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esotericfaery · 3 days ago

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No Trash in This Tea - An Inside View of the 4B Movement

For those of you confused by or against 4b +, heres a little Q & A style post from one of us, based on the types of issues we notice people complaining about. The “questions” are paraphrased, and the answers are mine. As always, women get slightly more leeway in responding to this, as they get one chance to politely discuss it with me. Only ally men are welcome to respond without being ignored and deleted.

Q. You’re just a bunch of man-haters.

A. Similar to how there are different types of feminism, we’re not all trying to make all women quit all men. I shouldn’t have to say “all” anything, because nothing that anyone says should be dismissed out of hand as an absolute. But it is what it is. 2024 Gonna 2024. Many of us love the certain men in our lives who have proven to be trustworthy; family members and friends we have known for a long time. This quitting of men is in all romantic & sexual ways, and in some cases when possible, during commerce. So for those of you who think this is some sort of cult which convinces people to leave their family and friends, it isn’t. It’s a perfectly reasonable social movement.

Q. You just need therapy to address trauma, then you will be normal and want a man again. It’s not normal to want to stay single. It’s unhealthy.

A. No, even though some of us declare 4b (or higher) because of physical trauma, some of us don’t. And even if we have had physical trauma, so what? I’m talking especially to you pick-me women who can’t seem to get it through your thick skulls that we’re not a threat to you. In fact, we’re trying to help you understand the way the world really is, because with you continuing on with men, you need to protect yourselves even more than us. This is about being realistic and about being prepared. This is about awareness, not fear.

The implication that trauma having to do with the movement is wrong, is grape culture. Essentially what you’re saying is, that all women should do is address what they experienced and suddenly, magically, men in general will become wonderful unicorns that we can’t possibly resist. You’re trying to reprogram us back into this fake hollyweird trash that a life without romance is empty. I feel compassion for the other people in your lives. Do you not have the same amount (albeit of a different type) of love for your friends and close family? How does it effect you, that we never want to be with a man again? It actually leaves more of them for you.

I’ve deprogrammed myself from all of the trash about romance being better than anything else, which I was infected with through the media, and now I’m not attracted to men at all anymore. The crushes I had on actors have disappeared. I’ve been asked on several dates since, and didn’t even feel tempted, though I recognized visually that both men were good-looking. So logically, yes some women can be celibate. I recently was celibate for 7 years, so I know I can do it again, permanently. Especially with the huge weight off my shoulders when I made the final decision. It’s great to have all of my time for the things I enjoy more than the tedium of dating; school, hobbies, friends.

Q. What about kids? Don’t you want them? Every woman wants kids. You’ll regret it if you don’t have any.

I’d been programmed to think that it’s every woman’s duty to have kids. There was a time where I thought I wanted them. Now I’m glad that I didn’t have them, because even though as my loved ones say I would make a great mother, they take a lot of time and dedication which I’m not willing to give. That doesn’t make me selfish. This is my life and these are my decisions. On top of that, as equally valid is how we’re helping to put a stop to the epidemic of unwanted children, and we’re helping with overpopulation. Why would you even expect someone who doesn’t want kids to have them? This sounds like a projection; do you resent having kids? If so, that’s sad for them. Every child deserves parents who want them.

Q. You’re jealous because you can’t get someone as hot as my man.

A. You have internalized misogyny to address. Rather than attacking women for having been harassed and abused by men, and having chosen to take our lives back for us, look within. And look at your relationship. A woman who is secure in her relationship with a good man (yes, I know good men exist) would not react the way you are.

Q. Why are you 4b?

Because as this is my life, I get to make my own decisions. I don’t have to justify my lifestyle to anyone, but I choose to, with the goal of helping other women to be brave in expressing what they need, regardless of their lifestyle.

Like all women, I’ve been sexually harassed multiple times throughout my life. I’ve dated some men who seemed ok, but we stopped seeing each other due to just not feeling it anymore, or because of philosophical differences. My few long-term relationships involved men who started out seeming as if they were good people, and devolved into gaslighting. I decided that men are not worth the effort. Some of them are worth it for other women, but I identified enough of a pattern to understand the path that’s meant for me.

My toxic trait was staying in those unhealthy dynamics and allowing myself to be abused. So I quit, forgave myself, and have taken my life back for me.

Q. You’re all a bunch of miserable, fat, ugly cat ladies. No one wants you anyway.

I hope that if you were triggered by this, whether or not you’re a woman or a man, that triggering leads to understanding, respect and compassion for all types of people who are not doing anything to hurt others.

I also hope you got the joke of the last “question”. Stay safe, happy, loving and loved.

Love, A 44-year old happily, permanently celibate woman from Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

#4b movement #feminism #no men allowed #celibacy

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bohemian-nights · 2 years ago

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I don’t know if you’re on twitter but the threads D*emyra shippers create on why she should be excluded from the show is😡

Like this one: https://mobile.twitter.com/barbie_comuna/status/1600893822182883333

I don’t know what’s more problematic them talking about racism against the Velaryons and using Rhaena to cyber yo their own racism towards N or creating these threads in general. It’s so telling how it’s incomprehensible for these people that D can be in love with N but him having paternal feelings towards her or sleeping with her without having any feelings towards her be stans of age difference is more acceptable to them.But really that’s how many fandoms see WOC anyway so it’s nothing new this one is like that as well I guess. And ofc Rhaena and the rest of the Velaeyons are the “acceptable type”of black fir them since they don’t affect their white ship in any way and serve them like the good black servants they are despite D/R disrespecting them and treating their kids and Laena’s kids like trash.🙄 Honestly I’m convinced even if D/R weren’t “romantic” (they love to make this excuse that the show making D/R young downhill will doom it imo)people would still be shipping them and/or D with someone of his relatives and would hate the thought of him getting with a non Targaryen.I mean look what’s currently happening with Aemond. The posts that go and on about Alys are very similar to the ones about Nettles.

I’m an old young person so the only social media platforms I use is this and Pinterest. Lol, yeah I’ve seen people post things from twitter and it’s a mess. Dead at them trying to pretend like they actually care about the racism the Black/Blackish characters have faced🙃

Them trying to replace Nettles with Rhaena is just pathetic at this point. It shows that you not only hate Nettles, but you don’t really care about Rhaena like you say you do.

Cause she has her own storyline that is going to play out, but you want her there because you know deep down that Daemon did not see Nettles as his daughter. It makes absolutely 0 sense to swap out Nettles for Rhaena and adds absolutely nothing to the story.

They can tolerate Black/Blackish women characters as long as they aren’t with their faves. Rhaena(and Baela) are fine cause they’re Daemon’s kids therefore they pose no threat to Daemyra(this ship has literally become my most hated ship due to the crazy fans it attracts).

Seeing Black/Blackish women in a more subservient or non-romantic roles is what they are used to. And like you said this happens in a lot of fandoms.

They are already trying to say that Rhaenyra is somehow the love of his life and they’ve got no chemistry so you know that Daemon and Rhaenyra would still be a thing even if it wasn’t canon. Take a look at Aemond and Helaena for reference.

Yeah the treatment of Alys is similar to Nettles. Some Hellman’s fans have linked up with some Dumbnyra stans and have taken to rewriting canon so that their hell ships can live on.

The only thing I can say about the Alys/Aemond situation is that they can’t deny canon like they do with Dumbnyra. Hellman’s is not in the book at all and is 100% made up cause they wanted Aemond to have an incest ship. Rhaena is right there people and it would make more sense, but you know why they don’t ship them 🫠

Bottom line is these shippers can’t stand to see Daemon “leave” their Targaryen queen for Rhaenyra 👸🏼for Nettles 👩🏾🐑🐉, a non-Valyrian(Black woman) character.

So they pretend like all the accounts(literally every account says they were/likely lovers) is not factual somehow. Yet nowhere does it state in the books that Rhaenyra is the love of Daemon’s life. Delusional I tell you.

Anyway for me it’s gonna be Nettles 👩🏾🐑🐉 and Alys Rivers 👩🏻 supremacy from here on out. I’m going to watch the break downs from salty (non canon compliant) shippers like this when we see them getting their men on screen

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myewten · 2 years ago

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Walwal

- a Tagalog term that describes getting absolutely shit face drunk

Enhypen hyung line reaction to seeing you ride a mechanical bull

: alcohol, this literally just sexual tension and mentions of male masturbation, exhibitionism??

A/N : I've been itching to write this idea when I saw this vid on porn hub and here now here we are

No proofreading, I die like a man

Comment or send an ask if you have ideas and to be tagged in future parts!!

You had just broken up with your now ex boyfriend Nicholas. You weren't really that hung up about but it did present you with very good excuse to finally live the college life that was portrayed in movies and not just the endless torture that you were experiencing.

you: are we still on for Saturday??

Rina: yeah, meet at chae's?

Gaeul: 9pm?

Chaewon: yeah and wear something slutty y/nie😛

Ryujin: wanna borrow some of my clothes?

you: can I get a please before you treat me like a common whore? I mean I'll do it but still 😀

Saturday came faster than expected that you didn't realize you were already getting pushed into chaewon's bathroom to get dressed in a black and white lacy camisole dress that honestly looked like it belonged on a Victoria's secret mannequin. You take a look at yourself in the mirror and get stunned at how hot you looked even though the dress was out of your comfort zone. The dress accentuated all the right places and showed a lot of cleavage in addition to its short length. 'nothing a cardigan can't fix, could use a necklace though'

You walk out the bathroom and immediately hear the wolf wistles of ryujin and the flirty comments of Karina.

"You sure you ain't into girls?"

"I'll tell winter you said that to me."

"HEY—"

"Bitches it's almost 11 and we aren't even ready yet so chop chop."

After chaewon's instructions you and the girls finished getting ready before pre-gaming with some of chaewon's mom's pink gin to fully prepare yourselves for the night that was to come.

Heeseung was casually taking a sip of some Tanduay ice and looking around the roudy old western style club as he wasn't planning on getting drunk. Automatically getting assigned as the designated driver being the eldest and the only one out of the five roommates that actually had a car. Jay was beside and was slightly tipsy but sober enough to hold a decent conversation with strangers that he randomly talked to. Jake and sunhoon however...for lack of better words are completely trashed.

Jake was currently on the dancefloor dancing with girls he didn't even get a fuck about. They weren't you but they'll do for the moment. Sunghoon however was currently making out with a girl he met 30 minutes ago by the men's restroom which happens to be near the mechanical bull that was an attraction of the night club.

The four had decided to go out and get drunk in order to cope with the stress of finals and their mutual unrequited feelings towards you that they all accidentally found about. They had their own ways to cope that you would never look at them the way that they looked at you. The four had thought that without the presence of your boyfriend you might finally pick up the very obvious signs that they like you sexually and romantically for some.

But to their dismay, you had proudly announced your plan for the next couple months.

"fuck men and their commitment issues, only good thing about them are their dicks"

You didn't explicitly say it but that statement basically translates to "I'm not yet ready for a relationship so I'll just fuck around"

That then leads us to the present where your group finally entered the infamous night club and went straight to the v.i.p area that gaeul had acces to due to her older brother being a manager here. A round of shots was passed around before ryujin pulled you to the dance floor along with Karina. You felt your body let loose and get lost in the music. You were beginning to think that you were wrong when you said that the one party scene in euphoria was unrealistic now that you were kind of in a similar situation.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn't notice that your four roommates were also in the vicinity.

'so this was her "having a sleepover at chae's".'

'you really won't leave our minds alone, huh'

'why does this chick's breath smell like garlic— WAIT IS THAT Y/N!'

'i should fuck her in that dress'

You see gaeul and chaewon make their way through the crowd towards the three of you. "Having a bit too much fun without us now are we?"

Letting out a drunk giggle, you drag them to dance. You see in your peripheral vision some people leaving the dancefloor to go to a more lit up corner of the club. You of course, get curious and check it out only to find out it was the mechanical bull that this place was famous for. You normally would've just watched the scene as various people were getting thrown off the machine but drunk you had different plans.

"HEY CHAE WASH ME RIDE THIS BISTCH!~" were you going to regret this tomorrow when you wake up not only with a hangover but also with bruises? Yes. But it looked like fun and it wasn't like you weren't used to riding stuff all the time.

This also happen to catch the attention of the four boys that have been secretly keeping an eye on you through the crowds.

Before the responsible ones can stop you, you were already lining up for your turn. You fail to realize that what you're currently wearing would surely expose your underwear due to the position that you'll be put on but whatevs is all you can say to the sliver of your sober self.

And before you know it you were being given a pink cowboy hat and guided in the little arena where the sleeping bull lays. The worker that you also deemed quite cute lifted you by your waist onto the bull, whispering a quick 'good luck, pretty' that was caught by the watchful gaze of heeseung.

You heard a certain song start to play and it was like you were possessed by the soul of Nicole Scherzinger. The bull started to move and so did your hips. You weren't just riding a bull, you were riding it. It was a scene straight out of an early 2000's music video. You felt everyone's eyes on you and for once it actually felt good. So good that you didn't realize your dress had ridden up to show your ass and white lacy underwear. The song eventually came to an end with the bull slowing down and making your friends cheer you on for a successful ride.

The four men stood there stunned at your performance, all with matching uncomfortableness in their pants. Jake didn't think of himself as a pervert but what else was he supposed to think about when his crush just did that. Sunghoon was no better either, praying to God for forgiveness because of all the thoughts that ran through his mind on what he wanted to do to you.

Jay and Heeseung however, had a different approach. They shared a glance at each other, understanding without saying anything that you were too drunk and needed to go home before you do something like that again. Of course they cared about your safety but they also couldn't stand the thought of other people looking at you the way that they did. You were too hot for your own good and that made the two immediately sober up.

You finally see the two of them when they approached your table. "𝐇𝚎𝕖! ᴊ𝒶ʸ! ᴡ𝒶𝒕𝒄ᕼ𝙪 𝘥𝗈Ⓘ︎ⁿ 𝖍ǝ🅡︎𝘦~"

You were definitely shit faced after not having drank for a long time as you can see.

"it's good that you guys are here, I was about to call for an Uber anyways."

"we can just drive you guys since I brought my car with me and I haven't drank much—"

"we won't fit in a sedan cause I'm assuming you're with the other simps, I'll take Karina and Gaeul with me and you can drop off Ryujin since her building's close to you"

You get passed off like a sack of potatoes to jay's arms by Karina which you drunkenly complain about. Ryujin was in a bit of better shape than you but was currently ranting about politics to heeseung who politely nodded along while trying to contact sunhoon and Jake to meet at the parking lot.

When you got there with the help of the sturdy arms of Jay you see two figures waiting by the car and immediately recognize it as you favorite and least favorite roommates.

"𝘑ᗩⓀ︎ᵉᵉᵉ𝔂~" you immediately ran to the man while laughing at Sunghoon's face just because it's Sunghoon.

"Come on let's get in, you might freeze to death with what you're wearing." You all follow Heeseung's command and ryujin gets in the from seat as she was getting off first. That left the four of you to squeeze in the back seat of the civic. "Just sit on my lap so we aren't so cramped."

You mindlessly follow Sunghoon's order but sit on Jay's lap instead since he was in the middle and hand the most leg room for you. This left hoon slightly disappointed but that soon turned into irritation when he saw Jay's smug face at the corner of his eyes. However Jay's smile soon faded when you wiggled around to get comfortable on his lap and leaning back so you were flush against his chest. Okay, so you may or may not be that drunk and using this situation to test out the waters between you and your roommates but that details aren't important. Not when you feel jay's rapid heartbeat against your back and his growing erection against your barely covered ass.

This led you to not realize that you were already at Ryujin's street. "Jake switch to the front once Ryujin gets off so you guys are more comfortable back there"

It was a heroic sacrifice in the eyes of Sunghoon, a sacrifice that will finally get you off of his friend's lap and calm his jealous ego. Jake however was slightly disappointed but felt it was worth it, just for you and Jay to finally separate and not make him suffer anymore. Once Ryujin got off with Jake getting out the door and making sure she got inside her building safely, the four of you began your journey to your lovely home.

The only sound that you can hear inside of the car was the sound of the road and the car itself since everyone forgot to turn on the radio and it would be too awkward to ask for the aux when you guys are already five minutes away. You see your building and let out a light sigh of relief because you were starting to feel the adrenaline wear out of your system after your stunt with Jay.

'Another late night "shower" for me then'

You guys finally reach your flat with Jake accompanying you in case you trip despite having drank a lot himself. He still insisted to make sure you get to shower first and drank some water before he lead you to your room once you were already in your pajamas and fresh out the shower.

But you were stopped when you heard him call your name in a tone that you can't describe. You turn your body to face him and slightly tilt your head to ask why he called for you.

He suddenly got close to your face to look into your eyes but stopped when he saw the look of panic that washed through your face. He then smirked and got close to your right ear before whispering something that will definitely be in your wet dreams for the next week or so "thank you for the show, sweetheart."

taglist: @parkhonnie @lix-freckle3 @yoswagmuffin @mxlkywxy05 @muffinminnie @enhasengene @heeyounext @arizejkt19 @nshmrys @happyasakura @wonsieur @zerasari

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung #jake #jay #sunghoon #enhypen x female reader

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thefeedress · 4 years ago

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FFA MUSINGS

I was 17 when I learned the terms "feeder" "feedee" and "feederism" from stumbling across one of those trash documentaries about the kink. Apparently, my sexuality revolved around extremes and predators: creepy straight men coercing naive women into transforming their bodies and their lives - the women didn't particularly seem to be getting off on it or even have much agency in the whole thing. The men were awful. (Sometimes, these days, I look back and wonder how much all the negatives of what I saw were exaggerated by the editing…)

That was my lightbulb moment, where I discovered the label for something very personal and private that I'd had all my life but always felt confused and ashamed about. I now also had the pleasure of feeling extra disgusting and very alone, having been shown what horrible company I was in, and that I now knew I was a feeder, but apparently all feeders were men.

Any furtive investigations online (in the reasonably early days of the internet) seem to confirm this suspicion: female feeders were not A Thing, there might possibly be one or two others out there at best. Male gainers only seemed to exist in their own niche in gay subculture, and although I was happy they were out there somewhere living their best lives, they were obviously Not For Me.

I was 34 when after years of pushing it all to the back of my mind, I finally gave in. I've been with the same (non-feedist) partner since my early 20s, so I just assumed that I'd never be able to explore it irl anyway, and that was that. I can't remember what happened or why I decided that I had to try to find some others to connect with, even just to chat with, but in the end (with my partner's blessing) I found and joined Feabie (of which I have many opinions but I'll leave those for another time…) and interacted with other feedists online for the first time in my life.

