#that sounds dramatic i actually kind of enjoy being single

[izzielizzie]

izzie, its valentines day, what are you up to? anything specific planned or are you sad, lonely and single like me?

it is indeed valentine's day. i had a normal day expect instead of just being lonely and single i got to be constantly reminded i'm lonely and single.

[cinhomi]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: best friend Han Jisung x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: there's a thunderstorm outside and you don't have an umbrella. luck wants that you're near you best friend's apartment complex and you decide to wait for the rain to stop and your clothes to dry while watching a movie with him... but things escalate after the tension between you two finally snaps.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut, friends to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: play-fighting, swearing, soft dom Jisung, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, no protection (boo-hoo), multiple orgasms, creampie, messy making out, hint of slight choking, dry humping, tiny bit of possessiveness, praise, dirty talk, slight manhandling, overstimulation, spitting.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8K

I don't know if anyone can tell but I'm actually in love with this man

The sound of the doorbell ringing resonated in your ears, feeling already relaxed by the familiar pattern of the short melody. The veins of the wooden door too, you knew them by heart, and istantly felt less tense by looking at them: you were soaked from head to toe and were feeling kind of dumb standing by his apartment in your state, cold and shaking, but you knew you'd be welcomed and he would take care of you no matter what. You heard hurrying footsteps approaching the entrance and in a second the shining smile of your best friend appeared in front of you, just to drop one second after.

"Oh my god baby, are you okay?"

Baby, he always called you that but every single time your belly tingled as if it was the first. Was it necessary? Not really, but you didn't want to stop him from saying that. It was so sweet and intimate and you enjoyed it when your cheeks would start to feel warm because of the petname (a bit too much maybe).

He gently wrapped his hand around your arm and pulled you inside his apartment, leaving you at the entrance for a second, running away just to come back with a towel.

"Were you outside? Didn't you bring an umbrella? Aaah you're so dumb sometimes..." he didn't even wait for your reply, he just threw the cloth over your head and started rubbing it gently to dry your hair just a little bit.

"I was doing some errands around here and I decided to walk instead of taking the bus, but it suddenly started raining like, heavily, and I wasn't able to search for a place to run into... so I just accepted my destiny and took a stroll until I came here" you sighed, dramatically taking a hand to your forehead and closing your eyes, not really able to hide the growing smile on your face when you heard him chukle and gently caress your face to take away the remaining droplets of water. He lowered down until his eyes met yours, then he tilted his head to the side as his gaze softened.

"You dummy... hope you didn't catch a cold or I'll be the one that will have to take care of you y'know!?" he started to take off your jacket, his hands lingering on your arms with his soft touch, then putting aside your shoes before placing the same towel on the floor for you to step on it. "Now, go take a shower and I'll search for something to give you while I wash your stuff, okay baby?"

At your nod he went ahead and with his finger he gestured you to follow him through your giggles, while the warmth in your belly started spreading even more hot than before. He made you feel so loved and special, always a priority, and you cherished little moments like these, it filled your heart with joy being in his presence... and for him it was the same, you both knew.

"Leave your clothes outside the door angel, I'll pick them up later" he said, before giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing you what he chose for you to wear.

"I'll wait in my bedroom with a movie ready to watch～" a wink and he turned around, his shoulders seeming a little more broad and muscular... did he start to go to the gym again? The terrible heating of your face crept under your skin again by the thought of him doing his excercise routine. You saw him once when you tried to do it together, all sweaty and panting and eyes half closed, that time you nearly planted your face on the cute light blue-flowery-patterned mat he gifted you with lewd thoughts racing in your head during your thirty seconds plank.

The question accompanied you in the shower anyway, where you couldn't really think about anything else but how much love you felt for him and how you were desperate for him to know already.

All your friends encouraged you to get together but you never understood if Jisung's reaction was positive or negative whenever they teased you two.

And you knew you've always loved him, you became his friend just to get close to him after all, but things escalated and you were never really able to escape the situation and just confess, so you kind of went along with it until you decided not to risk ruining everything.

Because you had something really special going on, connected on a deep level. It was like you two had your own little world, where you were comfortable and safe in each other's presence.

Your thoughts went by as you finished showering, finally putting on his clothes, heart reacing when you saw your reflection on the big mirror in his bathroom. Hair still wet falling flat on your head you quetly stepped into his room in the dim light, the screen of his laptop flashing his face with different colors as he was still searching for the right movie to watch.

Jisung saw you with the corner of his eye, so he lifted his gaze not really expecting the sight that was waiting for him.

If only you knew how excited he was while searching in his wardrobe for some of his clothes for you. It wasn't the first time, no, but it always made him feel giddy and soft.

This time though, he couldn't predict that familiar and quite scandalous sensation in his lower abdomen to appear.

Jisung hated himself in these situations. You were there, looking perfect, innocent, angelic, and he was only looking at the quite accentuated tug of your nipples through your favorite shirt of his; how your sexy curves were hidden by the oversized article of clothing leaving his immagination wilding, how his damn boxers weren't even visible on you so your legs appeared naked in front of him, his brain much more quicker than his sense of shame and imagining how would it be if you weren't wearing anything at all under there.

He was already about to explode when he picked up your cute panties and bra to wash. His favorite color, little lace details decorating them, so simple yet so tempting he had to palm himself to find some relief. But now...

"Sungie you okay?" suddenly you were beside him, kneeling on the bed and scooting closer to him, the cutted collar of the shirt hanging low due to the lazy movements you were making, exposing your collarbones. Jisung had to swallow and blink twice before processing everything that was happening.

"Oh, yeah, totally fine y/n. Come here..."

He lifted his toned arm and delicately took you closer, and without putting too much thought into it, you placed one leg over his lap, snuggling onto his chest that was heavily lifting and dropping all of a sudden.

"You look amazing with my clothes, you know that? So swag" he smiled, trying to concentrate elsewhere that wasn't the ache he felt whenever he accidentally let his fantasies about you take control of his thoughs. But how could he refrain himself when he got to see you get flustered like crazy? It was so satisfying, but frustrating at the same time because he didn't know if he would ever be able to go further with you, like he always wanted. He hated being your friend, because since day one he wanted to be a partner to you, and he lost his chance many times in the past so he also lost hope for something romantically serious between you two.

"Ji, nobody says 'swag' anymore... gosh you're so old" you rolled your eyes in fake annoyance, and he gasped, disdain showing on his face as his free hand took place on his chest, near his heart.

"I'm offended. Make it up to me now, immediately in this right moment or I'll make you regret it"

A challenging gaze was now plastered on his stupidly beautiful face, all the extra acting dissipating from him. Who were you to back up? But truth was that you absolutely couldn't say "no" to him nor fight him too much: it was just a matter of time before he would have you under his control, always, so you just didn't see a point in denying that anymore.

"What do you want?" your tone was firm, unamused as you straightened your back and faced him properly.

"You have to let me kiss your ugly face whenever I want for the rest of the night"

You squeezed your eyes shut just to open them again and see him with a serious expression.

"It's only fair" he adjusted an immaginary pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose and puckered his lips while his brows raised, gaining a light slap on his chest from you while you started laughing.

You loved this about him, how he could make you smile and feel good effortlessly.

"Alright... everything for you Jisung"

Your voice was soft now, and despite the fun atmosphere your words were very serious. Jisung didn't stop looking into your eyes, not even for a second while your lips moved and pronounced his name that way. Only you did this to him. He couldn't help but imagine how you would sound if he made you feel good, use his tongue on you, his fingers and more...

You on your part were now feeling the weight of his arm wrapped around you and his hand hanging loosely over your shoulder, his fingers brushing the skin of your neck, goosebumps raising from your back.

Jisung finally detached from your stare and returned his attention to the screen positioned in front of him. "I thought this movie would be alright. I'm not sure about it but while I was looking for other things it kept popping up so I guess it's a sign. You okay with this?"

He was always so considerate of your opinion, on everything, and that made you feel heard and validated. So sweet, so rare of someone to be so fond of what you think.

"Mhmh" you nodded, leaning your head on his chest as he pressed 'play'.

The movie wasn't that interesting, not that one of you cared though. You and Jisung were teasing and annoying each other while the dialogues and the music (lowered few minutes before) served just as a background noise. Much louder was the sound of the rain and the thunders outside, and you smiled remembering yourself few hours before, all alone walking in the rain.

But now you were in the arms of a person you adored, all cozy and comfy with your heart fluttering nonstop while he stroked your bare thighs, scratching them lightly with his colored nails. It was you that painted them, chose the nail polish, did the design... it was during one of your nights together the week prior.

You came back to reality when Jisung started leaving few pecks on your right cheek, that trailed down your jaw making his lips snap loudly, almost abnoxiously against your skin.

"What are you... doing?"

You tried to shove his head off of you but he didn't even want to consider stopping.

"I thought we had an agreement? Are you that type of person that doesn't respect agreements? Nah that's not possible, you're a good girl... am just cuddling after all, hm?" he purred with his lower voice, a hint of a sly smirk appearing on his lips, you could feel it when he brushed them over your sensitive spot again and again. You knew he was in a playful mood, it happened quite often, but you were fearing for your little whimpers to slip and accidentally be heard.

"Ji... Ji it tickles stop..."

His hands moved and he was now menacing to place them on your sides. You thought he finally ceased with his intententions, but when you let your guard down Jisung started to move his slender fingers all together and felt your muscles tighten beneath his hold. Oh, oh it was sexy.

With a bit more force he moved your leg with his, flipping you on your back so he was on top of you free to access whatever part of your body he felt like would be a vulnerable spot.

The pc was long forgotten on the edge of the bed about to fall, but the only important thing in that moment was the battle for your survival.

Laughter filled the room while you tried to kick him with your feet, to grab a pillow and throw it on his face, to plea him to give you a chance to fight back.

He was enjoying himself, a lot. Your contorted expression made his chest tighten, as well as his sweatpants even if he felt like a total pervert.

"Sungie ple-please s-top! Can't-" you didn't even have enough strenght to form a full sentence, the feeling of his touch all over you being too intense and exciting. Were you being inappropriate? Probably. But you really loved having him all over you.

"Have- have mercy!"

Jisung's hands stopped their movements and rested on your sides, with his fingers caressing your skin, the same fingers that slipped under your shirt the moment the situation became chaotic.

Your legs were caging his middle, bringing his hips closer to yours. You both weren't sure about how you ended up in such position but you weren't complaining either. His cheeks tinted with a shade of dark red at the realization of the hardest erection he's ever had brushing your groin. It was impossible you weren't feeling it, and, after a few seconds, as he expected, your eyes widened and looked directly at him with the istictive action of your teeth catching your lower lip.

"I'm... I'm sorry y/n you know sometimes it's random andー" the fake excuses he wanted to give died in his throat when you moved against him. It was delicate but the faint friction of your barely clothed cunt against his bulge made his breath hitch.

"Baby please don't... I'll just get off and we'll keep watching the movie" but you moved again, this time firmer, a bit more confident; the wet spot on his boxers that you were wearing was by now too evident to hide. He too, was starting to leak from the tip, staining his grey sweatpants.

Jisung abruptdly got off of you, chest struggling to follow his breath.

"What are you doing, baby?" his voice was now trembling, eyes scanning your whole body searching for any sign of discomfort.

"Sungie... Sungie please forgive me I don't know whyー"

"Do you want to keep going?" it was him that interrupted you this time. Not a word was dared to be spoken for a few seconds, only leading sound the one coming from the movie, that seemed so distant in your ears. Fear, terror went through his whole body when he realized what he actually said, all blood gone somewhere else that wasn't his brain.

"I do" you nodded, doe eyes looking up at him, that was coming back closer to you.

Jisung stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, all while slowly closing the distance between your bodies.

"Are you sure? I mean you want to... me and you?" almost whispering, he looked at you so intensely you could've fainted.

You nodded, slowly, unsure where to look since his gorgeous, handsome face was mere centimeters away.

"Can I kiss you?"

So close you didn't even register him moving and colliding his lips with yours after your whispered "yes".

Immediately what were a few pecks became open wide kisses, that let your tongues explore. Jisung lifted your shirt enough to expose your breasts, hands flying to feel them, squeeze, roll your nipples between his fingers; you gasped at his sudden decision, letting him kiss you deeply, starting to suck your tongue. It was becoming so messy and sloppy, but it wasn't enough dirty to him.

"Open your mouth, open" one hand grabbing your face, thumb parting your lips and resting on top of your tongue. You saw him purse his lips a few times, just to harshly spit in your mouth soon after.

"Swallow it angel" he said, softly, and so you did, before starting to suck on his finger eagerly, making him groan and deliver an harsher thrust up your groin. Jisung resumed the kissing, still spitting every now and then, making a mess all around your lips that he was biting from time to time.

You too were grinding on him, using his hard on to relieve the suffucating feeling in your core, roughly pressing yourself against him, making him stay attached to you by closing your fists around the fabric of his shirt. Soon he removed it, too hot and sweaty to be comfortable in such situation, the only way to keep him closer being scratching his back while trying to grab his muscles.

When he pushed you away from him down on the matress confusion took place in your face, but before you could question him Jisung was already flat on top of the covers, head between your thighs, delicately removing those useless boxers by sliding them down your legs. Seductive was the right word to describe his behaviour: seductive in the way he caressed every inch of your skin with his fingers, seductive how he discarded the piece of fabric on the floor carelessly, seductively staring at you, always, every second of it. And Jisung sighed, he felt relieved when he finally saw your cunt, so pretty and glistening for him. You almost blushed at his reaction, at his whispered curses and praises.

He was teasing you, and he was teasing himself too since all he wanted in that moment was to take you. You were wet enaugh, he could've stretched you with his cock, but he waited too long for it to be just that, just sex.

"Jisung..." your voice angelic to his ears, he closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate and engrave it in his mind forever. It wasn't like the many other times you said his name, this one was special, so special he was almost afraid to forget it.

"Say it again baby. Say my name again..."

"Jisung, Jisung, Jisung..." your faint smile with your half lidded eyes made his cheeks flush. You were truly the most beautiful thing in his life.

Your hand reached the top of his head, going lower to rest on his cheek, stroking it, just to receive a kiss on your palm.

"We're still in time if you want to stop"

"You spat in my mouth and you're practically breathing against my pussy, Sungie, I don't think I want to go back" you chuckled, making him follow you. Even in a moment like that, you two managed to laugh. And it was so special, to see his genuine smile like that, that reflected in his eyes as well.

Without further doubt, he took his nose to brush your inner thigh, leaving a trail of kisses that led him to leave a testing lick on your sex, tongue flat touching everything at the same time. The hand that was back on his hair grabbed a few strands, making him hiss from the pleasurable pain. His arms locked your legs up his shoulders, dragging you closer until no space was left between you two.

"Taste so good baby, so sweet" you hear him mumble down there, starting to drag his tongue along your folds, parting them, finding your clit and kissing it gently. You started to squeeze his head, timidly grinding against his tongue but failing because of the restrained limbs.

Jisung started lapping your juices as if it was the only thing able to keep him alive, all while humping his bed desperately. It felt so good, he didn't even care if he was struggling to breathe, but it was becoming harder to move so he parted your legs further pressing them down. Jisung lifted his gaze, detaching from your cunt only to give you an order, after literally drooling over it.

"Don't move angel. Be good and stay still"

He made you so flustered, he made you chew your lower lip from embarassment, he made you cover your face, always, but in that precise moment it was as if every word of his set you on fire. And with that, he returned to his ministrations, two fingers magically appearing to play with your hole, prodding at it, teasingly making an in-and-out motion just with the very tip. A torture, he was torturing you. You already felt so close.

"Sungie please..."

