#the way I can only see your own on tumblr now

[cannedbananabread]

Heart of Gold- Jonathan Joestar x Reader

word count: 7.1k

CW: smut, size different (c'mon, it's Jonathan), mentions of loneliness, and Dio just being himself

Can also be read on my ao3 if that's your pleasure

A/N: Hiii this is from a tumblr request for hurt/comfort for Jonathan! I know I said I would be taking these on a first come first serve basis but just know that I'm a liar. Really, I wanted to post this since the plot centers around Jonathan's birthday and it's technically still April, so I thought we could still celebrate. Also note that I'm playing fast and loose with Victorian conventions but for all intents and purposes, we're assuming women could attend their university.

Springtime had come to Hugh Hudson Academy and with it, all the gaiety that followed the Easter festivities now that the lengthening days had begun to encroach upon the end of the semester. 

And that feeling of mirth is exactly what should have fallen upon Jonathan Joestar in the early evening hours of what was, all things considered, a perfectly pleasant day in early April. Winter had just waved its final farewell and all around, the earth was beginning to burst into bloom. In spite of the ample pretext for such merriment, Jonathan only felt plagued by an ineffable sadness that left him wandering the soft, verdant grounds of the university alone after such a disagreeable turn of events.

Loneliness had never been a foreign concept to Jonathan, as a child he had often kept to himself with only the companionship of his long-since-departed dog and even into his adolescence, he had never possessed the same proclivity towards fraternization as his social butterfly of a brother. In spite of the wontedness of this particular affliction, there existed certain occasions on which that inestimable loneliness exhibited a more profound effect on him. And, despite his most valiant efforts, today had ended up as one such occasion in which he had been so drearily beleaguered by that nebulous melancholy that, in his despondency, left him with that inescapable feeling of inadequacy that had once been a part of his daily routine. Over the years since his troubles had begun, Jonathan had become quite adept at rising above the challenges that had come his way, but today, it stuck him more virulently than it had in many years and he was left with only his dispirited contemplations. The fragile budding flowers and the golden light of the setting sun only served as a reminder of his insurmountable despair.

The evening had cast long, forlorn shadows across the boundaries of campus that cloaked the entire landscape in a strange and disquieting atmosphere that JoJo found entirely intolerable in his already gloomy state, so much so that he abandoned his excursion altogether and sought solace indoors. 

It was perhaps by some greater force that he was drawn to the same quiet corner of the library where you had spent the entirety of the afternoon pouring meticulously over your studies, with the end of the year approaching there was precious little time to waste before you would be faced with your examinations. Seeing you there, so focused and natural, he felt the first glimmers of hope for regaining a modicum of enjoyment in the final moments of the day.

As if you sensed his presence, you glanced up from your notes and your eyes fell upon him with a look of utter bemusement, as though you had been pulled out of a trance of your own making and were not quite aware of the time of day, “oh, JoJo,” you muttered, half dazed and a bit ill-prepared to entertain a conversation in your addled state, but you were never unwelcoming of your most cherished friend.

“M-my deepest apologies my dear lady, I hadn’t meant to disturb you,” he began, stammering somewhat timorously, and, despite his emphatic attempts to maintain his gallant demeanor, you had noted a solemn dreariness in his usually welcoming eyes  “I… I can tell that you’re busy, I will leave you to your work.”

“Nonsense, JoJo, I always have time for you. Please, sit a while.”

“Are you certain? I would not want to get in the way of your research and it appears as though I’ve already distracted you.”

“Not a bit, you are welcome any time, so please, sit down, stay, and won’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” he said softly and forced a smile that was intended to be one of appeasement, but in actuality, it resulted in a look of greater strain upon his face than he had cared to show. Nonetheless, he took a seat across from you and wilted into his assumed silence, he had already done enough to trouble you, he did not need to weave you a dire lamentation for his many misfortunes which he knew were not so terrible in the grand scheme of things. At present, it was enough for Jonathan to find comfort in the form of a familiar face. 

“Hm, I don’t believe that, the truth is written all over your face.” 

“It really isn’t worth mentioning, my brother and I had made plans for this evening, but something came up and he cancelled, that is all,” he said reassuringly, though you were not sure if the words had been to mollify your curiosity or rather conciliate his own negative feelings. 

“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry for that, it was quite rude of him, to cancel on such short notice. Would you like to talk about it?”

“No, I shan’t want to burden you with my petty troubles.”

“Oh JoJo, you could never be a burden,” you said, hoping your dulcet words would encourage him to be a bit more forthcoming.

“All the same, I’ve already been enough of a disruption to you, I think I would rather allow you to get back to your work.” 

You gave him a slight but curious nod and turned your attention back to the pages you had before been engrossed in. All the while Jonathan eased into his seat and stared vaguely into the distance as though he might find the answer to some grand question that nettled him. But even in those moments of reticence, he could not see anything but dismal uncertainty and he wondered what it was about him that forced him to endure such loneliness. Was he really so unlikeable that no one would want to spend time with him? Were all of his teammates and friends really only tolerating him because they enjoyed Dio’s company? Was he always destined to play second-fiddle to a brother who had such a penchant for attracting both friends and lovers alike?

“What is it, do you think,” he began in a gentle but shaken voice that broke the silence of the library, “that sets Dio apart from me?”