Guess what: straight male feedees exist. They exist, and there's fucking loads of them!! Tons of the buggers in my inbox all day every day for weeks. Pretty heady experience going from outcast freak to Much Sought After Item - apparently female feeders really are quite rare, or we don't have much of an online presence (or most of us are lurking in a secret lair somewhere that the others haven't invited me to, rude….) or they're also out there somewhere thinking they're the only one.

The unbridled glee of feeling popular and desirable for being something I'd always felt ashamed of did wear off a teensy bit after the endless onslaught of "hey" "hi" "how u" "ayy babygurl" "I'm looking for a feeder please accommodate all my kinks even though I'm a total stranger and I clearly don't give a shit about you as a human being" "You're a woman on the internet I'm entitled to your attention don't be difficult what's your problem" and my current favourite, the bizarrely ominous "Can I ask ur opinion?" (The answer is no my friend, if I wanted to be spammed with anonymous torso pics that I'm meant to manufacture comments about that you can get off to I'd have asked YOU.)

But. I'm still completely overjoyed that male feedees exist, that I've spoken to so many cool and interesting and lovely guys, that I've had experiences I'd always assumed I wouldn't, that I FINALLY MET OTHER FFAs and they are awesome and now I'm close friends with one and it's freaking GREAT. All of this has also lead my partner and I to discover polyamory and now I'm in love with two people who love me back NOBODY EVER SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED TO DO THAT WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME

There are so many nuances and preferences I'd never considered. I knew what I liked and that's what I sought out in terms of porn and that was that. Actually talking to feedees and learning about the whole spectrum of things they each did or didn't enjoy or want to participate in was a revelation, and also helped me clarify my own preferences myself.

There are still things I've yet to come to terms with or decide how to feel about. The main things I'd always felt guilty or ashamed of were less to do with fat or fat guys, it was the feeding itself.

Where being an FFA is concerned - I like to think that if I'd ever been lucky enough to have a fat boyfriend when I was younger, I wouldn't have been shallow enough to care what anyone else thought. It's possible I'm giving my younger self too much credit; I know for certain that some people in my life would have made nasty comments, I was also hugely insecure myself, and I have no idea what it really would have been like. I have no doubt that living all my life in a fatphobic society has affected me in more ways than I'm even aware of (same as everyone else in some way, I'm guessing....). I think any uneasiness I felt there was less worrying about shallow friends or family members, and more how to find potential fat partners without offending them. I have always been conscious of the fact that the majority of fat people would very likely be horrified to be thought of and objectified through the lens of this fetish. You never know what someone's relationship to their own body is, but it's safe to bet that it's a more complex one than it seems, and also, unless you're expressly invited into that relationship by that person, it's none of your fucking business.

But anyway, the main reason I never had many hangups about it was that I don't think I even *was* attracted to fat people when I was young - sometimes I'm not sure I was even attracted to anyone. I had crushes on boys all the time, but I never thought of anyone sexually. My teenage fantasies were pure belly kink: stuffing, chugging, bloating, inflation, any kind of ridiculous fantasy belly expansion - the actual fattening aspect of feeding was less a part of it, and fancying fat dudes was never connected to it. By the time I'd begun to join the dots and wonder if I liked fat boys, I'd started to happen across media that portrays the worst of Feedism, and since I liked sadistic fucked up stuff and already felt ashamed of it, all of that just confirmed to me that I was right to hate myself. Even now, when I'm exposed to much more conversation about this kink than I ever used to be, I notice a lot of love for soft feedism, wholesome fatness appreciation, body positivity, romance (all of which I absolutely love, don't get me wrong) and I still sometimes feel Iike I'm being left out of the party. Keeping my fingers crossed for more consensual femdom-feedism love (and content, ugh…)

But… what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the fuck over myself and put myself out there, tried to find others? How many other young people see themselves portrayed horribly in the media and hide parts of themselves FROM THEMSELVES forever? What happens next? I've apparently found the one person who likes all the same twisted things I do, but actually getting to see him irl ever or do any of the things we want to do seems impossible, and not just because of Covid.

This fetish is lonely for most of us I think, in some way or another. There aren't many feedists, there don't seem to be as many female feeders or male feedees, there probably aren't many people who will share the same preferences within the fetish that you do, and frankly when you filter out the people who aren't crazy or creepy or don't know how to hold a conversation, the pool shrinks even further. I've seen plenty of posts bemoaning how hard it is to find someone, but seriously, having spent most of my life in a vacuum where this stuff is concerned, I'm still buzzing from having engaged with the small handful of people I've engaged with, even just to chat to.

What I want to say to my younger self is: you're a good person. You're just a kinky bitch, that's all.

I feel like this description probably applies to all the best people, I can live with that.

#feedisim #feedist #female feeder #female fat admirer #male feedee #ffa #bhm

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

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In These Walls

Colson finally writes a song about you, years after your whirlwind relationship. You come to his house to confront him, only to relive your favorite memories.

Request: “Hi, i was wondering if you could possibly write something about the background for "in these walls" song. Like it's a wrong time right person situation. Maybe like they split up and get together multiple times knowing that it's true love. And in the end after hearing the song reader leaves him for good and wishes him to be happy? But you could change any part of it, it just would be really nice to have a back story for this song.”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Adult content (It’s not full blown smut but it’s there), substance abuse, cursing, angst

A/N: I changed this request just a little bit, I hope you don’t mind. It’s the same concept it just ends a little differently. I had to take a little artistic liberty with the lyrics since some (a lot) of them were pretty ambiguous, but this is just my interpretation of the song.

A/N part 2: I really fucking loved writing this. I absolutely love this song and literally wrote like multiple plots for this. Also I was gonna keep it as the original ending but I had to do what I did (you’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 4897

Listen to the In These Walls

masterlist

You parked your car on the side of the street, taking in the all too familiar house in front of you. As you walked up to the door, you could already hear the party in full swing. For a second your heart fell, just a little. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed his parties.

Your hand grasps the handle to the front door, opening into the once familiar entryway hall, where the two of you had first met.

You walked up to the door with Ashleigh, trailing slightly behind her. “Don’t worry Y/N, they’ll love you. They have to.”

You chuckled, “You know me, Ash. These kinds of parties just aren’t my thing. I’m much better at working with rock stars than partying with them.”

Ashleigh rolled her eyes, opening the door. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You walked into the house, eyes wandering over the high ceilings and pristine decorations. You were slightly surprised that someone as infamous as Machine Gun Kelly had a place as clean as this.

“Kells! Slim!” Ashleigh called to two men, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes landed to where her attention was focused, meeting the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen. He walked over to you and Ashleigh, his friend following behind.

“Hey Ashleigh, this must be the new assistant you’ve been talking about.” The blue-eyed boy greeted your friend and boss, his eyes still focused on you. “I’m Kells, but you can call me MGK, Colson, whatever you like.”

You smiled, maintaining eye contact, “Nice to meet you Colson, I’m Y/N”

Your eyes traveled the house, just as they had that first day, landing on one of the jackets hung up by the door. You chuckled to yourself. Two and a half years later and he still had the same leather jacket that he had once so carelessly thrown on the floor of your hotel room.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Your head rolled back, giving Colson better access to your neck. Your hands made their way to his hair, running your fingers through his locks.

Colson’s teeth nipped at your neck, ripping a small whine from your lips. Colson smiled against your skin, mumbling, “Why shouldn’t we?” His hands reached for your shirt, pulling it over your head, and returning his lips to your exposed skin.

You suppressed your moans as best as you could as he moved lower, his lips sucking at your nipples. “I mean, technically you’re my boss.” Your hands pulled on his hair as he nibbled on the sensitive bud. “And if Ash found out she’d fire me on the spot.”

His mouth moved lower, pressing sloppy kisses to your stomach. “Then we just don’t let her find out.” He smirked, unbuttoning your jeans, and pulling them down your legs, smiling at your lacy light pink panties.

Your eyes dropped to the floor as you recalled that night, the night everything changed. The night you had fallen head over heels in love with the man in the leather jacket.

You laughed at the memory. Hindsight really is 20/20.

You stepped further into the house, nostalgia hitting you at every corner. As the extent of the party came into your vision, you spotted Dre in the middle of the floor, dancing with a bottle of Jameson in his hand, no care in the world.

The party on the tour bus was in full swing when you and Ashleigh finally got on. Dre and Irv were in the middle of the floor, dancing and jumping with a group of girls around them. Rook and Slim were in the middle of a drinking competition, with Baze judging.

You looked around the room as inconspicuously as possible, searching for the man whose arms you had woken up in that morning. Your eyes met his as Ashleigh handed you a cup with who knows what in it, but you were too distracted to thank her.

Colson was sitting on one of the couches, a girl on his lap and a drink in his hand. His free hand was wrapped around her waist as she whispered something in his ear, pressing a kiss to his neck. His eyes, however, were trained on you.

Against your better judgement, you downed whatever was in the cup, feeling the burn of the alcohol in your throat. You met Colson’s eyes again, a smirk on his face.

You walked over to Ashleigh, grabbing another drink. “What’s gotten into you?” She laughed. “You never drink.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding the real reason you were eager to get drunk. “It’s our night off, right?” You laughed, raising your cup before drinking it.

You stayed on the outskirts of the crowd, trying to find the blue-eyed boy that you came to see. Your heart was racing as you leaned against the wall, suddenly anxious about what you were here to do.

As you searched the crowd, you saw Rook sandwiched between two girls in typical Rook fashion.

“Hey Kells, have you noticed something going on with Y/N?” The shorter boy got his friend alone, concern in his eyes.

Colson shrugged, unbothered. “Not really, why?”

“I dunno man, she used to never drink or smoke or any of that shit. Now I don’t think she’s been fully sober for like a week.”

Colson knew what was going on, but he couldn’t exactly tell Rook about it, Rook liked you too much for that. “I haven’t noticed anything. Maybe she’s just getting more comfortable with us. She’s probably fine.” He fed his friend lies, hiding the fact that you were trying to impress him.

To your benefit, it was working. Colson found you much more attractive when you weren’t so strung up all the time, and he made sure to tell you that every night when you were under him.

Rook sighed, “I mean, maybe. She just never seemed like this type.”

You hadn’t been to a party like this in months. After everything that had happened, you’d been trying to get clean. You’d been officially sober for 15 months.

Realizing that Colson was probably outside or preoccupied with someone else, you made your way to the bathroom further in the house, the one no one really knew about or bothered to use.

You’d been rushing around for the last few hours making sure everything was ready to go and as soon as you thought you could relax, Colson disappeared.

You were about to get onto the tour bus when Slim told you. You sighed in frustration, realizing you would have to find the man before anyone could leave.

You made your way through the venue and towards the greenroom that the boys had trashed earlier that night. You walked across the room towards the dressing room door, seeing as Colson wasn’t in the room.

You had been in the dressing room with Colson dozens of times, you never felt the need to knock. No one did. So, you thought when you walked in, you’d find him changing or packing his things up. Instead, you found him in a much more… compromising position.

The girl was on the counter, head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure. Colson’s head was buried in her neck as he slammed into her. When he heard the door open, his head shot up, your eyes connecting. In that moment, all of the feelings you had for him left your body.

“Everyone’s on the tour bus and waiting for you so we can leave. Join us whenever you’re ready.” Your voice and expression were emotionless.

“Y/N wait.” Colson called as you turned and walked out the door. “Fuck.” He grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and rushing after you. His hand grabbed your arm, stopping you and turning you towards him. “Y/N please, it’s not-“

“What it looks like? Funny.” You shook your arm from his grasp.

“Don’t get all mad about this.” Colson pleaded.

“Why shouldn’t I get mad about this Colson? We’ve been sleeping together every night for what, three weeks now? How many other girls have you had between then and now?” You kept your voice even, not showing how much you were hurting inside.

Colson rolled his eyes, “C’mon Y/N, you know that shit wasn’t serious.”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. “Yeah, of course it wasn’t serious for you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to people?” Your voice finally raised, “You make people feel so special for a little while, and then just when they think they have something real with you, you take it all away from them.”

Colson stood there, stunned. He wasn’t expecting you to be this upset. You continued, “And I knew when I met you that this would happen, I knew this was the kind of person you were. I guess I got so caught up in you I didn’t realize how stupid I was being.”

You studied Colson’s face, searching for any sign of a feeling in him. “This is ridiculous. I’m fucking ridiculous. I can’t believe I ever thought you and I would work out.” You let out a bitter laugh. “I told myself that even if it took forever, that me and you would be together, but I guess you didn’t feel the same way.”

The bathroom was clean, like most of the rest of the house. It was ironic, you would think that a band of boys would have a house that looked trashed, but these boys seemed to like the clean.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror, hands resting on the counter in front of you. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves. “You can do this, it’s just Colson.”

“You can do this, it’s just Colson.” You told yourself, looking at his contact in your phone. You’d run out of options at this point. You were desperate.

You clicked the call button, hearing the phone ring before the familiar voice picked up. “Y/N?”

“Hey Colson, it’s me. I-uh- I hate to do this but I really don’t have anyone else to call.” Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you collected your thoughts. “My roommates kicked me out and I don’t have anywhere to go. I know we didn’t end on the best note, but I’m desperate.”

“You can stay over here.” He didn’t question you, didn’t even hesitate.

“Thank you.” You sighed, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You made your way back through the house, hoping Colson would have rejoined the party-his party- by now. On your way you stopped at the door that had become all too familiar for you. Your door.

You took a deep breath, reaching out and turning the handle, pushing the door open. He hadn’t changed anything in two years. The same orange comforter covered the mattress, the same decorations hung from the walls. The only thing he had changed was the lamp, which you two had broken during your time here.

“Any luck?” Colson asked, pushing the door open.

You sighed, pushing your laptop away from you. “No.” You frowned. “No one is looking for a roommate and no one is renting anything within my budget.”

Colson sat on your bed, a sympathetic expression on his face. “You can stay here as long as you need. But if you need help looking, I’m always willing to help.”

“Thanks Cols.”

Over the last week that you’d spent at his place, things seemed to get better between you two. The feelings you once harbored for him seemed to have disappeared, and now you were content with being friends.

“Of course.” He smiled, his hand reaching out and rubbing your thigh.

Ok, your feelings for him were gone, but even you had to admit he’s the best guy you’ve ever been with.

“If you need anything, I’m here.” His smile was very suggestive, as was the emphasis he put on “anything.”

You leaned towards him, face very close to his. “Anything?” You whispered seductively, a smile spreading on your face.

“Anything.”

All it took was his voice and the look in his eyes for you to connect your lips. His were so familiar to you yet seemed like a distant memory.

He moved your laptop off the bed, climbing over you, his knees on either side of you. Your bodies moved in perfect sync with each other, both needing the other’s.

And that was the start of the best 6 months of your life.

You leave the room, a shiver running up your spine at all the memories Colson and you made in there with the lights off. You start making your way to the kitchen, deciding to move around the crowd and sneak through the hallway, passing the open garage door, where more partygoers were dancing around Colson’s purple Aston Martin.

The breeze flew through your hair as you flew down the street, a joint in your hand.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” You looked over at Colson, a smile on his face.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a hit and blowing the smoke in his face. “A surprise at 2 in the morning?”

He chuckled, glancing over at you. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d rather be doing?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Well maybe we can try some of your ideas when we get there.” He smirked and you laughed reaching your hand out the window.

Your plan didn’t work as well as you thought, as the entryway to the kitchen was just as crowded as the one closest to the living room. You squeezed your way through, trying to find someone you knew who could tell you where to find Colson.

The club was dark and smoky. You had been drinking with Colson for about an hour when you made your way to the dance floor, stumbling over your shoes and shooting Colson a smile. You had asked him to dance with you, but he insisted he was fine watching you.

You used to hate the feeling of so many people so close to you, but since touring with Colson you’d grown accustomed to it. You didn’t like the feeling of foreign hands around your waist, however.

You knew they weren’t Colson’s, his hands were gentle, these were rough, gripping your hips too tight. You reached down, trying to push them off of you, turning around to face the stranger.

“Hi beautiful.” The guy was a few years older than you and he smelled overwhelmingly of alcohol.

“I’m not interested.” You smiled kindly, stumbling away from him. His hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back to him. With the high alcohol content in your blood, you couldn’t muster up the strength to push him off.

“You’re just gonna walk away from a man like that? I said hi beautiful.” The man’s grip was harsh, and you winced as it tightened.

“And she said she wasn’t interested.” Your chest lightened when you heard Colson’s voice.

The man looked up at Colson, realization hitting him. He let you go, raising his hands up in surrender. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girl. Maybe if she wouldn’t dance like such a slut, I wouldn’t have thought she was single.”

Colson took a step towards the stranger, pushing you behind him. “Excuse me?” He questioned, head tilting.

“Your bitch was the one dancing like sh-“ He was cut off by Colson’s fist connecting with his jaw, sending him to the floor.

“Colson!” You squealed, stepping backwards.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that, or any other girl for that matter. Motherfucker.” Colson moved away from the man, turning to you, and taking you in his arms.

“You didn’t need to do that.” You said softly, wrapping your arms around him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I just couldn’t stand to hear him talk about you like that. Needed to teach him a lesson.” You nodded into his chest before backing away and taking his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here.” You led him out of the club before security had the chance to throw him out.

As you made your way through the crowd you caught a short glimpse of a familiar red jacket.

“Cols?” You questioned, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror, his red jacket wrapped around your naked body. The man you’d been sleeping with for the past 5 months hummed in response, glancing over at you with a smirk on his face. “Why haven’t you ever written a song about me?”

You thought it was an innocent question. Even though you wouldn’t consider what you were doing a “relationship,” you two had been through enough shit together to warrant a song about it.

“Do you want me to write a song about you?” He questioned, his eyebrow raising.

You shrugged, looking away from the mirror and walking towards his place on the bed. “I just figured; you’ve written so many songs. None of them have been about me.”

He smiled, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. “I can work on something.” He bit his lip, taking in the view of you on top of him.

You pushed through the crowd, trying to find the jacket again. After pushing through too many drunk rappers than you should ever have to, you saw him. He looked different from the last time you saw him, but he was still Colson.

“Babe,” Colson’s head was propped up by his elbow on the bed so he could face you. You looked over at him, your face still glowing from your last high. Colson took you in, the way your hair fell on the pillow, the way your makeup was slightly smudged, the way the light hit you just right, making you look like an angel.

“I love you.”

You froze at those three words, your breath catching in your throat. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out when you guys went from friends with benefits to this and you couldn’t find one. You thought you were just having fun; you didn’t realize how serious things had gotten for him.

“Don’t say that, Colson.” You whispered, your mind traveling back to the night in the greenroom, when you swore you’d never let yourself be so vulnerable in front of him again.