Jisung smirked without ever leaving your pussy; he started to flick your clit from every direction, circling it, sucking like he would've done with a lollipop, while he started to insert his fingers properly. They went in easily, curling them aroud to find your sweet spot. He had to restrain himself from moving or he would've come, imagining how your insides would feel around his cock in a few moments.

Once found (he could understand that from the pornographic moan you let out), Jisung kept hitting on that delicious place pumping his digits without stopping even after your desperate pleading to slow down. Slow down for what? He was loving every second of it, the wet sounds echoing in the room covering the ones of the voices behind the screen of the movie still playing.

He was making you feel like you had never felt before, all of your senses conducing to him and whatever he was doing to you. You suddenly started to see stars, throwing your head back, whines and moans constricting your lungs.

"Let go baby, make a mess, cum f'me" voice muffled and low as your legs came back around his head, making him whine. Jisung loved the way you were reacting, moving and writhing everywhere, feeling so proud in the way he was pleasuring you by slurpling everything you gave him.

"Oh shit, Sungieー fuck Jisung!" a particular snap of his fingers, that hard suck, his moans vibrating inside of you, his eyes fixated on yours... you couldn't take it anymore, letting go of all the tension and letting your body fall even if you didn't know you were lifting yourself high up, tugging his hair impossibly tight. You clenched hard around his fingers forcing him to let them stay still pressing firmly, increasing the pleasure.

Jisung stayed there for a moment licking you clean to not waste a drop of your cum, almost sending you into overstimulation making your clit sting; he kissed it again one last time before freeing himself from your hold, quickly checking if he came too without noticing due to the heated moment. It was possible, since he was feeling as good as you.

And you still wanted more. You had one of the hardest orgasms of your entire life and you wanted him again.

"Want you inside..." you managed to blurt out, your hands trying to reach his figure.

"Yeah baby? Want me? Wait a second, I'll go grab aー"

"No... no need, 's okay" you pouted at the idea of having him far away from you even for a second, not wanting to let him go. Jisung though, felt his still restrained cock spurt a little at your words, cold sweat running down his back.

"Come inside Ji, want your cum!" you added, voicing the fantasies you happened to touch yourself to before all that.

His stare, intense and penetrating was making you tear up from anticipation. It was as if you awakened something in him, pupils darkening while lowering his pants and underwear all together. When they reached down enough his dick beautifully slapped against his groin, tip red and abused by the restricting fabric.

Jisung smirked to himself and got embarassed at the same time, taking silent notes on how your jaw faintly dropped, your eyes got wider... on how you didn't stop looking at his length even when he was directly in front of you, softly stroking it near your pussy. He too, couldn't stop looking at your body, shirt still crumpled up under your chin that he carefully provided to free you from. So cute under him, vulnerable and helpless, he wanted to protect you from every bad thing in the world.

He aligned himself to your entrance teasingly even if you were still sensitive, getting on top and propping himself up to not crush you.

Jisung kissed your forehead, making you smile widely. He then kissed your nose, both your cheeks, and lastly your lips, slowly, savoring every second of that sparkling sensation only you two could make.

"Mine. You're gonna be mine" he whispered against your kiss, starting to move forward.

Just the tip was larger than his two fingers, the new stretch making you whine and search for his eyes. Brows furrowed in concentration, he noticed your request of ressurance and patted your head, combing your hair.

"You're doing amazing baby," he got a bit further, continuing to kiss your face: "I know you can take it all, you're my good girl"

He quickly bottomed out as you gasped, the trimmed hair on his pube sticking to you. You couldn't stop whining while touching him all over, tracing your hands on his chest, back, arms, not knowing where to rest them. You lastly opted for clutching them around his neck pulling him against you, still hard nipples grazing his chest making him moan.

You were his weakness, he didn't know how he could last that long. Your touch made him go crazy, it had always been that way, so he got surprised by himself. Maybe it was the thought of making you feel good for as long as possible, maybe the desire of not wanting to waste such opportunity so easily... but he was starting to surrender to pleasure. Jisung wanted you to be the star of the night, but your words, the sounds you were making for him, your walls tightening around his dick, your neediness, everything was screaming to him that in reality he wasn't a strong man, not in that sense.

He started to focus a little bit more on his pleasure, getting lost in the feeling of your velvety walls sucking him in everytime he pulled back. It didn't help that whenever he reached the limit of his length, he touched yours too, kissing your cervix gently. Jisung was making love to you in a way that made you feel wanted, appreciated, taken care of, and you could never have enough of it with that rhythm.

You both started to meet each other halfway his thrusts that were becoming progressively more fast, squelching sounds making your face become impossibly hot and his lips curve upwards. His brows were still knitted together when he silently brought one hand around your neck and the other resting on one of your tits. His thrusts got sloppier, losing their precision; you could feel your breath hitch, his hold being gentle but still tightening and releasing fast enough to let your high pitched moans out. Jisung started to snap his hips against you, his own whines and grunts accompanying yours.

You both were getting closer, desperately chasing your highs as if you never had one before.

"I'm close Ji!" you said with all the strenght you had in your body, gathering your coscience to let out that phrase.

"Gonna cum together yeah baby? Yeah? Want me to make you mine?" he asked between sharp thrusts, rolling his eyes when he could catch a glimpse of you nodding.

Few other thrusts, a feverish kiss and a mutual whispered "I love you" was enough to make your vision blank: muscles contracting for who knows how long, his cum filling you to the brim, strangled moans dying in your throat.

Jisung stayed inside of you until he was soft, not daring to move or alter in any way that sacred moment. You two shared a tender kiss before he rolled on his side, but holding you so that you could get on top of him, still connected.

The ending credits of the movie started to roll, quiet music guiding his strokes on your lower back. You slowly started to calm your panting, comfortably leaning on his pecs, listening to his steading heartbeat.

"So... are we, like, together now?"

You looked up at him without moving and sighed.

"I don't know, not sure..." your joke wasn't that effective, since you couldn't hide the shy smile forming on your lips.

"Not sure she says, while being full of my cum"

"Jisung!!" a slap was landed on his bicep in opposition to his laughter, that you too were holding in.

"I love you baby"

"I love you too, baby"

The storm outside stopped, leaving you two in a comforting silence, in which you celebrated and accepted your blosoming love.

[engie-ivy]

(I really thought this was gonna be a lot shorter than it is! I still couldn't resist the epilogue😅 Written for @wolfstarmicrofic 30th: Traitor, to add some Fluff to an angsty prompt!)

1651 words

Part Two: Label-Stuff

Remus and Sirius are in a strong, committed relationship.

They just don't know it yet.

Couple-Stuff

"Remus, it's just you and me now, there's no one else left." Mary clutches Remus' shoulders as she looks him in the eyes. "We're the last ones standing, the only ones who haven't succumbed. The others all have fallen. It's just you and me."

Lily rolls her eyes. "Dramatic much, Mary?"

Mary shakes her head disappointedly. "Alice was a lost cause ever since she laid eyes on Frank back in third grade. Then Marlene met Dorcas at the coffeeshop and we lost her pretty soon after that. Of course no one can forget the day Gideon took Emmeline away. And now the unthinkable has happened, and our very own Lily gave in to James Potter, of all people." Mary pats Remus' shoulder. "We're the last ones who are still living our best single lives, free and independent."

"Goodness, Mary," Alice sighs. "You talk like being in a relationship means your life is over. It's just the beginning of a whole new and exciting phase!"

Lily nods in agreement. "I must say, it's a lot better than I thought it would be. There are actually so many new experiences to enjoy in life as a couple!"

"Yeah," Marlene says. "Even that stupid lameass couple-stuff isn't so bad when you have someone whom you enjoy being in a stupid lameass couple with. Like going to the bloody Farmer's Market on Saturday morning and sharing one of those giant, ridiculous caramel syrup waffles."

Mary looks unimpressed. "I spend Saturday morning in my bed after partying on Friday night, because, oh yeah, I still have a life."

"I actually like the Farmer's Market," Remus disagrees. "I usually go with Sirius. He pretends he thinks it's all so lame, but who always wants to share the syrup waffle?" He chuckles fondly.

"It's not just outings either," Lily says. "Just the normal everyday stuff too, like cooking, having dinner, doing the dishes, you never have to do it alone anymore."

"Sitting on my couch in my pj's watching trash tv with a bowl of food in my lap is like the best moment of my day," Mary says. "Never eating alone anymore sounds like a literal nightmare," she shudders.

Remus shrugs. "With Sirius and I being roommates, I haven't really been doing those things alone for years."

Emmeline glances at him. "Well, yeah, I guess you can do those kinds of things with a roommate too, but as a couple, you can add sappy romance to that everyday life! Candlelit dinners, movie dates, walks on the beach, watching the sunset…"

"Why does that have to be exclusively for couples?" Remus protests. "I mean, Sirius and I both love dinner and a movie, or taking the dog to the beach and watching the sunset. We can just do those things together."

Mary gives Remus a strange look, but then focuses back on Emmeline. "I can do all those things with three different guys each week if I want to."

Emmeline shakes her head. "It's not the same as being with the one whom you know is your person."

Alice thinks for moment, trying to find the right words. "Think about it like this," she says slowly. "When you're all dolled up, in full makeup, wearing your best outfit, ready for a night of fun, yes, you can have a good time with anyone. But the best thing about being a couple is that when you feel like absolute crap and look like an absolute mess and just want to stay in bed all day, your person will also be there, taking care of you, bringing you comfort food, making you feel better."

"Sirius has a sixth sense for when I'm having a bad day," Remus says with a soft smile. "Whenever I feel down, Sirius will bring home my favourite chocolate cinnamon buns, which they only sell at a bakery on the other side of town. And he's probably the only one who can make my tea exactly as I like it. He will make sure there's always a mug with hot tea on my nightstand when I'm sick."

Alice tilts her head and studies Remus thoughtfully.

Mary arches an eyebrow looking at Remus. "I was gonna say isn't that what you've got a mum for, but apparently, you can also have a roommate for that." She shakes her head. "Anyways, I still don't think having someone to bring me tea when I'm cranky is a good enough reason to have to constantly take someone else into account, deal with jealousy and spend time with in-laws you don't like."

"But even that is suddenly not so bad anymore!" Lily argues. "I always thought that I would hate having to spend my Sundays having dinner with my in-laws, but James is taking me to his parents' house this Sunday for the first time, and I must say, I'm actually excited!"

"Oh, you should be!" Remus says enthusiastically. "Sunday dinners at the Potters' are amazing! I'll tell you, Monty's Sunday roast is to die for!"

The girls all stare at him.

Remus scratches his head awkwardly. "Sirius started taking me with him years ago." He smiles sheepishly. "He says I'm Effie and Monty's favourite by now."

Lily keeps staring at Remus as she continues. "And I'm also going to spend Christmas Day with James' family…"

"Oh," Remus immediately chimes in. "Great! Effie pulls out all stops. Sirius and I always help with-"

"Bloody hell, Remus!" Mary breaks in. "You bloody traitor!"

Remus closes his mouth and blinks at Mary in confusion.

"Here I was, thinking that you were my last ally among the couples, but it turns out that you've been in a bloody relationship with Sirius Black this whole time!"

"I'm in a… With… What?" Remus sputters. "No! Sirius and I are friends, just friends!"

"Remus," Lily says calmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "The only way your relationship with Sirius differs from a couple's, is that you're not having sex with him."

Remus' cheeks turn red and he averts his eyes.

Lily's eyes widen. "Remus John Lupin!" She gasps. "You didn't!"

Remus' face turns bright red as he stares at his hands. "It… happened. Once or twice."

Lily shakes her head. "I can't bloody believe you!"

Remus lifts his head and looks at her defiantly. "Well, can you blame me?" He says defensively. "You know what he looks like! Besides, what's the harm?" He shrugs. "We're both single, but we still both have… urges, so to speak, and we find each other physically attractive, so why not?"

"And do either of you ever sleep with anyone else?" Marlene asks seemingly casually, studying her nails.

"I'm not," Remus says. "I mean, Sirius is just objectively incredibly attractive, no one can deny that, and we have great… uhm, chemistry in the bedroom, so it really wouldn't make sense for me to go out of my way to pick up some random guy. I don't really know about Sirius, but I don't think…" Remus trails off, pausing on the idea of Sirius with someone else and feeling inexplicably nauseous, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to change the subject. "Look, this is all very personal, and none of your business!"

"And do either of you ever date anyone else?" Marlene asks undeterred.

"We're not dating!"

"Fine." Marlene rolls her eyes. "Does either of you ever date anyone?"

Remus shakes his head. "Why would we? Sirius is my best friend for a reason, I can't imagine having a better time with anyone else, and I have zero desire to spend an evening making awkward small talk with a stranger. Besides, we both aren't looking for anything. Sirius does not want to give up on his freedom, and I don't want to deal with all the expectations and accompanying anxiety that come with a relationship."

"Oh, for god's sake, I can't bloody believe it!" Lily pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. "You and Sirius are both so bloody afraid of commitment, but you completely failed to notice you've been in a bloody committed relationship to each other for years!"

"Sirius' and mine relationship is platonic!" Remus insists. "And, well, sometimes also physical, I guess. Platonic and physical, not romantic. I mean, not that I don't love him. Of course I love him, but more in a way that we complete each other. Sirius just feels like home, he's the only one who…" Remus trails off and runs a hand through his hair. "Wait, what was I saying again?"

Mary gives him a flat look. "I believe you were explaining how you love Sirius and are physically attracted to him, he's your other half and you're safe haven, but oh, all in a purely platonic way of course."

Remus groans and hides his face in his hands. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Jamie?" Lily asks hesitantly.

James hums while he's laying with his head on Lily's lap, as she runs her fingers through his hair (like she has absolutely not been itching to do since fifth grade, no, absolutely not).

"Would you…" Lily is very careful to breach the topic. James isn't exactly good at dealing with change, and she doesn't want to upset him. Remus and Sirius are his best friends, and he might not be happy with the dynamic of their group potentially changing. Besides, those boys are both like brothers to him, so what if it makes him uncomfortable if the relationship between the two of them turns out to be not-so-brotherly?

Lily braces herself. "How would you feel about Remus and Sirius potentially one day being… more than friends?"

James stills, and a moment passes with him just laying motionless with his head under her hand, as Lily holds her breath.

Then James sits up and turns to her, his eyes wide and blinking at her. "Haven't they been a couple for the past three years?"

Read Part Two here!

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something

A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.

My Master List | Ao3

—

“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.

“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”

“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.

You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.

“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”

“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.

“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”

“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.

“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”

You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.

“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”

You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.

The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.

“Sure, I guess”, you say.

“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.

“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”

“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.

You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.

“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”

“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”

“Oh, no, not really”, you say.

“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.

“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.

“Okay”, you say.

“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”

“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.

“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.

“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”

Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.

“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.

“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.

“You can’t be serious…”, you say.

Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.

“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”

Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.

“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”

You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.

“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”

Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”

You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.

“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”

You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.

“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”

He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.

-

You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.

Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.

“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”

Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.

“What do you want?” Jason demands.

“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”

“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”

“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”

-

The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.

Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.

“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”

You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.

“What?”

“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”

You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.

“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”

You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.

You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.

You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.

Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.

-

Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.

As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.

You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.

She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.

“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”

You take a deep breath, turning away from her.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.

“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.

You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?

You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.

You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.

-

During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.

In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”

-

All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.

Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.

You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.

“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.

“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”

Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.

Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.

“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.

-

The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.

He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”

“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”

You can feel heat flood your cheeks.

“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.

“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.

“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”

“Get over yourself!”

“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”

You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.

He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.

“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.

“I-I…I’m sorry I…”

“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”

-

You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.

“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.

“Is that true?”

“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”

Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.

“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”

Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.

“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”

Not really, no, but you can’t say that.

“Yes”, you reply instead.

