face scrunching up in fury.

“Bullshit.” You tell him.

“Believe me a liar, but I’m honest in my endeavor.” His face becomes a firm steeled frown.

You can’t look at him anymore, turning your back again to Erza in bed.

“My hope was to gain enough funds to pay for the bounty your mother placed on me, return for your hand, and make our way into a new life together.” His voice is steady.

“Unless you wish to stay here and wed that Duke.” He offers.

You whip back to glare harsh at Ezra.

There’s a silence heavy and ancient like the desert that settles between you. But it doesn’t last long before Ezra leans down and sweeps in to capture your lips

The discussion dies immediately as passion burns in its place.

You don’t think of gambling cowboys, or of your mysterious drifter, only of the moment consuming you now, and you almost pray you never leave it.

- ☾𖤓 -

Late in the night, wearily half sleep, the bed shifting jolts you awake, and you even hear the door creak open. Before you can ask Ezra if he’s alright, your eyes so sleepy flutter close for a moment. Then he’s sliding back into the warmth pulling you close into his arms. You fall right back to your dreams.

In the early hours of the morning, Ezra kisses your jaw.

“My lucky charm, are you going to observe our tournament today?” He mutters.

The competition was today.

“You nervous?” You had never seen him ride much less try ranch hand work.

“Never.” He says smoothly.

Eventually he slides out of bed and lets you get ready. But soon Ezra walks over and places something in your hands.

The pistol weighs heavy, cold. And your eyes snap open wide now fully awake.

“Why-”

He cuts you off gently. “You know how to fire, yes?”

You nod weakly.

A small smirk tugs at his handsome lips. “Figured as much, after seeing your mother.”

It’s an attempt to tease, but too much terror bubbles in you.

“I just need to know you’re protected.” Ezra reveals, but with a croak you ask why.

“Cause unfortunate as it might be, it’s even more dangerous for a criminal like me to cherish something.”

Your eyes water. There are too many questions in your head, but the day will be starting soon. You need to leave before you’re spotted.

“Tell me you have another gun.” You snap at him.

Ezra simply taps the side of his head. “Don’t need another firearm when I have this weapon.”

You angrily throw the pistol down back to the bed, refusing to take it. That’s when he snaps your name, hard and serious.

You’ve never heard his voice raise like that.

“Take it.” He grabs the firearm and hands it back to you. His midnight eyes are ominously serious with no room for argument.

His hand grabs your face firm in his hand. Your eyes search his endless midnight lake eyes.

“I call you pidge, my little pigeon bird. But I’ve known right from the start you’re a fierce creature. Don’t ever forget that.”

Ezra’s words are beautiful but barbed. They rip up tracks in your heart. He kisses you quick, fierce and short. You hate how it feels like a goodbye.

With shaking hands and confusion, you slide the gun into your satchel. You walk back to your aunt's cabin in a daze. So much so that you barely notice she’s already awake when you sneak back in.

“You have fun at the motel again?” She asks, and fear freezes you.

“I wasn’t-”

“Mac, your uncle’s good friend, gave me the heads up.” She cuts you off softly.

Mac, the innkeeper. God damn this small town. Venom, anger, indignation, they all swirl violently in you.

“Whatever you’re doing there, you’re only gonna find danger.” She says somber, and you stay quiet.

Your aunt sighs.

“You’re lucky this hasn’t gotten out yet. What would young Duke say if he found out?”

Frustration bursts in you, and you snap furious about why would you even need to care about that man’s opinion of you.

“Because he plans on weddin’ you, and I plan on letting him.” Your aunt fires back and her words shoot right through you.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, even have to steady yourself against the nearby chair.

You thought your aunt understood. She’s been alone, a widow since she was around your age, longer than your mother had been a widow. You thought she’d never fall into the trap of forcing marriage.

“It’s for your own good.” She argues, watery urgent m. “You need protection, a home, a husband to provide for you.”

You rush out of the house even ignoring the screams from your aunt.

You’d have to think of a plan fast. Maybe leave with Ezra once the competition ends today. It’s all too much. You swallow back a sob and walk back into town.

The competition was today after all.

The day at the shop is very short. Julie doesn’t even notice your somber atmosphere as she’s completely caught up in the excitement of this day. So many more wagons stretch around the edge of town.

Pecos flutters alive with life.

But there’s already commotion, a dangerous kind that chokes the competition tense.

Duke yells loud and furious. The sheriff along with his deputies are nearby. Thankfully you spot Martha and quickly move to ask her what’s going on.

“Duke’s horse is missing.” She whispers.

From what Martha says, when Duke went to the stables this morning the gate was open and his horse was nowhere to be seen. His trusty companion, you even knew how serious an issue this is.

“Well young buck, if you’re that upset then maybe you shouldn’t partake in the festivities.” Ezra, out of thin air, offers.

He looks confident as he strolls up.

“Or you simply ride with another mare?” He proposes with a coy optimism.

“Fuck you!” Duke snaps at Ezra and even looks as if he’s going to lunge.

Your heart hammers hard in your chest. Thankfully the sheriff settles the commotion down.

Angered but stubborn, Duke declares he’s staying to compete and will simply use another horse. He is favored to win after all.

Other cowboys from out of town have blown in like packs of tumbleweed. So many of them are excited to participate and try their hand at showing off their rancher skills

Some are good.

But it is Ezra who proves to be the dark horse, the surprise underdog.

Watching him on his stallion, your throat goes dry seeing how effortless and strong he manages his horse. You never knew he could ride. The way he maneuvers and stays a quiet presence, he reminds you of an outlaw.

“Moves like a bandit.” Someone in the crowd even whispers.

His rope throwing skills however surprise everyone, including yourself. The calf he manages to wrangle takes you by shock. A dangerous lust slithers over your body watching him wrangle the animal with his strength and sturdy form.

But you realize -

This wasn’t what had been planned. From the discussion given last night, Ezra was meant to perform poorly to make sure Duke did better.

But this is exactly the opposite.

He’s the lead runner for champion of the competition.

And then Duke’s turn arrives. The crowd mummers curious, on edge waiting for the favored cowboy to make his move.

The horse he uses is not cooperative. Duke screams, unable to hide his frustration in wrangling the creature.

But once he stabilizes a manageable ride, he goes to lasso the calf. His rope lands and the crowd cheers. He’s already faster than Ezra.

Until the frayed rope snaps and the calf yanks itself free.

The crowd gasps.

It’s not an immediate disqualification, but it doesn’t look good. Duke argues that his rope was frayed and that someone must have slowly started cutting at it. However it’s a long shot argument. There’s no way to prove that and even the sheriff seems a little wary of the accusation.

“That’s just the way rope is son, you just gotta keep an eye on it.”

Duke screams in anguish canyon splitting anger. You’ve never once seen him like this. It’s like it’s a whole new man, or maybe, his true self being revealed.

He’s offered another rope, but it’s almost horrifying to watch that one as well snap. The crowd again gasps.

This wasn’t the outcome meant to happen.

“Duke’s cursed.” Someone mumbles.

The crowd is in disbelief, you even are. The last remaining competitors try their luck, but none can beat Ezra’s speed.

You can’t believe it. But he won.

And Duke is livid. The crowd tentatively applauds Ezra’s win because of the somber mood clashing.

“You bastard! You goddamn cheated!” Duke screams at Ezra while the deputies try settling him down.

“Poor boy,” Ezra says sympathetically before turning to find you in the crowd.

There’s a gleam of something proud shimmering in his dark eyes.

You don’t question it, don’t want to.

Ezra truly is a man of many facets, dangerous ones, like looking at a raw gemstone that could cut your fingers.

The competition spills into the nearby saloons, and the festivities only seem to intensify as the sun starts setting. You can’t even reach Ezra from the groups swirling around him and want to get as far away from Duke as possible.

So you return back to the tailor shop. Julie urges you to join her and the other women at the mayor’s large property, but you decline.

You simply sit in the store trying to muster up a plan. But in a blink, the night arrives and you have to find Ezra.

So after locking up the shop, you head to the motel.

Until the sound of Duke’s screaming and the rage of violence roars nearby.

You freeze, terrified.

Until someone wearily coughs. “That’s what ya get for gamblin’ with bandits, boy.”

Your swindler’s distinct twang drawls smug and now your body rushes to the secluded alleyway.

You swallow back a scream at the sight you stumble upon. Duke with blood fists has Ezra pinned against the wall, like a mythological creature, terrifying and large looking over with violence in his wake.

Ezra’s face is bloody and one of his arms even hangs limp.

“Pidge.” He coughs, and your heart aches.

Duke whips around to see you and barks for you to leave.

Shakily you snatch down to your bag, and whip out the gun to point it to him. Duke’s face falls a bit confused.

“Honey this man wronged me, I’m only enacting my justice.” He argues.

You snap at him to let Ezra go or else.

That’s when a sinister evil darkens Duke’s golden boy face.

“So, ya little god damn whore…you’re workin’ with this man aren’t ya? I knew I should’ve listened to all the rumors about a slut like you.” He spits with venom leaking from his voice.

“Don’t you touch her.” Ezra snarls, but Duke pays him no mind keeping his sinister eyes on you.

“What?” Duke slowly mutters. “Do ya really think you’re gonna shoot me?”

Tears fill your eyes. You don’t want to, but the way your heart races like a terrified Jack rabbit it screams at you to flee. But… you also wonder if your heart races because it’s urging you to attack, to bare your fangs.

Instead of releasing Ezra, Duke moves to grip his coat harder. He slams your drifter hard and fast against the wall. A painful crack-like smack comes, and you scream.

You fire the gun instantly.

Duke blinks, you even wonder if you landed a hit.

Until deep dark crimson, almost the color of dark sludge, leaks across Duke’s side. He crumbles like a fall leaf.

You cry scrambling to Ezra who thankfully is still standing. Duke wheezes out obscenities and even tries hollering for help. You’re however too worried about Ezra.

“M’fine,” your drifter reassures with a wheeze.

“Hand me the gun, dearest.” Ezra somberly mutters. When you do, without hesitation Ezra fires the gun point black down at Duke. And your eyes shut hearing the pistol strike. Duke goes quiet and stays silent.

“Come on, we gotta hurry.” Ezra urges.

Supporting his body, you manage to get him into the tailor shop to tend to his wounds.

Ezra coughs out your name. “M’dearest, I need to make my escape out of town once more.” His breathing his heaved, he needs to rest.

“Don’t leave me.” You cry sharp, unable to focus on anything now.

His hand slides to your face and he cradles you tenderly. You clutch at his wrist as you blink back tears starting at him now.

“It will not be a pleasant life, staying with a devil like me.” He mumbles.

Doesn't he realize, you’re just as tarnished as him now? Blood is on your hands. You simply turn to kiss the palm of his hand feeling more reassured than ever.

“I’d rather be with the devil than live without him.” You speak soft into his skin while tears dry on your cheeks.

He barks a hollow but watery thick laugh as he says your name. “You foolish bird, my lovely dangerous creature.”

The desert is unforgiving to those who do now learn to grow fangs or become just as fierce as its landscape. You wonder if that’s what has become of you. But you don’t question it. You simply gather all you can, steal one of the horses from the saloon and keep Ezra close to you on the saddle.

If Ezra is a devil, then you’re grateful he saved you from your hell. And for him, you will gladly stain your soul.

Under the eternal eyes of the desert, you wander into the night keeping your bandit close to you.

In the distance a lone coyote howls aching at the moon.

You don’t look back once.

[suskz]

Guess who’s back~

hello my lovely angel <3

I was gonna recommend anonymously again but we need the pic.

so. Remember when chan broke us with this:

I was thinking about what if chan, like, handcuffed you to the bed? Being all rough and shit. Yep. I’m ill lol. So I was just wondering if you weren’t too busy if a fic/drabbles on the table? have a good day/night

remember to eat and drink water💕💕💕

Hi sweetie ♡

Need to say that rough sex with Chan has me on my knees 🛐

I’m sorry that it took so long for it to be finished. I rewrote ur ask like 3 times cuz I didn’t like the way it was coming out lol.