“What?” His face scrunched in confusion as you sat up, bringing the sheet up to cover your chest. “I mean it.”

“Well then don’t mean it.” You said, climbing out of the bed and pulling your red panties up your legs, throwing your shirt on.

Colson sat up, watching you with sad eyes. “What are you doing?”

You sighed, turning to face him. “I’m sorry, Colson. I thou- I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t realize you felt.” You paused, taking a deep breath, and choosing your words. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”

His face turned to hurt, almost anger. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing for the last six months, Y/N?’

You bit your cheek, trying to keep a clear head. “I’m sorry Cols, I didn’t mean to lead you on I just didn’t realize what we were doing was that serious.”

“Are you serious Y/N? You think I just let all the girls I’m hooking up with stay at my house for six months? Do you think I go on drives to the middle of nowhere at 2 am for just anyone?”

“I don’t know,” You were trying to suppress the tears that were pricking your eyes as you realized that all the signs had been in front of you, and you had ignored every one of them. You had led him on worse than you’d ever thought possible. “I’m sorry, Colson, really. I don’t-“ Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less a coherent sentence.

Colson had brought his hands up to his face, palms pressed against his temples. “God I’m so fucking stupid.” He mumbled to himself. “You know I didn’t sleep with anyone else after what happened in the greenroom? I couldn’t think about anyone but you. Y/N I would give up everyone- hell, I did give up everyone- for you. No one matters to me but you.”

It was like he was pleading with you at this point, begging you to love him back. The breaks in his voice and his sniffles told you he was crying, but you couldn’t feel anything. The world around you had gone numb, and it was all you could do to grab the rest of your clothes and walk out of the room.

“I have to go.” You whispered, wiping your tears, and looking at him one more time.

The last time you had seen the man in front of you, he was absolutely shattered. Now, looking at him, he seemed happy. You admired him as he laughed at something someone said, taking in the shape of his jawline that once was home to a number of your hickeys.

As if he could feel you looking at him, he turned his head, his eyes connecting with yours immediately.

It wasn’t until months later that you sorted out your thoughts. For a while you had pushed down all the memories and feelings you had about the situation, but after 3 months passed you realized how unhealthy it was.

You were spiraling, your memories being replaced with alcohol and drugs. It wasn’t until you were lying on the floor of your tiny apartment and wondering where you were that you realized just how bad you’d gotten.

You checked yourself into rehab a week later, getting help for your addictions and your mangled thoughts. You were finally able to understand your emotions and why you left.

It was two months later that you realized you had loved him too.

Colson’s happy demeaner sunk completely when he saw you, the gleam in his eyes disappearing.

“C’mon man, you can’t stay in there forever.” Slim knocked on the door, jiggling the locked handle.

Colson sat on the floor in your bedroom, a match in one hand and a cigar hanging from his lips. His eyes were red and puffy, his throat raw.

The first 2 months without you were the worst. He hadn’t realized he could feel so strongly about someone, and as soon as he came to terms with his feelings you left him. He finally started to pick himself up, but he could never let you go.

He tried to move on, he really did, but no one made him feel like you. And the way things ended between you didn’t leave any room for resolution.

He lit the match, lighting the cigar in his mouth. He inhaled the smoke, letting the flame burn itself out in his hand until he was left in the darkness.

You nodded your head towards the front door, asking him to meet you outside without words. He nodded, putting on a fake smile to say goodbye to the people he’d been talking to.

It was dark outside, so you stood under the streetlight outside his house. You dug your hands into your jacket pockets, biting your lip. Images of him flashed through your head as you waited for him. When he finally came out of the door, you sent him a small, sad smile.

“Hey.” You tried your best to not be awkward, but there wasn’t much you could do.

“Hey.” His eyes raked over you, taking in the changes two years had made on you. You had done the same thing, so you couldn’t complain.

“I heard your song.” Your voice was softer than you wanted it to be. You wanted to be strong but standing in front of him brought back all of the feelings you’d been trying to overcome. He nodded, looking down. “It’s really good.”

“Thanks.” His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, and you couldn’t blame him.

“Listen Colson,” You took a breath, “I’m not here to try and get you back or anything. I just couldn’t stand to have all that shit out in the world and not resolve it.”

He nodded again, still looking at the floor. “Yeah, yeah I get that.”

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered. “I missed you as soon as I left.” You were hoping for any sign of acknowledgement from him, but you got nothing from him. “I got pretty bad after I left. I started doing all this shit to try and forget about all the shit I put you through, and I had to go to rehab. I got clean, I got help with all of it. And I realized you deserve so much better than me.” You felt tears forming in your eyes.

“That’s why I never.” You had to pause, leveling your voice. “That’s why I never came back.”

He bit his cheek, finally looking up to you. “And I know that not everything was my fault. We both made mistakes but after hearing your song I couldn’t just not tell you that.”

“I, uh, I shouldn’t have released that song. I didn’t mean to hurt you with it or anything.” You shook your head.

“You didn’t hurt me. I mean, it sucked to have that be the song you wrote about me, but it was honest. I think I would’ve been more hurt if you wrote me something dishonest.”

He smiled softly at you, “I mean, it wasn’t completely honest. I definitely didn’t write about all the shit I put you through.” You let out a soft breath, almost like a laugh. “I was an asshole when we first met. You didn’t deserve that shit. You deserve someone who’s gonna treat you right and not try to change you into someone you’re not.”

You smiled at him, a real smile. You went to thank him when he spoke again, “And I just wanna say that I really did love you, and I still do. I think I always will, at least a part of me. But I know it’s never gonna work out, I’ve accepted that. With all our history, it’d just be too toxic. For both of us.”

You nodded, “I love you too. I didn’t realize it until so much later, but I loved you then and I love you now.” You let out a breath. “But I agree, like I said I just wanted to lay this part of my life to rest. Finish it once and for all.”

Colson nodded. “Goodbye Y/N.”

You leaned off the streetlamp, “Goodbye Colson. I hope you find happiness; you deserve it.”

Watching you walk away for the third time, knowing it would be the last time, just didn’t feel right. The battle between his head and his heart was intense, but he knew if he didn’t chase after you now, like he should have all those times before, he would never get another chance.

“Y/N, wait!” He jogged to meet you at your car, grabbing your waist as you turned to face him. Without thinking, he pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t hungry, or needy, or angry. It was sweet, and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You didn’t realize just how familiar his lips would feel, even after 2 years. It felt like coming home. When he pulled away, you looked up at him through confused eyes.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hand still on your hip, the other reaching up to touch your cheek. “I’ve watched you walk away from me too many times to let you do it again.” You smiled softly, biting your lip out of nerves. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ever gonna love anyone else but you, and I can’t lose you, not now that I’ve got the opportunity to get you back.”

You turn your head towards his hand, pressing a small kiss to his palm. Looking into his eyes you saw a different Colson than the boy you knew two years ago. He was still Colson, but he was older, more mature, and so were you. He wasn’t pleading with you, he wasn’t begging you to stay. He was asking if you would. And in that moment you realized just how much you wanted to.

You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” Your voice was a whisper, the words you said were only for you two to hear. You opened your eyes, staring into his as you continued. “And if you still want me, I’d really like to start over with you.”

Colson smiled, his forehead pressing against you as he nodded. You giggled, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’ve always loved hearing you laugh.” He whispered. You pulled him closer to you, capturing his lips in yours and tangling your hands in his hair.

When you finally let him go, you reached up to wipe your lipstick off the corner of his lips, resting your hand on his face and trying to convince yourself this was real. “You wanna come inside?” He whispered, head leaning into your hand.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #in these walls

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

Text

higher - kth | m

all that matters to me girl, win or lose, is an x-rated complete swirl of me and you. so if you want to see the show, just come with me baby, i will show you how i roll - insurance?, the higher

↳ summary- a chance meeting with a handsome stranger in the airport leads to a very exciting flight.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, pwp, the plot is basically one whole sentence

↳ warnings- public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, dirty talk, cum play, unprotected sex (fiction isnt rl life, wrap it up pals), sex in an airport and a plane whoops, sex with stranger

↳ a/n- hi folks! this fic has been in my trash basically because i wasnt sure i liked it too much! but i was convinced by a few friends to post it. i surely hope you enjoy this little to no plot LMFAO. pls feel free to message, comment, dm me, carrier pigeon, etc etc. i LOVE YOU.

“Wow, you’re cute,” a voice calls to you through the crowded airport.

You lower your book down to gaze at where the voice came from, an eyebrow arched in confusion. An airport was an odd place to be hit on.

The voice came from the man across from you, sitting in the black plastic leather seat of the waiting area for your gate. He waves his hand a little as if to take ownership for the compliment.

“Oh, uhhh,” you bite your lip. “Thank you?”

He smiles. It’s beautiful. You’re struck by the gleaming white teeth and boxy smile.

“Are you heading to Los Angeles too?” He leans forward, wanting to get closer to you.

You lay your book down on your lap and nod. “Yeah, I am. Visiting.”

The boy wouldn’t stop grinning. He was ethereal in beauty. Cover of a magazine star quality. Shaggy brown hair, button nose and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. His voice was a sinful pitch of sexy baritone and his body appeared lithe and toned. Of all the men to hit on you in a bustling airport, you were glad it was this one.

“Me too! Meeting my friends there for a long bachelor party week of partying.”

“Oh, you’re getting married?” You ask. That would make this exchange less invigorating.

“No! No,” he quickly replies. “My childhood best friend Seokjin is. He wants to go around LA and eat at as many restaurants as he can and then drink until he passes out. His words.”

You stifle a laugh, pleased with the information that the young suitor across from you is at the very least, not engaged. “Sounds like a wild time.”

He nods in agreement, flashing a cute grin. Your stomach flips. He’s so attractive. You can’t help but eye him down, let your gaze soak in his beauty. He notices and smirks.

“What seat are you?” He asks.

“Ah,” you squint at the ticket in your lap. “14A. Window seat.”

He laughs out loud. “No fucking way.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Why?”

“I’m 14B.”

You join in his laughter. “Seems like we’re in for an exciting flight.”

He winks at you and you feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees.

“I’m Taehyung, by the way. Can’t wait to get to know you better, neighbor.” He drawls, before leaving to stand in line to board the plane.

The long haul flight starts out simple, conversation flowing between you and Taehyung easily. You discuss your plans for LA, what you hope to see, your friends. He’s a gentleman from the very beginning and asks questions about your life. He seems genuinely curious about you. He hands you his phone before the plane takes off, begging to see your Instagram.

You grin as you take the device and tap in your username, showing him the profile that pops up.

“God damn,” he sighs as he scrolls through your images. Selfies, pictures with friends, your dog, everything. “You’re really fucking attractive.”

You blush and watch as he presses the ‘follow’ button. You’re just as eager to get a glimpse at his own profile. The man looks like he could be a model, you’re sure his pictures do him justice. Plus, you’re dying to show your friends the hottie who hit on you in the airport.

The flight takes off and you settle in for a long, 15 hour flight with your new companion.

The chill of the recycled air prickles at your skin, and you’re tugging on the thin airplane blanket as soon as you can.

He coos at you, finding the sight of you cuddled up adorable. “You’re really cute,” he states again. “I’m like, ridiculously into you.”

Your cheeks heat. “You’re like, ridiculously confident, you know?”

He offers a wink in reply.

“I’d totally fuck you.” He sighs after a moment, causing you to splutter on your own spit.

“Jesus! We just met!” Your eyes widen in surprise, looking around to ensure no one on the plane heard your conversation.

“So? What's the difference between meeting at a club or meeting on a plane? After the club, you still get laid.”

You’re silent for a moment, pondering his words. Honestly, he’s not wrong. The only difference is the level of exhibitionism he’s exuding.

But, the idea of hooking up with the handsome stranger on the flight has you aching in more than one way.

“Here?” You whisper harshly, heart rate elevating quickly.

He laughs for a moment. “Damn, I meant like in the bathroom or something, but you’ve got a better idea.”

Your cheeks are nearly tomato red in color as he winks at you.

“You down?” He asks sweetly.

You feel Taehyung’s hand land on your thigh, rubbing at the fabric of your yoga tights. You steal a glance at him and see him staring right back at you, a smirk clear in his perfectly shaped lips.

“I-...,” it’s hard to talk, let alone breathe. Taehyung is offering to pleasure you right here in the middle of a crowded plane. The thought is heady and very persuasive. “Will you stop if I ask you to?”

Tae’s eyes soften. “Of course. You just say the word and I’ll stop.”

His reaction seems genuine and makes your heart flutter in relief. You worry your bottom lip for just a moment, and then nod your agreement.

“Just keep quiet,” you whisper and his grin is wicked.

“I’d worry about yourself in that regard.”

You’re suddenly thankful the old man sitting next to Taehyung on the aisle seat is fast asleep, blackout mask covering his eyes and earbuds shoved in his ears.

Tae’s fingers slide up and down your leg. He sees your blissed out face already and winks.

Fuck, it’s incredible how quickly he turns you on. His hand on your leg has you absolutely soaking wet. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what else he could do, your body might not handle it.

His fingers run up higher, towards where your thighs meet. He grazes his touch over your core and you’re sure he can feel your wetness. It feels like your whole body is burning, his touch igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers.

He leans over to whisper in your ear. “I’m a little cold, mind if I share the blanket?”

You can only nod, the power of speech completely gone now. You gasp as his fingers maintain an up and down motion along your clothed slit.

He chuckles and pulls the blanket over himself to join you in the warmth. To any bystander on the plane, you appear as a loved up couple sharing a blanket for a nice nap. In reality, you’re strangers desperate to feel each other.

“Pull these leggings down for me, baby?” He asks, but it sounds like a demand. You’re so into it you can’t even breathe. You idly obey, lifting your hips slightly to push the leggings down just far enough to not be suspicious.

He turns his body to rest his head on your shoulder, giving off the illusion of a lovesick boyfriend wanting to cuddle.

“Fuck,” he moans into your ear. His finger is rubbing along your pussy now, gathering up the slick that has gathered. “So fucking wet for me.”

You swallow thickly and try to bite back the loud moan begging to leave your lips.

“Do you like that, babe?” He whispers, the breath in your ear making you shiver. “You want me to finger you here on the plane?”

“P-please,” you croak out. He turns your face towards him and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is all innocence, as his fingers slide into your core. He’s the definition of heaven and hell. You stifle a moan against his lips as you feel him enter you, his fingers curling up as he begins a gentle thrust. The silver rings on his fingers are cold, and you’re sure they’ll be covered in your slick by the time he’s done with you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans. “You feel like fucking heaven baby.”

You’re trying to stay quiet, biting your lip and breathing harshly through your nose. His fingers pick up a pace and you’re desperate, legs spreading to allow him better access.

“God,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver. “I wish I could kneel down and eat you right now. I bet you taste so good.”

He’s filthy, his words becoming more lascivious as he continues fucking into you. His pace becomes punishing, and you’re sure if someone looked over they could see the rhythmic bounce of the blanket.

“F-fuck,” you manage. He’s curling his fingers just right, and the metal of his rings is cold and slick from the wetness spilling from you.

“You wanna cum for me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips quickly. “You wanna cum all over my hand?”

You’re nodding quickly, trying to keep your eyes open to watch for any sign of being caught, but the thrill is forcing them closed.

“Yes, please,” you’re begging and trying so hard to maintain your low whisper. Breathing is even harder now as you feel your body reacting to his powerful fingers thrusting into you. The coil inside you is so near snapping it nearly hurts.

“So polite, baby,” he caresses your ear with a lave of his tongue. “Let go for me, pet. Let me see you cum on me in the middle of this plane.”

It seems as if you’re programmed to obey, and your body reacts in accord to his demands. The coil snaps and your cunt is convulsing around his fingers. Taehyung plasters his lips against yours to muffle your moaning, while coaxing your walls with his fingers to continue pulsing around him.

It takes a moment to come down, and Tae pulls away from your lips which leaves you breathless.

“Fuck, you’re the hottest person I’ve literally ever met,” he sighs. “I’d marry you right now if I could.”

You blush as you pant hard, feeling your wetness slip down your core to the leather seat underneath you. You grimace at the feeling and Tae smirks. He pops his slick finger into his mouth to clean it, maintaining constant eye contact with you, before he slips it out and presses the call flight attendant button.

Your eyes widen and you’re squirming to make sure the blanket covers you. Taehyung looks like the picture of professionalism as the elderly attendant comes to your row.

“Hi, my wife spilled her drink. Could we get some extra napkins?”

The attendant nods and slips away, leaving you with your blown senses and quivering legs. She’s back in an instant with a stack of napkins and Taehyung smiles sweetly at you.

“Let me help you, babe,” he grins. “You’re so clumsy, it’s adorable.” His hand slips back between your thighs, wiping at the mess he wrought out of you, before his fingers dance on your clit yet again.

The 15 hour flight may be the best and most torturous one yet.

By the time the plane lands on American soil, you’ve orgasmed 4 times at the hand of Taehyung. You’ve also managed to give him a ferocious handjob that left some questionable stains on the airline provided blanket, and taken a nap in his embrace.

It’s single-handedly the weirdest flight you’ve ever taken but definitely your favorite.

Tae walks next to you as you exit the plane, hand in hand. You don’t know what the fuck is happening but you’re feeling as if you’ve just been crowned queen of England.

“So, my wife,” Taehyung jokes. He kept the marriage roleplay up the whole flight, even regaling the once-sleeping man next to him with stories of how you met and where you got married. The whole scenario had you completely flustered and heart fluttering anxiously as he described how beautiful you were on your wedding day.

“I need to stop at the bathroom. Would you care to come with and watch my luggage?” He asks you, eyebrow raising suggestively.

You’re silent for a moment, but notice his growing smirk.

“Of course, darling,” you play. He squeezes your hand in response and drags you to the closest private bathroom he can find.

It’s not big and it’s definitely seen better cleaning, but you don’t care as soon as Tae’s lips cover yours the moment the door closes. All luggage is dropped and you’re throwing your arms around his neck. He holds you tight and lifts you up slightly.

“God, I wanted to kiss you like that the whole flight,” he sighs after pulling away. “I also wanted to fuck your tight little cunt until you can’t walk straight.”

“What’s stopping you, husband?” You tease as you press your hips to his.

He growls with appreciation as he lunges forward to kiss you again, teeth nipping at your lips and tongue swirling around your mouth.

“That’s my dirty little girl,” he whispers as he tugs the shirt you’re wearing off your body. “Someone loves getting fucked where anyone could walk in.”

You allow the fabric to fall to the ground, before you’re attaching your lips to his face, kissing and sucking down his neck. His skin tastes salty and sweet, and you’re desperate to lick every inch.