“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”

-

You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.

There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Eddie”, you huff playfully.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.

“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.

“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”

Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.

His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.

“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”

“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.

Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.

“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”

You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.

“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”

“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”

“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.

-

On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.

“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.

“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.

“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”

There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.

“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”

“I’m here.”

You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”

You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.

“What? When?”

“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.

You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…

Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.

“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.

You can’t help but smile along with him.

“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.

You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.

You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.

-

After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.

“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”

Eddie nods.

“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.

“For what?”

“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”

“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”

“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”

“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”

That gets a grin out of Eddie.

“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.

“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.

Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.

If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.

Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.

[usedpidemo]

Thinking about you (Choi Yena)

——————

Thank you @capslocked for reading and input <3

——————

> How have you been doing? I miss u ㅠㅠ

> I hope you’re taking care of yourself and eating well ㅠㅠ

> I can’t wait for you to hear the comeback!

> Let’s meet each other soon

> I hope you’re thinking of me too

—————

She was absolutely right.

You missed her. The old her. Clear flashes of her energetic, glowing face persisted, but so did those unfathomable, lewd expressions.

You never looked at Yena the same way you did before. She was an entirely different person after the day you met.

Not a single night passes by without you restlessly thinking about the fanmeet. You got way more than your money’s worth, even if it punched a hole so deep in your pocket that only recently began to heal from. It was both the best and the worst night of your life. Almost six months have passed, yet it hasn’t sunk fully in your head that this bright, cutesy idol moonlights as an eager cockslut to her most dedicated supporters.  

That isn’t to say you’ve never stopped supporting her. To the dismay of your neighbors, her music plays over a hundred times a day inside your apartment, any of her social media posts is an automatic like, and you don’t open up YouTube without watching at least one video of her, be it a performance or her other content. It’s an obsession bordering on lunacy; it might actually be lunacy.

Your credit card may as well be linked with Yena, even though she’s nothing but an idol to you. In her eyes, you’re just a mere fan. Since that fateful day, you didn’t spend a single coin on any of her merch—not even when she had her first comeback—but you’ve always kept that Universe membership active. That notification from the app is your version of the morning newspaper. Your daily routine grinds to a complete halt whenever you hear that sound. Your brain hardwired itself to instinctively grab the phone, dash and flick through the screen, as if your life depended on it.

On the screen are four new photos. Usually she sends selfies with a common style: Acting cutesy and bright, pouting and puckering her trademark duck lips on camera. This time, it’s different. 

It’s only ever seen seldomly in live performances—think her red top at that one festival or a similarly matching green crop she previously wore—but she’s rocking a white crop top with jeans, perfect belly exposed, complemented by faux panties linked to her pants. Her plaid is dropped down her arms, shoulders fully exposed. It’s bold. It’s scandalous. To almost everyone else, it’s a dramatic shift from her bubbly concepts, but you, along with a lucky few, have already seen this before—far beyond explicit detail.

Immediately, your thoughts return back to last summer. Quick, vivid flashes of her in every lewd position imaginable play in your head. Whenever you see that face, you can’t help but be reminded of how you were atop her, how your cock was deep inside her mouth, and how she was carelessly used by five different men, including you. A cloud of guilt and trauma lingers over you, still incapable of grasping how this cute girl with a colorful image, enjoys being taken in such a pornographic manner. 

Still, the door to the past remains open, enough for a little light to seep in—or in this case, darkness. 

Another bell, another notification. She follows up her jaw dropping photos with three perfectly timed messages:

> I can’t wait to show you a different side of me ㅠㅠ

> Some of you already have ;)

> You mean a lot to me, jigumi

It’s almost like she’s reading your mind, actively dissecting your thought process, and using the right words to drag you back into that darkness. Most people would definitely embrace and relish in it, but not you. In your eyes, she’s still an idol with a family friendly image to uphold, and not everything is tainted, but when Yena herself comes out with these kinds of photos and outfits, you’re like a parent dumbfounded at their child for being rebellious. 

She’s an adult and she can do whatever she wants—you acknowledge this—but your heart feels heavy seeing her act this bold and confident.

A handful times you’ve considered dropping her. It’s not like she’s the only idol you like; you like her former members just as much, some of which are prospering in their new groups, but you’ve always had a special connection to Yena, one that was corrupted when you participated in that fanmeet. She’s still the same Yena, with the same charms that caught your attention, but it seems as if you’re looking at a clone or a variant. It doesn’t feel the same.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door, interrupting your deep contemplation. It’s probably one of your neighbors, as usual. Lxxk 2 You plays over the big television subwoofers, bass thumping, loud as if it were a concert, and it’s that time of the night when most working people should be sleeping. You should be preparing for bed too, but you’re considering other activities before you get some shut eye.

So you hop off from the couch and walk over to the flat’s entrance, powering the music down to ear-friendly levels. You open the door, and your face goes wide, completely in shock.

It takes everything in you not to shout like the building’s on fire. Celebrities shouldn’t be visiting middle class apartments randomly, nor should they be knocking on people’s doors, especially this late at night—unless an entire camera crew is behind them. Not a single camera person or hidden camera in sight.

This has to be some sort of elaborate stage prank, because the timing couldn’t be any more on point; then again, that’s what you thought when she began undressing in front of you.

Yena’s standing at your apartment entrance, grinning from ear to ear. In her tiniest, squeakiest tone, she whispers, “Hi.”

As if you were gonna say anything back, and even if you had something to say, the overwhelming emotions you’re feeling derail your train of thought.

She playfully leans her face close to yours, eyes scanning your idle, unintentionally humorous expressions. “Looks like someone’s happy to see me again.” 

An understatement. Despite the emotional conflict you were dealing with, no words and no width of a smile can express how excited you were to see her in the flesh—and right at your doorstep, no less. Unless—

“It’s—it’s y-you, right? Tell me this isn’t a joke.” Doubt makes itself evident in your anxious tone. You didn’t want to expect much, only for that hope to be ripped to shreds.

“Of course it’s me!” Yena puts her hands on her waist, jokingly pouting, as if she was offended. “Who else would be knocking on your door this late at night?”

Blinking rapidly while you stare, still in utter disbelief, a momentary pause before you reply, “My neighbors?”

“Really?” Expecting a predictable answer, only to be subverted, her eyes dilate. “I’m sorry. I can come back next week if you want—” 

“No!” The scream you let out echoes throughout the hallway, foregoing any form of built up subtlety. Joke or not, it’s far too soon for this fleeting moment to end. “I—I didn’t expect you to show up like this at all.”

“Nobody does.” Yena giggles, and it’s cute, warm, and everything that drew you to her in the first place. “Anyway, if you want me to stay, you can invite me inside your place and we can talk some more.”

She didn’t need to add a follow up smile. You were always going to welcome her regardless of whether or not she said anything.

—————

Call it hyperbole, but you’re really caught up in your own feelings. How wishy-washy you are— contemplating whether supporting Yena was the right thing to do, only to drop those questions the moment she appears at your doorstep, reminding you that nothing of value was lost.

From the dining area, Yena casually watches you teeter across your little kitchen, holding that smile from outside your flat. Ignore the hot kettle in your hand; you can’t last even a few seconds without looking in her direction, sometimes meeting her gaze. When your eyes do meet, there’s a spark, a connection taking form, but it’s make-belief inside your head. She has a finger gently placed on her rosy cheek. It gives you butterflies in your stomach. Then her grin broadens an inch wider, and your heart races. Every little thing she does makes you flutter, as if you’re having a crush on someone for the first time.

Yena has this large racing jacket layered on top of what appears to be a gray sleeveless dress shirt with matching color skirt, striking a balance between quirky and attractive. Even outside of her profession, she always dresses unconventionally—probably because it’s her style, and not only because she wants to stand out. Had she appeared in that fit from the photos she sent half an hour ago, you wouldn’t have been able to control yourself.

Despite the beautiful distraction occasionally getting in the way of your focus, somehow, you’re able to brew up some hot chocolate to serve to your guest. She already had dinner earlier—she told you right as you led her inside—and thank goodness for that; you didn’t want her to use your bathroom for all the wrong reasons, make her second guess the decision to randomly visit a fan out of the blue, especially right before a comeback. Worst case scenario would be a reported hospitalization and the postponing of many different schedules, all because of you.

Can you imagine the fallout? 

It’s probably best not to think about it too much, especially after she drank through the whole mug like it was a bowl of ramen. There’s small residue, tiny little specks on her lips, and she has this gleeful, childlike look in her eyes. 

God, you’re so cute, you think to yourself.

“It’s really good,” she says, turning her gaze to you, shifting to a more businesslike stance in a snap, smiling and nodding. “Thank you.”

No words can describe how mushy your heart feels. Being complimented by your favorite idol—your favorite person—has to be one of the highest forms of validation possible. You’re set for life. If she tells you to quit your job to sell drinks instead, you’d drop the resignation letter in a heartbeat.

“Would you like another?” you ask. The joy is too much to contain, cutting loose in the form of a toothy grin. 

“This is enough, but thanks,” she replies, and you’re brought back down to earth again. Still, this memory will last as long as you live. 

Deep in thought, her eyes roll down to the empty mug. Her index finger runs loops around the cup’s edge. Even when she’s doing seemingly mundane things to pass the time, you’re left in awe of how gorgeous she looks. You already saw her before, under different circumstances, and she was everything you hoped for—far better than what any camera captured. Here, with less makeup and with a more casual fit, she was as close to perfection as she can possibly be.

You look at her for what appears to be hours, soaking in the sight of a homely Yena you’ve previously only imagined in dreams. The way you stare at her, scan even the tiniest of motions, and examine every little part of her leans on disturbing at points, yet she doesn’t say a word, nor does she care to glance in your direction. She appears lost in thought, mindlessly using the cup as a tool to exercise her brain. You’re anxious to say a word, let alone ask a question—and you’ve got plenty.

“I bet you’re wondering,” she says suddenly, tone hushed, eyes focused on the mug’s base, index finger still running laps on the edge. Pausing, she repeats herself, reforming her train of thought. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.”

“Yeah.”

There’s one of your questions, delivered in a way you’re unable to. At least she knew that one, but she may as well have known everything inside your head over the last several months.

“I like to remember the people in my fanmeets.” She lifts her finger off the cup, cleans the stains off the fingerprints by rubbing it against the wooden surface of the table. “And I checked who I haven’t spoken to in a while, and guess what? We haven’t interacted since then. At all.”

Your eyebrows lift, concerned more than surprised. “You’ve been visiting your fans?”

Her eyes slide up, meeting yours in a magnetic gaze. She flashes you a grin, no different from any of her other smiles, but you’re immediately smitten. “I do.”

There’s a pause, a moment where you stare into each other like you’re both in love. You’re smiling too. 

“I mean—I don’t go out of my way to visit them.” Yena breaks the tension, averting eye contact. The right sleeve of her jacket slides down, exposing a lot of shoulder and skin. It’s dangerous, how nonchalant at how sexy she is. “Everyone sends me a message, and they usually run over to my place to do the thing, then they leave.”

“Damn,” you comment, taken aback by her sudden reveal. “You let everyone run through you so easily?”

“I don’t hate it. I enjoy it.” Yena fires a mild scowl at you, seemingly insulted by the manner in how you said it. “You were there, you know.”

You lean back into your chair, rattled by her sudden stern demeanor. “Yeah, but—”

“Idol life is exhausting. I’m sure you know that, right?” interjects Yena, half pouting and half grimacing, her brows lowered. “I need an outlet from all the stress, and what better way than to get some from my fans? They get to feel good, and I feel good too. It’s a win-win.”

“It has to hurt at some point,” you reply, even more worried. The thought of Yena being used on a daily basis many times agonizes you, yet you never really mused the idea when you were using her mouth. 

“I’m used to it, don’t worry.” She relaxes her composure, gradually returning to her softer side. “You weren’t this worried when you were shoving that long dick of yours down my throat.”

Consider your argument invalid. You look down at the table, guilty as charged.

“Something up? I remember how hesitant and nervous you were, but you still used me like everyone else.” She holds your hand, drawn into a knuckle, inching her face a bit closer to yours. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”

You sigh. “I don’t know if I should say it to you directly.”

“You can tell me everything.” Yena says it with endearing conviction, as if she were your therapist. Here’s the thing, though: you have no experience with one. 

You pause, then you sigh. Again. There’s a line between her invitation and your doubt tugging at you from opposite ends. Months of pent-up turmoil and internal conflict, ready to unload all at once. You have to remind yourself that she's an idol, not your personal counselor, and it may prove to be overwhelming even for her. There’s her hand, tenderly resting on yours, lulling you into a sense of security, but here comes your mind, acting in ‘self-defense’, feeding you negative thoughts like the three meals you eat every day.

For a third time, you sigh.

Fuck it. You’ve got nothing to lose, anyway.

“God—where do I begin—” you huff, tilting your eyes in the opposite direction, dodging Yena’s perceptive gaze. A brief silence follows. You’re hesitant, undecided on whether to tell all or keep it to yourself, but your toes are already deep in the water—might as well dive in. “I—I thought you were special.”

Yena angles her face, quizzical. “What do you mean?”

“I really liked you from the beginning, when you were still on Produce,” you reply, eyes now facing the direction of the living room. There are a handful of framed photos, mostly Yena photocards from previous releases. “I don’t know how I can properly explain it, but—” you pause. Swallow that lump in your throat. “You were different from every idol I’ve followed before.”

She frowns. The hold on your hand becomes a tad bit tighter.

“Gosh, this is gonna sound so cheesy—” you quietly mutter, chuckling at what you’re about to say. Yena fails to suppress her own giggle, her hand trembling. “But—I thought you were just the best, you know? So funny, so cute, and so talented in every way. You were the perfect girl. Still are.”

Her cheeks blush a bright flowery pink. “That’s really sweet of you to say. Is this a romantic confession?”

“God damn it, Yena—” you quietly groan, rolling your eyes back to your skull. Way to ruin a serious moment with humor. “Kind of! If you want to look at it that way—”

“Not the first time someone outwardly asked me to be their girlfriend. Sorry to tell you this, but I’m kind of busy with myself to have relationships.”

“I mean—no! I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, obviously—” 

“I wonder what she’s gonna say about this one—” 

To your dismay, Yena smirks.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, ugh—” you grumble, annoyed. On the other hand, she’s laughing heartily, enjoying every single moment of the exchange. “Can I just cut to the point?”

She cackles a bit longer before gradually calming down. “Okay, okay. Continue.”

“Okay, where was I? Perfect girl. Right. Point is, I wanted to follow your career and watch you succeed. So when I heard you were coming out with a fun and colorful concept, I was so excited. I knew it was the perfect match for your personality. God, you had no idea how overjoyed I was when I found out I was gonna finally meet you face to face. All that album spending was finally worth it. Then the day arrived, I thought it was gonna be simple and fun. God.”

“Then what happened?” she asks, casually, seemingly oblivious to the sudden widening of your eyes. There’s trauma written on both of them.

“Then you started stripping.”

The little smile on her lips curls, turning serious. “And then?”

You couldn’t really answer, not because you didn’t know—you do—but because you don’t want to elaborate. Even thinking about it now, with whatever confidence you’ve mustered up until this point, this is as far as your resolve can go.

Sighing, you say, “You became tainted to me.”

Yena nods. Ridiculous as it sounds, she immediately understands. “Oh.”

You feel something loosen; it’s her hand on yours, pulling away. A tense silence follows, while you both ruminate over everything that you’ve said. It’s heavy—perhaps a bit too much to take in all at once, like you predicted.

“I still don’t regret it,” she says, pouting. Call it cold, insensitive, or callous, she shows no sign of remorse. “But I understand where you’re coming from. Look at this young idol, she’s cute and sweet, but then she lets herself get used by everyone for fun. I guess you wanted me all to yourself? I don’t blame you. Everyone wants me for themselves, too.”