“Hmm,” you pondered for several moments while he looked through you with tired, glassy eyes that gave you the affectation that he was rather near tears, “really, I can hardly say, I don’t know Dio as well as I know you, though, on every occasion on which we have met, he seems the most upstanding and elegant gentleman, not all too different from yourself, though perhaps a bit more given to arrogance than you, but not any less affable. Why do you ask?”

“I see, so that is how it is,” he said in a voice that was more faraway than was typical for him. “Since we’ve known each other, I’ve always felt as though Dio has gotten ahead of me, no matter what I did or how hard I tried, he was better, smarter, stronger, and made more friends than I. I should not be surprised really, everything about him inspires approbation, even I must laud his abundant achievements… sometimes I feel as though everything he tries comes easy to him, a luxury I have never possessed. He’s graduating at the top of our class this autumn, no doubt Father will be pleased. I supposed he has eclipsed me in every conceivable capacity.” 

“Don’t say that JoJo, you’re plenty good at what you do! You’ve thrilled the entire archeology department with your thesis, not many people can boast of that. At any rate, you needn’t be in competition with Dio, you're both so smart and diligent and it has been an honor to know the both of you.”

“I suppose, though I’m not sure I really compare to him at all.”

“Then you simply shouldn’t. I, of all people, understand how sharp Dio is. I took Latin with him last year and I’m certain he had a better grasp of the language than even our professor, but JoJo, he can never take your accomplishments away! You are so smart and wonderful and…” you trailered off, feeling at once, perfectly abashed by the careless adulation you had gotten so carried away with.

“Thank you for saying so. I must admit that it was hard growing up with him as a brother, he excelled at everything, far better than I ever could. It was as though I was constantly trying to catch up to him. Since he’s become a part of my family, all I’ve heard was talk of his many accomplishments when he’s just so…”

“Just so… what?”

“No, I shouldn’t say anything unkind, after all, it was all so frightfully long ago, I haven't any real evidence of the half of it.”

“Tell me, JoJo. You know that you can tell me anything.”

“It is but the remnants of our childish squabbles, and I curse myself for not being able to get over such pettiness. Dio has been nothing but kind to me for the better part of seven years. I should not cling to the past in this way, it’s incredibly unbecoming,” Jonathan said, feeling that old, weatherworn shame creep back into his soul. Dio had been unkind to him, yes, he knew that he hadn’t imagined the whole of his maltreatment, but as the years had gone on, JoJo wondered whether or not he had unjustly blamed Dio for many of the misfortunes in his life, after all, he never really knew what became of Danny and perhaps he could have won Erina back if he had not been so cowardly, and if being honest with himself, he really didn’t have any proof for most of the misdeeds he had attributed to Dio, it seemed just as likely now that it was simply that he had, in his youthful credulity, merely allowed his resentment to get the better of him. That is, in part, why he had made such a valiant effort to consider Dio both a brother and a friend, though in his heart, he knew that he had never quite found the strength of mind to forgive him. “I believe it is solely my own jealousy that blights me so furiously.” 

“But what have you to be jealous of?”

“I… I suppose I always wished that I possessed the same natural ability to make friends as he does; I suppose I have never been as naturally social as he is and…” he paused for a moment and deliberately looked away from you. That horrible feeling of inadequacy clawed in his chest again and he could not stop the deluge of emotion that was ready to spring forward. He covered his eyes with his hand to hide the tears that had begun to stream indelicately from his eyes. “I suppose I just wished that people liked me as much as they liked him.”

“Oh dear, JoJo, please don’t cry!” You said in desperation and immediately found your arms had coiled around Jonathan’s shoulders, hoping, perhaps in vain, that the subtle contact would be enough to allay his sadness even for just a moment, “tell me what happened.” 

“It really is such an unimportant thing,” he began, trying to muster the resolve to tell you something so thoroughly embarrassing, but his voice wavered and everything that followed came out in a mess of indiscriminate sobs, “but Dio had promised that we would go out to celebrate our birthdays with the rest of the rugby team but I suppose he found it more worth his time to spend the evening wooing a girl and naturally, once it had been made known that Dio would not be attending, the rest of the team lost interest as well, so I was left to spend the evening alone.”

“Oh, my, that was awful of him! He really cancelled on your birthday? I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, my actual birthday was Wednesday and, to be fair, my Father did have a small celebration for us while we were home over Easter, I shan’t make you think me more luckless than I am. I do apologize, I really don’t know what has come over me to be affected by so trivial a matter,” he said, mustering another even more glaringly  false smile in order to dispel your worries, “I just wish that I knew what it is that makes me so unlikeable.”

“Oh, JoJo you can’t think that way, you are so far from unlikeable, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. I really… I think you’re brilliant, I think you’re…”

“I think you’re much too kind to me, I know I’ve never been as popular as my brother and I suppose it’s left me feeling insufficient.”

“JoJo, it doesn’t matter if you don’t have very many friends, you still deserve love and kindness and all the good things this world has to offer,” you said vehemently and held tightly to his arm, “and for what it’s worth, you will always have me.”

“Th-thank you,” he stuttered cautiously and blinked away the remaining tears in his eyes, “I hold our friendship in high regard.”