“Mmm, my little exhibitionist,” he slaps your ass and the sting elicits a gasp from you. “I bet your cute pussy is still dripping wet from earlier.” He pushes you against the cold tile of the wall. “Let me see please?”

You nod as he kisses your lips one last time, then descends to his knees and pulls your leggings and hopelessly soiled panties with him. You’re sure your core is drenched. The man made you cum more times in one flight than you had in most of your hookups, and that was from his fingers alone.

“Shit,” he gasps as you step out of the leggings and expose your drenched folds. “This is the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen. Still so wet from my fingers.”

He drags a digit through and pops it into his mouth, savoring the taste. You’re whimpering, worried your legs will give out from all blood rushing to your cunt.

“I dreamed I got to wake you up from our nap by eating you out,” he admits as he pulls your folds apart and licks his lips at the sight of your clit. “I want to wake up between your thighs.”

Any chance for retort is cut off, throat going dry as he pushes his tongue against your bundle of nerves, already overstimulated from an orgasm-filled flight. He laps at it, swirling around it vulgarly before dipping lower to fuck his tongue into you.

“I could fucking drink you.”

Tae isn’t shy with words, that is a fact you’re now very aware of. He commentates the entire thing, whispering his desires as he fucks his tongue in you and suckles at your clit.

“Tae, oh god,” you sigh. Your pussy has never been more pleasured in your short life, and in such a short time period.

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name,” he whispers with a particularly rough lick to the hood of your clit. “I wanna make you cum on my tongue but I need to fuck you before my cock explodes.”

“Yes, please, need you!” You whine needily and he slurps you one last time before he slips back up to level with you.

You assist him in undoing his jeans and he whips his stiff cock out.

“I want to suck you off,” you murmur as you stare at the head dripping with pre-cum.

“Oh Christ,” he gasps and tilts his head back. “I want that too but I’m so desperate to be inside you, baby. Next time.” He smirks.

He’s lining himself up, kissing your nose and lips and face as he pushes into you.

It feels like the culmination of all your desire and passion. You’re finally full of him after 15 hours of his delicious foreplay and nothing has ever felt more satisfying than his push into your drenched channel. He feels as if he slots right into you perfectly, pussy walls molding around him like a puzzle piece you didn’t realize was missing.

“Holy shit babe,” he groans. “Sweetest little pussy I’ve ever felt.” His voice sounds dreamy, and his grip on your hips tightens. “Shit, I could get used to this.”

You’re whimpering with want, desperate to feel his cock thrusting inside you.

“Need you, Tae. Please fuck me.”

He’s quick to comply, slowly pulling his length out before slamming it back in, eliciting a loud sob from your lips. His cock slipping and fucking into you is the best feeling and you feel like you’ve injected the drug that is Tae directly into your veins.

Taehyung keeps his filthy monologue running as he ruts into you.

“You feel so good, little one,” he gasps. “So wet and tight for me.”

The tip of his cock bumps against your cervix, jolting you with each thrust. You wish you could take him deeper, so deep he never leaves.

“Gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he asks as he tugs on your nipple. “Fuck, I want you to cum.”

His lips move to suck at your neck, and your hands claw harsh red lines down his back. Your insides feel like lava, hot and boiling and ready to burn you down instantly.

“P-please, so fucking close,” you weep. You’re sure you’ll never get fucked as good as you are right now, never feel as satisfied as you have over the last 15 hours. You’re desperate for everything and you want more, more.

“Yeah, fuck, cum for me little slut. Let the airport hear you get railed!”

Your back is arching into him and he picks up the speed and power. Wet skin slapping on skin echoes around the bathroom like music and your combined sighs and moans are the lyrics to a song only you and Taehyung could create.

“Oh my god, I’m cumming!” You scream. “Tae! Fuck Tae! Tae!” You chant his name like a prayer, devoting your orgasmic bliss to the deity pounding into you. He growls ferally, the sweet litany of his name bringing him right to the edge.

Your cunt pulsates around him, gripping his cock and sucking him in. He shudders a gasp as he feels himself unravel completely by the feel of your completion. He pulls out quickly and jerks himself to the end, cum splattering all over your stomach and tits. He whines your name as it lands on your skin, and he wishes he could see this every single day.

It takes you both a few seconds to breathe again, clinging to each other like long lost lovers.

Tae smiles down at your cum covered stomach. “Messy.”

“Seems like your wife isn’t the only clumsy one,” you wink. You drag your finger through the viscous liquid and lick it into your mouth. Taehyung groans.

“Shit you’re gonna get me ready for round 2 and I’ve got a taxi to catch in 5 minutes.”

He presses against you and kisses you, uncaring about the wetness pressing in between stomachs.

“That was the best flight I’ve ever taken in my life,” he sighs as you both unlatch and begin the process of dressing again.

You blush like a cherry and nod. “I only want to fly with that kind of accommodation from now on.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “We could make that happen.”

“Yeah?” You ask as you slip back into your slide sandals. “You want to see me again?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” He hops on one foot to slip his own shoes on. “I’d fucking fly 15 hours again just to be with you.”

Hope blooms in your chest, thankful that for some reason he seems as interested in continuing as you are. You press towards him again and kiss him deeply, tongue slipping past his lips to demonstrate your desire.

“Call me?” You ask. He nods in a daze.

Your phone is ringing incessantly, reminding you that your best friend is waiting outside the airport and wondering where you are. You have to leave and you find it hard to say goodbye.

“Thank you for flying Kim Taehyung airlines,” he jokes as you grab your luggage and open the bathroom door.

You choke on your laughter and blow a kiss, then push forward and leave behind the gorgeous and confident man of 14B in the bathroom.

It’s not until an hour later when you settle into your hotel bed that you notice an instagram message.

vante 12:45 am: let’s meet tonight. let me show you first class 😉

-2 years later-

The dash from the chapel to the airport is ridiculously quick. You barely have enough time to change out of your white gown and slip into something comfortable, wave goodbye to the friends and family gathered in your honor, and slide into a taxi towards the international terminals.

Tae holds your hand with a grin. He’s just as tired as you but you both can’t hold back your excitement, your awe of each other, elated by the events of the day and the thrill of the unknown future. He kisses you deeply during the taxi ride, uncaring about the way the driver eyes you two. Kissing Tae will never get old, you think, and you’re struck by the way he makes you feel each time his lips press to yours.

His hands linger on your body, then slips to tangle your fingers together, diamond ring slipping against his smooth metal one. He wants to kiss you more, take you there in the backseat, but you’re pulling up to the terminal before you know it and being tugged out of the backseat with your luggage in tow.

Check in is a breeze, and you’re suddenly sitting at the waiting area of the gate—nose in a book as Taehyung sits beside you and fiddles with the luggage and boarding passes.

“Wow, you’re really cute,” he speaks after moments of silence. He peers at you over the book.

You lower it to your lap with a sly grin.

“I think I need to use the bathroom.” He says. The sparkle in his eyes sends shocks through you, as if it’s the first time you’re seeing him again. “Care to assist me with my luggage?”

You can’t fight the giggle and blush that polishes your cheeks.

“Lead the way, husband.”

#maknaesmutsociety #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #heartsforbts #bts smut #bts fic #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #V taehyung #maknae line smut #bangtan smut

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castiowl · 4 years ago

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It's Not Traditional a lil dean/cas proposal ficlet

Dean’s not sure how he always gets saddled with popcorn duty, although he’ll be the first to admit this time he’s not too bothered by it. Sam had picked out Four Weddings and a Funeral for movie night and the aforementioned funeral is about to happen and Dean would rather not weep like a baby in front of Sam, Eileen, and Cas when Matthew recites that Auden poem.

As the popcorn bag spins in the microwave, slowly inflating, Dean considers all that’s changed in the past few months. He wasn’t sure someone could survive changing as much as he has, but then again maybe he hadn’t changed so much as he has just accepted who he is. Someone who loves Cas, first of all. Best of all. Someone who loves men and has loved men for a very long time and that’s okay. Relatedly, someone who can now openly comment on Hugh Grant’s veritable attractiveness in front of his brother, his friend, and his—what? What are they? Boyfriends? They’re not in high school, although the giddiness Dean still feels even months after the fact when Cas presses a hand to his lower back or steals a quick kiss from him at the breakfast table before shuffling off to make coffee, makes it feel a lot like obsessive, all-encompassing high school love. Dean is thrumming with it, a smile always moments away.

[Read on AO3]

Dean has also accepted that he is someone who can sit down with his brother, his friend, and his whatever and watch Four Weddings and a Funeral and only grouse about it being a chick flick for thirty seconds (he hasn’t completely tossed his reputation for hating girly shit in the trash; but he’ll never admit it’s because the girly shit makes him soft and he’s not sure his heart can take that right now) before accepting Sam’s declaration that ”it’s a classic” and absolutely required watching for Cas. Plus Eileen points out it’s one of the only movies with a deaf character whose entire plot isn’t centered around the fact that he’s deaf, even if he is a minor character.

The microwave beeps at him and he empties the contents into a bowl. As he nears the doorway to the movie and gaming den, he’s disappointed to note that Sam apparently paused the movie when Dean left. Great. He could feign a headache, he supposes, but then there is a delightful little thought that maybe Cas will take pity on his sorry, weeping self and let Dean spend the rest of the movie curled against him on the couch in his arms. They try to keep the PDA to a minimum with Sam around, but this is what he gets for bringing Four Weddings and a Funeral into the mix. He’s a sadist and he gets what he deserves.

Dean’s about to round the corner into the room when he hears his name and pauses. He hesitates because he likes to consider himself an adult who understands boundaries, but he’s also Dean Winchester and if Sam wants to talk shit about him behind his back, then Dean deserves to hear about it so he can retaliate accordingly. He’s thinking Miracle needs a bath and maybe Sam’s bedroom is the perfect place to let loose a 60-pound sopping wet dog to dry himself off on his bedsheets.

“I suppose I never considered it,” Cas is saying, his voice low but carrying in the quiet of the room. “There isn’t much that’s traditional about what we are.”

“Sure, yeah, true,” Sam replies. “But it’s not just about tradition, y’know. Anyway, I was just curious. You guys don’t have to do anything, obviously. But I just…” There’s a pause and Dean can almost perfectly conjure the image of Cas’s prying look in his mind, aimed right at Sam. “Dean’s a romantic,” Sam says finally.

Dean frowns at that, a protest rising in his throat before he can remind himself that given the last three months, he has absolutely no leg to stand on. He is a romantic. Gross.

“Well, I’m sure if Dean wanted to get married, he would tell me.”

The bowl of popcorn slips from Dean’s hands and lands with an impossibly loud clang on the floor. Married. The word has Dean completely flustered and he’s still reeling when Miracle comes trotting out of the room to investigate, spots the popcorn, and goes absolutely feral, licking up the popcorn like it’s his last meal on earth.

“Agh! Miracle! Stop it! Fuck,” Dean makes an aborted attempt to stop Miracle, but he looks like he’s discovered the holy grail, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he hoovers up the popcorn.

“Dean?”

Dean glances up from where he’s on his knees, holding an empty bowl as Miracle frantically cleans up the mess he made.

Married.

“Hey,” Dean says and his voice cracks like the fucking traitor it is. He clears his throat. “Sorry. I’ll have to make another bowl.”

“You were eavesdropping.”

It’s not a question. But Cas has this little quirk of a smile on his face that has Dean’s heart pounding in his ears.

Married.

“Uh, yeah, well. Heard my name and had to make sure Sammy wasn’t telling lies about me.”

Cas huffs a laugh and leans against the doorway. Dean’s still on the floor and he thinks about standing but he’s not entirely sure his legs would hold him up because—

MARRIED.

“Well, Dean, you tell me. Was Sam lying?”

“Lying?”

“Would you like to get married?”

Just like that. Dean will never admit to this, but privately he has thought about it. Big romantic gestures involving flowers and music, and quieter proposals whispered in the dark, in their bedroom, against the nape of Cas’s neck. Dean’s always been too scared, too unsure of Cas and his thoughts on the decidedly antiquated ritual of marriage. Cas saying no is basically the worst thing Dean can imagine, and he’s seen some shit in his time. Besides, it’s only been three months.

Cas’s eyebrow has risen in a silent question. Well?

“Jesus, Cas, you can’t just ask me that like…”

“No, of course not,” Cas agrees. “And you’re already on your knees. Ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me,” he repeats and Dean can see the mirth in his eyes. The little shit loves seeing Dean squirm, but two can play at that game. Dean pulls one leg up so he’s down on one knee, the proper stance if he’s going to do this. Which, holy shit, he thinks he’s going to do this.

“Make an honest man outta me, Cas,” Dean says.

Cas rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “Sam said you were a romantic.”

“What? That was romantic as hell.”

Cas reaches out a hand and Dean takes it. Cas pulls him to his feet. “You didn’t even tell me you loved me,” Cas points out.

Dean pulls himself into Cas’s space, their hands still clasped between them. “I also don’t have a ring,” Dean says.

“Well,” Cas says and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, Dean following the movement with great interest, “nothing we’ve done so far has been traditional. Perhaps we should keep it that way.”

Dean’s heart sinks. He should’ve figured as much. It’s not like they need something as basic as marriage to solidify what they have. It’s already perfect. Don’t fix what ain’t broke, right?

“But,” Cas continues thoughtfully, “I think I would like this to be our one exception.”

Dean swallows down the anxiety building behind his sternum. “Really?”

Cas smiles widely at that, his nose crinkling in that way that makes Dean understand why people swoon when they’re in love in old movies. Fuck, he really loves this guy.

“Marry me,” Cas says.

“Fuck yeah,” Dean replies and closes the distance between them with a fervent kiss. Cas inhales sharply and returns the kiss enthusiastically, although it’s clear they’re both fighting not to smile.

Someone clears their throat from the doorway.

Dean pulls back. He and Cas stare at one another and Dean sees reflected in Cas’s eyes what he’s feeling: pure, unadulterated, passionate love. And maybe a little lust, but it’s mostly love, Dean swears.

“If you guys are done being gross, we still have the movie to finish,” Sam says.

Dean finally looks over at his brother in the doorway who is trying his best to look peeved, but he can’t help smiling.

“Perhaps we can finish another time,” Cas says, turning to look at Sam. “My fiancé and I have some business to discuss regarding our upcoming nuptials.” He turns back to Dean and adds, “In our bedroom.”

Sam feigns gagging. “Spare me the details. Congrats or whatever. Now fuck off.”

“Gladly,” Dean replies and pulls Cas back down the hallway toward their bedroom. Dean has one thought before he lets his mind become saturated in all the simple, lurid thoughts that come with sex: Dean is going to marry the shit out of Cas.

#deancas #destiel #*#spn #mine #my writing #ficrec

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blurredcolour · 2 years ago

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Elvis and Austin!Elvis Ask game:

Thank you for the tag, @thatonemoviefan

•When and what was your first exposure to Elvis Presley? Elvis is one of those core pieces of popular culture and I do not remember a time when I didn’t know of him? Nor do I remember when I first was exposed to him. That being said, I didn’t really get into Elvis as a fan myself until I saw the Baz Lurhman film on July 23, 2022.

•And what was your first impression? I have missed out on so much…

•Lace shirts or jumpsuits? This is so hard! I love them both but I am slightly more into 50s Elvis so I guess lace shirts is the answer.

•You can steal one of Elvis/Austin’s outfits, what’s it going to be? The football outfit! Looks legit comfortable and useful hahaha.

•C’mon, we know you’ve been watching/reading old interviews and random footage of the man, so what’s your favorite random Elvis quote? Preacher Elvis from @elvisabutler ’s asks!!! “It ain’t in the bible, but it’s true.”

•Did you find Austin Butler’s lips distracting despite them being in a movie about the King of plush upper lips? (Be honest now) Absolutely but like…in a good way?!

•What’s an aspect of Elvis’ character you wish more people appreciated? How giving he was to those he cared about. Like he’s famous for his excess and gaudy decorating style, but no one talks about all those he helped and supported…

•You meet Col. Tom Parker for the first time, forewarned with the knowledge of what a scumbag he is, what do you do?:

A. nothing, you’re a coward who doesn’t care about abused golden-hearted men

B. you give the Colonel a stern telling off

C. you encourage Elvis to leave him and break the contract

D. you slap a legal document against that fat suit and declare ��Mrs. Claus is bringing you a lawsuit”

E. you waste no time with formalities, it’s a letter opener to the jugular for that piece of trash

This is really tough…but I don’t condone murder, so definitely D, the lawsuit

•What was your favorite aspect/scene from the Elvis 2022 movie? Torn between the Hayride scene – the move does such a good job of translating his radical sex appeal to a modern audience; and the Trouble scene – the movie does such a good job of turning me on HA!. Special mention of the creative transitions between scenes, those really made me happy too.

•You can choose only one song or piece of media to convince someone to become an Elvis fan, what is it going to be? I’m totally stealing @thatonemoviefan’s answer here – Elvis (2022)

•How many children would you give Elvis Presley from your own -or theoretical- womb? (listen to the beast in ya) Kids are not in the cards for me, biologically speaking, but I would delight in trying endlessly

•Where are you hanging out with EP, his bedroom with the teddy bears, Club Handy, his private jet or Graceland? Graceland! It looks so beautiful, I love the countryside

•What is the peak Elvis era? warning, this says an awful lot about you… 50s, ground-breaking, controversial

•How long have you been an Austin Butler fan (be honest now, God is watching) So I was definitely attracted to his character in Switched at Birth but never got into him as an actor until I first saw the Elvis trailer at some point in June. Then spent a month canvassing friends and family until someone agreed to see it with me.

•What kind of Elvis chick are you? -a 1950’s prospective wife material that he’s already sampled, a 1960’s filmset fling or a Vegas torrid backstage affair? Definitely 50s for this one, I’m pretty happy to be at home and cook

•Is Austin Butler an honorary southerner now? Answer options:

A. hell no, California can keep his sweet cheeks.

B. hell yes, he’s practically been possessed by the soul of the King of the South

IF I were to speak for the South I think it’s B? That accent just…suits him so well [But I think being a Canadian disqualifies me from answering this question]

•Pick your poison in the fan-fiction realm: angst, fluff, smut, fluffy smut, angsty fluff, angsty smut?…or is reading about Elvis Presley an acknowledged health hazard? Considering I can’t write anything without it ending in smut, definitely smut

•Spit or swallow for this man? (And if you don’t understand this question move right along) swallow *blushes like a slut*

•Would Gladys approve of you? Take your above answer into consideration One look at me and she would sense my unholy thoughts…I also blaspheme A LOT….so no, she would not

•Which of Elvis’ cars is your favorite? Triumph Bonneville motorcycle

•What are your odds for besting this man at karate? I’d be happy to have him pin me so let’s say zero

•If you could meet Elvis and have enough composure to tell him something, what would it be? Your impact on the world has been huge and everlasting

•What’s a hobby or pastime of yours you wish you could share with Elvis/Austin!Elvis? Listening to music. Could you imagine his perspective on it?!