For a moment, she was close to figuring it out. For a moment.

“It’s not even that,” you reply, unamused at the somewhat narcissistic answer. “I mean—you’re not wrong—”

“There you go!” Yena interrupts, internally celebrating and patting herself on the back. “You’ve said it yourself that you wanted me too. Well, here I am—”

“It’s not that simple!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration. Forget that she was an idol, forget that she was a guest—you’re yelling at her the same way you argue with your landlord about rent. “Can you listen to me for just one moment?”

She looks at you, eyes wide and mouth agape. Frozen, stunned, speechless.

For a moment, you hesitate, regret almost immediately striking you in the gut. You don’t blame her if she decides to walk out on you. Wasting time arguing with a fan should be the least of her priorities. She’s a soloist who can go about with her career in any way she wants. You have just as little power over her as anyone else—none.

“God, forget about it,” you say. If there was any moment not to be human, not to be you, it would be now. “I mean—I really do want you, but I just—”

“No, no. Go on. I’m listening.” Yena’s tone and expressions are dead serious—a far cry from the usual jumpy side she normally shows. Her hand snakes back to grab yours. At first, you draw it an inch back, until you change your mind and reach it out for hers again. An olive branch of sorts.

“I don’t know where to begin, Yena. You’re so cute,” you say, staring into her starry eyes, twinkling under the dining room light. “I didn’t expect you to be such a—um, you know—”

“A cock slut?” She says it so casually, it’s off-putting to the ear. It still feels weird to hear those two words come out from those seemingly sweet lips, even though you’ve heard them before.

“Yeah. A cock slut.” The words escape your mouth like puke.  You can feel your conscience gradually die calling her one, worse than any profanity you’ve ever spoken. “Can you not—”

“Of course, of course.” Yena nods. “Sorry.”

“Anyway—” You pat her hand tenderly, rolling your eyes while you condense your thoughts into something coherent. “Look, I just—I really can’t tell if you’re still Yena after what happened. I know this is so stupid, but I always liked your cute image, and now it’s ruined.”

She caresses your hand back, showing a little reassuring smile. “Aw. I’ve heard that before, and I understand where you’re coming from, but as an artist, I want to make the music I want, and I want to be more than one-dimensional. I want to show sides I never could when I was in a group. I want to be great at everything, so you can be proud of supporting a multi-talented idol.” 

“I’m already proud of you,” you whisper. “You’re already perfect in my eyes.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you for supporting me all these years.”

Next thing you know, your hands are no longer on each other—they’re caressing rosy cheeks, feeling the warmth and affection of the other’s skin. You’re staring. With much of the angst you’ve repressed is finally poured out, there’s nothing left except a growing desire of want and lust.

“So, you don’t want to support me anymore?” she asks. Seeing the disheartening look on her features breaks your heart. It’s like saying farewell to a best friend going away, never to be seen again. “I understand, but I am always grateful—”

“No. I still want to cheer you on. I just—this is just a little too fast for me, seeing you mature gracefully.” 

Her smile grows a bit wider. After the dark clouds, the sun shines brighter. It’s not over. “I’m still young, so I’m not maturing that fast. At the end of the day, I’ll always be your duck—and your smiley hero.”

—————

It happened way too fast. Love makes no sense. 

How quick those tense moments fly by, only to be replaced by bliss so shortly after.

She kissed you, pulled you close by the fabric of your shirt. Feelings of a long distance relationship that may have blossomed in another life spring forth. It’s reconciliation. It's a reconnection. 

It’s like the last half-hour of superficial melodrama never even happened.

Then again, you should have known exactly why she was here to begin with.

Before you know it, you’re making out with each other passionately as you head into the bedroom together. Her jacket’s long gone, forgotten somewhere in your living room. Based on how muted the music has become, you may have a hunch as to where it ended up. There’s little resistance from your end; you submit to her quicker than when you shared her with others.

Some things are best experienced alone, and making love with Yena is one of them.

Your lips trace down to her chin, to her soft, sensitive neck. She whines. It’s a sweet sound that tickles your ears. Raising her head up for greater access, you leave marks deep into her flesh, assert full ownership of her body, even just for one night. You hold her by her shoulders, hugging her like your favorite pillow, kissing her delicious, mushy skin, leaving red blemishes on her cute figure, glowing brighter than the sun.

“Mmm, this feels so good,” she whines, humming. She grabs a fistful of your hair while weaving her other hand between your chest lightly pressing on hers. The little separation breaks your attention. When you regain some semblance of restraint, you note the last of the buttons on her dress shirt come off, a black bra revealed behind it. With an inviting smirk, she looks at you with glazed eyes, indicating what she wants without the need for words. 

There’s a tinge of anger, some leftover frustration, in those hands of yours. You shove her down, send her crashing to the bed. It only serves to arouse Yena even further. Your pupils are dilating, driven crazy by the lewd scene playing out in real time. It’s a possessed, hungry stare, ignoring all those endless hours of existential contemplation within mere seconds. 

How quick you are to throw away your qualms on a whim.

She looks up at you with an intense, deep glare. Instantly getting up from the fall, her fingers dig deep into your pants.

She isn’t the only thing quick to rise tonight. 

Your pants are the next to fall, shortly followed by your underwear. Only now do you realize the disparity between you and Yena—how you’ve been talking to her in your pajamas while she’s dressed up like a star. Given the circumstances, you’re not at fault, but still—shameful. The only thing saving you from embarrassment is your lack of self-awareness, and that your erect cock demands complete attention. Soon, those carefully curated nails dig into your skin, making you wince. A brief retaliation. It’s not like you can do anything back, even if she gracefully relinquished control to you. 

Nothing worth getting flustered for, you’ll both be down to your barest shortly.

“Can I?” asks Yena, in her cutest tone, hot air against your tip making you shiver. It’s almost fucked how she pleads to you while readying herself to do the one of the filthiest things imaginable. Tip barely grazing her strawberry lips, her nails itching to grab you by the length, it would be criminal at this point to say no.

You barely notice you’ve given your approval. Almost immediately she takes your tip into her mouth with a delicate hum, so hungry to taste you, so eager to claim you. It takes every bit of your strength not to crumble right then and there, not to succumb to your weakness, clutching at her raven colored locks for support. Both her hands grab you by your girth, stroking your shaft as she plunges it deeper into her maw, devouring you.

Every breath you take is tense, like it’s the last one before you inevitably drown. Based on how consumed you are by pleasure, you’re practically halfway there. Mouth agape, eyes completely shut, hands gripping and losing hold of Yena repeatedly while she vigorously sucks your cock, purring with delight as she engulfs you with her wetness and spit.

“Ummmppfff.” Yena releases your dick from her mouth with a sloppy pop, your shaft now coated in a fresh sheen of saliva and precum. The relief is only temporary as she leashes your cock with her hand, pumping you at a steady but excruciating tempo. 

When you manage to reopen your eyes, the first thing you see is the pornographic expression in her eyes meeting you halfway as her tongue laps up your tip, followed by your underside, then down to your balls, swallowing some of it in her mouth. Kissing around your balls, she refocuses her attention back to your cock as it leaks some more.

“Oh my God—” you groan, still holding onto her locks, before the rest of your unspoken words deteriorate into nothing more than pleasurable, erotic sounds. In some twisted form of appreciation, she pecks up your balls as your tip stains her tiny nose, before putting your girth back into her mouth again.

The short bursts of moans you make spiral into a strain of prolonged, breathy groans. Add the occasional drop of her name and a curse, and it’s the perfect string of praises to give to her. Yena’s tempo goes haywire, losing herself in ecstasy of your cock deeply buried in the back of her throat without any gag reflex. She’s all blushed up, makeup and sweat and precum glazed on a perfect canvas—an expression of wanton desire. Before it dawns on you, she surrenders herself to your most basic of urges, allowing you to fuck her face without consideration for thought or comfort. 

The hair tie keeping her locks together loosens. Another chain unshackled. You don’t really need your eyes open to know how much Yena loves your cock—how she tightly keeps your shaft sealed between her lips with each thrust, how she sings the sweetest song, and how much spit she lathers all over your shaft. All of these sensations combine for a shiver that’s the closest experience to heaven, almost as if she’s ripping your soul out of you.

Yena rushes the pace even further, grabs your ass from underneath you. She doesn’t care that she chokes and coughs from desperation to fill her mouth. She knows something you don’t. The signs are starting to show: the rapidly expanding tension in your loins and the quivering in your legs—an inevitable climax is about to happen, and you’re trying in vain to keep yourself in this position even a second longer than you deserve.

“Fuck, Yena, I’m gonna—”

Determined, she pushes you against her, makes sure your cock is tickling the deepest part of her throat. It’s enough of a rush that spikes an incomprehensible high before you’re sent spiraling back down to earth almost as quickly. Just like that, you’re gone. Your body shuddering, Yena takes you all in like an open faucet, thirstily swallowing every thick, warm shot of cum down her dry throat. 

She releases your withering cock from her airtight lips with a familiar sounding pop, breaking the thin connection between her mouth and your tip made of saliva and seed.  Playfully, she swallows her throat in a show of glee, grinning from ear-to-ear. That’s the first thing you see when you regain your senses.

Your legs are barely holding out, only supported by whatever willpower left in you remains, and your hand pressed into her long, loose dark locks. While you’re gathering yourself, she grips onto your thighs, licks the tip with her filthy, cum-stained tongue, then around the rest of your shaft to render it ‘clean.’ 

You consider that a night well spent, and more than enough, but for Yena, one isn’t enough. To her, it was merely an appetizer.

“You done?” she asks, innocently, but to your ears, it’s almost teasing, mocking—at your poor stamina.

“Not yet,” you say, still gasping in between. 

“That’s what I wanna hear.”

Yena pulls you overhead, sends you down to the bed on all fours, hovering atop her lithe figure. It’s an arousing sight enough to make you hard, but sore—and you’re slowly coming around the fact that you sorely needed her. So you lean down and kiss her, show her intimacy you’ve previously only done in private, behind these same closed doors by yourself, when it was only you and a photograph of her.

Kiss her again. The way it plays out seems ripped directly from your dreams, but something seems a bit off—she still has the rest of her clothes on. 

So you quickly dispose of them, to the floor where they belong—bra first, followed by her panties. In between, you shower her with delicate kisses down her body, from her chin and neck, to her chest as you peel the lingerie off her, down to her toned tummy. You reach between her groin, make instant work of her underwear, and note her already sopping, wet cunt.

That too, you give a kiss of appreciation. 

Right as you’re about to leave, Yena’s thighs begin to clench between your face, denying you an opportunity to leave without a taste of her as well. It’s a brutal sweeping force pulling you in, and you can do nothing but concede, allowing yourself to get swept away in her over wetness. Her body writhes, squirms as you indulge in her, lapping your tongue around her tasty flesh and her sensitive clit.

“Mm—oh t-that’s so—f-fuck—” she whines, tensing up and body clenching tighter as you devour her with greater hunger than what she did to your cock. 

It only serves to spur you on, unlocks a deeper level of thirst and instinct you thought you never had. With a frenzied pace, your tongue sticks to her mouthwatering clit like a magnet, with her mmms and aaahs in the background urging you to take it all. Any spilled drop of her would be a waste, and you're determined to make sure none of it goes anywhere except your mouth.

Her body quickens and accelerates to its natural bliss, faster than you expected, and you can feel every nerve, every fiber burn and tense beyond the point of repair, yet she can’t—and won't—stop moaning, unable to keep herself shouting with ecstasy, crying out your name like you’re her savior. Hands gripped on the sheet, she eagerly anticipates the moment you’ll deliver her to her nirvana, her paradise, and you’re working your hardest to bring her there.

Digging your fingers between your thighs, you slip a digit around her delicate folds, and it drives her mad. She lets out her loudest yelp, a scream worth a neighbor’s concern, but you’re beyond past caring for subtlety. Let them knock, let them burst through the door. They’ll have to drag you away for you to stop.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, I—”

It’s on a rather weak flick that sends her careening over the edge. Your face becomes a vessel for a torrent of ambrosia, of gooey juices to gush over. She twitches and groans, enveloped in a shockwave of her own high. Releasing your fingers from inside her, you barely hold her upright, keep her legs suspended in limbo while you’re still an outlet of pleasure she uses to fill up. 

Winding down, the grip on her thighs loosens. For the first time in minutes, you can finally breathe. When you emerge from her delicious clit, you’re a beautiful mess, a canvas made of ecstasy and slick—an image she always draws for every fan she meets, and perfectly recreates.

And it still isn’t enough to satiate her.

“I need that dick inside me,” says Yena, delivered low and seductive. She extends her arm out, points out your already hard cock. This was her plan all along—to buy time while you ready yourself for the second time. “I can’t go without at least one nice warm load in this wet pussy.”

You sigh—not out of frustration, but exhaustion. 

She smirks and silently giggles. “I didn’t see you grumble like that at the fanmeet. Now that we’re all alone, you have me all to yourself. Come on. Use me. Fuck me.”

It’s not just in the way she says such profane, salacious words to lure you, it’s in the elaborate order she says them—like she’s practiced it meticulously a thousand times, and knowing everything now, it makes complete sense.

Yet with the way your body moves, how you almost immediately respond to her call, it works to near perfection. 

Hand on your cock, you hover atop her, line your shaft against her sopping cunt, force a gentle whine in response. Testing the waters, you whisper against her lips, “How do you want it?”

“Any way you want,” she mumbles back, smiling sweetly, but the intent behind the expression is anything but. Her hand traces the outline of your free arm, up to your cheek, caressing your face tenderly—a display of gentleness in the middle of high tension. “From here, from behind, on all fours—maybe even my mouth again. All up to you.”

So many options to choose from, you wish you had the strength and the endurance to do them all—maybe in that order as well. It’s an inconsequential question and challenge, but the decision making is more than existential. You don’t know when you’ll get to have an opportunity like this again.

Her lidded eyes stare into yours, anticipating your next move. Leaning into her ear, you moan into her as you penetrate her pussy with your shaft, her cry melding with yours into a harmonious sound. Your hands intertwine with hers, lifting them over her shoulders as you slip your cock into her tight, suffocating cunt. Missionary might be the least inviting of all the possible positions, but you wanted to see her crack, to see her fall apart, to see her break.

Unsurprisingly, she does. Between one deep nail into her after another, you watch Yena crumble into a lewd, pornographic heap of skin. Her eyes go shut and her lips curl, melt wide open, moaning and cursing like they’re the only words she ever knows. The same expressions that haunted you are back, but with the way you’re smiling, now you’re master over them—it doesn’t torment you anymore. 

Call yourself hypocritical, but you’re enjoying every moment of this, every moment of your cock buried inside of her cunt—for yours alone. Combine your collective moans with the sound of your thighs sloppily slapping against each other, you’re making beautiful music. 

“Fuck, Yena. Fuck, Yena.” Your thoughts loop between those two words, with nothing else to fill in the gaps, and it eventually materializes on your lips. There’s her breasts, bouncing vibrantly with each ripple of her body, so that might be the distraction. You grip them with a hand and it doesn’t change anything. At best, it only changes her pitch. You’re fucking her, that’s for sure. 

Many nights you’ve secretly wished and pined for this moment—and at times, you’ve slept with wet fingers pretending it would come. Now it’s here, at its apex, and you don’t want to let the time slip away—at least not yet.

Your body doesn’t follow, doesn’t recognize you’re one whole entity. It’s rebellious. It thrusts, it picks up speed, it only knows to go either 0 or 100. There’s no in-between. Yena’s perfect figure recognizes how unruly you are. Her pussy flexes against your cock harshly. It may as well be a death grip. It’s almost taunting to see how difficult she makes it for you to slip out, so determined to make you cum in as little time as possible. 