Then I found the right idea, but I’m not totally satisfied with how I wrote it in some parts. Still hope you like it!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

pairing: Bang Chan x fem!Reader

w/c: 2,5k

tw: smut ; rough sex ; dirty talk ; degradation kink ; praising kink ; choking ; handcuffing ; established relationship ; clit play ; it’s not specified, but there are safe-words between them, anyway reader doesn’t use any of them ; bruises.

When you see them, your eyes cling to the shiny pink metal you just found at the bottom of your boyfriend’s closet.

You take them and you turn them over in your hands, observing them carefully. It’s part of the toys he’s used in the past, just not with you.

Your relationship is quite new, and you haven't really discussed your sexual preferences yet. In fact, you're still discovering them, being new to your first romantic relationship. But the way your heart beats faster, your cheeks flush, and you feel a certain tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach at the images that come to mind at the thought of what he might do with those handcuffs, it leaves you with some questions.

But when you hear his voice calling you, you realize you've paused too long. You place them back in their spot and pick up the light white blanket he asked you to retrieve, which had been covering the heart-shaped handcuffs you've just discovered.

When you return to the living room, he’s putting the movie on TV. After cuddling up on the couch, with him half-lying down and you on top of him, covering yourselves with the blanket, he makes it start.

But you can't focus on it because of your previous discovery. Your desire to try it is so high. You think it's time to try introducing something new into sex, and that could be a good start. The only thing left to do is to ask. If only it were that simple.

"Channie…" his name escapes from your lips before you can rethink.

"Mh?" he directs his attention to you without taking his eyes off the TV.

Only when you raise your head to look at him does he do the same, locking eyes with yours.

"Well..." you say, unsure, "I found a c-couple of handcuffs under this blanket, in your closet," your voice comes out more stuttering than you want it to.

"Oh," he says surprised; he doesn't remember leaving them there, "I must have left them there by mistake, I'll put them back in place another time; thanks for telling me, I guess," he observes you closely, "Is there something wrong?".

"Uh... well," there's a small moment of silence, and finally you find the courage to tell him, "I thought we could try them." you take your eyes away from his, looking down, and you're thankful that there's no light in the room other than the one emitted by the TV because you feel your cheeks and ears start to burn.

The movie is long forgotten, and you expect questions from him, but he simply nods. He places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head so you can look him in the eyes, "Do you want to try now?".

"I mean, if you want to...".

"I want it," he replies immediately, "Now, be a good girl and go to the bedroom to undress while I tidy up here, okay?"

You nod quickly and head to the bedroom. You hear some noise in the living room and figure Chan is rearranging things while waiting for you to be ready for him.

You get rid of your pants and shirt, remaining only in your underwear, since you're not wearing a bra. You wonder if you should also take off your panties, but then you remember how much he enjoys touching you over them and seeing them get wet for him, so you keep them on.

You take the handcuffs from the closet and place them on the bed next to where you sit cross-legged, waiting for him.

And a few minutes later, you hear the door of the room open and you raise your head in his direction.

He pauses for a moment at the door, gazing at you, and his lips curl into a smirk. You feel your cheeks warm slightly as you watch him approach you.

He reaches you on the bed and positions himself over you, making you slide back until you're lying beneath him.

"I told you to undress completely, didn’t I?" he looks into your eyes, and before you can respond, one of his hands firmly grabs your inner thigh and you gasp slightly at the sudden touch, "But I won’t complain." He leans in over you and captures your lips with his.

He kisses you deeply and slowly, exploring your mouth with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. The room would be completely enveloped in silence if not for the subtle slurp of your tongues intertwining and the soft sighs escaping from your lips.

His hand that was on your tigh now begins to go up your body, brushing your core with his thumb in the process, continuing up your stomach and stopping at your breast, which he grasps, making sure to have your nipple between two of his fingers. He brings his two fingers together slightly to pinch it lightly, and the slight moan he elicits from you makes him repeat the action.

He breaks away from the kiss only for a moment; while his thumb teases your nipple, his other hand grips your inner thigh to open your legs further and lower his hips onto yours, pressing gently, which becomes rougher as you resume kissing, making both of you moan and making you feel how hard he is in his pants.

Before pulling away, he bites your lip, and then you look into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily. Your lips are red and swollen from the kiss, and he smiles, looking at you.

Finally, one of his hands reaches your most intimate part, sliding his thumb along it, feeling how wet you’ve made your panties, “Did I get you all worked up without even touching you properly?” he teases you.

You give him a fiery look, “The situation here tells me the same about you.” You reach for the crotch of his pants, grabbing and squeezing it, making him gasp. He returns your gaze and lightly slaps your pussy before lifting his body from yours, still remaining between your legs.

His gaze falls on the handcuffs next to you, and he takes them in his hands, observing them. “You’re just waiting for the moment when I fuck you with these, aren’t you?” he huffs a little chuckle through his nose. “First choking, now these; you like being submissive, huh? Leaving me in control of everything.” there’s a slight edge in his voice that shows how truly turned up he is. Just the fact that you’re trusting him so much, letting him have total control of your body, makes his mind slightly dizzy.

He looks at you and sees the desperation now colouring your features. “Now, face down, ass up”.

You do as you’re told, turning over and raising your ass, and putting your forearms on the bed to keep yourself slightly up so that your face isn’t pressed into the pillow. But without warning, his hands grab your arms and put them behind your back. You feel his hand just above your wrist, and then cold metal touching your skin, and you feel a shiver run through your entire body at the sensation.

His hand tightens its grip on your hip while the thumb of the other presses against your entrance, making your panties even wetter, then he pulls them down to your ankles. He would like to play with you a bit more, but he doesn’t feel that patient right now.

He lowers his pants and boxers just enough to pull out his cock, and you feel arousal coursing through your entire body at the thought of him fucking you with his clothes still on while you’re completely naked underneath him at his mercy.

He grabs the underside of your asscheeks —and beginning of your thighs—, spreading them apart and taking a good look at your hole clenching around nothing; then, one of his hands breaks away from your skin to slide two of his fingers inside, making you whimper.

You move your hips back and forth to the rhythm of his fingers, which is fucking slow, but his other hand tightens harder where it grips your skin, as a warning. And you hope it bruises.

He pulls them out and wipes them on one of your cheeks, and without any warning, he enters you in one swift motion, immediately starting to move without giving you time to settle properly.

“S-slow down—“ you ask him breathlessly, but he doesn’t.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” his breath is heavy, “To be tied up and used the way I like, huh?”. At his words, you clench around his cock, making him moan and grip your hips tightly.

He lowers himself onto you and rests his hands on the bed. Your face is pressed into the pillows as you try to stifle your moans. But it’s difficult with the way his cock moves so skilfully inside you, hitting your weak spots, making it so hard to hold back that you’re breathless and think about asking him to stop for a moment. You’re not usually so shy and never try to hold back your moans, but this time is different, maybe because of the handcuffs? You don’t even know.

But he notices. He stops, slides an arm under your breast, and lifts your body. His other hand grabs the headboard of the bed for balance.

His tongue licks that patch of skin behind your ear where you’re sensitive, “Why aren’t you making yourself heard?” he whispers and starts moving again, “I want to hear how good I make you feel, so don’t you dare hold back again.” it sounds like a threat, but you ignore that as his movements become faster than before, and soon he makes you fall back onto the bed, with half of your face on the pillows but your nose and mouth free, and this time you make yourself heard loud and clear.

“Good girl.” if the nickname didn’t make you moan loudly enough, his hand gripping your nape to choke you and push your head down definitely did.

With every thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of coming and you fucking love this so much.

Suddenly, you feel him stop, and your wrists are freed; but you don’t have time to understand what’s happening or to complain before he pulls his cock out of you and you’re turned onto your back.

He takes your arms and brings them to the headboard of the bed, where he puts the handcuffs back on you, securing them to it.

And then, he looks at you.

He observes your entire body, from your tear-streaked face with saliva-coated lips, to your wet, stretched out pussy, begging to be filled again.

Finally, your brain starts to reason again, and if possible, your cheeks flush an even deeper red. You feel exposed. You want to cover yourself with your arms, and you try, but the metallic noise that comes out reminds you of the situation you’re in. You try to close your legs —as much as you can with him in between them— but his hands roughly grasp your inner thighs, spreading them apart again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hives you a disapproving look, “Why should you hide from me, huh?” He seems annoyed, mad, and you shrink under his judgmental gaze. “I don’t think you deserve my dick inside you again. Maybe I should leave you like this: handcuffed to the bed, naked and needy for the rest of the night. What do you think about that?”.

You feel like crying at his words. He couldn’t really do that, could he?

You shake your head quickly.

“Obviously, a slut like you just wants to be filled with dick all the time,” he takes his cock in hand and slaps the tip against your clit, and as you moan freely, he suppresses the groan that tries to escape his lips. “isn’t that right?”.

“Please.”

“Please what?” he responds coldly, looking down on you.

“Put it in, please.” you beg him, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“What if I don’t?”.

You feel tears of frustration forming at the corners of your eyes, “Channie…”

He slaps his tip against your clit again, drags it to your hole, “You’ll cry if I don’t put it in, won’t you? What a crybaby.”, and then he finally pushes it in.

He starts thrusting into you again, a little slower this time, but deeper than before.

Again, you feel the need to grab onto something, anything, but you can’t, and this makes you frustrated.

He places his hand on your stomach and presses, “Feel it” he moans, “feel my cock pushing inside you”. When your mind registers his words and you glance down at his hand, he removes it, and you can clearly see the outline of his cock bulging from your belly.

This is what makes you both feel close to the edge.

Chan feels he can’t hold out much longer. His hand reaches down where your bodies meet and takes your clit between two fingers, lightly pinching it.

"Are you about to come? Huh? You want to come, don’t you?".

"Please, daddy please." Your eyes are closed and your head thrown back into the pillows, so you don't see the way his face tightens at your words. A loud groan leaves his lips and your walls are painted with white spurts of hot cum. You follow right after him.

You don't realize you've blacked out for a while until you open your eyes and see Chan filling your chest and shoulders with sweet kisses.

He looks at you, and finally his gaze is soft and relaxed, “How was it?” he asks you attentively.

You smile, “Amazing, as always”.

“Good.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips.

Afterward, he takes a warm cloth and cleans you, puts another pair of underwear on you, and one of his shirts simply because he likes to see you wearing his stuff, while he puts on his boxers.

He applies a soothing lotion on your wrists as you talk about how you felt, and finally, he lies down in bed with you, covering both of you with the blanket.

You rest your head on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat relaxes you as he strokes your hair.

“Was I too rough?” he asks, needing to make sure you don’t feel any pain.

“A bit, but I also liked it because of that”.

"I wasn’t too mean, right? Everything was good?" he's sure you would have told him if it was too much for you, but he still feels the need to hear confirmation from you that everything is okay.

“No, everything was perfect, baby, don't worry," you stroke his side.

“Good," he says, feeling more relaxed, "sleep now." he caresses your shoulder.

You already feel your eyes can't stay open any longer, but you still lift your head to give him a goodnight kiss.

And you fall asleep like that, in each other's arms, in the relaxing silence of the night and the sound of your hearts beating for each other.

[barefoothighlander]

You're an amazing writer I hope you know that! What about something SFW with ghost discovering his GN s/o as a mask kink that doesn't stop at the balaclava. He just discovers that they have this weird obsession for fictional slasher guys (ghostface, Jason....) and literally any masked characters. Because I know damn well everyone reading this will relate lol! I hope you have a good day or night!

spreading the mask kink agenda🫡

warnings: gn pronouns, mostly fluff

It always intrigued him how focused you were when the two of you had movie nights, always opting for some sort of slasher film, he swore you had seen the scream movies at least 20 times during the span of your relationship.