•What’s the Elvis 2022 quote you’ve been mumbling to yourself ever since you heard it?

“Whatchu lookin’ at back there (back there, back there, back there)?”

•What are your top 3 go-to Elvis songs?

Polk Salad Annie

That’s Alright Mama

Trouble

•If you could spare him one tragedy what would it be? Doctor Nic’s poison

•Is there a modern artist that sorta scratches for you the itch that Elvis’ absence leaves? Not really modern, but I started listening to Paul Simon’s Essential album in rotation with Elvis music/the Elvis Soundtrack. It wall goes together so well.

•How did you react at the end of the movie when In the Ghetto started to play A. I got up and fixed a snack because I have no soul, B. I left feeling alarmingly horny, C. I was impressed but didn’t realize how affected I was until days later when it was still with me D. I cried buckets they had to bring in a mop E. I may have appeared emotionless but in fact my soul was leaving my body and I don’t think it’s returned quite yet

B! B! B!!! I went to my birthday party right after and had to pretend I was SO normal about the movie when I most certainly WAS NOT.

•If you’ve got a favorite gif or photo insert it here and bless us all

@karamelcoveredolicity's masterpiece here...I wrote a whole sex scene about it hahaha

I Tag: @eliseinmemphis, @dre6ming

#Elvis Ask Game #austin!elvis ask game #austin butler #elvis prese #blurredcolour

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dannyboyzone · 4 years ago

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Why these Lookism Bad Guys are liked, a rant by me

Alright, so I have came across a post talking about how Johan is hated on despite being a "bad person", and trashing other characters for absolutely no reason other than guilt tripping people. I personally think the post is immature, but due to my own personality and mental state, it has still got me kind of pressed, because it all sounds ridiculous. This post will be about some people in Lookism that are viewed as a bad people and or are hated on, and why I think they are liked. I won't speak for everybody liking these characters, and it will include some characters that I hate. This post is just to give a general idea for people who are really ignorant about why some characters might receive love. You might have come across that post, and if not, I am talking about this one below. - Well, only a small part of it, that threw me off. -

I didn't include the person's username out of respect and also so they don't feel attacked or anything of the sort.

Before starting this off, there are a few things I would like to say. If I sound petty, I truly don't care. I never saw anybody hating on Johan, at max maybe give criticism, I also don't hate Johan or try to disvalidate anyone's feelings, just get some things straight. Liking someone's looks does not immediately mean you are attracted to them, neither does liking the person's look you are attracted to mean you are toxic. It means you are loving. If you like someone's personality, you will find them beautiful consciously or subconsciously. If someone finds a character handsome, it is not a crime, people have types and preferences, and if they do it's none of your business. Hating good looking people doesn't make you woke, neither hating on people who are attracted to good looking people. What are you, Crystal Choi? And yes, people will be attracted to looks, it's a normal human act. People will notice if they find someone more attractive or unattractive which is not a bad thing. What is a bad thing when they start treating people different because of it. I assure you, most of the lookism fandom that I have came across doesn't do that.

This post will not include Seong Yohan because I never saw him get hated and I don't think nobody knows where he is coming from.

Samuel Seo

Yeah, so what seemed to be a surprise for me is that not a lot of people like Samuel, or at least understand why the people liking him would. Now, I personally feel no romantic attachment towards him. - Which is yes, normal, even if he is fictional. It's called fictophilia and I better see no judgement about it. - However, I do love Samuel a lot, and would love to care for him and grow a strong bond. To me, Samuel is not a monster. At all, believe me, Samuel isn't liked only for his looks. For me, personally, I love him so much because I can relate to him. I absolutely hated him at first, but grew to love him because he is human. He is complex, has a hard life and isn't perfect. That's exactly why I love him, and someone else I really adore does too. Yes sure, as you grow to like someone's personality, you find them handsome and or pretty. It's so much easier to say someone is pretty than to say, 'Hey, I love this person because they helped me go through so much.' Not everyone has the same love language, not everyone is comfortable with blunt affection. Besides, Samuel can and will achieve anything he wants. He has SO much sides to himself, not just 'good looking violent guy with big tits'. That's not Samuel at all. Besides, if PTJ oversexualises him, it's hard to not notice his body.

Yes sure, Samuel hits women, but I personally, don't f%cking care. Your vagina doesn't define if you deserve violence or not, your behaviour and the person's you face personality does. I am personally someone that doesn't mind violence as long as the person deserved it, because some scumbags in this world do. If they happen to be a woman, that's not on me, they shouldn't have done whatever they did. If you are not a violent person, I am not even sorry to tell you this, but you are probably sexist. It's not like all women are fragile and unable to get hit. Besides, if his violence is the problem, why is it fine that he hits men? Because men can handle it? According to statistics women have a higher pain tolerance. By your logic, you should call him out for hitting anyone in his way. Stop acting like hitting women is a necessarily bad thing, start saying that hitting innocent people is a bad thing.

If you must hate on him, maybe use the fact that he killed his abusive and neglective parents. Don't give a hard time to others for liking him though.

Ahn JongGun

Does Gun seem like a bad guy? Absolutely, he has done some horrible things. Then why do we like him? Because he seems to have a smaller character development coming, he has so many things to him and he is an absolutely incredible and complex character. I am very curious of his background and what caused him to be so violent and yet so calm. I like him because he allows himself to be human. From his religion, to his knowledge of material arts, to his adoration towards Vasco's material arts teacher - I forgot his name, so excuse me for that -, to his attention to details, to his fashion sense, it all makes him human. It's nice to see someone be a human, instead of just 'hot guy' or 'villain'. He is a nice character that brings many depth to the story. I could list a hundred of reasons why I love him, and no, none of it is his "weird" fashion sense. I do find him incredibly stylish, I just think some people in this fandom don't understand fashion. - Oops, I guess. - My main reason to liking him is that he is most likely either bisexual or pansexual. That he has a crush on Daniel. I might seem like I have a weird fetish or something, or that I am a crazy "fangirl". That's not the case though. I am a part of the LGBTQ+ community, and while not huge, I adore the hell out of the representation. It's nice to see such a smart, elegant and powerful guy be the representation. Because he is a character that's not there simply to be gay and full of stereotypes. Like, no hard feelings if you fit into stereotypes, but as a person who doesn't fit into them, it's a refreshing thing to see someone that's allowed to have many sides to himself other than just 'the gay friend'. Of course I am sure there are a lot of people who have many other reasons to love him, like his endless knowledge of material arts. There is so many reasons to be interested in his character, and just because you can't see it that doesn't mean others are blind to it too.

Yeah, he might have slept with countless women, but the main reason you can't count it is because he never stated the amount of women he slept with, neither did anyone else. Sure, he did say that Daniel is better than any women he ever slept with, but for all you know that could have been 3. Even if, it doesn't matter. He could have slept with 3, or 70 women. It doesn't matter, because not everyone's sexual life will reflect your own. And other people's sexual life is none of your business. Sure, you can say it's only fiction, and that I am overreacting, but when it comes to such small or personal details, people tend to put their own personal view into it. It's really not fine to shame others for their sexual life. As long as he uses protection, and didn't make anyone pregnant and doesn't play with the feelings of anyone, who gives a f%ck.

Some people tend to lash out sexually if they experience trauma or stress, and no, I don't mean they go and r%pe people, I mean that they go and have sex with different people who give consent. Even if he doesn't do it because of that, why does it bother you so much? Sex isn't a disgusting act. Some people like it, some people don't. Whatever their decision is, as long as no one is hurt, you should respect their decision.

Kim JoonGoo

Alright, this got me f%cked up. Goo is such a good character, and no way he would ever cheat on his S/O. He has morals and a lot of good sense in himself. Sure, he might have said that Samuel will be his secret friend, which led OP to believing Goo would cheat, but that's... a terrible reason, in my opinion. Gun knows that Samuel works for Goo, and Goo owns up it too. Besides that, nothing, absolutely nothing would lead to the fact that Goo would cheat. Because he wouldn't.

Now, why do I like Goo, and why some other's might like him too. He is such a well put together character, unpredictable yet so simple. He damages people to a point they have to retire, doesn't get scared of murderer, is a money maniac and hates his boss. You would think, he is dirty and fits the "gangster" stereotypes. That's not the case at all. He is more hygienic than most of the characters of lookism, if not the most hygienic one. He hates drinking and smoking, doesn't have tattoos - not that there is anything wrong with that - and is incredibly patient.

He might be a money maniac sure, but his ability to control money so well the way he does just shows how high his IQ is. I find that amusing, since it's something hard to do. What I completely love to the moon and back about Goo is his creativity.

When he gets into fights, he is patient and maybe let's himself get hit a few times. That's a good thing because he has time to learn about what he is facing. I think that's neat, because not a lot of people think about that during fights, and he taught me to do that. Also, the way he harms people is very creative too, no matter how harsh that sounds. He stabs people with chopsticks, kicks people with a glass piece stuck in his shoe and harms people with a katana. It's all so unpredictable yet fits him so well. I really love the way he fights and handles situations because it tells so much about him. Also, he is so fun, who would do karaoke after beating a bunch of guys unconscious? Only your one and only Kim JoonGoo. He is such a fun person to study and to read about.

So, no, I will not put up with the bullsh%t that he would cheat on his s/o, because he is a very respectful and none judgemental person. Just because his fights look violent to you, and his friendship with Gun unstable, that doesn't mean he is a bad person. It just means he is different from you, and yeah, he does f%cked up things, I won't deny that. That's exactly what makes him an interesting character.

Xiaolong

Now, I personally don't like Xiaolong that much, so this will not come from heart, but a place of logic. For a disclaimer, I am not caught up on the latest chapters, because I want to binge read it.

Now, even though I do not like Xiaolung, I can see why other people would.

He is a responsible person, who takes good care of himself even though he has to look after Vivi 24/7. He is not only good in his job, but takes it very seriously too. He isn't afraid to take action to make sure his job is going smoothly, and that everything is on it's place. He would do anything to protect Vivi, which can be appealing to some.

And from what I saw from spoilers, he is very strong. No, admiring his strength does not make the person toxic or fragile. It means they find the place in their heart to appreciate the type of struggle and hard work he puts into it. He has an unique way of fighting, which I could only see a small portion of. However it's clear that he must be impressive. I completely understand if people find that neat.

Also, Xiaolong seems like such a f%cking loyal person. That's so incredibly important. A lot of people can find that appealing, for various reasons. I am aware there are poly people, or anything similar to that, but loyalty is so important for some people and can form a very deep sense of love.

Yeah, he might take care of Vivi when she is drugged and let her get away with drugs but consider this that's his job. He is payed to do that and swore to do his best in it, as it's very important to him.

Outro;

Yeah, I don't care, like who ever you want to and defend them, but if you drag down other characters and guilt trip people because of liking specific characters, you are not going to be "woke" or special. And I will find you, and e a t you. - For legal reasons, that's a joke. -

That is not the only post that I saw shame those characters and people who like them, but is the one that made me messed up.

This fandom absolutely loves shaming people if they love the character design and looks of their favourite character. Let me tell you something though; You are missing the point of the whole manhwa you are reading.

Finding people attractive and beautiful is completely normal. Treating them differently because of that is not. As far as I am concerned, I never saw any lookism fans hate on characters they find less attractive. - Rather on the attractive ones. -

People have a type and that applies to looks and personality. Literally everyone does, even if it's unconsciously.

If you want your favorite character to get more love, don't make other people's comfort characters look bad on purpose, because in their eyes they aren't simply the bad qualities you see in them. And if you highlight them at least make sure they are true or at least reasonable bad qualities.

Well yeah, that was my little rant. And I didn't even mention the psychological aspects of why each character is like, or in other words what people they might attract. Or, the difference kind of personal life experiences people had to go through to appreciate each kind of little detail about the characters.

Yeah, this is the end of my little rant. If this post will get actual mature answers and discussions, I will make a similar one for Vinjin, Logan, Olly and Jiho. Yeah, I hate all of them, but other people might not.

END

#lookism #외모지상주의

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kim-ruzek · 3 years ago

Text

Girl Crush

Summary: This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

Or; at the end of 3x23, Sylvie doesn't go home with Roman-- but instead with Kim. And gets the fucking she deserves.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. This is just my excuse to give Sylvie the orgasm she deserves and the one she clearly did not get with Ratman. And so there's also Roman bashing bc Roman is trash.

Word Count: 4.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: For @gilbxrt-blythe bc Abby started™ something in my mind on Sunday, thus leading me to writing this all yesterday bc,,, our girls deserve so much better than Sean Roman and this fandom needs more wlw content. Let's save our darling girls!!

Someone’s hooking up tonight.

Chili’s words go around in Sylvie’s head all night. Largely, she ignores them—or rather, tries to—just focusing on the beer she’s sipping faster than usual and the joyous atmosphere in the bar but there’s those moments it creeps into her thoughts.

Her PIC is right about one thing, the thing she said about volcanoes. The firehouse has been so tense of late and she can tell that a weight has been lifted off them, and Sylvie thinks that’s quite like a volcano. But she—perhaps, stubbornly—refuses to admit Chili might be right about the hooking up part.

If anyone was to know Sylvie’s thoughts, know that she’s trying, more vehemently that she should, to deny that, they question why. To which Sylvie would just claim that it’s because she hates gossiping about her co-workers, people who are her friends are family, and that she doesn’t like speculating on their sex lives.

Sylvie even tried to insist this to herself, not that it works. How can it when she can feel her toes curl slightly at the thought of just... Throwing everything to the wind and just enjoying some pure, unadulterated primal ecstasy. That she finds herself subconsciously looking around the bar, as if she’s trying to find a suitable candidate.

She has always felt the weight of her friends’ turmoil so heavily. Empathetic to the core, her father said, when he grinned at her becoming a paramedic, telling her it’s what she was born to do. She likes it, she does. She likes caring about those important to her, to care about anyone who’s a decent human—and even those who aren’t—but it gets tiring, feeling the weight of their unhappiness on her shoulders.

It’s not even like she was directly wrapped up in the drama going around in the house, but it was so intense—a volcano getting ready to burst. And something tells her that she won’t be able to shake it off with just getting drunk amongst her friends.

“Hey, Brett,” Sylvie looks to her left, seeing Sean Roman slip into the seat beside her. The paramedic smiles at him, ever polite, turning so she’s more face on to him. He was close to her before she shifted, and she thought that would be annoying, if he wanted to converse.

Only, Sylvie quickly gets that he doesn’t have talking on mind.

The patrol officer is quick to close the space between them again, shifting himself and resting a hand on the back edge of her seat. She could get away if she wanted, but it gives off a certain trapped vibe, a vibe that shows exactly the kind of intentions Roman has.

There’s a twist of uncomfortableness in her stomach. Roman is sort of attractive, she guesses, although she doesn’t know if she’d fully trust her taste in men yet; there being too many wrongly stacked choices compared to the right. But even if he was the hottest specimen she had ever seen, there’s something off putting about his approach, leaving her with the impression he doesn’t want her to move away from him.

But there’s that volcano inside her, wanting to explode, and the alcohol is already coursing through her veins, so despite the sober parts of her brain metaphorically screwing up its nose at the officer, Sylvie doesn’t attempt to move again, instead leaning on her arm, interested in whatever he has to say.

“I’ve got a few more interesting stories like that, if you want to hear more?” Roman smiles hungrily at her, his eyes making her feel like a piece of meat. He had just finished telling her an amusing story from patrol and she gets the impression that’s his hook, and that now he’s trying to reel her in.

“The bar’s a bit loud, though. So we should go back to mine,” There it is, the beginning of the reel. He’s looking hopeful at her, and there’s an attempt to look appealing, sexy. It doesn’t work, but Sylvie finds herself shrugging, thinking that she could do a lot worse that Sean Roman.

“Hey, Sylvie. Roman.” Before she can agree, Kim appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

The brunette is on the other side of her, her arm lightly touching her as she greets them. In a way, Kim is affectively penning Sylvie in like her partner did, but it doesn’t make her stomach twist in that same uncomfortable way. There’s some meaning to that, she knows, but she doesn’t bother to reflect on what.

“Hey, Burgess.” Roman seems irked. He’s looking at her rather rudely, and Sylvie doesn’t like that. She cares about her friends and Kim is one of her first Chicago friends who doesn’t work with her. So she grins at her a little wider then she already would, wrapping her arms around the other officer.

“Hey, Kim!” If Roman picks up on the pointedness in Sylvie’s tone, he doesn’t let on.

“Hi,” Kim smiles at her again, repeating a greeting before continuing and Sylvie must be a little more tipsy than she thought because her mind is immediately drawn to how pretty Kim looks when she smiles. “Chili had to leave early and asked me if I could drive you home instead. She said sorry, but there was a cute guy who she needed to know a bit better,”

Sylvie knows instantly that Kim is lying. Chili asked no such thing, considering she wanted to get absolutely wasted tonight and had no intention of driving herself home, let alone Sylvie. This lie is an anchor, a get out of jail card, a bailout. For who, she doesn’t know—doesn’t think that she’s too drunk to need it, but she takes it anyway.

“Oh, she promised she wouldn’t!” Sylvie goes along with the lie Kim has spun. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,”

“Eh. It’s no problem.” Kim shrugs her off with a wave of a hand.

“I was actually about to leave myself. I can take Brett, you can just relax. That way I can continue telling her some patrol stories,” Roman inserts himself back in the conversation but Kim has no patience for him.

“We’re partners, I can tell her the stories. C’mon, Sylvie, let’s go.” Kim gently encourages Sylvie up. There’s a disappointment at not being able to expend all this tension away, but girl code is more important, and girl code is telling her to go with Kim.

“We have to walk around the block—I don’t actually have my car, so we’ll have to call a taxi.” Kim tells her when they leave Molly’s, arms linked. Neither of them are anything more than tipsy, but Sylvie finds herself giggling at her words.

“Then why did you drag me out? Was a guy bothering you?” She asks.

“Oh, trust me, I did that for you. You’d regret that so much tomorrow. The guy’s my partner and all, but he... I was on patrol with his ex. Going there—that wouldn’t give you any sort of satisfaction.” Kim explains, and Sylvie widens her eyes, giggling again.

“Really?” The irony of Sylvie spending the evening denying that she cares about gossip saying this, leaning in with intrigue, is not lost on her.