All at once the feelings you had kept locked away inside threatened to burst free. All the feelings you had for Jonathan that lingered, unmet on the outskirts of your relationship whirled through your brain so alarmingly that you thought every disjointed sentiment might spill from you before you had the chance to properly express them.

“I care so very deeply for you, JoJo. Do you understand what I mean?”

”Of course, you are my dearest friend after all,” he said with a fragile smile that hadn’t quite broken through the sadness in his heart. 

You looked on with bleak determination. All that courage you had managed to summon had been for naught, you would have to see the rejection through to the end and accept the lack of reciprocation with grace, no matter the cost to your heart. Though when he looked back at you, his face was so earnest that all you could do was sigh. Perhaps he really hadn’t grasped the meaning behind your words of confession.

Jonathan was that so singular of creatures, he was gentle and gallant and always tried to see the very best in people, even when it was to his own detriment, and that was why you loved him so plainly. Or at least, so it had been perceived by everyone except Jonathan.  In spite of the myriad of ways you had made your feelings known, he seemed blissfully unaware when it came to any matters of the heart. You had begun to wonder if it was mere politesse on his part to spare you your dignity if he did not reciprocate the same romantic intentions or perhaps another effect of his endearing naïveté. 

No matter, you knew your feelings were true, they had been burning for so many years that the thought of another minute passing with them going yet unspoken seemed somehow torturous. So you mustered a brilliant determination from deep in the pit of your stomach to tell him, you had to. This was precisely the moment you had waited years for, you couldn’t allow it to slip carelessly from your fingers, you couldn’t live with not knowing, you had to tell him.  “JoJo, you dolt, for all the brains in your head can you not see that I am in love with you?” You said in reckless honesty and perhaps a shade more vitriolically than grace would have granted you, but you had to force the words out before your better sense had a chance to tell you to dither. 

Jonathan stared back at you quite blankly, in the wake of your divulgence he had not the words to tell you how he felt. Love, to him, had always been a concept that was just out of grasp. He’d tasted it so briefly in his youth, but the entire ordeal had left a bitterness on his tongue that made him tentative to drink from that well again. But there you were, so frightfully close and abundantly earnest in your appeal that he need only reach out and take it and all the luxury of your affection could be his.

“JoJo, did you not hear me? I said that I love you,” you said again, this time with a timid lilt in your soft, breathy voice, almost pathetic voice. 

“I think…” he began, carefully choosing the proper words through the cascade of thoughts that flooded his mind, “I think that…” he trailed off again, the hesitation caused you to tug surreptitiously at the hem of your sleeve so as to conceal the nervous agitation that had fallen upon you in the moments of uncertainty; it was all you could do to keep from running headlong into the deepest fear that he would reject you. You had to hold firm, to love him was to be unwavering in the face of weakness.

“It’s alright, I understand,” you said, forcing a smile. For all the heartbreak you felt brimming in your chest, you did not want to make him feel worse for his lack of reciprocation. Even if he did not love you, he was still the goodliest man you’d ever known and you would hate to be the cause of any further sadness in his life. For you thought you could go on loving him as you did even if he did not feel the same.  

“You… you love me…?” He finally muttered, though his timid voice still shook with uncertainty as he tried to profess his own feelings so openly.

“Of course JoJo, how could I not?”

“Because I… I don’t… could you not find better than me?” He murmured with his shoulders hung low.

Feeling more bold, you approached him and softly laid your hand upon his arm. “Never, there is no one more kind or gentle or deserving of love than you, Jonathan Joestar, and no matter what you say, I really do love you.”  Your eyes meant for a mere fraction of a seconds before he hurriedly looked away with scarlet covering his face. You stood on your feet and stretched upward to caress the side of his crimsoned cheek, “even if you don’t love me.”

“That is not the case!” He shouted suddenly, a bit alarmed by his own exclamation, “I just… I never thought that… I never thought that you would feel the same so I have never put my feelings into words, but I…” all of a sudden he wrapped his big arms around you and buried his face diffidently in the crook of your neck, “I love you, too.” 

“JoJo—!” You exclaimed, starting back in vapid astonishment, you had dreamed so many times of this moment and all the things you would say if your love had been requited, but standing there in the face of reality you were left in stupefied speechlessness, lacking even the most prosaic of expressions to utter. For several seconds that seemed to you, as lengthy as hours, a silence hung thickly like muggy summer air, neither of you darling to speak and mar the momentousness of the occasion. Then, as if compelled by a force beyond your control, he pulled you into his arms with such force that it caused you to crash against his broad chest. 

“I love you,” he repeated and squeezed you tighter until his chin came to rest on the top of your head.

The enveloping warmth of his embrace left you imbued with a sense of contentment that you’d so rarely felt in your life. 

Without wasting another precious second, you jostled free of his grasp and, leaning up on your tallest tiptoes, you pressed your lips ever so softly softly onto his. The tiny action caused his eyes to widen and a soft hue of pink to crawl across his cheeks. 

It took another moment for him to regain what scraps of composure he had, but once he did, his lips crashed onto yours with unbridled fervor as if suddenly all the barriers that had kept his affection at bay had at least been removed and he could express all of his purest devotion. 

When the kiss finally broke you were left needing several moments to catch your breath, but your search for stability did not go unassisted when you felt Jonathan again wrapping his arms around you.