You always watched with such intent, your eyes never leaving the screen even when some gorey scene would flash on, he was used to the violence, experiencing it first hand but he’d never seen anyone be so calm about it.

Truthfully it concerned him at first, how unfazed you were by the violence considering you would squirm when he spoke about work, he spent most of the movie watching your reactions, your face never contorted in fear or disgust, always wide-eyed in interest.

Fridays were always movie nights when he was home, a designated few hours where it was just the two of you, enjoying each other's company.

“How about a comedy?” He asks his hand on the remote flicking through the categories on the tv.

“How about Friday the 13th?”

“You’ve seen it already”

“It’s a good movie”

“You know what happens though”

“Yea but I like to rewatch, try and catch things I didn’t notice before”

“You always pick slasher films”

“Do I?”

“Yes” He looks at you with a blank expression, “C’mon let’s pick something new”

“Halloween?”

“Seriously?”

“I haven’t seen the new one”

“You’re obsessed, I swear you have a thing for guys in masks” He jokes

You freeze in your position, eyes glued to him as his words pass through your head.

“What no comeback?”

You purse your lips, shaking your head lightly as you move closer to him, sitting on the couch, the two of you settle on an old comedy movie, something to do with golfing, you aren’t paying attention, his words repeating in your head.

guys in masks

“You alright love?”

His voice breaks your trance, pulling your attention to him, his hand tracing soft patterns on your legs that sit on his lap.

“Yeah, why?”

“You haven’t said a word the whole movie, not even a pity laugh”

“Oh, just thinking I guess”

He turns his body to you, tilting his head in question, “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing, just something stupid”

“C’mon, you have to tell me now”

“It’s just, what you said, I have a thing for guys in masks” You mutter

His hand stops moving, resting on your leg as his eyes watch your face for any sign of insincerity, he watches you avoid his stare, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your sweater.

“You’re being serious.”

You bite your lower lip, nodding lightly as you drop your head back, your hands covering your face at the awkward interaction, he shifts in his spot, sitting on his legs as he places his hands over yours, pulling them from your face to see you.

Your cheeks are hot as you open your eyes to see him,

“Is that why you ask me to keep mine on when we?”

“Yeah, m’sorry, it’s dumb”

“No, no it’s just, odd maybe”

“You think I’m weird” You huff a breath

“Love I’m the one that wears a skull on my face to work, if anyone’s strange it’s me” He smiles, his response relaxing your shoulders. “So what is it about the mask?”

“I dunno, the mystery maybe”

“S’that all?”

“It’s intriguing, I can’t see what faces you’re making, just your eyes”

“My eyes?”

“They’re very expressive”

He turns his face from you for a moment, thinking your words over in his head, “Expressive?”

“Yes” You let out a small chuckle, “It gives nothing away, it’s like there’s a whole different person behind the mask”

“Someone other than me?”

“Kinda, It’s always you but it just feels different when you have the mask on, trust me I don’t want anyone but you but with the Ghost rather than Simon it’s just, different”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different good”

“So that’s why you like all the horror films”

“I guess, I’m just drawn to them, the mystery behind the killer”

“But not the killing itself?”

“Sometimes”

He quirks his head at your response, heat suddenly rising back to your cheeks.

“So the mask just, does it for you?”

“It does”

His hands resume tracing patterns over your legs, “This is… Useful information”

You cover your mouth to muffle your laugh as he grins at you, “So masks”

“Masks.” You nod

“Alright c’mon” He stands from the couch, his hand extending to you.

“Where?” You stand, taking his hand as he walks the two of you out of the room.

“To get the mask” He answers like the question was absurd, tugging you towards the bedroom.

[honeylullaby]

hello darling :)

can’t stop thinking about rcb w a daddy kink and i think we all need that in our lives tbh lol

okay but why is that 100% his biggest kink and why do i love it??? 🤭 i agree, this is very needed. thank you for the request!!! 💋💋

“I think I rather like that.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Rupert discovers, halfway through your night, that he has a new kink…

18+ FANFIC / SMUT from the offset! Short work. Reader character aged at 21. Thank you for your request ml 🩷

Candles dripping hot wax onto your darkened oak chest of drawers beside you, and casting an amber glow across your bare skin, Rupert leans over you. His had his right hand cupping your tender breast, his lips depositing compassionate kisses across your neck and was thrusting into you slowly, savouring every second. Whilst you spent many occasions fucking each other senseless after a few too many whiskies, you both took more pleasure from your intense, intimate sessions such as tonight. You both moaned simultaneously in euphoria, breathing heat onto each others skin. Rupert’s steady thrusting pushed nail-bitingly against your g-spot as you pursed your lips to speak.

“Fuck, daddy. You feel so good.” You whimper, sharpened fingernails scraping down the length of his muscular back. Rupert halted his motion for a moment, arms shaking and blinking at you with a bewildered. “What did you just call me?” He quizzed, grinning at you with softened cerulean orbs. “Oh, umm… I called you Daddy. Is that okay?” You ask, keeping his hand pressed firmly on your tit. “Yes, I think I rather like that actually. You’re feeling rather naughty tonight, aren’t you?”

Gripping his wrist and moving it from your breast, you relocate his hand to your throat and he instinctively squeezes, gently constricting your blood flow and bringing a delicate glimmer to your eyes. “Keep going, daddy.” You beg, and he happily obliges as you spread your legs further apart. Pushing his entire length inside you, you wince faintly as you feel him stretch you out. Gyrating your hips towards him — begging to be fucked harder - he increases his tempo and pulses a gentle squeeze on your throat again. “Yes, daddy. Like that. Give it to me, daddy.” You groan and watch Rupert’s sultry expression.

“Tell your daddy how much you want it, angel.” He grunts.

[domoriu]

Heyy, sorry for answering before, I forgot lol, but here it is.

The way Taesan must thrust hard into you, to make sure everything is going in and make a baby...

The way he will be all out of sync, whispering disjointed things followed by phrases like: "I'm going to make you feel so good, babe." , "Our daughter is so beautiful, love, just like you" or even something kind of dirty like "I'm going to fill you with cum, spread it all over you because you're so beautiful, but you know that, right? You know how beautiful you are moaning my name."

The way the (fake) emo boy would cum SOOO hard just thinking about you carrying his daughter inside you, while moaning how much he loves you. Then after it's all over and you're both lying down resting, he says that everything he said before was true, confirming how much he wants to be a father and loves you very much.

What makes you think that discovering this side of your boyfriend wanting to be a father was one of the best things you did (if not the best).

Sorry if I didn't understand something, english is not my first language.

~🌵

dont worry love i understood everything fine <3 im twitching a lil bit thinking ab this… taesan with a breeding kink… yeah

he gets in a zone when he starts to think about having kids, thinking about stuffing you full of his cum and even cumming on top of your cunt just to make a mess as a way of making you his basically. after a lot of fucking and a lot of taesan filling you up, it was time to have a real talk about wether he was just saying stuff in the moment or if he really wanted a baby. and thats when things only amplified.

he’s fucking you deeper, making sure to stuff you full and not let any of his cum leak out of you, tracking your ovulation period and trying out new positions so you could get pregnant. he just loves you so much and he cant wait to see you carrying his baby

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!

xo - h

That’s it baby cum for me. 

Such a good little slut for Daddy.

Wish that dildo was my cock. 

Fuck this is so hot.

The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this. 

Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day. 

His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone. 

Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone. 

Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.

Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay. 

Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into. 

Two Years Ago

It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé. 

During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase. 

But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college. 

For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car. 

Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello. 

When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong. 

Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon. 

That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship. 

As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection. 

So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift. 

He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon. 

What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table. 

As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior. 

It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.

Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning. 

When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life. 

His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever. 

After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options. 

“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said. 

“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together. 

But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.  

The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant. 

Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown. 

During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours. 

Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can. 

Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case. 

A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over. 

Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.  

Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of. 

“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.

His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him. 

It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.

His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach. 

But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain. 

Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion. 

In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since. 

But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him. 

“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.” 

“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”

The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer. 

Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”

Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh. 

“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly. 

Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him. 

“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious. 

“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”

“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!” 

Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions. 

“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.” 

Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.

“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.

“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls. 

“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!” 

“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit. 

“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”

Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.” 

Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room,  it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.

Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!” 

“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.

 “No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”

The entire room went silent. 

“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm. 

Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one. 

How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men? 

Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying. 

“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”

Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.” 

Seokjin winced. 

“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”

“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added. 

“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous. 

“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.” 

“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased. 

“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want. 

“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”

“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up. 

Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize. 

He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know. 

“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?” 

Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.” 

The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face. 

Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him. 

“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?” 

Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”

A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.

“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.” 

Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress. 

“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking. 

“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.” 

Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up. 

“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?” 

That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.

I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot. 

When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in. 

Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty. 

So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)

I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.

For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel. 

Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t. 

Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making. 

Jin, the moon. 

That’s it. He was the moon.

Present

“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.  

Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job. 

Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread. 

The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over. 

And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.

He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers. 

One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right. 

If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.

But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.

On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.

It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own. 

You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.

You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears. 

You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.

But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world. 

Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway. 

Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends. 

When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life. 

Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor. 

He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that. 

A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.

Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.

And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.

But try telling his dick that.  

Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties. 

And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.

This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading. 

During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him. 

He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste? 

And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.

He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–

Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while. 

As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms. 

He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach. 

Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?

She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow. 

Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man. 

Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating. 

“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said. 

He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.

Where was that man now? She didn’t know.

She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived. 

Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.

He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.

It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else. 

She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free. 

She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.

Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her? 

No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future. 

This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown. 

“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found. 

She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to. 

She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back. 

She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall. 

“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.” 

She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner. 

There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August. 

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off. 

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality. 

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people? 

You don’t. That’s the problem. 

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends. 

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to. 

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous. 

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play. 

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence. 

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary. 

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t— 

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel. 

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.  

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk. 

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. . 

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments. 

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them. 

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you. 

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real. 

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.  

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill. 

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod. 

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin. 

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in. 

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into. 

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin. 

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty. 

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in. 

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce. 

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours. 

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red. 

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude. 

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing. 

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down. 

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry. 

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity. 

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off. 

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait. 

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots. 

When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee. 

Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe. 

Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill. 

“That all depends on how much you practice.”

“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor. 

Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”

“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to. 

As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon. 

This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice. 

And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties. 

“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse. 

There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon. 

Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.

Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast. 

And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore. 

With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags. 

You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll. 

When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace. 

Snow is really romantic.

“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks. 

“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining. 

A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward. 

“What do–”

“I just–”

You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin. 

“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating. 

“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”

You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn. 

“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?

Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him. 

While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes. 

You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection. 

He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.  

He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time. 

While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim. 

Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional. 

You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response. 

“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”

Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says. 

Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak. 

His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” 

You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”

You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it. 

“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”

As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in. 

“Yeah,” you reply lamely. 

You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression. 

Then, he leans in.

Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.

Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek. 

All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.  

This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness. 

If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock. 

It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you. 

“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name. 

“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?  

“Turn around,” he says. 

Wait, what? 

You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind? 

Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.

“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused. 

He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for? 

“Wha–”

You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet. 

Fuck.  

“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath. 

Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago? 

“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck. 

Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet. 

“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead. 

Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off. 

He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board. 

“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.” 

You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it. 

“Your best girl?” You ask lightly. 

Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”

You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her. 

If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.

“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue. 

“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.” 

You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily. 

“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes. 

You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him. 

God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.

You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control. 

After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter. 

He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him. 

In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor. 

Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster. 

You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large. 

You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend. 

You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down. 

The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal. 