“Jenn didn’t say anything outright but... I asked why she got engaged so quickly and she expressed that he—her fiancé—is very talented with his tongue, if you get what I mean. I inferred the rest. A man who won’t eat out his girl is not a man worth your time.” Kim says very manner of fact, and Sylvie laughs at it, the brunette joining in shortly after.

“It’s the truth!” Kim insists through her laughter. They’ve walked around the corner, now, Kim quickly dialling for a taxi through her laughs.

“My ex fiancé never did.” Sylvie confesses when their laughter died down. Kim lifts an eyebrow.

“Never?”

“Never. He said it was disgusting. Didn’t stop him wanting me to suck him, though.” Sylvie can’t help the bitter edge to her words, thinking about Harrison and thinking about how she could waste her time on him. Kim, evidently, thinks the same.

“Life is too short for those kinds of men.” Kim says. Her words are assured, confident, just a statement and Sylvie just hums in response, thinking that Kim probably never wasted years like she did.

“Hey, Sylvie. I don’t mean that like... You deserve so much better.” Kim picks up on her sudden drop of mood. “I don’t know why we lower ourselves for arses like that, but you deserve so much better. Better than people like Harrison and Roman.”

“So do you—if your exes never..?” Sylvie quickly adds on and Kim lets out a snort.

“Oh yeah. I’ve dated my fair share of arseholes.” She nods. “I don’t know why they’re like this. You’re so pretty, I don’t know how anyone could want to fuck you and not completely worship you.”

This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

It deepens Sylvie’s blush.

The air between them immediately shifts, and it feels almost so natural, Sylvie finds herself questioning whether the air always felt this thick and charged. The air is heavy, and there’s this certain kind of electricity between them; an electric energy of sorts that reminds her of when she was eighteen and her friends and her caught a ride into the nearest big town and snuck into the club—and of Sylvie waiting outside for her friends after and sharing her first—and only—kiss with a girl.

“That’s cos we’re women, though? We know what we want.” Sylvie tries to push all those thoughts aside.

Tries to ignore what she feels building in the air—because surely, it’s just in her mind? Just because she was thinking about throwing caution to the wind and having a night of passionate, explosive sex—and tries to not focus on how pretty Kim looks, how she looks like she’s the best and worst decision she could ever make wrapped up in one.

On how Kim is looking at her with such intense eyes, almost hungry eyes, eyes that says she wants to be one of those men.

“That’s not just why. I wouldn’t just eat you out until you come screaming because I’m a woman, I’d do it because I want to make you come undone at my doing—like you deserve.” Kim’s words sends pulsating throbs through her body, and she can feel herself getting turned on, her body feeling like Kim has just found the secret code to her with just her words. Sylvie stares at Kim, with shock.

“You... I... What?” Sylvie splutters, unsure of what exactly Kim is saying.

“I’m just saying. You’re hot, Brett. I can see why Roman tried.” There’s a pause. “I’m not trying to ruin our friendship. Tell me if I’m wrong, that I’m not picking up on some things and I’ll shut up and just get you home. But if I’m right, I’ll fuck you right.”

“I...” Sylvie is facing Kim dead on, now, the space between them feeling like too much, electric and heavy. It’s dark, the only light being the street lamp. But it catches the side of Kim’s face, lighting it up in such a pretty way and it stirs something deep and primal inside her.

The dark, positively hungry eyes Kim is looking at her with doesn’t help, either. It’s not like earlier, with Roman, it doesn’t make her feel like a piece of meat. It makes her feel like she’s the world’s most precious delicacy and that Kim would give her left arm just to get a taste.

“You’re right.” The words are barely out of her mouth when Kim is closing the space between them. One of her arms slips around the blonde’s waist, pulling her flush to her, the other gently resting on the bend of Sylvie’s neck as she kisses her.

Kim’s lips are soft, her touch gentle. The kiss starts off slow, although Sylvie wouldn’t have thought it with the way her body immediately responds, aching and her heart beating. But then Kim deepens the kiss, encouraging her mouth to open wider, slipping in her tongue. Sylvie responds eagerly, her arms wrapping around Kim, practically grabbing hold of her so she can return the kiss more fiercely.

If this was a preview into the abilities of Kim’s tongue, Sylvie doesn’t think that she’ll have to work her long before—to use Kim’s words—Sylvie’s coming undone at her doing.

When the taxi arrives, honking it’s horn on the two, busy kissing each other like they’re the only people in the world, the alcohol running through their veins and their and respective tiring days edging them on, making them so filled with want for this, they pull apart, out of breath, chest heaving.

They share smiles, little light-hearted giggles as they pull apart, climbing into the taxi. Kim opens the door, grabbing at Sylvie’s hand as she does so before moving swiftly out the way so she can climb in first.

They don’t make out in the taxi. They’re not even jammed up too close together, their bodies just turned towards each other. They are close enough for them to still have their hands interlocked, although it’s more like their arms at places and for their feet to lightly tap at the other’s, playing a footsy kind of game but they’re friends, they shared a taxi before, they’ve even had this ease of physical contact before.

Sylvie would almost wouldn’t be able to tell that the line between friends and lovers had been blurred for tonight, if it wasn’t for the electric energy between them, from how Sylvie’s just waiting until they can get back to hers, and how whenever Kim moves her fingers up and down her arm, gently running against her skin, it feels like little shocks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to yours,” Kim says as Sylvie leads her up the stairs. They’re deviating between holding hands and not, joking around as they make their way. Sometimes Kim’s spinning ahead of her, their hands dropping from their grip, and sometimes Sylvie is.

“We have only known each other a year and we have busy jobs.” Sylvie points out. Kim sticks out her tongue playfully and Sylvie has to stop herself from capturing it, and kissing Kim again. “This is me.”

Sylvie goes in first, opening her front door and placing her keys in her pot. Kim follows, and Sylvie watches as the brunette kicks off her shoes immediately, shrugging off her coat. For someone who’s never been here before, Kim fills the air with a confidence and it only fuels Sylvie’s need, her own confidence as the volcano erupts.

With a swift kick, Sylvie shuts her door and then her hands are on Kim, pulling her close. She grabs her hand, stopping her from moving further away from her, pulling her to her and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Hm,” Kim moans against her, kissing her with a casual, yet urgent force. The melodic hum is tinted in amusement, and she pulls away briefly, to Sylvie’s disappointment. “So, we’re going straight to this? Aren’t even going to ask if I want a beer?”

Her words are said in an amused tone, but Sylvie still finds herself blushing, cursing herself slightly.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Do you—” She’s interrupted by Kim kissing her.

“You’re so easy to tease. Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to drink. Eat, maybe.” Sylvie goes to panic again but then she sees the glint sparkling away in her eye and she blushes, getting the play on words.

“Hm, well there’s only one thing on the menu if you’re,” she pauses, “Hungry,”

Sylvie could swear that Kim licks her lips but then the brunette is kissing her again and all thoughts go out of her head, the only thing on her mind being the taste of Kim and getting her to her bedroom as soon as she can.

Neither of them are determined to disconnect from one another for long, not even in the interest in getting to her bed unscathed from injuries. Kim hits into the sofa and Sylvie nearly trips over something she left on the floor, but the two stay touching, kissing each other hungrily and needily.

Sylvie would love to say that she savoured the moment Kim took off her top, but any clothes removed is done hastily, urgently, the clothes feeling too much, too intrusive. All Sylvie can do is give Kim a quick, appreciative look over after she tosses off her top.

Although, she thinks, that could do more with that Kim then helps her get her top off, and rewards her with her lips on her neck immediately after.

“There,” Sylvie manages to gasp out, pointing at which door is her bedroom’s, as Kim pushes her up against her wall, attacking her neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. She’s going to have a mark there tomorrow, but tonight, tonight she doesn’t care, just tilting her head aside for her to have more access, her hands just grabbing at Kim as she does so.

Despite the urgency to get this far into her apartment, Kim has apparently decided they don’t need to finish the stretch right now, focusing on kissing along her collarbone, back up along her neck and jawline, stealing kisses from her lips before heading back down. She doesn’t go too far down with her kisses, but it’s enough to send Sylvie’s mind haywire, especially when she brushes along with her teeth.

All Sylvie can do is grab at Kim’s hair, the other hand resting on her waist, running up and down her back with her nails and moan at the kisses, grasping at her. One of Sylvie’s legs loops around Kim’s in a kind of way, pulling her lower body closer to her own, in the perfect place for Sylvie to grind against, needing to alleviate some tension.

It’s only when Kim’s hand snakes away from it’s current position and runs along the waistband of her jeans, deftly undoing her button and slipping inside does Sylvie gasp, pushing at Kim slightly. Kim’s hand is still cold from the cool Chicago night air, and Sylvie can feel the cold as Kim runs her hand against the cotton of her panties, lightly brushing over her throbbing clit.

“Bedroom. Kim, bedroom,” Sylvie gasps.

“Hm. Impatient, are we?” Kim grins at her, and Sylvie can’t help comparing it to a wolf looking at it’s prey. The brunette is so sweet and kind, Sylvie never would’ve guessed that she was like this—so confident and devious—in the bedroom. Or, rather, the hallway. But Sylvie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kim steps away from Sylvie then, and she immediately misses the warmth of her body, and her hand's presence from where it was so close to where she wants—no, needs—her. She’s going into Sylvie’s bedroom, beckoning the blonde to follow.

Sylvie is starting to rather feel like putty in Kim’s hands, and she’s never been a passive participant in her sex life—well, except when she lets men (Harrison) rule how she should be—and she’s not about to start.

She follows Kim on through, and she already has an advantage knowing the layout of her bedroom. Sylvie’s hands are on Kim again, and she’s leading, practically pushing, Kim to her bed, the brunette having no choice but to lie down on it, Sylvie immediately straddling her.

“Not a very good cop, are you?” Sylvie teases her, and when Kim goes to protest, she grinds down slightly, knowing exactly where it’ll cause friction. It has the desired effect, Kim moaning, her eyes fluttering shut slightly. Her hands are resting of Sylvie’s hips, and they go up then, stroking at the soft skin of her stomach.

“Bra, off. Now,” Kim says, running a hand along the edge of the bra. Sylvie grins wickedly at her, wondering why Kim ever thought she still had the upper hand, to doll out an order.

“Yes. That’s a good idea.” Sylvie shifts down Kim slightly, resting more weight on her own kneeled legs, allowing for Kim to sit up. The brunette clearly thinks it’s so she can help Sylvie with the bra, but Sylvie catches her hands, stopping her, and instead undoes Kim’s bra.

Sylvie’s never been intimate with a woman like this. There’s been those dreams—day dreams and actual dreams—that she spent a while trying to ignore, and thinking she’ll never act upon. But she’s never, physically, been with one and whereas her confidence has gotten her this far, she falters as Kim takes off her bra.

There’s that hesitation, that hesitation that she wants Kim—needs Kim—that this is exactly how she wants to explode tonight, but there’s that knowledge that she’s inexperienced in this, hitting her as she’s confronted with Kim’s naked chest.

“Is this too much?” Kim picks up straight away that Sylvie is having a moment, her eyebrows furrowing, turning concerned. “We can stop or just make out. Whatever you want—consent still applies with two women, y’know, and I won’t mind.”

Sylvie looks at her, Kim’s voice so gentle and caring, her big, brown eyes only filled with concerned, and something inside her throbs and Sylvie’s hesitation wears off as she realises that there’s nothing to be intimidated by, and Kim won’t mind if she has to guide her a little.

“Nah, I’m just taking your beauty in.” Sylvie jokes, before adding more seriously, “This is exactly what I want, Kim.”

“Good.” Kim smiles. “Because I’m feeling that we should even things here.”

Sylvie should’ve know that Kim would take off her bra as soon as she could, the brunette raking her eyes greedily over her body. She grabs at Sylvie’s thighs, positioning her in a way that she can sit on her and they can kiss with ease.

Kim doesn’t spend long kissing her lips before she’s travelling again, her fingers gently tracing patterns on her back as she kisses down her neck, collarbone, going between kisses and nips. Sylvie tries to adjust herself so that she can kiss the dip of Kim’s shoulder as she does so, but Kim tries her hardest to stop any attempts, not wanting to be restricted in her own explorations.

When Kim’s mouth gets to her chest, she pauses. Sylvie has barely any time to wonder what will happen next when Kim’s hand is palming one breast, making her gasp in surprise. The brunette lifts her mouth from her body, instead taking advantage of her agape mouth, kissing her deep. And then she’s moving them, laying Sylvie down, shifting who’s winning this lustful game of cat and mouse they’re playing.

Kim doesn’t straddle her like Sylvie did earlier, just making them vertical, Kim between her legs. She’s squeezing her breast again, and then her mouth is around the other’s nipple, rolling her tongue around it, and Sylvie lets out a loud moan she’d almost be embarrassed about if it didn’t feel so good. Kim works her like this for god knows how long before switching.

And then Kim is once again pulling away and Sylvie pouts, to Kim’s amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Kim coos at her. “I’m just taking off your jeans so I can fuck you with my mouth.”

Sylvie never knew hearing Kim swear could sound so hot.

“Your jeans too. I was you as naked as I am,” She doesn’t know how she still has brain power to compose thoughts, focused so much on the needy ache in her body.

Kim steps off the bed so that she can shimmy off her jeans. Her panties match the bra she was wearing and Sylvie couldn’t even describe how much that made her desire spike. She wonders if Kim was working today and if she changed before going to Molly’s—curious to know if Kim wore such lacy stuff to work.

Surely not? Sylvie sure as hell doesn’t, let alone wearing a matching set.

“Like what you see?” Kim flirts before climbing back onto the bed, immediately getting to work on helping Sylvie get off her own jeans. There’s a moment when they’re off that Sylvie gets momentarily self conscious of her near-naked body, but then Kim’s running a finger along her panties again, pressing down on her clit through the fabric.

The sound it elicits from her is a mix between a gasp, moan and whine.

“Kim,” Sylvie practically begs as she releases the pressure, resuming to gentle barely there strokes as she returns her mouth to her breasts, collarbone and neck. Kim seems to get the message because then she’s—with skill that makes Sylvie wonder just how many times Kim has done this—hooking her fingers around her panties and taking them off.

She doesn’t hesitate to resume her actions, now without the fabric in the way. Kim dips a finger inside her, her thumb brushing against her clit with differentiating levels of pressure and Sylvie can’t help but shut her eyes and moan at the sensation, Kim working her with her talented fingers.

“You’re so wet,” Kim whispers into her ear, nibbling against her jawline before adding another finger. She laughs hotly against her as Sylvie tightens, squeezing Kim’s fingers. She’s just about used to the feeling, and the motions, a pressure inside her building, but then Kim’s pulling them out and she’s whining.

And then Kim’s pulling away from her, and Sylvie just about opens her eyes, lifting up her head, in time to see down her body, looking devilishly. And then Kim’s licking her and it’s everything she’s wanted, needed, and her head is falling back down. Kim works her with her mouth, and all Sylvie can think is about how indeed, Kim is mightily skilled with her tongue.

The tension in Sylvie builds quickly, fast approaching her orgasm, Kim lapping at her and using her fingers to add that extra sensation, rubbing and pinching, alternating between making she’s in place and fondling her breasts and Sylvie’s gripping at her covers, gasping and whining as she writhes, overwhelmed at the sensations.

All thoughts have left her mind, and all Sylvie can focus on is the quick approaching climax, not caring about how lost in it she must be—not caring how loud she’s being, how unfiltered and uncontrolled she is, just focused on how good Kim is making her feel.

And then she reaches her climax, Kim is taking her over and she gets her wish—it’s everything Sylvie has needed, and she screams, full of ecstasy, her body overcome with sensation, toes curling as she comes around Kim’s tongue, the brunette continuing to lap at her, guiding her through her orgasm.

“That...” Sylvie pants as soon as she can. “That—exactly what I needed.”

It’s not perfect grammar, but she thinks Kim gets it, if how she smiles and moves so she’s cuddling against Sylvie, is any indication.

#kim burgess #sylvie brett #chicago pd #Chicago fire #kim burgess x sylvie brett #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago fire fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.smut #ree.wlw

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rexuality · 3 years ago

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Okay I'm on my break!! I will try my best to kinda give y'all an idea of what's been going on because fuuuuuckkkkk 🥵🥵🥵

So Kai and I celebrated our 6th anniversary a month ago and it was around this time we both started fantasizing about a third partner. Right now we just want a casual kitchen table fwb ya know? Someone we can play board games with or cuddle and watch movies and then fuck, should the mood strike. This is a relatively common thing for couples to fixate on but we did a ton of research and wanted to go through it the right way, the most comfortable way. When I was single and bisexual I had couples prey on me and I absolutely hated it. They were never transparent about it. They tried getting me trashed, not mentioning their SO and then springing it on me, or they'd have the female partner try and seduce me and then mention that we could only play if their man was allowed to watch. I've also had plenty of girls use me as an opportunity to try and show off in public, they made kissing me a spectacle. It was awful, and I was too young to understand how fucked up that is. It made me feel like very few women have ever actually been attracted to me, they just wanted to exploit my bisexuality.

I told him if we were going to explore this, we had to be mindful, slow, and patient. I never ever wanted anyone to feel like I did. We thought the best way to do it was to allow each other free reign, essentially. He seeks out his own interests and I seek out mine, communicating every step of the way. I've never been a jealous person so the idea of him being intimate with another woman doesn't bother me. I think anyone who makes him happy and feel good about himself is on my side. I know that's a strange way to feel. He has never had the best self-esteem and he hates on himself all the time. I would love any opportunity that helps me change his mind. I also think it's hot! I love women and I love him. I'd love to watch something that beautiful! (If given permission!!)

This big of a decision forced us to have big conversations, a lot of heart to hearts. It made us closer, and we were both struck very hard with the eagerness to be married. We want to elope on Prince Edward Island. It was his idea, because he knows how much Anne of Green Gables means to me.

As for him, he said that I'm allowed to be intimate with whoever I want but I'm only interested in women and nb folk. I don't feel a pull towards other cis men at all. I mostly just really miss soft skin and lips 🥺

If we are lucky, maybe one of these people will be interested in both of us, but we are never ever going to force it.

I have a a few art shows coming up in October. Very big events. I'm hoping to use the money we make to fund our elopement ❤

Also... our sex life is better than it has ever been. We've been on dating apps for a bit and every conversation has been so thrilling, it has absolutely set us ablaze. We're trying new things, new kinks, dirty talking more. It's been fucking incredible.

I love him so much. He is my life partner, my home, the one who makes the mundane feel so important and meaningful. I know most people would never ever share the one they love and I totally understand that. I know it's not for everyone. But our bond is unshakeable. I just wanted you all to know that throughout these next few chapters of my life, he's always my number one and my favorite person to hold and kiss. I'll tell you more soon ❤

#rex and kai #please don't be mean 😭#poly related

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lostinmirkwood · 4 years ago

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Rinkside

Find it on AO3 here.