How long you stayed like that, in the quiet of the library, listening to the pounding of his heart, you could not tell, but when next you happened to glance out the narrow mullioned window, you could see that night had fallen upon the entirety of campus.  

“Come now,” You said to break the silence, pulling away from him and placing your hand firmly in his palm, “I’m going to take you out, your birthday deserves to be celebrated properly.” 

So the two of you found yourselves in a little pub just outside of campus that you knew stayed open late. It was not perhaps the most upscale of places and you would have much rather taken him somewhere more suitable to his tastes, but at that hour and without a reservation, there were not many viable options. In spite of that, Jonathan found himself much enjoying it. The two of you were nestled in the farthest corner of the dingy little pub with only the hazy light of the gas lamps and a few errant votives strewn about the tables to illuminate your wary, lovestruck faces.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been to this place before,” Jonathan laughed, feeling jovial for the first time all evening.

“Well, I would assume that a man of such high esteem does not usually dine in such places, so I hope you won’t mind appealing to my distinctly plebeian tastes.”

“You shouldn’t think yourself beneath me in the slightest, I would love to enjoy all of the things you like and I am most grateful that you care for me enough to take me out tonight.”

“Well, I do love you, JoJo,” you said with a sardonic infection, but the sentiment was quite true and the sheepish smile that spread across your face made it all the more obvious.

“I adore hearing you say that,” he said and reached across the table to cup your cheek, “and I love you too.”

After your meal had been shared and longing glances exchanged, you were once again walking back to campus. The air was cool with the sun having long left the sky, but the breeze carried all the loveliness of April's vernal promise. 

There was a hint of unfamiliarity in the way he took your hand and led you down the cobblestone street. You studied the feeling of his large fingers where they pressed against yours and you realized then, just how infrequently you had shared contact like this, even in all the years of friendship, you could only count a few singular occasions on which  “Jonathan,” you began in a tone that was serious but also brimming with sensuality, “let’s go back to your place.” 

Your voice had spun itself into a mesmerizing lilt that he had no choice but to obey, the proverbial siren’s song, your wants were his so long as he was yours. So, with only an understanding nod, he complied.

The two of you stopped on the threshold of the student lodgings that both Jonathan and Dio called home. It was not quite in keeping for a young man to bring a lady home. That you knew well, you could sense in the hesitation and Jonathan fumbled with the key, but in spite of any apprehensions, he did not give a single word of protest as he finally led you inside and up the stairs to his second-floor apartment. 

Jonathan, green though he may have been, was no fool. He knew very well what inviting you into his room entailed and while it was not something he had ever considered, the mutual confession of love had awakened within him, a distant urge that he had often neglected. Sex, by its very nature, was a concept he had only vaguely toyed with and never dwelled upon in any meaningful capacity, that is not to say he didn’t find himself straying into salacious urges when lonely days turned to lonely nights, but any sort of concupiscence did not become him so he had not ever thought of you in that way until precisely this moment but the strength of his desire had won out against his inclination towards gallantry. 

Even the way your fingers grazed over his palm and the brush of your skirt against his leg had been enough to set him ablaze. He wanted you, there was no denying that, he wanted you as he had never wanted another. Wholly and entirely. Beyond the bond that even sex would create, he wanted you to the depths of your soul. He had not known just how unbridled his devotion and been until the words of love had passed his lips. It has been so many years since he’d allowed himself to feel any kind of fancy. In all his wildest dreams he never thought it would ever be his.

The moment the two of you were in his room, the atmosphere felt different. There was something unmistakable and nearly electric that hummed in the air. Perhaps it was the thrumming of nervous hearts or the ripple of brimming energy that was palpable in every minute touch. 

There was little haste in his actions as Jonathan once again drew you in for another deep kiss that rivaled the one you had shared in the library. Even still, you were immediately swept up in the moment, feeling lost amidst the sea of longing you had heretofore tread with delicate care but now, in the wake of having reified your feelings, you had suddenly been plunged in headfirst. 

The vehemence of the kiss only seemed to increase and all the air between you felt suddenly sweltering, you became ever conscious of his hands roving over your body. Strong and protective, they seemed to still your beating heart and ease the troubles that had abounded as you moved to slowly unlace your dress. The heavy fabric tumbled to the floor and pooled at your feet in an ocean of muted linen.

Jonathan stepped back and admired you tentatively, a ruby glow burned his cheeks as he watched you slowly unlace your corset. Your pretty figure seemed all the more ethereal when seen only in the loose, gauzy fabric of your chemise. Perhaps in a show of solidarity, he pulled open his bow tie and clumsily undid the buttons of his shirt until it hung slackly open and framed his well-defined abs.

“JoJo,” said in awe, “you’re so handsome!”

“Do you really think so?” He asked and you nodded, ogling him with big doe eyes as his shirt slipped from the broad expanse of his shoulders, ”it pleases me so to hear you say that,” he said and with all the tenderness of a lamb, he eased you back into his arms and helped you to slip the meager garment over your head. 

Heat bloomed on your skin where his fingers landed, you let out a lascivious gasp, urging him to continue in your state of heightened arousal. But he was slow and gentle, apprehensive in all his touches. Each action was unfamiliar to him and he made sure to study your reactions to ensure that you were alright first and foremost, as such, his hands lingered, heavy on your waist, just tantalizingly far away from any of your more sensitive regions. 