She has places to be, but you’ll make sure she doesn’t walk out of here unless it’s limping.

Even that proves to be counterproductive. The way you rail her, exert every last bit of effort into ensuring your dick is deeply buried inside her as humanly possible proves to be too much for your own body. Your pelvic joints flare up, ache and sore, pleading for you to be gentle, but anything less would be a disappointment to Yena. That’s how she wants it, and you’re more than willing to sacrifice yourself to give her everything.

You’ve drowned out her loud screams at this point. Even the idea of a few more minutes seems out of reach. Yena helplessly quivers beneath you, screaming in both agony and joy as you wildly fuck her, completely submissive to your most radical of whims. Rational thinking is practically non-existent, only dependent on the most basic and primal of your instincts to end her—and yourself.

Mouth agape, exposed neck with red sores all over from marks you’ve unknowingly made, she cries out, aware of your plight, “I can feel you’re so close to cumming—Give it to me—I can tell how badly you want to cum—just give in and fill me up!”

You can’t even look at Yena, losing the last of your restraint rapidly by the second. The sight of your cock spearing her beneath doesn’t help either. It’s basically over. With a deep thrust and sigh, you give in and do as she says: fill her up. 

The groan you make is inhuman, borderline animalistic. Without thought, you let yourself go, fire thick shots of cum, one after another inside her soaked pussy. The painful but thrilling feeling lingers on for what may as well be hours. You can’t stop throbbing inside her, pulsating inside her greedy cunt, waiting for your cock to finally stop shooting a presumably infinite amount of seed to fill her with.

Using the last of your strength, you move yourself to the side with enough space that when you eventually crash, your outstretched arm gently settles atop her bare chest. Gone are the loud, deafening moans and unrecognizable bed creaks, replaced by deep, gentle breaths.

—————

Thank goodness it’s the weekend, otherwise you’d be worrying about the work day to come while you lie restless in bed. Actually, you do have something concerning—the heap of reports your boss gave you earlier that day. You’ll get it started after you’ve gotten enough rest, which will take you into the afternoon.

It’s not the monotony and the tedium of work driving you crazy tonight. It’s Yena. You both should have been completely tired by now, bodies completely drained of all their strength. Instead, you’re trying your hardest not to give in to her advances while she playfully demands another round with you. 

Toss and turn as many times as you want, pretend to act like you’re sound asleep as much as you want, she doesn’t buy into the act. She’s considerate enough to be gentle, but mischievous, kissing every part of you, clambering over your shoulders, looking at you with an unassailable bliss, all while you’re evidently miserable. You were done.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” she asks, so sweetly but quite taunting. Her arm wraps around your waist, teasingly going for your groin, completely numb at this point.

“I don’t.” A feeble lie. Even the slightest notion can start another wildfire, so you desperately avoid entertaining her, yet she proves to be more persistent than you bargained for.

“Come on, then. I suppose you don’t have a little more for me, right?” Yena flips you face up that you’re staring into each other’s eyes. She’s still hungry, still greedy, a fire still brightly lit within them. 

Sighing, you lightly lift your head, pulling her face close for a chaste kiss. Then she steals whatever control you have. It spirals out into a full-blown make out session.

Next thing you know, she’s riding you, moans overpowering the aching and groaning you loins feel, demanding every last drop out of you, yet you can do nothing but watch helplessly as you succumb to her wanton desires. 

Then you flip her around and pound her against the backdrop of a mirror, making your argument completely pointless.

Plenty of time has already gone to waste, and you will spend some more, but you don’t regret a single second of it.

—————

“Thank you for a wonderful time,” says Yena, cheekily smiling as she crosses beyond your entrance door. Fully dressed and mostly clean, she sounds like a guest for a simple dinner—as if you didn’t rail her five times throughout the night. 

“Yeah, thank you as well,” you say, holding your throat between words, unsure whether you’re feeling guilty or awkward—perhaps both, but it’s a terrible disguise for the high you’re actually feeling. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Gosh, you should just drop the act. I know you actually enjoyed it.” 

Caught red-handed, you lift your hands, shrugging your shoulders playfully. You’re lightly smirking, barely suppressing a chuckle. She’s right. “Yeah. Sure did.” 

“Comeback’s on Monday. Maybe I wear this outfit during the showcase,” she remarks—the first time she’s said something about her occupation throughout her stay with you. Winking, she adds, “I hope you enjoy the new music. I’ll show a different side of me.”

“Heh. I have already seen it.” 

“And I have already seen yours. To be quite honest, I quite like it.” Yena shoots continued winks at you, her favorite weapon of choice. “I’d like to see more of it, in fact.”

Tilting your chin up, amusement clearly written on your features, you fold your arms. “I know you’re busy and all, but I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again.”

“I don’t really have a lot going on. Just some appearances, but no serious music show promotions, so you’ll see me sooner than you think, who knows?” Yena waves you goodbye while you slowly but quietly pull the door on her, her cheery smile persistent even with the sight of your evident sadness. “Please rest, okay? Oh, and check your table later. See you.”

Instead of taking her words to heart, the dinner table is the first place you head to, not your bed. On the edge lies a polaroid of you two like a couple, her arms wrapped around you in a bear hug. Behind is a 10 digit number with a note written beneath in tiny letters, but with the three most encouraging words your eyes will have the joy of reading.

> Call me anytime. <3

—————

(A/N: I figured it was high time to write a Yena fic again. 34-35 days is like the longest gap between fics on a non-hiatus period. I thought it was kind of interesting to explore what happens to an OC after one of those fanmeets like that of Make me smile, make me scared. Thank you for reading!)

[tiredlilguy]

The Flags HC's

(that nobody asked for... but i love them and I have no where to put these) note: these are just general hc's :P if you want me to make other ones lmk!

Pianoman: - his ass cannot play piano, when people asks if he can because of his name, he changes the subject because he feels embarrassed - is the oldest sibling in his family - since he's a perfectionist, he's also kind of his own worst critic (can be in a really shitty mood if he's alone with his thoughts for too long) - his hair is a result of vitiligo - is an anxious person, but somehow his anxiety goes away when he's with The Flags - whenever he handles something physically using his hands, he's very cautious and tends to treat whatever is in his hands gingerly (like if he's given a gift, he will gently hold it in his hands instead of just taking it like normal) - has naturally shaky hands (i want to give him a big hug and kiss :( ) - going along with his hands, they're very thin, so his gloves are thick enough to where you don't really know what they look like underneath - has a really shitty sense of humor and will laugh at that one meme video with the bread falling on it's side - has defined canines and it shows if he opens his mouth or smiles

Lippman: - gets to know all of the celebrity drama before it gets out in the media: sometimes he uses it for blackmail or just tells the others and they all become a little gossip group (it's mostly just him, iceman, and chuuya though...) - he can make really good tea, like knows every little detail that comes with making tea: not leaving out a single step so you can get the best flavor out of the tea - polyglot, he once had to learn english for a role that he had and then proceeded to teach himself any language he thought was cool (sometimes mumbles in a different language under his breathe to mess with chuuya) - flirts with Pianoman a lot, says it's for fun, but he might have a little crush - wears that really dramatic silk robe with feathers and drags on the floor, it's either white or baby blue - paints his nails and will paints Chuuya's nails sometimes to practice, Chuuya says he's only doing it because he's his superior, but secretly enjoys it - unintentionally fixes The Flags outfits or hair, mostly Chuuya: like he'll adjust Iceman's collar if it's standing up, or he'll comb Chuuya's hair back into a nicer ponytail if it gets messy throughout the day

Iceman: - has a niece, and is the BEST uncle to her, likes to spoil her and will literally do anything for her (i read this from a fic and i can't stop thinking about it) - loves hearing gossip despite not talking that much - insomniac, spends most of his nights listening to his records with whiskey unless he has a job to do - plays his records really loud, but his listening room is sound proof so he can hear every little detail in the music - likes records, but he actually prefers live bands instead, thinks records are classy - gifts Chuuya records if he notices that Chuuya is singing a song to himself, usually tries to find the song and gets Chuuya that record of the album - is slowly becoming deaf, the only person that knows is Pianoman and Lippman, and he's slowly teaching The Flags sign language when they're on missions with him (he'll say it's because he wants to be quiet) (he won't admit it, but he will miss not being able to hear the others banter in the background anymore) - doesn't actually care about his ego/reputation at all, he's pretty confident in his assassinations, but if he fails a job, he'll just sigh and smoke a cigarette and move on - does not style his hair, he wakes up in the morning and moves it around a little bit and that's his hair for the day - he can't see out of his right eye that has the scar, but when he feels invoked with an emotion, he'll open that eye - notices small details... like extremely small details: one's that you won't even be thinking about; probably remembers what people like when they mention they like it once, knows when someone gets a haircut or they change colognes

Doc: - silly guy (canon) - he judges people's fashion taste despite not wearing any sort of outfit himself: likes to give pointers to Lippman about how to style his shirt or will judge Chuuya's strange outfits; will put on a good outfit if he's feeling like it - is very good at video games, but he doesn't really play them in his free time, but once Chuuya offered to play a video game with him and Doc beat his ass (Chuuya is still salty over an old Mario Cart match) - avoids walking long distance otherwise he'll start to feel tired, Albatross offers to take Doc everywhere - really good at darts... like his accuracy is scarily amazing, but guess you can't expect less from a doctor with his credentials - his way of showing affection is by being... very uncomfortably close to someone and then waiting to see if they're going to react, if they acknowledge his presence he smiles and then just walks away - very fidgety when he's doing something that isn't his job, will often fidget with something in his hand like a paper clip or rubber band, but suddenly that all goes away when it involves work - youngest sibling in his family... idk he gives me that energy

Albatross: - uses text emojis like ":D" and ":O" and so on; it does not matter who he is texting and he can and will accidentally text that to Mori on the phone (then proceeds to get lectured heavily by Pianoman) - answers his phone/messages immediately the moment that he gets them - can and will talk his ass off for hours on end, sometimes he does it to annoying Chuuya, but sometimes Chuuya actually wants to listen to it all - metalhead, this is canon actually i'm asagiri - gives the best hugs, like he gives big bear hugs; greets all of the Flags with hugs despite they're reactions - human heater, is always warm and it doesn't matter what season it is... he's just strangely warm all of the time (sometimes Doc sits next to him during the winter or if he's cold because he gets cold easily, and is a lot thinner than the rest of them) - openly bi, like he talks about it all of the time if he finds a man attractive

" I mean I know this man is our next target, but his ass looks nice in this file photo- " " Albatross." " Sorry.

-has freckles on his cheeks - has heterochromia, his eyes are blue and red

Chuuya: - has freckles... like everywhere, used to cover them up with makeup when he was younger and around The Flags, but then forgot one time and then Lippman said that it fit him and he stopped covering them up - can pick up any instrument he finds and owns a couple of guitars - huge audiophile and will judge every pair of headphones or recorde/cd/speakers that he's given; the record player in his house is very extra and over 2000 dollars - sings to himself when he's doing chores, or if he's playing music in the background, he will dance and sing while sweeping the floor - despite being musical, his dancing tends to be very clumsy (was once caught by Albatross and he made fun of him for a whole week) - can speak French and will cuss in French without thinking when he gets annoyed - knows all of the Mafia gossip, but no one knows he's a gossip-y kind of person... he knows everything about everyone, often finds himself hearing two different sides of one story - shopaholic (he cannot close his closet door anymore because the door is broken because it's so crowded in there)

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲

paring: florence pugh x gn!reader

tag(s): fluff, flo being a simp over r, my woman here has no game

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited, not proofread, language

word count: 0.8k

note: I was actually writing a request but I soft of diverted from the main plot and came up with this little fic. It's not that good but I feel like it's cute, so here you go. A short fic so you guys don't forget about me (I'm so dramatic). I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you enjoy! <3

note 2: Would anyone be interesting in a masterlist??

requests are open! + check my rules here <3

Florence had one rule when working that she always made sure to follow: never ever date a coworker. 

No matter how pretty they were, how smart they were or how interesting they seemed to be, she never ever dared to break her most sacred rule. Starting a relationship with a coworker was problematic. It would always get messy and there would be tension around the set, and things would get weird and complicated. And she couldn’t risk having to work in that kind of atmosphere. Not when she would commit one hundred percent to every single one of her projects, not when she had to give the very best of her, not when she had to be flawless. But all of that came crashing down once she met you. 

There was something about you that caught Florence’s eyes the second she laid her eyes on your frame. She didn’t know if it was your pretty face, or the way your eyes would light up when talking about the movie you two were working on, or the sound of your laugh. But there was something so familiar yet unknown about you, and she needed more of that comforting feeling. 

At first she tried to convince herself that all she wanted was to be friends with you, because she wasn’t about to break her golden rule. But the more alone time she would spend with you, the harder it was to keep telling herself that same lie. She just couldn't’ stay friends with you, she didn’t want to. The more she got to know you the harder they were to keep those feelings at bay. The harder it became for her to not blush when you complimented her looks for the movie, or that warm feeling she would get in her stomach everytime your hand would brush hers, or that peacefulness she would feel by just hearing your laugh. 

But the problem was that she didn’t know who you felt. You were touchy with her, but you were touchy with everyone. You laughed at her jokes, but you would find even the dumbest dad joke hilarious. So she had to take matters into her own hands. She had to grow some ovaries and just ask you out. Even if that meant she was going to break her golden rule, even if she wasn’t sure you would feel the same. Besides, shooting was almost over, so if things didn’t work out her way she just had to wait one more week and she would never see your stupid pretty face again. Although that wasn’t at all what she actually wanted. 

She decided to wait for the lunch break. The only break that would have since you were the First Assistant Director, an extremely tiring job if someone would ask her. But she knew that it was what you loved doing. Not an assistant but it would eventually lead to being a director and that was all you aspired to be in life. 

Lucky for her anytime the bell announcing the lunch break would ring. Florence counted from one to three in her head and then the loud piercing sound filled her ears. She quickly made her way to where you were standing. 

“Hey there!” she internally cursed herself once she heard the high pitched in her words.

“Flo, hey. Is everything okay? Do you need something?” she smiled at your words, always being the caretaker on set. Well, after all that was you job. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. I just need to ask you something. But it’s more of a personal question, not work related. But it’s not personal for you, I mean, it is since you are involved. But it’s more of a personal question for me because I’m the one asking you. Does that make sense? I’m not making any sense, am I? It’s just—.”

“Hey,” you cut her off, placing your hand on her shoulders trying to calm her down. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” she quickly mumbled so low that you couldn’t hear the words she said. “What I’m trying to say is that,” she took a deep breath. She was being stupid, this was not how she planned this whole thing to go. “I really like you Y/n. And I would love to take you out sometime.” 

There she said it. it was said. Out in the world and she couldn’t take it back. She didn’t want to though. No matter your answer, it felt good to confess her feelings. 

Your hands moved down from her shrouds to find her hands, giving them a squeeze and your thumbs triling circles in them. 

“I would love to go out with you. I was actually going to ask you earlier, but I chickened out,” you shyly admitted.

“You were?”

“How could I not? You are something really special Florence Pugh. It would be a mistake to just let you walk away.”

A smile found its way to Florence's lips. Maybe breaking her golden rule wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was exactly what she had to do.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[matixv]

Domme Lena Luthor x Female Sub Reader

Summary: you had been walking on thin ice from the moment you woke up, the previous night being the reason for the tension between you and Lena. She is strict about respecting her rules, and you definitely decided to break every single one in the last couple of days. Last night you took Lena to her limit, but she handled you coldly, taking you to your room for a sleepless and empty night. You want to push her even more tho, you want a reaction, the type of reaction you would expect from your Mistress.