It’s not often that Arya gets to go to a hockey game anymore. Between classes for her Master’s degree, work, and the ticket prices it never seems to work out in her favor. But when Ned wins a pair of tickets to tonight’s Storm’s End Lightning game and offers to take her with him she jumps at the chance. Ned knew how much she loved hockey and she was ecstatic when he thought of her first to take with him.

“Want a beer?” he asks as they find their seats. She takes a moment to survey her surroundings, they weren’t the best seats in the house, but they were free.

“Sure, but just the one, and some popcorn too if it’s not too much trouble!” He smiles at her and takes off to get drinks and snacks for them before the game starts.

While waiting for the lights to dim and the music to start she looks around at the people that are slowly filling in around them. The sight of children bundled up like small marshmallows against the chill of the arena, their parents arms loaded with popcorn and sodas makes her smile at the memories of going to games with her father and brothers at the Winterfell Ice Arena growing up. A couple of guys in jerseys fill in behind them, loudly talking about the upcoming wedding of one of them, a father is explaining the basics of the game to a little girl with blonde pigtails in the row ahead, and two seats down from her sits a man in a nice business suit. Her eyes linger on him for just a moment and she wonders if they’ve met before, and why he’s wearing a suit to a hockey game. There’s something that is vaguely familiar about his messy black hair and icy blue eyes. He’s quite attractive and when she catches his eye they exchange a small smile before she quickly looks away with a slight blush.

Ned returns just as the lights dim, handing her a beer and a small bag of popcorn, a tray of nachos in his other hand. They stand and clap as the music begins and the players make their way onto the ice.

“Thanks for bringing me,” she says as they sit back down.

“Well, I know how much you love it. The pictures at your desk speak for themselves! It must be your Northern blood, I don’t know how you aren’t freezing,” Ned is bundled in a scarf, and hat with gloves poking out of the front pocket of his heavy sweatshirt.

Arya internally rolls her eyes but smiles at him, Dornishmen . The arena isn’t that cold. “I do love a good game.”

Ned grins back before saying, “I’m not very familiar with all of this like you. We don’t play ice sports in the south. You’re going to have to help me out here.”

“Ned, we are in the south. And Sunspear has an ice hockey team.”

“Everything’s south to you, Stark. Plus we only got a hockey team five years ago. Point still stands, the game?”

“What do you want to know? Ask and I’ll answer.” A small huff of laughter to her right causes her to look over quickly. The man in the suit is looking at her directly, a grin on twitching at the corners of his full lips. She furrows her brows for a moment at him before turning her focus back to Ned and the ice, a brief grumble in her mind that he was laughing at her. “Girls know sports too, stupid,” she thinks before putting him out of her mind.

The first period is uneventful, not even a fight on the ice to liven things up. The score stands at zero-zero. Of course, the one game she can attend would be boring. During the intermission they make their way to the concession stand, Ned grabbing another beer and Arya getting water and some Twizzlers, her favorite hockey game snack from when she was a child. One their way back to their seat she notices the dark haired man in the suit is no longer alone, another man in an equally nice suit has joined him. He’s tall and thin with curly red hair and also looks familiar, but she can’t quite place either one of them.

Not even three minutes have passed in the second period when one of the Lannisport Lions slams a Lightning player into the boards. The crowd boos as the player lays on the ice for a moment to catch his breath before shakily getting back to his skates, the boos get even louder when the referees don’t call a penalty.

“Oh come on!” Arya shouts as she stands, throwing her arms in the air, “that’s boarding!”

“What’s boarding?” Ned asks.

“It’s when a player pushes another into the glass unnecessarily rough. It’s a five minute penalty for the Lions but these refs just screwed us out of that opportunity for a power play.”

A deep voice from her right comments, “It would’ve only been a minor.”

She turns to see both men looking at her, a pair of blue eyes twinkling from under the fall of dark hair.

“A minor?” she challenges, “he was almost unconscious!”

“Yeah, but he’s not bleeding,” Blue Eyes grins at her. She stares him for a moment before glancing back at his red haired friend to see him grinning as well. She gives them a curt nod before turning her focus back to the game.

“What’s his problem?” Ned murmurs. Arya just shakes her head.

By the end of the second period the Lightning are down by two.

“Sorry,” Ned says as they watch the Zamboni chug around the rink. The little pigtailed girl in front of them is asleep against her father’s arm.

“What for?” Arya asks.

“For the game being a crappy one,” he smiles at her, and she smiles back.

“You can’t tell the future Ned, so don’t apologize. I’m very happy to be here. I haven’t been able to go to a hockey game in a few years.” Arya hasn’t been able to make it home to Winterfell since she started her Master’s program and the Winterfell Wolves haven’t played the Storm’s End Lightning in Storm’s End at a time when she wasn’t drowning in exams, papers, and work. Not even the chance to see Robb on the ice could manage to pull her away from the pressing demands and deadlines of her job and school work as much as she would have loved to go.

The third period starts and five minutes in the Lions score another goal. That’s when the Lightning forget about playing to win and start playing for revenge. The first instance comes in a small skirmish that results in minor, two minute, penalties for both teams. As soon as those are over another skirmish breaks out, this time turning into an all out brawl.

“Kick his ass!” Arya yells, standing and cheering as helmets and gloves go flying and sticks are dropped to the ice. Ned looks taken aback by the sudden outburst of violence from her.

“You like the fights?” he asks.

“Like? Are you kidding, they’re the best part!” She shouts again as the Lightning player finally gets the upper-hand and sends the Lion skidding across the ice.

“It’s a shame Waters isn’t playing tonight.” Arya turns to her right to see the redheaded man grinning up at her. The dark haired man beside him is giving him an inscrutable look.

She sighs internally and takes the bait, “And why is that?”

“He would have had Marbrand knocked out in half the time. Lemoncloak isn’t nearly as good at fighting as Waters is.”

Arya scoffs, “Lemoncloak might not be as good at fighting, but at least he’s not an absolute asshole like Waters is. Have you ever seen how he fights? I mean, I’m all for getting down and dirty on the ice but there’s a line and he crosses it every time. It’s like he gets off on it,” she says, making an obscene jerking motion with her hand. “There’s a reason the fans chant “Ice Cold” when he takes the ice.”

The two men share a look and a smile. “What? You disagree?” Arya asks.

“Well, I disagree,” the dark haired man replies, “but it’s nice to know what other people think.”

Arya raises an eyebrow at him before turning her attention back to Lemoncloak and Marbrand being ejected from the game. When it’s all over Storm’s End has lost 4-1. Arya sighs as she and Ned pick up their trash to toss on their way out. She notices an odd look on Ned’s face and turns to see the dark haired man standing right behind her, towering over her.

“Is it a habit of yours to hover behind people?” she asks, looking up and up his firm chest to meet his icy blue eyes. She hadn’t quite realized how tall he was folded into the stadium chair near her.

“Just the ones I find interesting,” Arya narrows her eyes at him as he sticks out his hand, “I thought we should meet properly. Gendry Waters, left defenseman, ‘the guy who gets off on fighting’.”

Arya blushes furiously, swallowing hard and fumbling for a second as she puts her small hand into his massive one, “Arya,” she grits out, “and I’m sorry about that. If I had known…”

“You would have kept it to yourself? Where’s the fun in that?” He grins at her, perfect white teeth glinting in the arena lights. He must be fucking with her, she thinks.

“Okaaaay… This is sufficiently awkward. I’m going to go,” she pulls her hand free to gesture over her shoulder to where Ned is probably standing staring at the two of them. She had temporarily forgotten there were people around. Her hand feels cold for a moment without his warm palm around hers.

“Wait,” Gendry says, “this asshole is Anguy Archer, right wing.”

“Hi,” she says, waving awkwardly. The redhead flashes her a bright smile and a wave.

“We’re gonna go out with the guys and get a beer. Would you like to join us?” Gendry asks.

Her heart races for a moment. She’s intrigued by this man in front of her, but she came here with Ned, it would be insanely rude to ditch him.

“Your boyfriend can come too,” Anguy pipes up from behind Gendry’s massive shoulders.

“Oh, he’s, he’s not my boyfriend, we’re coworkers,” she says entirely too fast. The smile that breaks out across Gendry’s face makes her blush again.

He leans down so only she can hear him, the smoky leather smell of his cologne washing over her and making her dizzy, “That’s good to hear.” As his breath whispers across her ear a wave of goosebumps erupts across her arms. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, feeling very shy all of a sudden. He smiles at her one more time before turning to walk away. She fights down the urge to call out to him and turns back to Ned.

Over her shoulder she hears Gendry one more time, “If you change your mind we’ll be at Seaworth’s on the waterfront.” She glances back to see him give her a half smile that makes her insides squirm before he turns and walks away. She keeps her eyes on him as he goes, taking in the stretch of his suit jacket over his shoulders, his firm athlete’s ass, and the long stretch of his well muscled legs that his suit pants only highlight.

Ned awkwardly clears his throat.

“Sorry,” she says, “That was weird, right? I just… uh…”

“Yeah,” Ned drags the word out, “he seemed a little… friendly.”

“Uh, sure. Very friendly.”

“Did you want to go? We can if you want to?”

Arya thinks about it for the moment, Gendry’s dizzying blue eyes and enticing smell drift across her mind. The thought of sitting in a dark pub booth with him, his large, warm hand on her knee under the table. She reigns it in before the thought gets too far.

“No, no. Let’s just go. I have some edits to make on a paper when I get home anyway.”

She saves for a single ticket. It takes her over a month to set enough aside. She’s not sitting in the cheap seats this time, she wants to be rinkside where he could see her, to see if there was something there. If he recognized her she would take it as a sign She spent almost half an hour staring at the seat map when she went to buy her ticket before deciding that directly across from the player’s bench was where she needed to be. She prays that he’ll be playing against Oldtown tonight, since he’s fresh off a three game suspension. She puts on some light makeup, throws on her Lightning sweatshirt, and makes her way to the stadium.

The lights dim, the music starts, and she holds her breath as the players make their way onto the ice. She smiles when she sees him suited up in the dark blue Lightning jersey, his eyes piercing even from across the ice. This is going to be a good night. When the announcers call out the opening line-up she chants, “Ice cold! Ice cold!” with the rest of the crowd when his name is called for Left Defenseman.

She doesn’t pay much attention to the game, just to the dark haired man with the blue eyes. She finds herself watching his every move, calculating hits like he does, cheering when he does his job clearing the puck from near the Lightning goal and using his massive frame to keep the Oldtown center at bay.

Two periods pass with the Lightning up 2-1. He’s not even so much as looked up into the stands in that time. Maybe this was a bad idea, she thinks, and she should have gotten a ticket closer to the bench. She could have tried to yell over the glass at him then. But it would have taken her weeks longer to save enough to sit there, and to finagle time in her busy schedule to come.

He makes his way onto the ice again, and she watches as he does what he does best, blocking the other team’s offense from scoring a goal. What no one expected was for the play to shift quickly to the other end of the ice. The puck finds its way in front of his stick and with a practiced flick of his wrist it bounces off an Oldtown defensemen’s skate and into the goal, earning a point for Storm’s End.

She jumps from her seat, screaming with the rest of the crowd as he looks on in shock. It’s not his job to score and she can see the surprise written across his face. His teammates skate to him to congratulate him, and for the first time all night he looks up into the crowd, right into her grey eyes. Their eyes lock and her breath catches in her throat as the noise of the arena fades away. He smiles that half smile around his mouthguard as gloves smack his helmet and back but he doesn’t seem to notice. He makes his way back to the bench, not taking his eyes off her for the rest of the game. She can barely look away to the rest of the game either.

At the end of the game he skates onto the ice, over to the edge where she is waiting to make her own way to the boards. A few kids pound on the glass at him and he responds by slapping into the boards at them. They holler and laugh and she can tell it’s made their night. When the crowds finally thin she makes her way to him and gives him a big smile, he grins back, his mouthguard hanging free and giving her the full effect.

“Seaworth’s?” he yells through the glass to her, and she nods. “Thirty minutes,” he shouts again, taking off his glove and holding up three fingers. She nods again, smiling, and watches him skate off the ice.

Her heart pounds nervously as she stands outside the pub. She’d never been here before but had looked it up after he’d mentioned it at the last game. The owner of the pub had a long history with the Storm’s End hockey team and it wasn’t unusual to find several large, sweaty hockey players there after their games according to the internet. She only wanted to find one large, sweaty hockey player and it looked like she was in luck.

She notices Anguy first, and he gives her a knowing smile as he walks to the door, “Couldn’t resist some Ice Cold Waters?” he says, winking as he pulls the door to the pub open. She resists the urge to check him into the doorframe as he passes her.

“Hey.” She turns to see Gendry, standing behind her, a wide grin on his face as his dark, damp hair curls around his ears, his blue eyes shining in the dim street light.

“Hi,” she says quietly. He stares at her for a long moment before gesturing towards the door. They find the rest of the team crammed into several booths near the back celebrating their win, pitchers of beer and plates of food scattered between the tables. They squeeze in along an empty bench, thighs brushing beneath the table.

He leans in close to her, breath tickling her ear as he quietly says, “I have to ask. How come you didn’t recognize me?”

She turns to look at him, her nose nearly brushing his cheek with how close his face is to hers, “What do you mean?”

“At the first game. You clearly know your shit when it comes to hockey, so I was curious.”

She looks up into his eyes and he smiles at her. The smell of his cologne tickles her nose and she has to stop herself from climbing into his lap right there in front of his team.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a neanderthal out there on the ice. Sweaty, testosterone fueled, black mouthguard, black eyes, broken noses, eye grease. I barely recognize my brother when he’s geared up and in the moment. You were… definitely not that that night. I was expecting at least some missing teeth or something. Also you looked distractingly nice in a suit, which totally threw me off.”

“I looked nice?”

Arya blushes and nods, leaning in close to him, “Very nice. I couldn’t help but stare at your arse as you walked away.”

Gendry raises a dark brow at her and gives her a very slow once over of what he can see of her on the pub bench next to him, his eyes darkening as he looks her over, mentally supplemented by what he saw as he approached her outside the pub. She’d ditched her Lightning sweatshirt in her car and was wearing a dark top and skinny jeans, a hint of pale skin peeking out from below the hem of her cropped shirt.

“You look nice too,” is all he manages to say, his voice barely a step above a growl.

Arya raises a challenging eyebrow back at him, “Thank you.”

Their attention is called away from each other but the electricity continues to spark between them as their hand brush grabbing for beer and bar snacks. They talk hockey with the team, Arya revealing that she roots for Storm’s End because she lives here but will always be a Winterfell Wolves girl at heart. She can’t help it, the north is in her blood and her brother Robb plays center for the team.

Gendry leans down to murmur in her ear at that, “So what happens when they play here?”

She glances at him from the corner of her eye and drops her hand high on his leg below the table, “I cheer for the Wolves, but I might cheer a bit for you too now.”

“Just me?”

A sly smile creeps across Arya’s face, “Just for you,” she squeezes his leg before removing her hand and deliberately reaches across him to spoon a bite of dip onto a cracker, her shoulder and back brushing his chest as he rumbles quietly and splays a warm hand across her back, a few of his fingers brushing her bare skin as her top shifts with her movement. She settles back and feels a flash of triumph as Gendry doesn’t move his hand.

Anguy catches her eye at one point and winks at her, nodding his head towards Gendry who has barely taken his eyes off her all night. She’d caught a few of his other teammates glancing between the two of them and giving each other knowing smiles and subtle elbows as they leave the two of them in their bubble.

Eventually Arya sees the time as someone’s phone lights up on the table. It was past 11pm and she has work in the morning and a class in the evening. “It’s getting late,” she says with a sigh, “I have to get going. I’ve had a long day and I have an even longer one tomorrow.”

Gendry’s hand briefly strokes her spine before he slides out from the edge of the bench. He reaches a hand down to her, the sparks they’d been feeling all night lighting up as they touch. Gently, he pulls her off the bench and into his space before taking half a step back and staring down at her, not dropping her hand. She squeezes his hand before lacing their fingers together. Turning back to the table she says her good-bye to the team members she’s spent the last few hours with and leads Gendry from the pub.

The street is cool and quiet after the closeness of Seaworth’s. Slowly they walk hand in hand to her car, Arya trying to stretch their remaining time together by digging in her bag for her keys. She’s enjoyed her evening and Gendry’s company and despite her long day tomorrow she isn’t ready for the night to end.

Gendry breaks the quiet, “I’m really glad you were able to come and we got to do this,” he says softly.

Arya sighs, “Me too.”

“Could we… Would you want to see each other again? Without those louts around thinking they’re being subtle?” There’s a hint of doubt in his voice, like he maybe thinks she only came out to the pub to meet the team. It’s adorable that he could possibly think she’d come out for the rest of those idiots and not for the idiot standing in front of her shuffling his feet nervously.

“I’d like that a lot,” she says, with a smile.

“Even if I’m that guy who ‘gets off on it’?” his sharp smile flashes in the light of the street.

Arya groans and covers her face with her free hand, “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” he says, warmly. He steps closer to her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him, chasing away the cool, damp air of the Stormland’s night.

She looks up at him, his face is serious as he stares down at her, his blue eyes almost black in the street light. She’s caught in his gaze before her eyes drift down to his lips for just a moment before darting back up. He licks his lips and she wants nothing more than to feel them against her own. Feeling bolder than she ever has she stands on her tip-toes and presses her mouth to his. His arms wrap around her instantly and she runs a hand up his jaw to bury it in the hair at the back of his neck, her other braced on his chest over his racing heart as they kiss like their lives depend on it. Like the other is air and water and all those other life-giving requirements.

She lets out a soft sigh as she pulls away slowly, his mouth chasing hers as she drops back to her feet. Gendry’s arms stay wrapped around her, holding her tight against him as they stare at each other, chests heaving.

“Shit,” he says through panting breaths, and she giggles, “I mean, yeah. That was, yeah.” He nods vaguely, looking shell-shocked. He smiles down at her, a faint blush across his cheeks visible even in the low light.

Arya nods, “I agree. Wow.”

“You sure you have to go?” He keeps smiling at her as she groans and drops her head to his chest.

“Yes. I have work and class tomorrow and I do need to get some sleep tonight. But,” she lets go of him with one hand to dig in her bag again. With a small, triumphant, “Ha!” she pulls her phone out and unlocks it, pulling up the dial screen and hands it to him. He loosens one arm from around her to enter his number in, pressing send and hanging up when he feels his own phone buzz in his pocket. Arya returns her phone to her bag and pulls out the keys that were clipped to the strap on top the whole time. She unlocks her car and moves to step out of his arms. Gendry pulls her in for one final, fiery kiss before letting go of her and opening her car door for her.