“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you.. 

You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked. 

“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself. 

“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard. 

Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height. 

Holy shit.

Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside. 

You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over. 

“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince. 

“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.” 

Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing. 

“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.” 

You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold. 

“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.” 

You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair. 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other. 

“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns. 

“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”

You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.” 

Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head. 

“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother. 

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything. 

“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”

Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair. 

“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.” 

Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self. 

You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk. 

A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it. 

“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”

Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth. 

His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it. 

Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere. 

You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple. 

That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.

Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs. 

His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face. 

“I–I’m sorry!” 

Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen. 

You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot. 

And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into? 

The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door. 

Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down. 

Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.

Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates. 

If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess. 

Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.

“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.

Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess. 

You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters. 

You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same. 

You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin. 

He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip. 

He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count. 

He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen. 

“Wait,” he says, and you freeze. 

Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours. 

“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”

Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.” 

Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.” 

His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.

Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?

You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it. 

As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”

“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own. 

“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful. 

As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something. 

With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well. 

You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give. 

You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead. 

That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard. 

You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day. 

How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous. 

Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips. 

God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around. 

He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock. 

Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard. 

If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen. 

Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy. 

It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all. 

Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension. 

You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this. 

You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas  up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.  

The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal. 

Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible. 

You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with. 

As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it. 

You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit. 

Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop. 

You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier. 

The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now. 

And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today. 

You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum. 

Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation. 

You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop. 

You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind. 

You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point. 

You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising. 

Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money. 

You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive. 

Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved. 

There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring. 

You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate. 

In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well. 

You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category. 

The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”. 

You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil. 

“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans. 

Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.

You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch. 

“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”

His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you. 

“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.” 

The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts. 

To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.

“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.

“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.” 

You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity. 

The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more. 

“Please,” you moan at your screen. 

Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself? 

“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”

You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.

“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”

Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate. 

Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything. 

Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again. 

“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.” 

Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied. 

He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock. 

“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.” 

In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash. 

You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.

Please, Daddy. Please let me cum. 

I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear. 

Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock! 

Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course. 

The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record. 

He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar?  “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.” 

Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe. 

There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock. 

“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit. 

The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip. 

“Is this what you’re begging for?” 

Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes. 

Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip. 

“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow. 

“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.” 

You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like. 

Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me.  Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out. 

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing. 

His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out. 

Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory? 

There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far. 

“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”

Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release. 

He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan. 

With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”. 

“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.” 

The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling. 

You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant. 

Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago. 

He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[lagerloutfic]

a tough as balls year for little old me, but as the old proverb goes, no matter the horrors there is always ao3 in bed. writing and reading.

doubled down on my love for hockey and feel like i understood the game better, imbued more of the narratives, and discovered more players to be stupid about.

stopped trying to fight being an f1 girlie and threw myself in head first. what a gorge little community of freaks (affectionate) who like to watch the zoom zoom.

here are some things i wrote. not sure if i love them all, but they were all glorious distractions and so i'm hopelessly fond. not a single word could have happened without @crunchycrispy, the eternal muse.

hockey stuff

🐶 got that dog in him | E | 7.1k | the connor mcdog fic haha...oh boy. the good news is i am not alone in thinking how much connor looks like bowie and the bad news is, we're all going to hell. despite living in fear someone is going to cancel me for bestiality, i loved writing connor/bowie pov and imagining my life as a pampered little pooch, beloved by all. on my wishlist for 2025, tbh.

💦 warm ride | E | 2.3k & wrap me round your wedding ring | E | 6.8k | William Nylander/John Tavares | eurosleaze 4 DILF captain shame writing willy is a true joy, thoroughly recommend everyone have a turn. this was darker that i usually go because i don't like to hurt my own feelings but i'm happy with how wet and pathetic JT turned out and the whole structure of part 2. 😈 love drunk off this hump | E | 8k | Frederik Andersen/Auston Matthews | the gang's all here and they are fucking idiots this might have been the most fun thing i wrote this year? just good vibes, silly times, a thrilling ensemble of dickheads being stupid hockey bros. everyone should jerk off with the homies, the thesis.

🥛 no use crying | E | 38.6K | Brock Boeser/William Nylander | milk bar fic sex-worker AU ummmm, look. i just wanted to write boys with big milk jugs. do these fellas know each other? no. does the world make sense? nah. did i have a fun time, YES.

🦷 different kind of buzz | E | 3.5k | Macklin Celebrini/Will Smith | | pain, teeth & horny 4 hockey | those fucking rookies, goddamn actually can't believe we are witnessing the birth of a new pairing right under our noses, but it's happening. we are living in the historical moment! thank you to all the sickos who are writing willmack, posting the content, thinking the thoughts. the real MVP of this season, along with @fast-burn for making it spesh.

🏒 let's call this the playoff hockey coping strategy collection 🏒

absolutely bonkers time where i dealt with playoff hockey through fanfiction. actually do not remember half of these, so that's cool.

say it, say it again | E | 4.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | soft dick fic.

but close ain't close enough | E | 6.3k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | get your captain pregnant with help from your girl

go ahead and try a little crazy on me | E | 4k & don't you even try and explain | e | 12.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Arturs Silovs | winner's room goalie fucking | whomst among us was not enchanted by arty during that series? probably the most enjoyable voice to write, i do really want to write a part three where everyone gets freaky in spain so someone bully me until i do it.

better put that business to bed | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | voice kink

just the touch of your hand | E | 3.4k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | McDepression and spanking

if i could make a wish | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | omg, MORE McDrepression?? Get a new theme, girl!

i'm gonna tell you right now, they're all i'm thinkin' about | E | 7k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | you are never gonna believe there's a THIRD McDepression fic out there by moi. This time with a cute outfit!

🏎️ f1 stuff 🏎️

👀 unsafe release | E | 18.2k | Alex Albon/George Russell | when that childhood friend becomes hot and weird and scary it's your girls first f1 fic! started life as a quinn/petey fic lol okay who is she? this was HARD to write. new fandoms are tricky, there's so much to learn. but good to be sobbing into the google doc at a million am, it builds character etc etc

🌪️ a lasting advantage | E | 18.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell | okay but actually i wasn't done with these bitches more of the same, but with extra mental breakdowns and lashings of shame! buttsex, finally, and a beloved OC.

💬 hot rookie slagsss | M | 5.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell/Lando Norris | horndogs in the groupchat i just wanted to write something with dialogue so i didn't have to bother with all the bits in between and text is so fun for that. so fun to thrash this out with @latecomersprivilege and @ctimenefic. it takes a village, y'all.

flippin' hell. when it's all laid out like that it's really something. what's next? i literally have no idea! how fun! thanks to anyone who interacted with me this year, the likes and comments and stupidity keep the motor running. open mouthed kisses for all xx

[blue-slxt]

Our Song Cord: Nobody Gets Out of Love Alive

(Chapter 4)

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Time to finally get to the plot point that inspired this whole fic for me lol. This idea just came smack outta nowhere and it wouldn't leave my brain until I got it down so I hope you guys enjoy it. Every chapter title is a song reference, so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Reader Making Poor Life Decisions, Kiri Being the Best, Mentions of Smut, Cheating? (If you squint), Friends to Lovers, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mentions of Pregnancy

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Consequences and misunderstandings.

There’s a distinct shift in you and Neteyam’s relationship over the next week or so. In public, you both give the appearance of best friends. Partners in crime that do everything together just like everyone had always known you to. But in private, you more often than not spent your time as a sweaty, heaving pile of intertwined limbs. Even after the end of your heat, the two of you still couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of each other.

Neteyam, in particular, was getting bolder with his affection. It would be a small brush of his tail against yours, his hand lingering on the small of your back during actual training sessions, or even a quick sneaky kiss he’d press against your cheek when no one was looking. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely adore all the attention he showered you with. Your heart called out for him in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but it hit you with a force strong enough to make the blood all rush to your head. Your body craved him deeply as if he was the very air you needed to fill your lungs. But the revelation of all these feelings did complicate things.

The reality was, Neteyam didn’t belong to you. And soon, he was going to belong to someone else. You felt ashamed every time you would see Layao shoot him a smile or let her hands trail over his arms and you would feel your gut twist with nausea.

You knew that this arrangement you had with Neteyam was going to be coming to an end soon as his ceremony was coming in just a couple days. But it was the fact that your time was running out that made you want him that much more. To steal these small moments with him more often. Build more memories to hold on to like a security blanket. She would have him for the rest of their lives, you should be allowed these last few days.

And what an eventful few days it was. The two of you would see each other every single night. You would spend hours experimenting with new positions and possible kinks. You’ve both discovered a lot about each other and yourselves. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had him spit in your mouth. The thought of such a thing before would have disgusted you, but when you hold your head back and mouth open still holding some of his cum on your tongue and you watch that steady stream roll from his tongue to yours, you swear you’ve never tasted anything more delicious in your life. And Neteyam loves having you on top. He loves being able to watch your head fall back and release so many sweet, dirty sounds while your tits bounce with your every move.

And as much as you loved fucking him, you equally loved the tender way he’d hold you afterwards. You’d lay your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and he’d kiss the top of your head while cooing sweet words to you. On several nights, the two of you would lose track of time and have to scramble to make it back home before everyone else woke up. It was a risky arrangement, but that just added to the thrill of it all.

But now, Neteyam’s ceremony is in 2 days and you can’t help the deep sense of dread you feel lurking just under the surface. It causes your vision to go unsteady and your stomach churn when you wake up in the morning. Suddenly, you’re rushing out of your home and to a nearby bush coughing up your stomach contents. It burns your throat and leaves a disgusting taste in your mouth. Your body feels weak trying to walk back to your home. You quickly rinse your mouth out with some water you have and decide it’s probably smart to go to the healing tent and be checked just to be totally sure that you’re not coming down with a cold. Hopefully, they have something that will settle your stomach.

When you walk into the healing tent you look around for any familiar face. “Kiri? Tsahik?” Footsteps shuffle over to you and it’s Layao. “Oh, sorry, I was just looking for Kiri or Mo’at.”

“Oh, they’re out gathering herbs. Are you alright? Is it something I can help you with?” Her voice is sweet and her expression is gentle. Another churn of your stomach plagues you as you fight to swallow back down the bile building in your throat.

“W-well, I woke up not feeling very well. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t getting sick.”

“I can definitely help you. Mo’at has been training me more in these kinds of things. Come, sit.” She gently holds your wrist and leads you to sit on a mat nearby. You try to take deep breaths to help ease the erratic beating of your heart. Your eyes study her as she pulls out a small, sharp bone similar to the one that Mo’at keeps with her. Her voice is still gentle when she approaches you.

“It’s just going to be a little prick.” She pokes just barely through your skin and brings the tip of the bone up to her lips and lets her eyes close while she listens for Eywa.

After only a few seconds, her eyes shoot open and she smiles brightly at you. “You are with child. You have been blessed.”

A ringing in your ears starts. “I’m sorry, that must be a mistake. A child?” “It is no mistake. I have done this several times now. Eywa is going to bless you and your mate with a precious baby.” She clasps her hands together showing her genuine excitement for you.

Your chest tightens with a mix of emotions.

“I did not know that you had a mate already. I’m sure he will be overjoyed to know!” she places a hand on your shoulder and you do your best to not recoil from her touch.

“This is big news. I should go so I can rest. Uh, thank you.” You say starting to stand up.

“Oh, wait.” She turns to fidget with a myriad of different bowls and herbs and things behind her. “Here. These should help with the nausea and weakness.” She says as she places a small sack of herbs in your hands.

“Thank you. I should get going.”

The walk back to your home feels like it passes by in a blur. Your mind can’t process anything properly right now. A baby…you were going to have a baby. Neteyam’s baby.

‘Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ is your initial reaction. You flop down on your sleep mat and stare blankly ahead. What are you supposed to do?