Warnings: spanking, strap-on, size kink, kneeling, teasing, rough language, insulting.

Words: 2k

A cold, lonely and sad breakfast, that was what you were welcomed with as soon as you woke up. Looking down at the busy city, you questioned your actions but found nothing wrong… well, there was something wrong. Lena had been giving you the silent treatment since the evening before, ignoring your pity cries during the night.

She was usually more than happy to spare a couple of minutes to text you while she worked, but not today. Looking at your phone, you only found some comfort in your lock screen, a sneaky picture you took of her in one of the fancy restaurants she used to take you to.

A pale post-it note on the fridge reminded you to clean after yourself after having breakfast. But why were you supposed to follow the rules while she could do everything she wanted? That didn’t sound right. “Clean your own kitchen” your reminded her by text.

The tension between you and your Mistress didn’t go unnoticed even while you were going to work: your private driver was more than aware of the dynamic between you and Lena, and he wasn’t shy about asking questions about your relationship status. “We had a small fight yesterday, her fault obviously, I didn’t do nothing wrong” you repeated more to yourself than to him. “She is just being dramatic about it”

“This morning she looked quite guilty and worried to be honest, Miss”. Finally. She was about to give up.

The past month had been so full of work that she apparently forgot the special attention you need once in a while. She’s been coming home so late, just to find you asleep in your bed, holding her pillow as if it was her. There was no doubts she was feeling guilty about that, and you were kind of pushing on that sense of guilt.

You’ve been hitting her with the usual: “You forgot how to be a Mistress? Do I have to show you?” Or “It’s okay, I will fulfill my needs in some other way, I don’t need you”, but nothing seemed to upset her in the way you wanted.

Yesterday almost seemed like the day.

You teased her so much during her meetings, texting her naughty thoughts and naughty pictures, enjoying yourself a little on her couch, right in front of her macbook. Your fingers disappearing inside of you almost tempted her to stop everything and run to you. But that didn’t happen.

At the end of the night, the only thing u got was a fresh bruise on your arm. It took all your strength not to oppose to her while she was pushing you inside the bedroom, stopping all your fantasies with a cold “Go to sleep and don’t you dare do that again”

“Can you please take me to LuthorCorp? I need to talk to Lena” you asked the driver. Your work could wait, you worked for Lena after all.

People were not surprised to see you inside the building, it was like your second house. At the beginning of your relationship, you spent more time in there than you actually spent at your own house. It was a beautiful building, a little too white since you liked colorful walls. Lena’s office was obviously on the highest floor, she could see the entire city from her windows.

The elevator gave you time to breathe and to think about your next moves. You weren’t a brat, never had been one, but lately it seemed like the only way to have some kind of attention. “I hope she isn’t in a bad mood” you prayed to yourself, hoping for some needed contact.

When the elevator doors opened, papers were flying in the air, people were screaming and nothing was in a good mood, not even the heating system apparently. “I told you like seven times! I do not like those plans! Get out of my office!” She dismissed her assistant.

“Hello, Miss” she greeted you with her head bowed.

“Hello” you smiled with compassion at that poor woman.

You entered silently, sitting on one of the armchairs near her desk. You weren’t allowed there and you perfectly knew that, but you also knew that in stressful circumstances, you were welcomed. She was looking down at her screens, arms stretched forward and legs straight. She was wearing her usual work attire: black blouse and black pants, hair pulled back in a tidy bun. You always found yourself staring at her perfection, even if she reminded you yours wasn’t that different from hers.

Her face was so scrunched that her eyebrows seemed to be joined, her nose seemed slightly wrinkled, and even her lower lip couldn’t escape the clutches of her teeth. She wasn’t used to screaming at her employees, but stress could lead her to be a different person, a much meaner one… and you perfectly knew that.

“You should stop with that expression, or you’ll get wrinkles before you turn forty” you whispered loudly enough to be heard. “Too much stress will bring you nothing”

She slowly raised her face enough to send a cold stare in your direction, silently telling you to shut your mouth until it was too late not to face the consequences. “And who are you precisely to tell me what should I and shouldn’t do?”. A cold gust of wind seemed to break down your perfect hair.

At that point you could only do two things: apologize for your behavior and go back to the usual rhythm or keep teasing her until she gave in. The second option seemed like the only one for your needy mind, you couldn’t take another day without feeling her.

You decided to hit her with the one and only sentence she hated the most, the one that gave her a palpable sense of rage and lack of power: “Me? Oh, I’m definitely someone you do not own”

The clicking of her heels on the wooden floor felt like the proof it was working. Wetness started to spread between your legs as soon as you found her standing in front of you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. She bent a little bit, just to be at your level. “If I do not own you, tell me why I have your naked ass with my handprints on it as my lock screen, tell me while I carry your little collar as a bracelet and please, tell me why I could easily go into your panties and find nothing but your nasty cum, you little useless petty bitch”

You were so desperate that you found yourself strangling a little moan as she stared at you, waiting for your next move. It took you a minute to recover, but your answer wasn’t late to arrive.

“Well, you haven’t touched me or anything in a month, so I guessed you didn’t own me anymore”

You were ready for everything, you have been preparing for a month. In her office there was everything you needed: the paddle, the cane, whips, chains.. everything you would have liked her to use on your body.

“I’m sorry sweetheart” she sighed reaching for the other armchair. “Work has been drowning me into a never ending spiral of nightmares and overthinking. I noticed you were asking for attention, but I couldn’t give it to you yet, not with a full head. Come here…” she patted her lap, a small gesture you were waiting for.

You happily sat on her lap, finally feeling her warmth and smelling her strong powerful perfume. God how much you waited for those simple sensations.

“I’m sorry Lena”

“Lena? A month of zero discipline made you forget I’m not one of your peers?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress”

“That’s better”

She lowered her head until it was on your shoulder, smelling your skin while thinking about what to do next. A part of you knew she had to go back to work, but the other half hoped for different things. She made you stand up to reach her computer, only to close it with a swift movement. “We are going home, I think you relaxed for a little too long… work can wait”

The smile on your face was enough to tell her she made the right choice.

The ride home was the happiest you’ve ever been in a month: soft music playing, her right hand on your inner thigh, the sunlight and the warmth only a happy environment could bring.

You enjoyed her silence, she was getting ready for what was coming next. She needed a couple of minutes to gather her thoughts and her ideas. “We haven’t done something in a while, you want soft or hard? It’s completely your choice, I do not expect you to own me sex or whatever you want to do already, we can start soft…”

“You perfectly know what I want, Mistress”

“Then I do not want to hear a sound coming from your mouth until I say you are allowed. You will do what I order you to do, and do not complain, you are not in a good position already, do not make it worse for yourself”

“Yes Miss”

“You know what sweetie?”

“What?”

“You can start your punishments by cleaning the kitchen, since you had fun this morning”

Of course she read the message.

When she opened the door you followed her orders while she sat comfortably on her couch, crossing her legs and observing you carefully. You loved her eyes on you, she made you feel like the strongest yet weakest person in the world. It didn’t take long to clean what you left that morning, but knowing you could be on her knees already was thrilling you a lot.

“I’m done, Miss” you said reaching her on the couch.

“Kneel”

You fell on your knees, desperately waiting for more, thriving attention for your poor neglected body. You were careful to kneel right in front of her expensive shoes, a beautiful pair of shiny Louboutin.

“You are even more perfect like this”

She pulled your hair so hard you didn’t even have time to realize she was taking you to your bedroom, harshly handling you like the toy she repeated you were. “Just a fucking toy”

She asked you to take off your clothes until you were fully exposed to her sight, right on the bed in front of her. She handcuffed you to the bed headboard, giving you no time to complain or resist… you wouldn’t have done it anyway, you waited too much.

“I counted every single hateful, disrespectful and rude text you’ve sent me in the past days… around eighty five if I remember well. Let’s see… should I give you the same number of… I don’t know… ruined orgasms? Spankings? Slaps?”

“Whatever you think it’s the right choice,Miss”

She turned you around with a swift movement, interlacing your arms almost painfully. You felt the pain before the sound, her hand coming down on your ass time after time, again until you started crying and panting for a break, a break that didn’t come.

Your ass was covered in bright red handprints, giving your skin a nice shade. “It hurts, Miss” you cried.

“Does it?” She replied sarcastically.

Before you knew it, she disappeared in the dark walking closet, coming back with one of your biggest strap on and a tube of lube. “I guess you don’t need that” she laughed helping you on all fours. “Look at you, pathetic”

“I can’t take it”

Well, she didn’t care a bit.

She fucked you mercilessly, reminding you of who was in charge. Every trust was enough to hit you in the right place, making you see stars every time she entered you.

After what it seemed hours long, she finally let you come, giving you what you have been asking for. You fell on the bed, limping body, you felt a cold washcloth being carefully pressed against your back and your neck, softly washing away all the sweat from your hard night.

“Thank you” you whispered while she removed your handcuffs. “For everything”

“I wish you would brat more often sweetie, I had fun” she smiled laying beside you.

————————————————————————————

Let me know if you liked it and if you want to read more :)

[batsplat]

I’m gonna sound like a boomer but we’re never gonna get any rivalries on par with vale’s feuds or actually any pre late 2010s feuds anymore. and I think social media is definitely one of the major reasons why. now you have to watch what you say bc it’s gonna be immediately broadcasted and some your 253655665 followers or insta or twitter are gonna overreact and go hurl abuse in another guy’s comments. and this is so lame.

right there with you anon. I've been wondering about the 'why are athletes these days so boring' question for years (not in motogp specifically) and one theory I've seen touted is just the increased professionalisation of sports, how much more all-consuming it is from childhood onwards - essentially suggesting athletes today don't have the time to develop a personality or cook up feuds lol. and I think there's probably something to that theory - the current demands of professional sports are inevitably producing some singularly single-minded athletes, far more pr-friendly and moulded into being acceptable to the average consumer... but the other part of the equation just has to be the incredible levels of scrutiny they're subjected to. social media and the rabid fanbases it helps cultivate have to be a part of that

I'm always wary of speaking too definitively about the vibes of an era I wasn't around to experience - obviously controversies back then were also, in fact, controversial, sometimes athletes had to walk back their comments, fanbases certainly were rabid... but it's all a question of degree, isn't it - and how relentless the content consumption is, the ferocity of the news cycle, how inescapable everyone's opinions on everything end up being. if you look at the general tone of the alien era, I just don't think that kind of thing would be possible nowadays. it really wasn't just valentino either, and it's always worth remembering the context of the time in which valentino rose through the ranks. his first major feud, after all, was with a notoriously abrasive rider who was hardly beloved by his non-valentino opponents - and let's not forget how he was physically threatened by two riders after his very first grand prix (to be clear, I am not endorsing threatening seventeen year olds and think it's probably quite good they don't do that anymore). god, if casey said some of the stuff he used to come out with nowadays, and not just about valentino either... the discourse, it would be bad. the jorge/dani feud too would surely have reached cataclysmic levels of toxicity

and there's a lot of people who say, 'well, why don't you think competitors can just be respectful to each other, why can't athletes just be tough in competition and friendly outside of it, why do you need everyone to hate each other' - look, I think it's fun! sports is supposed to be about extreme emotions, heightened emotions about these artificial contests that feel larger than life. in one sense, it really isn't that serious, but on the other hand it obviously couldn't be more serious. more important than life or death, as the cliché goes, or that orwell 'war minus the shooting' quote mat oxley is ever so fond of - but that's only because we ascribe it meaning. which allows it to exist in this fun zone where we can live out these bizarrely dramatic stories that are high on emotional stakes, but for all intents and purposes are rather less high on material stakes (certainly for the fan). it's a release of a kind, sometimes an escape. now, personally, I enjoy my drama with a little bit of edge, of nastiness, which I understand is a personal preference but don't think (as is sometimes suggested) means I am any less invested in the sporting side of the equation. it is the substance of the sport that provides the scaffolding for the human interest stories it generates, but fundamentally nobody would give a shit about sports without the human interest element - and to me, a feud is simply an extension of that principle

another probably controversial critique of the 'why can't everyone like each other' stance is that I just fundamentally believe it to be dishonest. or, look, maybe there are some competitors out there who can feel nothing but warmth and love in their hearts for the opponent who has just beaten them - which is very lovely for them, they're clearly far better people than I am. but I don't buy everyone feels that way and I also don't buy this is something that has changed with a generation or two. obviously, the norms within any given sport end up shaping how the athlete approaches competition, what they believe is acceptable to say or do, or even to think or feel. the emotions might be visceral, they may even resemble hate, but the question is to what extent we allow them to be expressed. if these people don't like each other, if they think uncharitable thoughts towards each other, then, y'know, let them have at it as far as I'm concerned. respect is overrated. and even when it's not just earnestly felt emotions, even when they really are just playing games, attempting to fuck with their rivals... well, that's the other question, is it. is it acceptable to deliberately attempt use 'psychological' tactics, perhaps even intimidation, to win a contest or not? to me, the answer is 'obviously yes' and 'that's how sports works', but I accept not everyone agrees lol

I have particularly little patience with this stance in motogp, I think, because the belief that 'riding in a manner that could physically hurt another human being' is an acceptable element of competition but 'not conforming to social niceties afterwards' is not feels viscerally absurd to me. now, the former just has to be countenanced to some degree or other as part of the moral calculus you are performing in even engaging with the sport, because fundamentally you cannot 'objectively' determine how much risk riders can acceptably put each other in before it crosses a moral line. as far as I'm concerned, then, you might as well have at least some patience for the latter too - we're already morally firmly in the grey here. and intimidation still happens, after all, mind games are still all the flavour... but there's this constant need for subtlety, to keep the nastier side of competing hush hush, that I find deeply tedious. sure, sometimes subtlety can be nice, but at this point it feels less like a personal preference and more an ironclad requirement. and this is the thing, right. sometimes, people are arseholes. professional athletes certainly are. sometimes, just like their fans, they feel violently extreme emotions. especially if they've just been competing. but of course, if every single controversy attracts such out-sized vitriol from fans, a moral referendum on everyone involved, a boiling pot of feverish partisanship... well, it's unsurprising if athletes try to steer clear from all that, isn't it

I also don't think we're going to get another feud that can get mentioned in the same breath as valentino's offerings any time soon, though perhaps next year we can have a good go at it. (ironically, of course, this is still an extension of one of his feuds - you have this built-in vitriol which I reckon at times allows it to worm its way past the filters all of these people have developed.) which, you know, I don't need them to artificially cook up feuds just for the sake of it. beyond broader trends between generations, obviously this is also a question of individual personalities and how they happen to interact with each other. if valentino's feuds are as good as it gets, I can live with that - I do still enjoy the sport plenty, am grateful to valentino for providing me so much good archival material to pour over and dissect, and don't want to ask for too much here. god knows, the current version of motogp is still highly dramatic by the standards of my main sport, and unfortunately I still watch that shit all the time. but it's still a bit of a shame that competitors don't seem to get a lot of choice in the matter these days. and it's a bit of a shame that fans seemingly prefer it this way, going by the vitriol they heap on athletes over any and every offence. it's also a bit of a shame that it feels like there's no real escaping the relentless partisanship of online fan spaces. personally I'm not all that into discoursing about whether things are 'good' or 'bad' and more into establishing whether something's 'interesting' and then thinking about it some more, which doesn't feel like much of an option if you for some reason ever get struck by the desire to interact with other fans online. but it is what it is, y'know. at least we'll always have that time valentino put a curse on a guy

[kramerblogrealgood]

Comic books that you should read!!! Yes you!!! Right now!!!

These are comics I really enjoy! I'm trying to stick to slightly more obscure comics, preferably stuff that's a little newer, but that's by no means a rule! This is my list baby, I make the rules!