You guided his hand up to your breast to disarm him of his trepidation and looked up at him with wide, eager eyes, knowing that your hope of the expedient sating of your desires would not be met, but it was a price you would pay if it lended him to be more self-assured. You had wanted him for so long, you certainly could wait a few trifling moments while he learned your body. “It’s okay JoJo, touch me, I want you to.” 

He gave a little nod in response and kneaded the soft flesh beneath his firm fingers. You gave a shuddering moan and instantly, you found your hips rolling into nothing in a blind search for something, anything more. “Does that feel good?” He whispered in abashed earnestness as his other hand began to trail arduously along the slope of your leg, stoking the fire that raged within you.

“Yes,” you mewled, desperate to keep your urges at bay just enough to keep yourself from appearing as frightfully uncouth as you felt, but it very quickly presented itself as a losing battle, “keep going, JoJo, please, I implore you,” you whined indignantly.

“May I touch you here?” He asked as his fingers wandered up your inner thigh, stopping just at the precipice of your aching sex.

“Yes JoJo, I don’t want you to stop.” 

Your consent served to embolden him and though the territory he treaded was unfamiliar, his confidence was bolstered by the silky little noises you made for him and, with resolve seemingly enhanced, he shed the final remnants of propriety to which he had been fettered.

It was then with more alacrity that he dipped his fingers between your legs, having abandoned the lingering degree of trepidation once he felt how incredibly wet you were for him. The tip of his finger traced your entrance, spreading your juices enough to allow him entry. He let out a curt exclamation that cemented itself somewhere between surprise and arousal when your tight walls clamped around his thick digit. Your face scrunched up in an effort to adjust to him, though he found the expression quite darling. He committed to a steady but undemanding pace, swirling his thumb over your clit and curling his finger inside you to stretch you open until he was able to add a second. 

“Oh God, JoJo,” you moaned and your head fell back against his pillow, unfurling your hair in a mess of tangled locks. The lustful utterance of his name caused him to shudder, god, he hadn’t been so acutely aware of his own needs until that exact moment. He shifted precariously in his spot and moved to undo the top button of his trousers, it was all he could do to offset his desire, your pleasure was more pressing at the moment, even more so than the ache he felt between his legs.

He watched each of your little reactions intently, the way your chest heaved and your hips rose in tandem with his ministrations and the syrupy arousal that dripped from your cunt like dew. 

Something came over him then, perhaps it was selfishness, but he pulled himself lower and stationed himself at the foot of the bed and looked to you for consent before advancing of his own accord. “May I?”

There was something so innately tantalizing about seeing him, precious gentleman that he was, in such a vulgar position between your thighs, with that same innocent boyish look he habitually wore that was somehow undisturbed in spite of the unseemly behaviors, “you may, JoJo,” you breathed almost deliriously.

With precision you were certain had to be instinctive, his tongue flicked against your clit, starting slow and soft but gaining more vehemence in no time at all, broadly dragging his tongue over the entirety of your pussy. He hummed as he tasted you, so delicately sweet and made all the better by the way you profusely whimpered his name.

With tremendous skill that was not suggested by his lack of experience, he lapped at your pussy, drinking you like a fine, heady wine. It was with only little effort he rendered you an unrestrained, spasming mess of shaky limbs and lewd squeals. 

Your breath came out harsh and ragged, hardly controllable as you fought against the tightness building in your core to keep yourself from coming undone, but that proved an inordinate challenge.

“JoJo, I’m close,” you moaned and he eyed you with a look that bordered on uncertainty but your body’s quaking response served to placate any confusion, “please, god, don’t stop!”

He took your words with the utmost importance and continued with quite the same effectiveness as before but it did not take much more effort for the tension to snap and the blinding glow of orgasm to suffuse your entire being, burning like wildfire across your florid skin.

“JoJo,” you said through a feeble exhale while you tried your best to return to a semi-coherent state, “thank you.”

He smiled brightly and gave a little chuckle as he pulled himself off his knees. “You’re quite adorable,” he beamed and gently trailed the tips of his fingers across your pelvis.

You felt your face heat up with the embers of embarrassment, you should not have felt quite so self-conscious by his remark after he’d already seen you in such a lubricious situation and yet it seemed to fluster you more than any sexual act ever could.

Still holding tightly to your timorous disposition, you glanced up just in time to watch as Jonathan removed the last of his clothes. You sat with bated breath as he rolled his underwear down his thighs hoping for a better view of what you had only gotten a peek at through the constraint of his pants.

His stature alone led you to expect that he would be huge, but not even you couldn’t have guessed how vastly reality would exceed your expectations because he was positively enormous. You stared up at him with a vague look of alarm, a breath caught in your throat and you felt all at once a bit hesitant, certainly he couldn't think all of that was going to fit, could he?

“Do you still wish for me to continue?” He asked as he knelt cautiously over you and held firmly to the base of his cock, eager drops of precum pearled at the tip and cascaded smoothly down the shaft, heightening his anticipation.

You offered him an uneasy nod, you had wanted this for so long that you weren’t about to back out from the formidable impression his length had made upon you.