You look down at your stomach and, all of a sudden, you’re hit with a wave of overwhelming affection. You hold a hand lightly just under your navel and let it sink in that there’s a little manifestation of your love growing inside of you.

But how are you supposed to tell Neteyam? This would completely derail his arrangement with Layao. You don’t want to cause any trouble or embarrassment for anyone.

While you’re lost in thought, there’s a knock on the post outside the entrance to your home. You jump at the sound, but relax a little when you see that it’s only Kiri. “Hey, Kiri.”

“Hey, Layao told us you came by the tent.”

“Oh, yeah. I wasn’t feeling good when I woke up so I just came to get checked.” The apprehension is written all over your face and Kiri can sense it.

“She told us about…” she doesn’t finish her sentence but gestures to your stomach.

“Ah, I see.”

Kiri comes closer to you and crouches next to you. “Don’t look so excited.” She jokes. You know she’s trying to cheer you up, but there’s too much anxiety storming in your mind right now.

“So, who is the lucky guy? Is it Aykxo? I saw you talking with him a while ago. He’s quite the catch.”

You try to quickly compose yourself when you turn your head away from her, but the quiver in your lip shakes your voice as it comes out. “No. It is not Aykxo. But I can’t say.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “If it’s not Aykxo, then who else would it be? The only other person I ever see you with is Net—“, she cuts her own sentence short when the circuits connect. When she goes silent, all you can do is look at her. Her expression shifts from shock to pity. “Oh no.”

“You can’t tell him, Kiri.”

“You’re joking. Please tell me you’re not serious. How did this happen? When? Is that why you’ve been out so late together every night? And all the marks on you? Oh, Eywa, I think I’m going to be sick!” You can barely register Kiri’s rambling when your head falls into your hands and the tears start to well in your eyes.

She pauses and takes a breath when she notices your small sniffles. She places an arm around your shoulders. “What are you planning to do?”

“I can’t tell him. It would ruin everything for him. I can’t do that to him.”

“But this is his baby. He’ll want to be there for you. He has to know. Besides, what are you going to tell him when your belly starts growing?”

She’s right. And you know she is. Of course, Neteyam deserves to know and you know that he would want to be there, but the fear of what this could do to your relationship is too great in your heart. It’s one thing for him to reject you, but to turn away you and your baby would utterly crush you.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I can’t tell him, Kiri. I can’t. And you can’t either. Nobody can know.”

“Fine. I won’t say anything. But he should know. This baby is as much his as it is yours.”

You huff out a breath trying to decide on the best course of action.

“Do you need anything?” she asks still holding onto you.

“Just time.” You say plainly.

“Alright. Consider it done.” She responds in a very matter-of-fact tone.

You watch her in confusion as she stands and makes her way out of your home before you even have the chance to ask her what she means. Instead, you fall on to your back on your sleep mat and stare up at the sky musing to yourself about your situation.

…

This might be a mistake. When Neteyam asked you earlier if the two of you were still meeting tonight, every logical part of you screamed at you to make up some kind of excuse to say no. But seeing his hopeful eyes and that damned smile that defied all logic, you couldn’t find it in you to turn him down.

So, here you stood near the shack waiting. You beat him here tonight since your anxiety was running too high for you to just sit at home.

When you hear a rustling in the nearby bushes, your body tenses feeling him get closer. When Neteyam finally emerges, he’s clearly surprised to see you here first, but happy all the same.

“You’re already here. That excited to see me?” he jokes walking straight to you and wrapping his arms around your middle. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and presses feather light kisses to your shoulder.

By Eywa, how are you not supposed to just soften under his gentle hold? “Teyam?”

“Hm?” he hums in response without moving his face away from your neck.

“Can we just sit together for a while? It’s been kind of a rough day and I just really need you.” Your voice is hesitant and small. But when he pulls back, there’s not even a hint of disappointment there.

“Of course, sevin.”

He’s gotten much more comfortable with things like that too lately. Every now and then, Neteyam will drop in a pet name for you. It makes your heart pound every time, even if you feel like it shouldn’t.

He sits on the ground cross legged and opens his arms out for you in waiting. You smile to yourself before slotting yourself right into his lap facing him and crossing your legs behind his back. You rest your head on his shoulder and he mimics you while rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back.

“What is bothering you, syulang?”

If there was ever a time to tell him the truth, this would be it. It should be. And yet, your mouth just opens and closes repeatedly searching for the right string of words.

“I just woke up not feeling really good…” not technically a lie. “And I just keep thinking about this. Soon, you are going to have your mating ceremony and we’ll have to stop this.” It sounds needier to your ears than you’d like for it to. “I mean, you won’t need my help anymore, you know?”

Your attempt at a recovery is unconvincing at best and you just pray that Neteyam won’t pick up on the underlying context. He’d never tell you whether he did or didn’t, though. Neteyam is a smart man. But still, it doesn’t take much more than half a brain and a pair of working eyes to figure out that you had it bad for him. He found it nothing short of adorable how your face would flush when he’d kiss your cheek or how you would stutter and stumble over your words when you’d ask for him to touch you.

“Well, if that is worrying you, then you’ll be happy to know that the ceremony has been postponed.” He says still just mindlessly rubbing his fingertips in shapes on your back.

Instead of happiness, your first emotion is surprise. You pull your face back to be able to look at him to make sure he was being serious. “What? Why?”

He just shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not sure. Apparently, grandmother had a change of opinion and suggested to my parents that we put the whole thing on hold.” “For how long?” “They didn’t say. Just until she is sure again, I guess.”

Your brain tries to figure out what reason Mo’at could possibly have for changing her mind. That was something she rarely ever did. Once she had an idea set in her mind, there was usually no talking her out of it. And, for some reason, your mind keeps flashing back to your conversation with Kiri from earlier.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just time.”

“Alright. Consider it done.”

There’s no way. You thought her demeanor was a little odd, but there’s no way that she managed to pull this off. You try to suppress the small smile that makes its way onto your face. You mentally file away a note to make her the best bracelet your amateur fingers could manage.

Neteyam notices the lift in your expression and it clearly pleases him to see you happy.

“I will always need you. We’ve spent our whole lives together. How could I ever not need you?” The hint of love in his voice and eyes is disarming. How are you supposed to not be completely in love with this man? You place your hands on either side of his face and brush your nose against his with a small giggle. “You are too sweet to me, Teyam.”

For the rest of the night, you both pass your time with just casual conversation. Neteyam tells you what kind of trouble Lo’ak has gotten himself mixed up in lately and you fill him in on the latest gossip among the people. Neteyam isn’t really one for gossip, but he loves seeing how enthusiastic you are with your vivid retellings. Neither of you can keep your hands to yourselves the whole time. You always have to be touching in some kind of way. Sometimes Neteyam has you sit in his lap, sometimes your back is pressed against his chest while you sit between his legs, hand holding, playing with each other’s braids, stolen kisses, longing looks, it’s more intimate than some mated couples.

It’s enough to make you temporarily forget about the tiny truth hiding in your womb behind your still flat stomach.

Once daylight starts threatening to creep in, you both decide to call it a night and sneak back home. Since it’s still so early, you actually accept Neteyam’s offer to walk you home this time. It’s far too early for even the earliest risers to be stirring around so there should be no real harm in it. All the while, your mind is trying to work out the best way to break the news to him. And then comes the fear. You don’t want to lose this. It’s so comfortable and pure and you don’t want to ruin that. But you won’t be able to keep this under wraps for long.

“Thank you for walking me, Teyam. You really didn’t have to.” You say turning to him once you reach your home.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I want to make sure you’re safe. Besides, it gives me an excuse to spend an extra few minutes with you.” His slanted grin exposes one of his fangs and you want to roll your eyes at him, but your smile gives you away. You go to turn and walk in, but you stop when he grabs your hand and turns you back to him. His eyes roam up and down your body and his voice is low. “Will I see you later?”

Fuck, he can’t look at you like that and talk like that. You literally can’t say no to him when he looks at you like that. You have to bite your lip just to keep from screaming. “Sure, Nete.” You say his name in a singsong voice teasing him.

He may laugh, but you know that he not-so-secretly loves it. He steps forward to peck your lips one quick time before finally letting go of your hand and watching you walk inside.

Neteyam knows that he’s in a tricky spot. On the one hand, he feels a deep sense of duty to his family, to his people, and to Layao. But on the other hand, he’d be lying if said he was upset about the arrangement being postponed because that means that he gets to hold on to this fantasy a little longer. He gets to fulfill his duty to his own heart. But which one should take precedent? It’s true he doesn’t want to disappoint his parents or his intended mate, but he can’t picture his future without you. Loving you, mating with you, having you bare his children. Not to mention how you not-so-secretly loved him back. It should be just as simple as that, shouldn’t it? He decided that he needs to have a talk with his father.

…

Rays of light beaming through the spaces of your kelku wake you late in the morning. Your stomach flips and threatens to make you spill, but you choke it back down just barely. This nausea feels like it will be the death of you. But you have daily chores to attend to. With a couple of deep breaths and a couple swigs of water, you settle your stomach enough to make it out of bed and out into the village. Today would be the perfect day to help weave some baskets. You can sit still and you can practice your weaving skills. You take a seat near the other women working on their baskets and use your fingers to slowly form the right intertwining pattern.

It’s tricky for you to say the least. Weaving has never really been your strong suit. Trying to understand the way the patterns and lines all come together to form one cohesive object was beyond you, but you give it your best effort regardless.

You get a little distracted by the feeling of eyes on you. When you look up, you can notice some of the other girls looking at you and whispering amongst themselves. That’s a little odd, but you figure it’s nothing worth worrying about.

“What ya working on?” a familiar voice appears right behind you and makes you jump. When you look, a smiling Kiri is crouched behind you.

“Kiri, you nearly made my heart stop!”

She hides her laugh behind her hand, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You were just focusing so hard.” She moves around so that she’s sitting next to you now. “So, how did things go?”

You swallow hard trying to find the right words yet again.

“It went fine. We talked…a lot…about a lot of…stuff” you couldn’t sound more unconvincing if you tried.

“You didn’t tell him yet, did you?” you flinch a bit at her deadpan expression and tone.

“It just wasn’t the right time.” “Well, I’ve made sure that you have plenty of that.”

“So it was you!” your voice gets a little louder before you can really catch it.

“Shhhh, keep your voice down! You said you needed time so I bought you some time. But you only have so long before you’re not going to be able to hide it anymore. Plus, I have no clue how long before my grandmother actually makes up her mind. So, whatever you do, you better do it quickly.”

She’s not wrong. And you’re grateful for her help, but what are you supposed to do? How do you break news like this?

“But what am I supposed to say to him, Kiri? ‘Hey Neteyam, I know you’re supposed to be with Layao but, I’m pregnant with your baby’? How well do you really think that will go?” you ask with all the sarcasm you can muster.

“Very well, actually! Even the blind can see how much my brother loves you. And I mean love loves you. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”

Your cheeks get hot and you can only look away from her. “The timing just still feels off. I’ll tell him. I will. I just need to find the right time.”

Kiri sighs deeply next to you, “Fine, but just don’t let it get away from you.”

“Alright.”

…

When Neteyam arrives back at his family’s kelku, only his mother and Tuk are there. Neytiri was prepping meat for their dinner and Tuk was working on weaving a small basket for herself. Neytiri smiles at Neteyam when he walks in. “Welcome home ma’itan. Food will be ready soon.” She says barely taking her eyes off her working hands.

“Where is dad? I need to speak with him about something important.”