#1: Local Man (Image Comics, 2023)

Local Man follows Jack Xaver, who was once the superhero Crossjack before being unceremoniously kicked out of his team and legally barred from any vigilante activity. Moving back in with his parents in his destitute former hometown, Jack starts to unravel a conspiracy that has ties to both his old team and his old town.

It rules! It's funny and heartfelt and thrilling and if it were a TV show you'd never stop hearing about it. It's also one of the few modern original Image series that actually takes place in the "Image Universe", so it's packed with references to characters like Shadowhawk. You don't need to know all these guys to enjoy the comic by any means, but it's fun for long-time fans.

Most of all, I'm a fan of the basic conceit of this comic: it looks at The Dark Age of Comic Books with the same reverent-yet-critical eye that so many other comics used on the golden and silver ages. I think that rules! A lot of this stuff deserves reappraisal!

#2: The Wrong Earth (Ahoy Comics, 2018)

The concept for this is pretty simple: what if Adam West's Batman got sent to the world of the Nolan trilogy, and Christian Bale's Batman got sent to the world of the 1966 TV show?

They hit all the dramatic and comedic beats you could imagine coming from this premise, and a few you probably couldn't think of. It's not just a one-dimensional parody, though: really sharp writing and an engaging mystery elevate what could easily be, like, a Dorkly video into something special. Which is to say: if you think this premise sounds good you'll love this comic, and if you think it sounds stupid you'll probably still like this comic.

There are some cool character designs here, but my favorite is the villain in both universes:

His name is Number One, and he's a crime boss with an egomania/numbers gimmick. (Sorry for the compressed jpegs)

I imagine "design an original 1960s villain, and then design his edgy 2000s reboot version" would be a difficult prompt for an artist, but Jamal Igle knocks that shit outta the park. Number One really feels like he could fit into Batman's rogues gallery, but he's not a riff on anyone in particular- he's kind of like all of them. The "1"-shaped scar is an especially great touch.

#3: Ice Cream Man (Image Comics, 2018)

(This image isn't from any cover as far as I can tell, it was posted on instagram by writer W. Maxwell Prince.)

Hey, another from Image Comics! And it's my favorite genre, too: horror anthology. If the pic I chose didn't tip you off, this one gets SPOOKAY! The basic premise is that every issue is a one-shot that features a character going through some kind of horrible misfortune. Tying all these tales of woe together is the enigmatic Ice Cream Man, who seems to be somehow torturing all these humans for his own amusement. We eventually learn that he's an evil god-type thing named Riccardus, and he has a good counterpart who's trying to stop him- all the lore stuff is a little vague, but that doesn't mean it's not interesting! The art style used by artist Martin Morazzo is almost uncanny-valley, it reminds me of The Shivering Truth.

Some of the "horror" in this comic is really personal and upsetting, by the way- the one about dementia made me cry. Actually, a lot of these made me cry. Full on snotty gasp-sobbing. 10/10. Riccardus has real sexyman potential if the freaks on this site would ever read something besides fuckin Wayne Family Adventures.

#4: Wayne Family Adventures (DC/Webtoon, 2021)

What? It's cute, fuck you. "eeuuuhhh it's out of character" you sound like a dweeb man

#5: Eight Billion Genies (Image Comics, 2021)

Just like The Wrong Earth, this has a killer elevator pitch: what if every single person on Earth got exactly one wish, all at the same time? Also like The Wrong Earth, it takes it's premise in every angle you can think of- there's wish trading, wish stealing, cities that are kept safe from the chaos of the outside world but you have to give the city government your wish to get in, you name it. No wonder Amazon bought the rights. Keep an eye out for that movie/series, I guess.

Ok, I need some non-image comics.

#6: Giant Days (Boom! Studios, 2015)

Anime fans, this one's for you: you know all those series you love about groups of cute girls just going through their daily lives? Well imagine if those cute girls were over eightee- hey wait where are you going come back

Giant Days is a slice-of-life story about three young women facing the challenges of college life. Apparently it's a spin-off of a webcomic with like 15 years of strips, but I don't care about all that and neither should you! It's a little like gilmore girls in terms of tone. The dialogue is snappy, all the characters play off each other in ways that's fun to see, and there's this 7 foot tall Australian rower chick who's completely obsessed with her reedy loser boyfriend. It's just comforting. It's like a big plate of mashed potatoes, this comic.

Hey, speaking of slice-of-life:

#7: Megg, Mogg and Owl (Indie/Fantagraphics, 2013ish)

This has the honor of being the only comic on this list that's been adapted to another type of media, in the form of a segment on Justin Roiland's weird kinda-shitty Hulu halloween special. Not much of an honor, I guess.

Anyways! MM&O is about a group of "friends" who live together in drug-addled squalor. Megg is a chronically depressed witch just waiting to die. Mogg, Megg's boyfriend, is a talking cat who just wants to keep the degenerate lifestyle they've built for themselves stable, and Owl is a neurotic sex addict who wants to make something of himself but doesn't want to lose his only companions, and Werewolf Jones is a drug-dealing sociopath. It's like Peep Show! I absolutely love this comic, I reread it constantly, but I'm having a hard time pitching it.

If Giant Days is a plate of mashed potatoes this is like... a gas station hot dog eaten over a storm drain or something. Still kind of comforting, just in a different way. Let's cleanse our palette with some capeshit.

#8: Planetary (Wildstorm/DC, 1998)

Planetary rocks. We follow an amnesiac immortal named Elias Snow as he travels the globe with his top-secret Planetary Investigations team to uncover the secrets of the Wildstorm universe. Think of it like... The X-Files crossed with The Venture Brothers. X-Files in that they investigate weirdo mysteries, Venture Brothers in that every genre of speculative fiction- from Doc Savage-style pulp heroes to Kaiju to James Bond superspies- all exist, or existed, in some form.

Also on the team besides Snow are The Drummer (who has some kind of information-based power I never really understood) and Jakita Wagner, the super-strong ADHD daughter of a Tarzan expy. It's hard to do it justice in a post like this, buy a copy! Or pirate it, if you don't want to give Warren Ellis any money!

#9: Bad Enders (Indie, 2020)

Hey, this one is free! Check it out here: https://beany-tuesday.itch.io/bad-enders-pilot-issue

Bad Enders is a shonen pastiche with all the humor and charm you could expect from a @beanytuesday joint. It's great! It follows a burnt-out twentysomething who once had ambitions of becoming a demon hunter, but has since resigned himself to a life of filling out excel spreadsheets. Beanytuesday has stated there probably won't be any more Bad Enders content, but he has another comic called GUE (https://beanytuesday.tumblr.com/tagged/gue/chrono) that takes place in the same universe.

#10: G-Man (Image Comics, 2009)

i bet you thought i was done with image huh

Anyways, this was my jam back in like 3rd grade and you know what? It holds up. When they say "all-ages" they fuckin mean all ages, I'm a grown man and I can enjoy this.

The story of this entry is that I wanted to end on 10 instead of 9.

The story of this comic is that a kid named Mikey G gets his hands on a magic blanket that allows him to fly, but his brother ALSO uses the magic blanket to fly with and they become, like, rivals, but this other kid can also fly and he starts fucking with them... better than it sounds. There's also this crazy arc later in the series where they have a baby brother but- hold on, I'll show you

See? Nuts.

Ok, that was all of them bye

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Played by Naima Simone

4/5. 9/3/24.

Vibes: widower hero, hockey romance, "it's just a warm body", love after loss

Heat Index: 7/10

Still grieving the loss of her professional and personal partner, firefighter Adina can't resist opening the journal she finds after a fire at a hockey facility. The journal details the kind of loss she understands deeply--but when she brings it back to the owner, widower and star player Solomon, he's furious that she got a glimpse at his innermost feelings. But as he realizes that Adina understands where he's coming from better than anyone else, enmity gives way to bonding, which gives way to a fierce physical attraction... The question is, can either one risk falling in love again?

Oof. Played is a unique take on the hockey romance subgenre (and not only because Solomon is the only Black hockey hero I've read thus far, and the book doesn't shy away from how white the sport is). While the hockey is a part of it, the firefighting is no less so. It's about two people who genuinely love their jobs, but have also let themselves lose who they are in it because they can't face the reality of their new lives. It's about falling in love out of understanding and pretending that it's just physical. And it's about the inevitable messiness that comes with falling for someone after losing another.

This makes it sound super heavy--and I wouldn't say it totally is? Like, there's definitely some heavy stuff here, but overall the book is fun and sexy and dramatic. It just also takes the time to think deeply about its plot, and I appreciate that quite a bit.

Quick Takes:

--The thing I really enjoy about this book is that Adina and Solomon actually get each other from the jump, arguably before they even meet. However, they--especially Solomon--really fight that, which kind of makes it easier to pass it off as something physical. They don't act on the physical too quickly (though I wouldn't call this a slow burn either) but there's this conscious effort by both of them to sort of focus on that because the other option is... what? Being in love? Perish the thought!

--This is a single parent romance! Solomon is not only a widower, but the father of a young son. I'm very vocal about my iffiness re: kids in romance novels, but this one was done well in my opinion. First off, he actually reads like a child. Second, he's definitely a big part of Solomon's life, but a part of what the novel confronts is that Solomon has been leaning on his in-laws as coparents since his wife died (which is a super real thing, right?). This not only provides us with good plot and character stuff... it also ensures that we don't have too much of the kid on the page. I know, I'm mercenary, but it's smart writing!

Still, Solomon being this really loving but imperfect father so worked for me (and Adina). I loved the way he was presented as totally affectionate and vocally loving towards his son. So many books focus on like, this daddy's girl thing with single father heroes, and... I don't know. We need more depictions of fathers who kiss and cuddle and dote on their little boys, right?

--This novel actually tackles some hard stuff alongside the romance I'll give readers a heads up and say that while it doesn't venture into sexual assault territory, Adina does have to deal with some pretty serious sexual harassment at work. At points, I did think there was a LOT packed in here, but one thing I did appreciate was that there wasn't this pretty "tied with a bow" resolution to everything. There are some very human issues confronted here, and the resolutions felt like... very humanly in progress.

That said, I did kind of feel like the ending was a bit rushed (and I have my quibble with one aspect) and some trimming of those other aspects might have left us with more time for a smoother resolution.

--One of the things I appreciate about this book is how honest it is about falling in love after losing someone. Often, I think romance can be rather cruel to the dead spouse, as it were, and diminishes the relationship... which cheapens the central romance to me. Here, you see exactly how much both Solomon and Adina loved their lost partners. They didn't get to choose to end the relationships. They were cut off. Who knows what would have happened if their partners had lived, but that's the reality we're living with, right? And it doesn't lessen their love for their new partners at all.

The Sex:

Ooooh, it's good. There aren't too many full-length sex scenes in the novel, but those that you do get are very long, preceded by a lot of tension, and INTENSE. Solomon is super growly and aggressive, and Adina kind of gets to let her own naturally dominant side take a bit of a backseat when he's tossing her around. We love to see it.

Approaching tough topics with grace, Played is a hot, emotional book that remains a good time throughout, even when it gets deep. (And the book isn't the only one that gets deep heeeeey--.) Definitely a "hockey romance for people who don't like hockey romances... and also those that do" kind of novel.

Thanks to NetGalley and Montlake for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[nitewrighter]

For the directors cut ask: the Volskaya Incident fics?

I remember when I read those one thing that I really enjoyed about that arc was how, despite jumping between multiple POVs and the action constantly moving around the facility, I never felt like I was lost/confused as to where the characters were or what they were doing. You also did a really good job of this in Breach and Dragonback IMO.

(Also I get if you don’t want to talk about OW so if you’d prefer take a star emoji ⭐️ and use this as an excuse to talk about a different fic if you want)

*takes a long drag from my cigarette holder like I'm Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard* Ah... the Volskaya Incident... I was a star back then.

I don't mind talking about my Overwatch fics--honestly talking about them even though I'm pretty burnt out and disillusioned about Overwatch's canon plot these days really kind of relieves the whole sense of sunk cost with those fics, because it's like... even if I really can't summon up the mental stamina for Overwatch that I used to, it's nice that people liked those fics in the moment, you know?

So we're gonna go way way way back to the ancient year of 2017 (SEVEN YEARS?!?!) when I was working off of a giant pile of shippy Valentines Day prompts from a list I had put together myself-- god, it's been years since I've written a prompt list. In February, I got a prompt for a Gency "confession" (that was the prompt--confession) and the framework for this confession was, "oohh what if this was in the aftermath of finding out Reaper's Identity and Mercy's also recovering from a dire injury." This was 2 years before Michael Chu's "Valkyrie" short story came out which established that Mercy knows Reyes is Reaper in literally the most underwhelming way it possibly could. Back in those days I think all of us who were feverishly combing through every single lore drop were kind of operating off of the assumption that the story was set up for a lot of dramatic "I'm not dead! And I'm actually this guy!" reveals. We had everyone's background, and we could fill in certain things, but we also didn't actually know how much the characters knew about each other. So I wrote that confession fic back in February, but I also knew I was setting myself up for having to write this dramatic, action-packed fic later on.

Thankfully, in what was kind of an arbitrary choice at the time, just my placing the fic in the Volskaya map ended up filling in significant details for how I was going to set up and progress the fic. I can tell you I picked that map because I always LOVED the lighting on that map--it was so soft, and I loved how this soft quiet lighting contrasted against all these big mechanical structures. I know it sounds stupid now, what with the... everything... but a part of me always wanted to visit Russia, drink tea from a samovar and ride the Siberian express---the Russian setting kind of reinforced this sense of SWEEPING VASTNESS AND EPIC ROMANCE---again I must stress that this was back in 2017, fucking five years before the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Also I saw the Julie Christie Doctor Zhivago at like... 14, which even at 14 had me like, "Hmmm this perspective seems skewed, with regard to the class struggles and all" but just the sheer scale of the story and the sense of these characters being caught up in historical events so far beyond their control and still trying to love each other in spite of everything probably permanently fucked up my brain with regards to Eastern Europe.

I wrote the 'confession' fic in late February, but the actual Volskaya Incident fics didn't pop up until June--and I can tell you why that is! The truth is, I was always a hardcore Gency propagandist, but I felt if I was just pumping out gency fic after gency fic, then people wouldn't take me or my beloved ship seriously, so I made a point of working on plenty of short, non-demanding prompts for the rest of the cast, and also for the purpose of actually getting a stronger grasp of the timeline. Every fic I wrote that wasn't Gency, was, in the back of my mind, contributing to the 'slow burn' factor of Gency, giving it context and passage of time.

Like, for all my love of the Narrowly-Avoided-Robot-Apocalypse worldbuilding, I'm willing to admit that the Gency romance was always pretty much always the emotional heart of my entire fic continuity in general, but also I really wanted to make it feel well-woven into both the action and plot progression, so this wasn't just the Mercy whump fic. The romance needed to be grounded in the world because if what I was writing didn't feel like it could be canon Overwatch, then I felt like I had already lost. So this was also the Reaper Reveal Fic, which quickly also turned into the Jack and Ana Reveal and Recruitment fic, and the Zarya recruitment fic--but of course that was already kind of established by virtue of the Zarya name drop in the confession fic. I also had a desire to like... kind of give it the chaotic feel of an actual round of Overwatch back then. I was honestly surprised at how well the hero kits fit into the narrative progression fo the fic, and honestly I think this was the fic that, for me established the rhythm of character and physical conflict throughout my fic continuity.

It's wild to me that they've taken all of the the 2Cap maps out of regular quickplay--so like, not only has this fic been blown out of the canon water by the Valkyrie short story and Cassidy's "New Blood" comics, but the map it takes place in isn't even really in the mainstream game lobby anymore and can only be accessed either in custom games or on certain days of the week in the Arcade.