He granted you a reassuring caress along the side of your waist and lined himself up with your entrance. God, he somehow looked even bigger when held against you, in fact, his entire gigantic frame seemed downright imposing, capable of dwarfing yours completely. 

His hand found your hip, offering enough support for him to smoothly press into you. Though he had amply prepared you, it was still a rather cumbersome task to take all of him. Each inch threatened to push you beyond your limits and it took all you had not to give a lewd shriek of pleasure as your tight walls spread around his daunting girth.  “A-are you alright?” He stuttered sheepishly with a look of concern in his eyes as though dreaded by the thought that he may accidentally hurt you.

“Yes… but, please, you’re so big, just go slow.”

He nodded determinedly and deliberately modulated his pace to ensure you were comfortable, though the little plea you had so earnestly squealed served more to fuel the newfound sense of pride that swelled in his chest and he felt, at last, completely organic in his actions. 

He immediately gleaned enjoyment from the tightness of your cunt. You were so soft and warm around him, it might have been the closest thing to bliss he’d ever felt. “Dear, you feel amazing, just perfect for me,” he crooned as his arms slowly curled around your chest in an embrace, it was the act of holding you as close as he was able that allowed for a more intimate position and through each slow thrust of his hips, each sensation was redoubled.

“JoJo—” you mewled insensibly, your mind was far too dizzy from your previous release and the pleasure of being around him to muster any further intelligible response. He had only just begun to fuck you and your back was already arching desperately off the mattress to meet his every thrust.

“I love to hear you say my name,” Jonathan said as sweetly as he could through gritted teeth,  “please, say it again.”

“JoJo!” You cried, heeding little, the possibility of being heard from the neighboring room, “JoJo, you feel so good!”

“That’s right, my love, and look at you, taking me so well, so beautiful.”

The rhythm of his thrusts became more frantic and harsh. The strength of his hips kept you pinned to the mattress as he pounded into you with far less grace than he started with.

There was little your small figure could do to compete against the more hectic movements of his massive frame but vacillate between incessantly clawing at his shoulders and pliantly accepting him until that familiar heat began to bubble again in your abdomen, twisting you like a tightly wound spring that threatened to pop at any given moment.

Your breath came out in hot plumes that melted against his chest. He was so deep within you that, even with the slight restraint of your legs coiled around his waist, every thrust left you feeling overwhelmingly full and damn near delirious each time he hit one particular spot. You were virtually powerless to combat the sensation that suddenly overcame you, a blaze of white-hot pleasure burned from inside out as you came entirely undone, letting out a litany of curses that accompanied disjointed words of satisfaction, it was altogether a terribly unladylike scene, but you hadn’t the mind to care, all you feasibly make sense of was the brilliant sensation that had befallen you. 

He held onto your hips to keep you steady as he continued to drive somewhat haphazardly into you, fucking you through the final aftershocks of your orgasm, he was certain of your pleasure so he could, at last, focus on finding his own. Of course, after how tightly you had been squeezing him, it was not too far off, the ungodly feeling of warmth that had filled him since the moment he’d been inside you had finally proven too much for him to contend with and he couldn’t longer stave off the desperate need that had bloomed in him. It only took a few more labored thrusts for him to reach his peak, finally cumming into you while he moaned your name in such a pleasing tone that you felt your walls again clamp around his sensitive cock.

“I’m sorry,” he said, panting frantically as he came down from his climax and pulled out of you, “I hope I was not too rough.”

“JoJo, you have nothing to be sorry about, you were wonderful,” you muttered, quite breathless yourself as you weakly moved to stroke his cheek where he kept himself positioned above you.

“Are you certain? I would never want to hurt you, even if not on purpose, you are so dear to me—”

“That’s enough of that,” you said and suddenly, summoning all your remaining strength, you pushed him to the mattress below and moved to straddle his waist, “you, Jonathan Joestar, we’re perfect. No one has ever made me feel like that before

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he began, softly and in that same dulcet voice, now a little sleepier after the exertion of making love to you, “I would very much like for you to stay with me tonight."

“Of course I will.”

He offered you a satisfied hum in return and drew you up closer to him. You felt so safe in his strong, gentle hands, that it seemed precisely where you belonged. After years of pining, all you wanted was finally yours and it was even more wonderful than you could have imagined.

The following morning arrived early with a gloomy grey sun that only moderately illuminated the sky. Your body was sore and tired from the previous night’s exploits but being wrapped dutifully in your lover’s arms was a treasure worth its weight in gold. Before the day could get properly on, however, you had hurried out of Jonathan’s room before you had the chance to be caught by the overseer of the building and given a moral denigration for your improper choices. So you and JoJo said your brief goodbyes and settled on a rendezvous later that day.

Jonathan was then left to spend the rest of the morning in contemplative quiet, mulling over his curious turn in luck, it was enough to make him feel at ease. That feeling of peace, however, was short-lived when Dio decided to drop in unannounced.

“My, JoJo, it would appear that you got up to a rather unsavory business last night,” Dio said with forced nonchalance, though internally he was seething.

“Oh, Dio, I did not… think that you would hear.” 

“Well, I must say, I never thought you would’ve had the pluck to do anything of the sort,” Dio continued to further jibe his brother. “Though I wouldn’t say, but she absconded from here quite early, are you certain she was properly satisfied? It would lead one to surmise that she has gone in search of someone with a bit more experience to suit her needs. If that is the case, then feel free to send her to my door.”