“Your father is in a strategy meeting.” She says and finally looks at Neteyam to see the apprehension written all over him. “What is it that’s troubling you?” She finally sets down the meat and her knife while she watches him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

Neteyam considers brushing it off as nothing and coming up with some kind of excuse so he could avoid this conversation with his mother. But then he thinks about it a little deeper. Maybe his mom was the right person to start with after all. While she was always strong and firm, she was also incredibly empathetic when it came to her family. She was often the more level-headed one and more willing to hear them out. He relents with a sigh and walks over to help her with prepping the food for dinner while he talks.

“It is about the arrangement with Layao…I am having some doubts about the whole thing. I understand that she is who you and dad and grandmother have chosen and she is a nice girl, but—”

“But you hold someone else in your heart.” She finishes the thought for him. She was always good at that kind of thing.

He finds himself unable to speak and opts to simply nod his head instead while he continues to work on his slicing. Neytiri places a hand on Neteyam’s face and makes him look at her.

“Layao is a good girl and the two of you together is good for the clan.” Neteyam’s stomach drops hearing this. “But, at the end of the day, you need to do what is good for yourself and if it is this other girl, then Eywa will find a way to make it so.” A small glimmer of hope reappears in Neteyam’s eyes.

“It would not be the first time something like this has happened. It’s how I ended up with your father.” She casually drops in.

Neteyam laughs a little to himself remembering all the times his parents would recall their love story to him and his siblings when they were little. It gave him hope that if things could work out for them this well, then maybe Eywa could make something work out for him too.

Neytiri takes the knife and food from Neteyam, “Go, find your father. It sounds like you need to speak to him.” A ghost of a smile sits on her face and Neteyam perks up a bit feeling a new wave of surety. He offers his mother a kiss on the cheek before jumping up from his spot and heading out to search for Jake.

The clan is alive with the hustle and bustle of everyone going about their day and getting their duties done. In the midst of his search for his father, Neteyam hears a call through the crowd of people.

“Neteyam! There you are!”

When he turns around, Layao is already making her way over to him. He sighs a bit because he doesn’t have time for this right now, but he doesn’t want to be rude to the poor girl. It was already bad enough that he was on his way to call off their arrangement. No need to twist the knife by ignoring her too.

“Layao. Were you looking for me?” he asks putting on his best, most casual smile he can right now.

“Yes, I wanted to give you this. I heard that you like yovo fruit and I figured you could use a snack while you’re going about your day. I’m sure you’re very busy.” Her hand rubs at the back of her neck trying to calm her nerves. Neteyam’s heart breaks for her. She’s truly a sweet girl and she is a catch in her own right, but she just isn’t the one that his heart calls for.

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s nothing. Have you heard the good news?”

“What news?”

“About your friend. She and her mate are being blessed with a child.” Her excitement is evident, but Neteyam feels like his brain just short-circuited.

“She and her mate? A child?” he reiterates to ensure he heard her correctly.

“Yes! She came to me the other day because she was feeling ill and I received the message from Eywa. Isn’t it exciting? But I didn’t know she was mated already. I wonder if it’s Aykxo. Remember when we saw them talking that one day? And then they disappeared off into the forest together after eclipse. It has to be, right? That’s what everyone else is saying.” her smile grows wider while she theorizes about the origin of your unborn baby and the secret of your lover.

Now, Neteyam is the one who’s feeling ill. This couldn’t possibly be true, could it? You would have told him…wouldn’t you?

…

Nerves consume you as you lean against the tree near the shack. Neteyam is late. He usually would be here by now and Neteyam is never one for being late. Maybe he got caught by someone trying to sneak off and he needs more time to get away. Your foot is involuntarily tapping the ground trying to release some of the tension in your body. Suddenly, you hear rustling through the bushes and can faintly make out dramatically swaying braids in the dark.

“Teyam! I was starting to worry that you weren’t coming tonight.” You greet him with a smile and walk towards him as he breaks through the foliage. When you approach him, he takes a step back from you. Your face falls. Neteyam has never avoided your touch before. Especially not recently. Usually, his hands are drawn to you like moths to a flame the second he lays eyes on you.

“What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenches and he’s avoiding looking you in the eye. This isn’t like him at all.

“Neteyam!” your voice gets a little louder urging him to finally look at you and say something. When he does look at you, the sight makes your heart break. His eyes are red and filling with tears and there’s a deep sadness tainting his otherwise flawless face.

“Teyam?” your voice is just above a whisper stepping towards him. Your hand is about to rise to touch his face, but his hand gently stops yours by your wrist.

“Is it true?”

You almost can’t even hear the question with how low his voice is.

“Is what true?” “Are you pregnant?”

Silence. Your entire body stills. It feels like even your lungs have frozen in place and stopped your breath all together. His eyes study your face waiting for some kind of sign or an answer. But, in truth, your silence says it all.

“Is it Aykxo’s?” his voice wavers ever so slightly when he speaks.

“Who did you hear that from?”

“That’s what everyone is saying. And I know you went off with him that night you went into heat.” The hurt in his voice is evident. You want nothing more than to deny it; to tell him the truth. But when your mouth falls open to speak, you can’t seem to find words.

“What’s worse is that you didn’t even tell me. I had to hear it from someone else.”

“Who did you hear it from?” “What does that matter? The point is that it should have come from you.” His voice is more firm with the hurt giving way to agitation.

“Teyam, I wanted to tell you, but it’s complicated…” tears start to well in your eyes ready to spill at a moment’s notice.

“No kidding. And to think, I thought you might actually…” a small sob breaks his sentence and he has to pause to take a breath and recompose himself. “Never mind. I don’t know what I expected. This whole thing was always supposed to be just temporary anyways so why don’t we just cut it here? We’ve got all we needed out of each other so no need to continue anymore.”

“Tey, please don’t do this. Just let me explain—”

“Congratulations on your child.” He turns and walks back through the dense bushes and branches and disappears right before your eyes.

The shock finally subsides and the despair flows through you. Your knees give out and you fall to the ground with tears cascading down your face. Sobs rack your body as you hold your stomach. It’s your worst nightmare come true. The man you love has renounced you and your baby. The baby that you didn’t have the courage to tell him belonged to him. That you belonged to him. Looking down at your belly, you quietly promise your baby that the two of you will make it through this…somehow.

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[kittenintheden]

NSFW Alphabet

I've see this one going around a lot and @hellethil tagged me so it's the Oristarion fuckabet let's gooooooooo. it's all under the cut because it's a long one lol.

tagging: @aevallare @eraserspiral @shewhowas39 @vixstarria @brain-rot-central

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

cuddly and gently ragging on one another for how good they gave and/or got it

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Astarion: obsessed with Ori's ass and collarbones in particular. on himself, well. he keeps the appearance on point and with great attention. I imagine he'd say face and hair.

Ori: she loves his mouth. for all the reasons. and his hands. she's well-assured of her own hotness and knows she has an ass that doesn't quit. she also likes her freckles. they remind her of her dad.

C = Cum (where does your muse prefer to cum/have someone cum)

Astarion is very quickly discovering that he's extremely into coming inside Ori, though he's also not above the occasional pearl necklace. he wants to mark that neck in all the ways.

Ori is not particular. she will gladly take it anywhere he offers it. hurr hurr.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like Astarion would absolutely die if the general public found out exactly how needy and pleading for it he can be when he's comfortable enough to want it.

Ori's a dirty bird and honestly not shy about it? but I think she'd be sensitive about admitting that she has an emotionally tender underbelly and being in love feels like a whole new ballgame.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think we're all well-aware of Astarion's experience level. Ori doesn't have nearly the number of years he has under his belt, but she's VERY well-fucked for her age. enough that she can even show him a thing or two.

my girl's a slut and I love that for her <3

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

my Astarion is a canon-compliant missionary lover. boy is so thirsty for intimacy. he does, however, get very into taking her from behind, too. because ass.

Ori likes to ride it. bounce on it. cowgirl it up. you feel me.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

these two are goofy as hell. they have their serious, emotionally resonant moments when it comes to intimacy, but overall they're prone to laughter and silliness with their sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Astarion's hairless everywhere but his head, so. elf shit. Ori is well-groomed but keeps her patch of hair right where it is for the most part. and no, it doesn't match the drapes, because the drapes are enchanted to grow in pink. the carpet is white.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

they are so so so horny and so so so disgustingly in love about it. they can be rawing one another to absolute delirium and will still find a way to make it nauseatingly sweet somehow.

Ori is very sensitive to Astarion's past and mindful of how he's responding to things. Astarion is sensitive to Ori's vulnerability with him and him only. they check in with one another a lot.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ori is very open about her masturbatory habits and it drives Astarion absolutely bananas in a sexy way. when they aren't sleeping together for whatever reason, he enjoys knowing she's taking care of herself and thinking of him when she does it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

someone once commented on NYS that they are "so kinky but so fucking normal about it" and like yeah that's the vibe lmao. the kinks at the top of the pile are teasing, bratting, edging, light BDSM stuff.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

uh. they are not picky. beds are nice to have but in no way a requirement. it's less the where and more the who.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

being loved/in love. knowing that this person is safe. not to be gross about it. but.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Ori has a hard "no" list that she's very aware of and has shared. no hair pulling, no humiliation/degredation, no choking, no slapping her in the face. Astarion is still figuring it out but a major turnoff is definitely feeling like he's being treated as a thing and not a person.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

both are very enthusiastic givers AND receivers, and both are highly skilled at it. head for everyone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both? all? everything? depends on the mood at the time?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

yes. is the general consensus if the mood and opportunity strikes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

absolutely. they're mindful of one another's limits but they feel safe enough to push their own boundaries and know it'll be okay if they need to stop.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

they can edge one another to absolute death for as long as it's still fun for both of them.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

oh boy do they ever

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

teasing one another is like 95% of their respective personalities.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

they are both very vocal. lots of moaning and little pants and oh gods yes there right there. dirty talk. very encouraging and loud about how much they're enjoying themselves.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Astarion likes to wrap his body around hers from behind while they're resting and press his palm to her chest so he can feel her heartbeat both under his palm and against his chest through her back.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

they're hot and they both have scars.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

they are absolute sluts for one another and their libido is very high. however, that doesn't always mean they WANT to have sex. sometimes the past gets in the way. but the desire remains.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I mean, if they're banging it out right before bed, rest comes pretty quickly.

[writerofthewinds]

can you make a will solace nsfw alphabet?? 😘😫

Will Solace NSFW Alphabet

A will solace NFSW Alphabet will headcanons i like and some of my own.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Has everything ready from water to snacks and blankets can heal you if he went to far expert in massages from his anatomical knowledge

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners) Is very proud of his abs and pecks because he doesn't really get time to work out due to working in the infirmary and has surprisingly muscular thighs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…) Prefers coming in you feeling your ass and throat clenching and milking him

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Is much more submissive than people think although he can be a good dom after dimming for too much he prefers being the sub.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Pretty experienced, Will is familiar with his kinks and dislikes and can walk his partner through it if they are inexperienced and help them discover what they like.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying) You riding him or him riding you. Do you know what they say? Wear the hat and ride the cowboy.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) Not necessarily goofy, but if he's teasing or being teased, will let out a few breathy laughs and snorts

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) He shaves most of the time but sometimes not when he has a lot of work to do, so he forgets, and it can be bushy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) He's undistractable, he's entirely focused on his partner's pleasure, and can be very romantic if he's in the mood.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Doesn't have much time to jack off, instead not do it anyway so he can release inside his partner if he really needs to and won't see his partner for hours or when he's on a quest without his boyfriend he'll make it quick.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) He enjoys handcuffs, like cuffing his boyfriend while he fucks him, and hearing the sound of the cuffs moving because his bf is moving is ecstatic to him.