[just-a-carrot]

Wonderland being able to affect the real world continues to be so interesting to me... this tree decided to sprout and become Everyone's* Problem. Also slowly becoming my dumb little theory that the tree got tired of waiting for them to return so it just trapped them in D&D world** 🤣 it has an AoE effect. It sounds 110% nonsensical on paper, but since Wonderland becomes more and more distorted as the loops progress... I feel like a significantly morphed version of it could exist and be 'Fantastic Wonderland' and that would explain a bit why the cast retains memories of OFW. Anyways, thank you Arc 1 ending*** for me being able to make the single most over-complicated OFW theory. And thank you tree for being the real MVP (Most Valuable Plant).

*A small handful of people **Well, not really that it got 'tired', but that the effects of Wonderland could continue to influence the characters' everyday lives... I think maybe at one point a character might have wished for themself to have been in an entirely different world/an entirely different person/something along those lines, and retroactively The Tree made it so that they'd go into Fantastic Wonderland during the D&D session. Which also explains why life eventually goes on for the main cast while there are still the Fantastic Wonderland counterparts living out their lives, since Iggy died in the loop HOWEVER so did Ignatius so Iggy restarted in his world and Ignatius restarted in Fantastic Wonderland... ***The one caveat is that maybe it only worked because Iggy was going to die anyways and reset the loop so it Didn't Really Matter if he was erased... and to that I say: maybe. (But also-- Iggy making a poorly worded wish to have never gone into Wonderland only to realize how dramatically that would impact their lives as he never specified within which time frame is SUCH GOOD ANGST if the tree can, and will, make any wishes a reality****. Since while all the worst stuff in their lives goes away, so does the secret that kind of kept the whole group together.) ****Caveat to this is that the tree probably really doesn't want to make a wish actively harmful to itself, but if I include any more caveats my footnotes are never going to end.

"continues to be so interesting to me" -> me, as well, to be honest, since i'll be real and admit that i have not thought through every possible possibility for things that could happen in this world or with these chars or with this tree, and i don't have all the answers (and never will) so i'm always really intrigued and curious when people have their own theories and ideas for How Things Work or what other types of scenarios and/or adventures that could happen as a result of the whole situation they've gotten themselves into

ofc OFW being The Most Out There one of all like what is even up with it and why does it exist. i could not tell you LOL but i actually quite like it that there aren't a lot of cut-and-dry answers because it leaves so much room open for theories and interpretations and people can come up with their own ideas, which opens up the world and possibilities even more

even with the finale though a number of Big Questions will finally be answered, there's still a lot that i've kept unanswered because i just prefer it that way. i'd rather people enjoy that realm of possibility than state everything matter-of-factly and limit everything that could possibly be

[aversiteespabilas]

THE DOLLS ARE BACK AND WETTER, SADDER, CUTER, AND STRONGER THAN EVER!!!

Yuki's DRENCHED, that poor bnnuy boy. I never knew how much I needed to see a wet pathetic rabbit until now. He looks like he'd make a wet splat sound if he was slapped on a wall (like throwing a soaked towel on tile.)

TETSU AND YUSUKE NOOOOO- There's so many emotionsss!!!! They're so disappointed in themselves, how could they let eachother down so terribly. But, God, they're so relieved to see eachother again. At the end of the day, they're still brothers and they love each other sososososo much. But they've made so many mistakes that hurt one another and themselves. It's so sad don't do this to meeee (jk, I LOVE ITTTTT)

and...the cuddles...the cuddles...THE CUDDLES!!

soff bunny's cuddling??? BIG BNUUY TUCK LIL BNUUY TO BEDD????? They're adorable pleaseeeee spareee meeeee aaaahhhhhh. I know for a FACT it HAD to have hurt Yusuke that he doesn't remember him...like, not even ONE bit??? after all the cuddles and games of peek-a-boo? not a single memory? that definitely stung. unsurprising considering Yuki's age at the time, but still hard to think about for sure.

and martial arts bunny's??? guys...they're so strong ya'll, DON'T mess with them!!! Don't let the fluff deceive you, they're not cute pet store bunny's!!

Not sure if it's the sharp lining style or Yuki's muscles, but i'm choosing to believe Yuki has fat biceps, yeah he's super strong ya'll.

also, Ken getting his ass handed to him buy an 18 year old?? get humbled old-young man

anyway's back into the abyss I go, lots of love and kisses to You and Rhin!!! (Also Rhin if you're reading this, the new UTSLH update was so delicious i'm foaming from the mouth!!!! expect a comment sometime soon, love youuu 🫶)

- 😎

OH YEEAHH AND YOU'RE BACK TOO!!! WELCOME!!!

I really REALLY needed to try my hand at doing wet fur, the images wouldn't leave my brain jhdfjg "He looks like he'd make a wet splat sound if he was slapped on a wall" YESSS OH THAT WAS THE EXACT GOAL, GOOD. I will say these are mostly inspired by yet-to-be-released Sword Lifted chapters sooo... spoilers without context? But here, enjoy our delightful Wet Yuki commentary:

AWH MAN I've been drawing Tetsu A LOT lately (and I will dO IT AGAIN) but I realized I hadn't really drawn that many sibling moments between him and Yusuke, so there's THE COMFOOORT! My thought with that one was them comforting each other about having lost Keiko. Tetsuya is not one to cry often at all, but Keiko was his whole world for twenty-five years of his life. That kind of pain doesn't go away so easily... It's so good that they both can have someone to grieve with now, though. They don't have to go through this alone!!

Oh it definitely stung Yusuke that his nephew doesn't remember him, and it's really weird on Yuki's part too! Rhin and I keep going back to discussing Yuki's characterization in Sword Lifted just because the situation on his part is so strange it's impossible to "react accordingly". This guy you don't remember and whom nobody told you about was almost like an older brother to you and played with you and cradled you to sleep as a baby, how wild is that??? But listen, I do know if anyone was going to look at this situation in the most practical, polite and straightforward way, it would be Yuki.

THEY'RE BATTLE BNNUYYYS you know, for being a samurai-inspired AU on an action shonen show's setting, I sure don't draw as much actual samurai-ing as I should djfgjdf I NEED TO REMEDY THAT, I'm really itching to do some big dramatic illustrations, but my to-draw list just keeps getting larger and larger with bunny stuff..... awh lord save me.

Oh Yuki is definitely all steel under that fur for sure for sure. I feel like I tend to draw characters scrawnier than they'd realistically be, but it's kind of my brain unconsciously going LITTLE BOY djfdgf to be honest Yusuke, Ken and Mari are the ones I'm generally more conscious about, when it comes to body types? Just because Rhin made a really good point of them being Big Guy, Tall Slim Guy and Hourglass Woman and I'm so weak about SHAPES. But also as I keep improving with my anatomy I try to be more aware of what the body types of my OCs are, and how to show that with time too.

AND RHIN SAYS HI BACK!!!

It's always a delight to have you buddy 💕 Stay tuned for more rabbits!!!

[alligaytorswamp]

(disclaimer before I start that I'm not trying to argue with or discount what you said) Sorry for the long ask. On the "character's no. 1 fan" without joking thing, I don't exactly know how to phrase this without sounding weird but here goes:

I'm of the unfortunate demeanor that I fall into that category of people to an extent. I've tried thinking differently about it but I just can't bring myself to accept that there's no "wrong" way to enjoy a character.

BIG however, I keep that to myself. I would never try to gatekeep characters I like because I understand that other people are going to enjoy them whether I like it or not! And I can never control how they're going to like the same characters I do! And I'll let people go on about the character even if I don't exactly agree with what they're saying and I'm not going to correct them on headcanons or their own feelings ffs!

I know it's a frivolous thing to be upset about, but I can't control how I feel about someone liking something the "wrong" way. But what I can control is how I openly react. It's so easy to choose not to piss in someone else's cheerios.

This is so hard to phrase without sounding pretentious, so I'll use an example:

I really like Scaramouche. I've been playing Genshin since 1.0 and I was there in 1.1 when he was introduced. Long story short, I despise what they did to him and you'll never ever see me calling him "Wanderer" in most contexts. But guess what? A lot of people like the change! Am I going to tell them they're wrong for enjoying him that way just because it hurts my feelings? No! Those people aren't responsible for my feelings and trying to hold them responsible is asinine!

It all boils down to personal feelings. I know this kind of gatekeeping comes from a place of deep discomfort paired with an inability to understand that others are not responsible for personal feelings (especially not strangers on the internet). I'm not trying to excuse the actions of character gatekeepers, nor am I trying to garner any kind of sympathy. It's just frustrating that people behave like this. Like, oh no, someone likes The Character wrong. That sounds like a you problem. Get over it.

Putting my reply under the cut because i know it will get lengthy

at first i wondered if you were one of the people i talked about in that post, trying to defend your honor or whatnot but, dear anon, you are not part of the freaks i talked about!

first of all, i do agree actually. i am also a strong believer that some people like characters in a wrong way. some people can be extremely weird about them, rude, etc

like the whole ordeal of fan-favorite characters having their tags flooded with complete OOC content, that makes you question if the fandom ever considered reading a single bit of canon-

i, for one, hate like 80% of things people say about baizhu, given the chance i'd probably find an issue with majority of his fans (somehow) kaveh- i literally prefer to pretend fandom perception of him does not exist. if i see a kaveh fav in the wild i do believe they have a great taste but my god i do not trust them right away

i absolutely agree that one can have an understanding of a character that separates them from most of the fanbase, making enjoying this character a little painful, as you kinda end up being the only one with this huge brain, knowing that few of your fellow character-enjoyers will even Understand

(and this is ofc a dramatic way to describe it. we all have our own preferences and opinions. they may never match. however being a grown person you likely are aware of it and you won't be having an actual war against the fandom... you just gonna rant to your besties, or make a cute tumblr post without putting into the tag of the character- and that is it)

this all however is about like deeper comprehension of the character in question, or perhaps just personal opinion/projection/etc. which is completely fine and dandy, i do that, you do that, everyone does that

but like you yourself mention - there is common sense

sure within my heart i am 'gatekeeping' baizhu, because i can't trust an average person to truly Get Him. however in the end of the day it is mostly a joke. i still adore talking about him with other people, and hearing others gush about him. it's great! would i ever go to a person and be like 'u like baizhu incorrectly' or after hearing my friend speak of him go 'um actually!!! this isn't how you should feel!!!!' ??? absolutely not. again if hanging out with someone who likes my fav, no matter how much they like them, even if they only like their vibe or whatever, i would be happy. LMAO. it's as simple as that - enjoying a fav character with someone else is fun even if your opinions don't completely match. and if they don't match too much, or the topic of the conversation revolves around smth you don't agree with - a normal person will just politely express how they can't share this sentiment OR perhaps you won't even say a word. you will just nod along because there is no point of arguing over that

my post was not about any of this tho

my post was about those who manage to speak about their fav in a way that is so suffocating, it makes you feel weird about liking the same dude. it's all completely surface level, too, they are just so very obnoxious about. any mention of this character is For Them, they won't even consider your interests, never, not once. they are not here to share the joy of liking a character, they are here to flex how much they like them. and how powerful their feeling is. you, by their design, will never be considered on their level. they are the no.1 xyz fan, the ceo of xyz, etc. you are here to witness how much they thirst for this character and cheer i guess? idk

it's actually kind of hard to describe as it's just so unimaginable to me, i am yet to find a 'formula' for this type of behavior. however it is mostly a vibe and lack of consideration. they don't talk WITH other people about their favs, they talk AT them.

it's such an odd thing - i am repeating myself - but they just manage to make the topic revolve around their grand feelings so hard, that if you do not match this type of freak you end up feeling like your own care for this character is somehow lesser than theirs. that perhaps you didn't "earn" to truly call yourself a fan

and i guess the most important aspect of this all, it's not about strangers on the internet.... it's about friends/fellows

the real freakiness comes not from the fact that they are not 'maybe a little too passionate while talking to a random person', no they are this way around friends lol. you talk to them thinking you gonna have this cute thing in common, share a favorite character. but that does not happen.

they are unable to share. the character belongs to them 100%. and they will act judgy about the way you speak of them, god forbid you talk about their fav too much, they will definitely get cranky. all of this is just a competition to them which they have to win. and the toxicity of it all may cause you to put your own feelings aside and start acting as obnoxious just to feel like you are allowed to like this character too.

and it's fucking crazy!!! this is why i made this post! because it's so gross and weird! it's like we are kindergarten and these losers are yet to learn how to share toys! these characters are also - FICTIONAL - they don't even exist. how hard it is to be happy to be around a fellow fan? i have no idea. but for some people it's borderline impossible, and they have an amazing skill in making you regret getting into media/liking a character

tldr; i agree with you, gatekeeping (light-hearted) of a character is a normal thing, we all have our of opinions and fanbases are weird as hell. but it's a whole different topic! to be downright rude to people you know, to act like you are the only one to ever like this fictional character is weird. people who make you feel like you have to prove yourself in order to be a fan of smth are like children who can't share toys, being friends with them is tiring, and sharing your passions with them is like a gamble. they either wont care about your interest OR they gonna metaphorically steal a fav from you and act like you do not belong

[mizukisdaycare]

Agere!Yosuke HCs

A/N: I’m finally back on my writing kick and these have been burning a hole into my drafts so I’ve gotta post them before I forget about them again ^^;;

- I think Yosuke would be flip with a bit of a more regressor lean! Whenever he’s small, he tends to get clingy towards Yu. Yu and Yosuke take turns watching each other whenever they’re small, though they’ve regressed together a couple times! They’re practically inseparable..

- Yu is honestly his favorite caregiver out of all his friends. Don’t get him wrong! He loves all his friends!! It’s just that Yu is the best partner in the whole wide world! He knows everything about him! Favorite foods, favorite shows, favorite places to go, you name it! Yu is an overdramatic caregiver. He dramatizes everything! (Thanks Yumi)

- His headspace is about 2-4 making him pretty close in age to Chie! Chie often gets them wrapped up in mischief— nothing too bad of course! Simple things like whoopie cushions and those things that pop out of cans (I actually can’t think of the name)

- He likes being Yu’s big bro when they’re small together. Yu usually falls around 1-2 in headspace, automatically giving him more attention. Yosuke loves smol Yu but he can’t help but feeling a little jealous sometimes. (Inspo’d by this please go read it mcschnuggles’ works are SO good)

- Yosuke is one of the easier littles to deal with of the Investigation Team. He’s actually a bit more of a low-energy kiddo and would rather watch TV than do something like racing Chie around. Despite this, he really enjoys the park! Somehow, the Investigation Team found a relatively secluded park a few blocks over from Junes that they take the littles to sometimes. He particularly enjoys the slide, always trying to get his friends to watch him go down!

- Yosuke’s big self is clumsy enough as, so his regressed self leaves him even more accident prone. Not to worry as Yu carries around a mini first aid kit! There’s all kinds of pretty colored bandaids he can choose from! Yu always makes sure to kiss the owies away so they can go away faster!

- Yosuke would never admit to being as clingy as he is to Teddie. Teddie’s like a fun older brother when he’s small! He’s the “don’t tell Nao-chan we stayed up late eating ice cream”™️ caregiver. He’s chaotic, very much so, but he can also be pretty responsible with small Yosuke. He can adapt to Yosuke’s moods easily. He’s having a bad day? We will eat Topsicles and go play something! Don’t want to play? That’s fine, we can do something quiet instead!

- Rise sings to the littles all the time and Yosuke, being the music lover he is, enjoys it the most! Also he’s like a huge Risette fan too. Rise has every single Disney song memorized and could probably break out into a Disney medley at the drop of a hat. A little movie night at the Amagi Inn with everyone sounds so fun!!