Jonathan said nothing and only looked on at Dio with vague embarrassment, but he refused to play into his brother’s hand, what he had shared with you transcended any of the indignation Dio might have inspired within him. 

Of course, when you returned that afternoon, Dio was forced to eat those words with a side of the freshly baked birthday cake you had brought specially for Jonathan. It was with a degree of pageantry often untypical of him that Jonathan invited Dio to share the confection in a show of celebration for their birthdays. For once, Jonathan was rather glad that the days fell in such close proximity. Normally he maligned the idea for Dio always seemed more accomplished than he in spite of his humble origins, but the present circumstances, aided by your presence, warranted a certain level of pomp that Jonathan was able to delight in, though Dio found the whole situation too vexing or otherwise disgustingly saccharine to glean amusement enough to muster even pithy derision and instead only sulkily poked at the dessert before claiming boredom as a suitable excuse for his exit. Of course, it had all left him rather piqued and only served to swell the resentment he felt towards the brother he already claimed to so staunchly dislike. That being said, his ill-temper did little to detract from the warmth and glow of newfound love nor mislay the eagerness you felt to rekindle passion shared the previous night, this time with far fewer apprehensions.

[cressidagrey]

I’m sorry that this is going to be long.

So I have been going back and forth on whether to post this anon (like I usually do) or with my user name. I made an agreement with myself at the start of 2025 to start coming off anon more when I message authors about my love of their work. So ummm Hello!

I first stumbled on your work on Wattpad with the “Stay Through It All” series, then on AO3 with the “Getaway Car”, then on Tumblr with “The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince”. As you can see I have been on a journey through the apps/sites finding your stories along the way. It has been a joy to see what you will create next.

In March something told me (whether that was a gut instinct or God trying to guild me, I have no clue) to go on tumblr and there at the top of my Home page was the 1st chapter of “White Horse”. At the time I didn’t know why checking your page became the first thing I did when I came on the site until Chapter 4 : June 2023. It was near the end of chapter that Belle went to her fathers grave. I won’t lie that after I finished the chapter I had to take a step back and process what I just read and just feel.

You see in December of 2024 my dads cancer diagnoses went from stage 3 to stage 4. We were told that we would have 6 months to a year with him. Instead I only got 2 weeks and he passed in his sleep mid January 2025. The last lucid conversation I had with him was about us clearing the air about decisions he had made for me growing up that hurt me emotionally as he had never explained why he did so. Some examples: 1. I had the opportunity to tour with a theater company for 2 years as child actor (I was 11/12 at the time) all over the USA and Canada. When told about my schooling being moved to online/homeschooling my dad had a fit and said that they would need to cast someone else. 2. During my senior year of High School I had no clue what I wanted to with my life. I was good at a lot of things but nothing I was really great at or just made sense. 3 of my cousins were in the same boat. Our grandparents decided that they would pay for the 4 of us to backpack after graduation for a year to 18 months and hopefully we would have some idea of what we wanted to do when we returned. My dad hated this idea and gave me an ultimatum that lead to me not going with them. Now those 2 things and others have stuck with me still and I’m now in my mid thirties. I just wanted to understand why.

Now as you can guess I never got those answers. It has been festering like an opened wound. Reading White Horse has been helping me grieve and heal that wound. I’ve been slowly realizing that while I’ll never forget the pain and what was done, I can slowly forgive. So thank you. From the bottom of heart, thank you! I don’t know if you’ll see this, let alone even read it but I had to thank you. I also wanted to say take your time with writing. Balancing this and Uni is amazing just please don’t burn yourself out! You have an amazing way with words and storytelling that if you ever decide to publish your own book I will happily purchase it. I hope you are doing well and staying hydrated. If you have gotten this far, well, thank you for reading and listening.

Thank you so, so much for trusting me with this. Truly — from the bottom of my heart — I’m honored that anything I wrote could be a small piece of your healing. I'm incredibly sorry for everything you’ve been through. Grief is so heavy, especially when it’s layered with complicated love, disappointment, and unanswered questions.

Please know that your message means the absolute world to me.

I’m so proud of you for allowing yourself the grace to grieve, to feel, and to slowly move toward forgiveness — not for anyone else, but for yourself. 💛

Sending you so much love and strength. Always.

[portraitoftheoddity]

Ok, tumblr -- economic literacy lesson of the day is the difference between Net Worth and Liquidity.

Net Worth, for a person or company, is the total value of one's assets minus the total value of one's liabilities. This means: how much all of your shit is worth, after you subtract any debts you have.

Liquidity by contrast is how much of your assets you have readily available as spending money, or can quickly and easily convert to spending money (selling stocks or bonds, for instance).

For example: meet Bob. Bob owns a house worth $300k. His car is worth $5k. He has about $15k in the bank and $50k in a retirement fund that he can't pull from until he's 60. Bob has a mortgage on the house and still owes $100k, and has about $5k in other debts he's paying off, such as credit cards.

Bob's total assets (house, car, retirement fund, bank account) are worth $370k, with debts of $105k, leaving him with a Net Worth of $265k.

Now you may be saying "$265,000 is a lot of money! Bob is pretty wealthy!"