He enjoys dominating his partner and railing tf outta him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) He doesn't have any favorite place, honestly; any place where he knows he won't get disturbed is good for him a slight preference for the bedroom cuz it's comfy.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) Getting called pet names by his partner, like 'pretty boy,' teasing 'yes sir will wake his dominant side and make you (s)cream

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Definitely not public sex, Will is pretty private about this stuff and like the privacy and comfort of his home and not dirty things like blood knives and piss.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Prefers giving, is super good at oral, knows he's skilled, and will hang this over his partner to get them to beg if he wants them to (anatomical knowledge coming in handy, lol)

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Will varies depending on the mood of the moment; if it's more of a romantic mood, he'll be slow and deep and sensual, but he will hit it hard and fast when needed resulting in you walking with a limp.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) A massive fan of quickies. As the camp medic, he doesn't have much time and practically spends all day in the infirmary. Doesn't want to be disturbed when working, but if his partner has been teasing him or looking particularly delicious before they need to go somewhere, he is prepared to rail the attitude out of them before they leave; this, of course, only turns them on more.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Of course, he loves to experiment and take risks trying new things, but does have some strict boundaries with things he won't do and will respect his partner's boundaries as well

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) Can go for a couple of rounds, but likes to spend a lot of time on his partner. After that he's tired. Maybe another one if he has the energy but two is usual.

T = Toy (Do they own toys or use them? On a partner or themselves?) Has a couple toys himself but is absolutely supportive of his partner using toys if they want to.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease). This little teasing motherfucker, if in the mood, will take his time edging you and stimulating you but can't take as much as he can provide, Will crumbles under his partner's teasing pretty quick and dares to complain after you do this to him despite him doing this to you and being deaf to your begging

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) not extremely loud, just some groans, little mons, and lots of oh fuck

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) After a good time where he fucked you real hard, he was too tired he fell asleep with his cock up your ass, but when you tried to get out, he hugged you from behind which resulted in you sleeping with him inside you.

Or when you hit a particular spot, instead of moaning he speaks in a thick southern accent.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s happening in those pants). I know it's big. It's around 8 inches; it's cut and not so thick, like it's slim (idk if that makes sense), and the skin shade is lighter than the rest of his body, almost pale.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) He's a teenage demigod with ADHD and a war medic... ofc its high

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward) Is already asleep once aftercare is over because this dude is TIRED healing people all day and sexing miss gurl is in a coma.

[tremendous-entropy]

Hello all! Ok, so I've never written fics before, let alone smut, but this thought has been driving me crazy for a while and I can't find what I'm looking for so I decided to give it a go myself. Premise being that in the nightbringer time-line all the brothers are 100% virgins. So I'd like to explore that, lol. Taking place after you wake up from your coma and on from there. First being mammon that night (ignoring the bit where they're all asleep outside your door at the end of that lesson) and then next being lucifer after he learns they all want to stay in the devildom with Satan, when the two of you are in his office bc it just sets it up so perfectly. From there idk what order or after what happening I want the rest of them to happen. So I'm looking for suggestions, and also just really want to know if this is something y'all would be interested in reading? Bc it's gonna be super long. And it may take a while, I have Adhd and my shit is all over the place. I'm going to use my MC, Zaeda, she/her, bi, poly. I can already tell you mammon will probably be the most in depth, lol, I just love him so much, I'm sorry 😂 but I do love them all and I will do my best to give each of them the time they deserve 😉So here's a little long af teaser and probably not gonna be super wonderfully edited so ignore any current typos, give me some feedback please!

NSFW but barely

________________________________________

You lie in bed wide awake thinking back on the last few days of your little coma situation. You recall everything you heard the boys say while you were under, every word, every kiss. You're practically brimming with love. Sleep eludes you. It's intensely quiet. Lucifer threatened the brother's lives if they so much as stepped out of their rooms tonight to ensure you got proper rest.(No he's not worried about you.) Apparently they all slept outside your door the entire time you were out. They've all been on your mind more constantly lately. In a different way. In your time you're in a happy poly relationship with all of them and you've slept with all of them more times than you can count. In this time.....well...they're all virgins.

You shuffle through each demon in your mind, recalling so many intimate moments, wondering how different this time will be. Did Barbatos explain things to them while they were confined to the castle? Brand new demons. Have they masturbated? Do they watch porn? Have they discovered any of their kinks yet? Should you show them? Or let them figure it out slowly? So many questions. So many possibilities. Where to start? Which lucky demon will be the first to fall...to you. Who will be the second? The third? Fourth? Mmm. Let's get this party started.

*MAMMON*

You already know the answer to who's first. Who better than your first man? So many firsts with that boy. It's only right that he be the first. The first to love you, the first to know you. The rest can wait, the time has to be right for each of them. The fact that you haven't jumped that greedy boys bones already is a testament to your self control. For now, you crawl out of bed, strip to nothing, walk to your dresser and unfold Mammon's white shirt you keep in your drawer. It smells like him. You should probably return this.... You put it on, it comes down just enough to cover your bare ass. Perfect. You grab your ddd and slowly and carefully make your way out into the hall.

"thank fuck I'm a master at sneaking around these halls", you think to yourself, as you quietly walk on the balls of your feet, slowly stepping over every creaky board in your path. It's seems like an eternity has passed by the time you finally make it to the 2nd borns room. You open the door little by little, unsure as to whether or not the demon is sleeping, it's still early for you and he's usually just as nocturnal as you are, even with the neverending darkness of the devildom. You spot the white haired demon as you walk in, sitting on his couch, some long forgotten movie playing on the TV, scrolling intently on his ddd, completely unaware of you walking up behind him, or what's about to come next...

"Hey, pretty boy." you coo at him walking up behind the couch. "AHHH! FUCK! ZAEDA WHAT THE FUCK?! DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!" He holds his right hand to his chest dramatically as he catches his breath, "I coulda hurt ya, dummy!" he pouts. "Aw, sweet boy, I'm sorry I scared you." you smile as you bend down crossing your arms and resting them on the back of the couch as you lean in closely. If only he could see the view from the back. "Ya didn't scare me! Nothin scares the Great Mammon! Ya just caught me off guard is all! Shit, what are ya even doin up, aren't ya s'posed to be restin?" You smile sweetly at the frazzled demon and look into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, "should I go back to bed?" "NOOO! No! ... I- I mean.. it's not like I care..." he trails off. You tilt your head to the side and eye him suspiciously, "hmm". His tsundere tendencies don't faze you anymore. You know he's loved you since before he knew what love really was. You know he thinks the sun shines out your perfect ass. You wait patiently as his thoughts catch up to him. He's looking anywhere but you

"I- I mean...sorry I... I don't want you to go...I-" You smile as you reach out and gently lift his chin up to meet your gaze. Uncertainty swirls in those beautiful eyes shinning up at you and such a pretty little blush across his perfect face. You slide your hand to his cheek and slowly pull him in and plant a gentle kiss on his waiting lips. " I'm not going anywhere, puppy." Barely a whisper into his sweet lips. He melts into your touch as you you rub your thumb over his cheekbone. His blush probably reaches his knees by now. You remove your hand from his face after running it once through his soft hair. His ddd still in his left hand, catches your attention. You lean over slightly for a better look. While you're distracted, mammon takes the time to really soak you in. He looks at your beautiful face, your pretty pink hair, falling waves over your shoulders, those lips that haunt him all hours of the night. His eyes rake down your body, what he can see of it right now, he finally notices the shirt. "Zaeda, is tha-", "Watcha lookin at mams?".... He freezes as he remembers what he was doing before you were standing in front of him. He scrambles as you snatch his ddd from his hand and run behind the pool table. On the screen is a photo album. Full of pictures of you. You and him, but mostly you. You quickly scroll through the seemingly endless pictures (how does he even have so many?). "HEY! NO! STOP IT RIGHT NOW! THAT'S PRIVATE PROPERTY!" He jumps off the couch and runs to you and desperately tries to grab the device as you dodge him over and over, laughing. "Puppyyyy! It's cute! Look at all these! I'm flattered." You hold the ddd up over your head. "It's not what you think! I- was doin somethin- I was just-"

He stops dead in his tracks. Jaw agape.

"Y- you...you're...are you...um...you're not w-wearing anything under that shirt..." You notice a little too late that with your arm above your head like that you can juuust see the bare curve of your ass peeking out from the bottom of his shirt that hangs on your body so perfectly goddamn his heart is gonna bust out of his chest fuck he can see your nipple rings through the thin white fabric fuck why is his dick throbbing

"Fuck...." You turn his ddd off and lay it on the pool table and slowly make your way toward him, holding his gaze. "That part was supposed to be a surprise."

That's all so far! Lemme know what y'all think!

[phaerlax]

For the character meme: Morvay!

Pondering My Morb

@idololivine also asked. These Morvay thoughts are at a premium; the market is starved.

If you also lov the Morv, please join us in Mauve Member, the Morvay Birthday Fanweek!

First impression

The prologue/first chapter made it seem like Morvay was going to be some kind of feisty bratty rude bad boy type. Which would work for me, of course.

Impression now

He's actually just a Large Dog 😭Starved for affection (and cum), baby... a bit stupid, very impulsive, very open, likes to be stepped on but is a little bit (a LITTLE bit) embarrassed/reluctant to admit it. He hits a lot of good spots for me. Also when I saw his nipples it was over wtf those little volcano teats are everything. It's unfair that he's treated so badly by the game, my Morvay enjoyment would rival wolfboy if he had content.

Favorite moment

Okay this question is making me realize that my memory for specific moments is GARBAGE. Everything is so soupy and jumbled together in my brain... also there aren't that many Morvay moments, ugh. Is it cheating to say that I love the moment he gets pet in the new opening lol

I think his last birthday dialogue was really cute: Morvay was distraught that Aster had given him a list of tasks on his birthday, but then he realized that the list that Aster gave him was actually a list of 'delicacies' (guys to suck off lol). I also like it when Aster closes the window before Morvay can fly in, and when Morvay calls Kuya old and gets set on fire.

Idea for a story

You've come to the right place (opening my trenchcoat and showing pockets full of Morvayfic ideas)

🌈 Hardcore denial smut in which a sympathetic Eiden does his best to comfort an extremely punished Morvay who is gagged, caged, plugged, and nipple-taped (he got too silly).

🩸The rare cute Morvaster, in which Aster is overworked sleepy and has a headache from idk doing too much capitalism, and Morvay cautiously takes care of him. Aster is too tired to be mean and just nuzzles into pillowy incubosom.

🐍 Morvay is teaching Yakumo how to give good sloppy. Theory, practice, and demonstration, with a bit of a rush to get into demonstration, but he does care! Morvay is proud when people come to him for sex guidance.

🥞 Morvay is helping the Edmond and knights bust some sort of shady drug ring (he IS a master spy!). During the scuffle, the area gets blasted with sex pollen to which Morvay is immune as a nonhuman. It's up to him to drain everyone's essence so they don't suffer...

📖 As part of an Aster scheme, Morvay needs to woo a noble who is very into religious kink. He gets Olivine to give him pointers on his costume and act. Their sacrilegious practice roleplaying gets out of hand in morvoli horny feedback loop.

🪵 In gratitude for Morvay having saved Topper from some poachers, Quincy agrees to let Morvay suck him off again. But because of previous Morvay-induced trauma, Quincy fully ties him up for it and fucks his throat.

🦊After the latest bout of disrespect, Kuya curses Morvay so that every guy he touches can't get it up. When Morvay caves and wants the curse removed, Kuya subjects him to a mouth soaping (yes my array of punishment kinks is vast).

🐺 Morvay enlists Garu's help in going out on a wilderness expedition to collect some rare "incubus vine" fruit. The vines should be dormant that time of year, but they aren't (Kleinmate change!) and the pair gets plant tentacled.

🤖 Having discovered Blade's magical cum reflavoring abilities, Morvay continues to explore them like Eiden. This time they're doing booze of some kind, but drunk Blade proves himself an absolute menace.

☀️ Morvay gets in trouble in Solaria like he does in the Royal Capital, but Aster isn't there to smooth things over. Dante becomes very annoyed at how unrepentant he seems as he expects to be let go, and deigns to administer a lashing of some sort himself.