“Arya?” he says, just before she closes it.

“Yeah?” she looks back at him, he’s tucked his hands into his pockets, his hair is in disarray from her fingers, and his lips look a little swollen. He’s never going to hear the end of it when he gets back to his teammates.

“I’m really glad you came out tonight.” He smiles one final, brilliant time as she closes the door and starts her car. He stays there on the sidewalk as she pulls out into the street and begins to make her way home. When she gets there she pulls out her phone and opens the most recent call to an unknown number. Pulling up the text box she types, “I’m really glad I came out tonight too”.

#gendrya #gendrya fanfic #meet cute #hockey player gendry #hockey fan arya #convenient platonic plot device ned dayne #I'm recovering from my second major surgery this year and needed something sweet #sweaty hockey playing gendry is what i needed #gendry waters #arya stark #my writing

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aqua-dolly-bride-desactivated · 3 years ago

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1, 5 and 22

Love ya~

@maria--bride

1. Who is your favorite Sakamaki?

[*Cassandra sits down on a chair and think well her response for a lo~ng time*]

Well... you ask me a very difficult question, do you know? It could be a shield and also a dagger! But I guess it would be only between us...

[*deep breathe, opens her mouth to answer*]

Iー

Pffー

[*laughs*]

Even though it is so difficult! It is not like I cannot choose one above all, I cannot choose one!

[*chuckles*]

I am kidding, well... it does not totally a joke... I guess I am not good at jokes.

I am not the kind of person that think in absolute responses, so, I shall tell you what I think and why.

I have two favorites, and this actually causes me a lot of troubles... I like Shu-san and Reiji-sanーー but not that way! I meanー they are handsome, but everyone know that Sakamaki brothers are good looking men. I like them because their behaviors.

Shu-san is a lazy man, that is true, and I also know about people that is always telling me that lazy people is... 'trash'? It was the word...? It does not matterーー Shu-san is a lazy man but, to me, it means that he is the most close representation of a free man. He always does whatever he wants, and look at him! He knows about a lot of things too! He is always there, not bothering anyone, not being noisy, not being bad with anyone at least you bother him. He does not support the order but neither the chaos. He is in the line of calmness and equilibrium. Also he has a particular and very good musical fancy. I enjoy to pass time in silence with him, it is very relaxing. It is like...being in a paradise corner in middle of the chaos. Simply pleasant.

And Reiji-san... do you actually watch how he is? He is always so perfectionist, I actually want to know how he could be like that! Even if I try and try I cannot be in the same level that he is. It is like... when you see the sunshine? Even if he looks more like a dark knight. He is always awesome, it does not matter what do you want him to do. Nonetheless, he is always learning something new, and looking for use his knowledge to solve problems. That is very impressive! So gentlemany and intelligent. I could expend hours and hours learning from him. Take time to understand the world and have his point of view, it is just perfect. I can feel that the knotty world where we live is less tangled when I am with him.

ーー Ah! I just remembered that Reiji-san is the one that calls 'trash' to Shu-san!

But, I guess that none is perfect, and people have their own point of view of what is correct or not, and reality, as philosophy always says, is not the same to everyone. But, even so, I found amazing people inside of both of them, and I want to spend time with whoever of them as much as I live.

5. Who is your favorite parent?

That is easy! My favorite parent was my father!

My father always wanted me as a intelligent and talented woman. Whatever I wanted to learn he always helped me to get information. We read books together, we talked about whichever topic, he encouraged me to paint...

It is amazing how one person can change all your world. My father was part of me little bubble, and he taught me the most important thing: how to dream.

22. Which brother is more like you?

Which one...

Hum... Ruki-san I guess? We have a lot of things on common. We are quiet people -I am quiet the most part of time-; we appreciate romantic details; also we like romantic novels; we like puzzles and we get obsessed with it; we take care to other people, even more if we love them; we are sensitive, we always watch how our fellow feels...

But those are just... coincidences. Even with, that we are such different one to each other...

Even so, we spend time together and we enjoy our company, feeling attracted by the same type of things, sharing new things...

ーー Also! Some friend told me once that I seem like Kou-san!

[*chuckles*]

But it does not mean that we are brothers or something. We are just blond people with the same hair-style haha.

#ask #dl game #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ruki mukami #past things #((omg those questions took me so long))#((those are such hard confessions))#((love ya too~~))

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ruewrites · 3 years ago

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Hi!!!!! I absolutely loved all of we're blooming together and everything else in the series, do you think we could maybe get some of the story from solomon's POV?

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3122

Warning: None

A/N: Hello Hello! Thank you so much for requesting this! It was wonderful coming back to this AU! I hope you enjoy this little perspective from Solomon's point of view. I'm always down to revisit WBT if you guys ever want to see anything else!

Solomon couldn't exactly remember when he'd started having feelings for his best friend. Probably around highschool? Late middle school? Whatever the case, Solomon had known he liked him, but he had some problems.

One. All of Asmo's partners were beautiful and charismatic and usually had some sort of high standing. It wasn't that Solomon was not popular so to speak but he wasn't the captain of the football team or the cheerleading team, he didn't have lots of ins to big fancy parties, and he wasn't extremely social. He noticed things about them, things he believed he could never measure up to, but he was always there for Asmo no matter what happened, advising him after fights and helping him through breakups. Not that he minded, he knew Asmo would do the same for him given the chance. It's how they functioned.

Two. His family. They knew he was attracted to women, but as far as he knew they had no clue that he also had feelings for men. Ash, his old caretaker, was the only one who Solomon knew about his feelings towards men. They’d raised him, they knew. It wasn't that he thought they'd react poorly, he just didn't know how they'd react. He saw them so rarely anyways that he figured it just didn't matter. They could figure it out after he moved out. Not to mention, finding other men to ask out was hard, especially when he kept thinking of Asmo. Women were easier for him to date. He often didn't have to question if they were attracted to him or if they wanted to date him.

Three. Asmo was his first childhood friend. His best friend.

He’d been the first friend Solomon had ever had, and Solomon had never been this close to anyone. Their relationship was special, something sacred.

So much was on the line.

He stopped dating all together after they left for college. He knew he liked Asmo too much at this point. It would be unfair to anyone else he did try to date.

So when Asmo broke up with his last ex, Solomon got an idea.

He gave him a little bit of time wanting to make sure that Asmo was okay after the messy breakup that had followed. Solomon had a lot of disdain for his last boyfriend. The man had been a monster. Solomon had had Asmo at his apartment sobbing over the latest argument they'd had. How this man had picked at the smallest insecurity until it burst open allowing blood to flow. Lucifer had been the one to convince Asmo to break up with him, something Solomon couldn't have been more relieved for.

He couldn't stand watching Asmo be stuck in that cycle anymore.

He waited a while before even constructing his first letter.

"You know, you could just tell him," Simeon's voice came as Solomon paced back and forth trying to think of the perfect words, "I think Asmodeus would be delighted to go out with you."

"If only it could be that easy."

"It literally could be that easy."

Solomon fell back onto the couch, mulling over if there was anything else he could or should say before telling Simeon he was done with this letter. He and Asmo had history together. If Asmo didn't want this, it could potentially put strain on their relationship.

"I need to test the waters first to see if he'd even be receptive to someone asking him out."

"And you can't just ask him if he wants to go see a movie with you on the weekend?" Simeon chuckled. Solomon was about to retort, but his friend continued, "Although, from what I've seen of Asmodeus, I think he'll like this."

One letter turned to two.

Two to three.

Three to four.

And so on.

Each time Solomon swore up and down it would be the last one and that he would just tell him. But then Asmo started to get more cuddly, more bold, with him. Each time Solomon lost his nerve.

But seeing how happy the letters made him didn't make him regret a thing.

Then Asmo invited him out, as his model. He couldn't say no. How could he say no? He thought he'd be prepared to see Asmo, but how he couldn't have been more wrong. Solomon's mouth went dry as soon as he opened the door. Staring too long would be impolite, but not taking in every inch of him would have been a crime. Every touch, every caress made Solomon lose his words.

In hopes of loosening up from his anxieties, he drank. He told himself it would only be one fancy drink.

But one became two.

Two became three.

Three became four.

And so on.

Soon his drunken mind had been making (what he thought were) cute little passes at Asmo. Or at least what he thought were cute little passes. His sober mind had later realized that almost falling off of a stool and nearly smashing his face into a counter probably wasn't the most ideal form of flirting. But he was drunk on Asmo just as much as he was drunk off of the alcohol. Then they'd moved to the couch. That closeness had gotten to him. Everything was going perfectly.

Until it didn't.

He thought for sure Asmo would have said no to that woman. Solomon should have said no. He had straight A's. He was in the top of their class. All of his professors told him he had a bright future. He was a smart young man.

But he'd made a very stupid decision.

The young woman had only wanted a dance and Solomon certainly didn't want to put a damper on her night. He figured Asmo would have followed to dance. In a way, he hadn't really known what he'd been agreeing to.

Then she kissed him.

Then Asmo wouldn't speak to him.

Text after text ran through his phone. He knew Asmo had to be getting the texts, he never had his phone off. Yet he wasn't responding, and he wasn't posting on his socials.

So there Solomon sat, dejected and kicking himself in the living room. If only he could go back and redo that night. He'd do it right. He would have asked Asmo out right there on the couch.

"Are you going to stop moping soon? I'd like to clean the living room."

Simeon peaked into the doorway, but Solomon didn't bother looking at him. He could wallow in his own pity and lick his wounds a little more. "I apologize, I can move into my room and continue."

"No you won't," Simeon sighed, taking the seat next to him, "You could just come clean to him. I bet it'd make you feel better."

"He won't respond to my texts. I don't think he wants to see me."

"You could send him another letter."

But what to write?

What could Solomon possibly say to explain himself? The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he’d been toying with Asmo. He kicked himself for having the need to show off and not just asking him out over one of their coffee meet ups. He might have had a better chance then.

He should have kissed Asmo that night.

So he sat hunched over his desk, piles of crumpled up papers sat haphazardly around his trash bin. Nothing seemed right. Flowery language at a time like this just didn’t fit. He wanted to be to the point. He wanted it to be genuine and something Asmo would listen to. That’s when it occurred to him that he just needed Asmo to see him in person. Oh how that thought twisted his stomach into knots. He almost didn’t do it.

It would have been so much easier to admire Asmo from a distance, to slink back inwards and continue to hide himself. But the longing within him hurt, and then the small voice in his head started whispering about how unfair it would be to Asmo. It was already too late to take back everything else he’d said and done; he knew he couldn’t just run away from it. Quickly scrawling out the few words he needed to say. Then, as if to give either one of them one last out, Solomon decided to plant one last letter. He would face death itself in the face and ask Lucifer to deliver the letter for him. Lucifer was protective, and for good reason. Solomon had no clue how he’d react or if he would even deliver the letter. But he would have to trust him.

Everything was so uncertain.

For as long as Solomon could remember, he’d had every step of his life planned out. He’d graduate with high honors from college, go to grad school, get his doctorate, and then teach as a college professor and spend his days responding to emails and grading assignments.

Then he started feeling that funny feeling in his chest, and it scared him. Falling for his best friend and then not being able to shake those feelings had certainly not been in his plans. It wasn’t something he could predict, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Asmodeus was smart and spontaneous. He was bright eyed with big dreams for his future and the only one who really ever got him to stop and think about how he’d reach those dreams was Solomon. He was also the one who always talked Solomon into dreaming bigger.

Solomon wasn’t really sure if he believed in fate or destiny or even soul mates, but perhaps this was it. Maybe life had presented him with the perfect person for him all those years ago. They foiled each other out and balanced. It felt perfect, it all felt perfect. His future now felt hazy and unsure, and while it was a terrifying thought Solomon wasn’t entirely sure he minded. Normally he hated uncertainty, but with Asmodeus he found that he didn’t mind. When they were together everything would be fine, no matter what.

When it came to uncertainty about their relationship, he despised it.

He found his thoughts drifting to their relationship more and more as he wandered through their old playground. The setting sun cast shadows between spots where they used to run and play together. He could still remember Asmo’s favorite hiding spots when they used to play hide and seek together. How he would squeal when Solomon caught him. The spot he used to pick flowers for Asmo was now starting to be taken over by weeds or grasses. Rust even covered the structures he and Asmo used to climb all over. Solomon didn’t even feel like he was there. He felt removed, as if he was merely an outside observer.

As the sun creeped lower and the shadows started to disappear, Solomon had started to become more anxious. Had Lucifer even given Asmodeus the letter? Or had Asmo decided that he was done? His anxieties heightened until they reached a plateau of acceptance as he sat on one of the old creaky swings. He’d have to accept that his relationship with Asmodeus would be nothing more than what it always had been. He could be fine with that. He could learn to be fine with that. They would slowly go back to their normal, and with time they’d laugh all of this off.

But for now, he’d stay right in this spot before maybe heading home in the early hours of the morning. He had made a mistake. He’d have to live with the consequences of that mistake forever.

His fingers gripped the chains tighter.

He almost didn’t lift his head when he heard the gate creak open. Any number of people from any number of backgrounds could be coming in. After all, it didn’t seem like people really came to this park any more. So he kept his eyes trained on his feet as he slowly rocked on the swing.

Back and Forth.

“Solomon?”

His heart stopped and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

Had he really-?

Slowly he lifted his head. If Asmodeus had been a figure of his imagination in that moment, he wouldn’t have been surprised. But he never disappeared.

If only Solomon’s mind could comprehend the next years of his life after that moment. If only Solomon knew how all of his carefully made plans would change. If only he knew how happy the rest of his life would be after that night.

***

“Hellooooo. Earth to Solomon.”

Solomon squinted his eyes as the hat he’d had was lifted from his face and the sun began to assault his eyes. He squinted for a moment before chuckling at the sight before him, “Ah, I’m sorry, did I go somewhere?”

“Seemed like it,” Asmodeus plopped down next to him on their beach towel under the umbrella and let out a sigh. Solomon glanced over him. Asmodeus was wearing a button up with his swim suit. His button up to be more precise.

Solomon reached out to tug at the end of the shit and let out a little hum, “Not like you to cover up at the beach. I thought you liked to soak up the sun.”

“Well I would have, if someone hadn’t been so insistent on marking me up last night,” he huffed, playfully swatting at Solomon’s hand. This only prompted Solomon to scoot closer, to poke at Asmo’s perfectly manicured finger tips. At which point, Asmo took his hand.

Solomon tried to pull him closer, “They look good on you though, and people should know how loved you are.”

“Well, if you really want to show people how loved I am, you could walk with me on the shoreline,” Asmo pecked his lips to end his sentence, giggling at how red Solomon was becoming. Yes he loved being affectionate, but PDA left him feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I told you the ocean isn’t really all that.”

“Solomon!”

“Fish pee in there you know.”

“Please?” Asmodeus pouted, “It’s romantic. We could find shells. Do it for your husband?”

Solomon tapped his fingers against his stomach, a soft hum leaving his lips. He wasn’t fond of the ocean. Asmodeus was the one who thought a trip here would be romantic for their honeymoon, and he hadn’t been wrong. There was a lot to do on the boardwalk and their honeymoon suite had been phenomenal. He just didn’t think he’d be going anywhere near the ocean. But the more Asmodeus looked at him with those eyes, the further away Solomon’s resolve slipped.

Finally he started to get up, “Alright, we can walk by the shoreline, but I’m not getting in the water.”

“Oh of course honey dearest,” the look Solomon received was absolutely devilish. He didn’t really expect anything less of his husband and oh he loved it. He loved everything about him and he knew he was whipped. But he didn’t care. Whatever spell Asmodeus had him under was strong and Solomon knew he could never bring himself to say no. He’d give the world to Asmo if he would only ask.

So there he was, closer to the ocean than he’d like to be, his hands interlocked with his husband as his ring glinted in the sunlight. The water was cold and clear and felt nice on his feet after walking down in the hot sand. Every now and again a tiny sand crab would quickly burrow below or a jellyfish would come close to washing up on the shore. Children made sand castles as their parents watched on and there was a group nearby laughing and playing with a frisbee. Seagulls and other seabirds stayed nearby, looking for the occasional stray fry or unattended sandwich.

Asmodeus had been right. This was wonderful.

He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the week here with his wonderful husband. Solomon squeezed Asmo’s hand, running his thumb over the smooth skin of his hand. “Ah, I almost forgot. I promised you a house didn’t I?”

Asmo’s eyes sparkled when he turned to look at him. They’d been apartment hopping while Solomon finished up his last years of schooling. They’d talked about it ever since they’d gotten engaged. Well, Asmodeus gushed about it. He always said how he wanted to make a home with Solomon, how he wanted a large bathroom and a nice little studio to work on his designs. Solomon had played into it mentioning how he wouldn’t mind having an office space.

“You did.”

“I was so happy being here with you I almost forgot about it.”

“Solomon!”

“I’m kidding,” before he could get the words out, Asmodeus kicked some water his way. Well, of course this was unforgivable. Solomon bent over to splash water up at his husband. Then a war broke out. The two of them continued to throw water at each other, salt splashing on their lips and both becoming completely wet.

“I thought you said you weren’t getting in the water,” Asmodeus giggled as the two of them were waist deep in the ocean. However his giggles quickly turned into squeals as Solomon picked him up and threw them both into the water, his husband clung to him sputtering all the way until their knees could touch the sandy bottom.

“Of course that’s what I said but my husband makes me do crazy things,” he pecked his lips, feeling his cheeks heating up, “You know you ruined all of my perfectly planned out future?”

“Oh did I now?”

“Mmhm,” the two of them slowly made their way back far enough till they could sit on the beach, “I had everything pictured to a t, but then I fell in love with you, and now my future is even more wonderful than I could have ever planned.”

Solomon watched the tears pool at those pretty lashes and his pretty lips pucker out before Asmo lunged at him. The kiss was sweet and heartfelt, and Solomon could taste the salt water on him. The sun outlined him perfectly as he pulled away, and Solomon swore he was staring at an angel.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Solomon couldn’t have imagined a better future than the one he was in now, and he knew that it would only get better from here. Asmo kissed him once more and Solomon felt like he was soaring. When they pulled away Solomon knew he was smiling like an idiot.

“We’re going to make a home together.”

He wasn’t sure how planned the rest of their lives were going to be, but he did know that it would be perfect.

#request #kitto-katsuu #WBT #ruewrites #solodeus #asmodeus x solomon #asmosolo #soloasmo #human!au #friends to lovers #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #obey me simeon

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