💀 Rin is starving Morvay out while he's captured in the Dark Territory. He promises that he'll let Morvay suck his dick (which is exactly like Master's dick) if Morvay does some degrading task. Morvay does it, and then despairs as he realizes that Rin basically doesn't have essence, so sucking his dick is fruitless.

Anyone that wants can take these ideas, run with them, twist them, idc. No need to credit!

Unpopular opinion

My most unpopular opinion about Morvay is that I love Morvay.

My second most unpopular opinion about Morvay is that his SR looks good and I like it better than his SSR. I really enjoy his round, bubbly muscles and his sweet baby face. The creepy yakuza uncle vibe of Mauve Mayhem doesn't really do it for me, with the glasses in particular making him feel too old.

Favorite relationship

It has to be Aster/Morvay from what canon presents. Obviously. Punishment & dubcon are my whole thing and OH BOY ahahah I love how evil Aster is to him, and how Morvay whines 💜 Also love that he's beeg and tittiful and Aster is smol and squeaky.

In the realm of relationships as they exist in my brain, I of course like Morvay/GaruKaru. I like to think that Morvay is proud of how much of a slut Garu has become, and that he has moments of both commiseration and exasperation with Karu earning himself/both of them vampire-inflicted punishment.

Favorite headcanon

I like to play around with Morvay's magic incubus biology and to extrapolate many things from that.

He's an enthusiastic bottom because he's primarily interested in obtaining essence from sex, and sees topping as a net 'loss' (however, he can do it and is great at doing it out of principle).

He can effortlessly perform minor acts of shapeshifting such as retracting his nails, making his tongue longer and stronger, and changing the size of his dick.

His cum is aphrodisiac like his saliva (incubus saliva is canon).

He can use his tail with great dexterity for sex and control its texture.

If he's overloaded with essence, it's possible that his nipples leak magical yaoi fluid because I have a male lactation kink.

He can incapacitate people with essence-draining kisses.

His ass has freaky unnatural fantasy muscles and feels like a toy.

[gabessquishytum]

Hello Friend,

With US Thanksgiving coming up I’m feeling really very thankful and feel the need to tell you. You, without fail, make my day better everyday. I read your blog like some people might their newspapers and it can often help me relax after a long day. Even when I am not your target audience I can always see how your writing is so thoughtful, excited, and well-rounded. You just care so much and I know it must take so much effort to reply to all these asks but you do it with such compassion and vigor that I read things I never thought I would. I have discovered new tropes and kinks I enjoy and it’s even helped me get desensitized to some of my previous icks which I am grateful for. But it has also brought me countless smiles and expanded my imagination in so few words. I think sometimes we internalize that horny writings™️ are LESS than others but you have helped me truly get over that internalized superiority complex I had.

You have genuinely brought me so much joy that I sometimes think I love you in the way only a fan can love a creator. I love you in the way a stranger can never express to another stranger on the internet but longs to. Please let me know if you ever get a Patreon or a Kofi or a Paypal even because I feel such guilt in never being able to repay you for the joy you have brought me. Truly, you are one of my favorite fandom creators ever like top 3 (Aria is in there with you fyi).

I’m sorry if this is creepy but you have truly made me unhinged and I am grateful for it. You compel me to think of my own words for fandom which has never happened to me before. You compel me to think more and to love more (and be more of a horndog lol) and you are so special for that.

I hope you have an amazing holiday season and know that you are loved and appreciated (hopefully by friends and family) but especially by strangers on this hellsite.

All the best,

🧶

P.S. I am sorry this got weirdly rambley and maybe borderline creepy - I am just like this lol.

Beloved 🧶 anon please know I am having a little cry over your message. I am feeling so so under the weather and sick at the moment and this is just the nicest thing i could have received.

It makes me so happy and proud to know that my blog helps you relax and makes you feel good. I do love making my silly posts and collaborating with you guys, it really does mean the world to me. I try not to talk about it a lot but I am currently very disabled and as a result I can't work, so I've kinda started seeing this blog as my fun little job that brings enrichment into my life. It makes me happy and gives me a sense of accomplishment and community and I'm so grateful for that.

Every time someone writes to me with a kink they enjoy or a prompt or anything really, I DO feel so much enthusiasm and care for each one and I'm so glad that you guys can feel that in the posts.

I'm so thankful to all of you and especially you 🧶 anon, it means the world to get such lovely feedback on my weird little beloved horny passion project. Love you all.

[fallloverfic]

TGCF donghua Season 2, Episode 9 thoughts

This episode T-T Very good ep. Spoilers for the show and the book below.

Qi Rong looks really pretty aldkjaldja I mean yes, he looks like Xie Lian, duh, but also alkdjal he just looks pretty <.< I really like his braided hair :3 I think they did a good job making the two of them similar enough without being identical. It's the little things like his hair style and mouth movements that sell it.

The gentle Xie Lian hand touch on Hua Cheng's back T-T

Hua Cheng like no I am not stopping because there is an injustice here that is hurting you and I refuse to let it slide even if I have to hurt you to do it.

They really got across Hua Cheng's rage at Qi Rong really well. Like obviously he spent last episode beating Qi Rong up and he's doing that again here, duh, but it's just... there's a lot of stuff they do with Hua Cheng's other movements and expressions that's just really excellent.

Okay the angry budaoweng Lang Qianqiu crawling out of Xie Lian's robes and jumping on the ground next to writhing Qi Rong just... the animation is so good. It's a really good-looking scene.

Distracted by Qi Rong bein pretty.

Xie Lian insisting on keeping up the partial lie because it's better than the whole truth T-T

Qi Rong looks so happy to discover it's Xie Lian! His cousin! And of course it's really because he's making the connection between Fangxin and Xie Lian, but like... for a moment you can think about the little boy who loved his cousin who came to his rescue, and idolized him.

Qi Rong's laughter is animated really well. I just love all the details when the characters are all standing together.

Another gentle Xie Lian on Hua Cheng hand touch T-T He really doesn't want Hua Cheng to dirty his hands dealing with Qi Rong. Am I thinking about Qi Rong being used to bullies and scorn and unsurprised this last family member turned their back on him, it's just normal, nope, not at all.

I do like the way Qi Rong's hair pillows over his jacket collar.

aslkdjaldj Qi Rong rolling over in laughter is just alkjdalj

I love this terrible man your honor. Love him.

Xie Lian fightin his own fights against Qi Rong. Love him. I love Hua Cheng always going to Xie Lian's defense and honestly nothing that Xie Lian doesn't typically defend himself (for various reasons), but really, Xie Lian just keeps himself in reserve a lot. He can dish it out as he pleases. The first thing to know about any weapon is when not to use it. And Xie Lian does love his weapons.

Hua Cheng watching Xie Lian slap Qi Rong: -new kink unlocked-

(I mean he's always been into Xie Lian hitting people but the way they framed Hua Cheng's awed expression while the dramatic theme plays made me lol)

Xie Lian... not... stoppin Hua Cheng slowly step towards Qi Rong this time... >:3 (this entire episode is so fun with movement, just love it so much)

I truly love that Xie Lian, who is generally viewed as weak by just about everyone, does not even remotely view Lang Qianqiu as a martial rival. Like he is not even remotely intimidated by this guy. He knows Lang Qianqiu's abilities, that he's a full on god with a lot of power (unlike Xie Lian, who's wearing two cursed shackles). But Xie Lian can and will still take him on. Not using power doesn't make you weak. Knowing when and how to properly use it is what matters, and that's a theme throughout the story, but this episode/arc in particular.

roflmao what did Hua Cheng do to Qi Rong before stepping off of him. Qi Rong's Chinese VA is doing a great job.

Aww the Hualian animal masks. With matching red pearl earrings. Cute.

Xie Lian catching the plates just alkjdlaj That straight left leg. Love him.

I also still really love how much of Fangxin's outfit is butterflies.

Qi Rong comin in to spoil everything :/ Terrible man. Love him tho.

Also I didn't realize but a couple episodes ago the ending credits animation changed a little, and it's very pretty!

A wonderful episode! Had some more bad English sub moments, but it wasn't the worst. The beautiful animation, character movements, little character moments and interactions, everything happening just... It was really good. Loved it.

Also wanna boost this really good post-coffin scene Hualian fic I read ages ago.

Other episode thoughts for season 2 (didn't start till episode 3):

S02E03

S02E04

S02E05

S02E06

S02E07

S02E08

S02E09 (you are here)

S02E10

S02E11

S02E12

[amypihcs]

Hello friends in Doyle! Today's story starts with... Holmes being outed for bad posture™

Watson must've been QUITE put out by stinky chemistry moment and DECIDED to share this with him public. See Holmes, the whole of London now knows that you sit bad. Try and sit DECENTLY (won't say straight because we are not straight at all. expecially not you.)

Well, what to do when doing chemistry?

Why not shocking your husband for a chance?

He's SO mischievous. He wants to play! Confess, Watson, confess!

Note this words. Apparently our good Watson forgot who his Holmes is...

NOW to the explanation. Holmes is enjoying this sooo much

Holmes, why did you inspect the groove between his left forefinger and his thumb? Were you perhaps kissing your Watson's hand?

Masterful explanation! Also, i LOVE the point 5. Watson struggled with hazard games and so on and Holmes helps him with that! The sheer trust and love between them, helping each other with their struggles. I love them.

But now, look for it!

TAAAAC not two mins later!

I swear, Granada Holmes did this part PERFECTLY.

But we DO have a real case! And Holmes passes to his Watson a paper to examine.

And apparently Watson can't make much out of it as well. Oh, this Mr Cubitt is very anxious to know the solution of the problem? Well, time to meet him!

Watson?? Is?? Describing someone?? POLITELY?? He should like this Mr Cubitt! And, i mean, HOW CAN YOU NOT? He's a golden retriever!

And Holmes... be careful to the way you address that paper... because you might find yourself in some days reenacting the figures!

Well, let Mr Cubitt explain now! Why would he ever make much of such prank?

Me? nonono, my wife, i'm so worried for her! -the most in love man of England. Maybe only Watson is at that level.

Please, now, tell us the stor- WATSON!

You do have a hand kink, my dear doctor.

Back to the story. What happened?

Are all these victorians marrying after knowing a person for two weeks? Holmes is not that surprised, his husband wrote that he proposed to (lol) his wife (lmao) like 4 days after they met! But Mr Cubitt REALLY trusts his Elsie. He's just such a sweetheart, so in love with her... I love them so much. Well, they have been sincere and had an agreement! And it was working! Well, until -dun dun duuun- a letter came.

And she was SCARED.

And stayed so! poor girl! And then came the dancing men

And it was a SERIOUS, faint-worthy thing for Elsie Cubitt! Wanna hug her!

I'm so glad that Watson approves of Mr Cubitt! He's really a nice man!

Well, the interview comes to an end

And Sherlock 'I care about the CASE not about the PEOPLE' Holmes is thinking to the 'case' very much. He's worried.

Two weeks later Mr Cubitt pays a second visit and Holmes asks his Watson to stay with him for the interview. Because he needs his support doctor.

Mr Cubitt is worried as hell. He discovered something!

SAW THE MAN WHO WAS DRAWING THEM? Oh damn.

Oh and brought many more messages!

Holmes... HOLMES PLEASE. Where have you put your tact? -sigh-

This is how he saw the man. He didn't see any man, he saw 'a figure' and that figure was doing the drawings.

And Elsie koala-held him out of harm's way, apparently. Mr Cubitt now gives Holmes all the drawings. And a new one, one that appeared on the morning after this fact.

And that took the liberty to try and translate! Because yes! It already appears to be a code!

Mr Cubitt WOULD also have a plan to deal with this guy...

And i can't really find fault in it... but i guess Holmes' right.

Gotta be careful with this stuff.