But Bob's assets are largely not liquid. He can't quickly and easily convert them into spending cash -- for physical objects, like a house or a car, you need to line up a buyer and negotiate a deal and it takes time to liquidate those assets (and leaves Bob with nowhere to live and nothing to drive). The retirement fund is not accessible money because of the limits on withdrawals based on age. In fact, the only money Bob has that's liquid for him to spend on bills, living expenses, and any emergency that might come up is the $15,000 in the bank.

Now imagine Bob gets injured and gets rushed to the hospital in an out-of-network ambulance because Bob has the misfortune to live in the US, and after the bills, Bob's $15k in the bank is completely wiped out. Bob still has a Net Worth of $250k, but he is now completely broke and getting hit with overdraft fees and still in debt.

Now, I wanna be clear -- this isn't a defense of the ultra-wealthy; billionaires whose net worth is largely accounted for by the businesses and assets they own still have more cash in their overseas bank accounts than you and I will probably ever see in our lifetimes, and have ability to borrow absurd amounts of money against their stock as collateral for easy liquidity without paying taxes, which is a whole other mess. Those guys operate by different rules than the rest of us (look up the Billionaire Borrowing Loophole, or 'Buy, Borrow, Die') so if you see people using this argument for why Jeff Bezos isn't actually all that rich because he can't just liquidate Amazon-- yeah, doesn't quite worth that way when we're on that level. But that's a whole 'nother bag of cats.

Anyway; I hope this helps clarify what people mean when they talk about Net Worth versus someone's actual accessible money, and hopefully helps you feel more informed!

[cute-firelight]

Hiiii!!! I just want to put my two cents and I agree with you, but I have issue with the inclusion of sapphic couples in this comment.

My problem is the unnecessary war that this mess has created.

I am talking about Caitvi here.

Sure, female queer ships are not demonized in that same way nowadays and now with all that fujoshis hatredom bullshit that is around… (I mean how people demonize cis girls that like BL romance), and the backlash Caitvi had in S2 is more about Caitlyn… But they have another set of issues in their reception too and I feel both sapphic and m/m couples suffer from homophobia in fandom, but differently.

F/F tend to suffer from sexualization from male audiences. They don’t like them if they can’t sexualize them.

M/M couples on the other hand are very well liked by some women, in all the ways they can be liked.

This has created that sometimes M/M couples become more popular or more visible in some fandom spaces. Including gay men that also like them, and sometimes sapphics are only liked by: lesbians ooor people that ship no matter the sexes and no matter their own sexuality (let’s call this generalist shippers, I would say I belong to this group).

Caitvi is an official couple at the end of the show and… hasn’t been as well received either if you consider the popularity of other ships in fandom. At least not if you compare it to timebomb… as an official couple they aren’t really as popular. I would dare to say there has been even more fanart and stuff about Jayvik at some moments. Until very recently I have seen Caitvi lifting through the ashes.

The reason Caitvi is not as hated for existing is merely because it’s undeniably official in canon, so people can’t put the denialism card. If they don’t like it then; they just leave or stop engaging. With Jayvik this doesn’t happen because it’s not clearly canon and people feel they can deny their existence.

Why do I say this? Because I have been seeing and debating in fandom before season 2, in season 1 even if it was a bit obvious that Caitvi was endgame or that at least they were romantic, a lot of people also put the denialism card to Caitvi before Season 2 released.

I remember debating with people about how they were just friends and I was like: wtf??? Do you break up with your friends under the rain??? Do you ask them what about us??? All in Caitvi had explicit sexual attraction.

Also, I have seen that a lot of people who don’t understand how fandom works have been recently entering to comment on them (this is why I came to tumblr, I feel that the only people left that understand this is on this site lmao).

The thing is…. You don’t need to be justified to ship people. Even if Jayvik aren’t canon with intention of the creators, people are allowed to ship them or see them as queer coded or queer platonic. Period.

You can make interpretations from the original material even if those things were not intended. Sometimes that sorta thing happens. Something it’s not intended in one way by the writer, but ends up looking like that.

As someone that loved the three pairings of the show (yes for me Jayvik it’s not romantic in canon and official, but has a lot of cool homoerotic tension like GutzxGriffith… So I can’t help but liking the pair, even if my only favorite couple of the show in season 1 was Caitvi, and still stands as a fictional couple I love). It’s very dissatisfying to me to see people involved in this pettiness of comparing couples and more if both of them are queer.

I love and enjoy the three of them.

They show different aspects and outcomes of love. Because yes, it doesn’t matter if Jayvik is romantic or sexual or not. It’s love.

I really wish I could enjoy better Arcane fandom but when people are constantly fighting over either Jayvik or Caitlyn it gets boring and no other topics of the show are discussed. There is also this discussion on how Mel is treated with mysoginy by Jayvik shippers because she was like a disposable girlfriend and I… I don’t know how to feel about that, because in my case I think the show frames that the reason why Mel and Jayce now don’t work even if before they did at some extent. They also weren’t shown as a real couple, they had a situation going on and I don’t think Jayce did this on purpose.

With Stranger things…. I have a bit of gripes with the writers, because I don’t see the series trying to make me doubt about Mike and El before season 4, and that is necessarily for a love triangle to work properly. The endgame couple needs to be challenged more (since season 2 is clear from Will’s side but Mike’s confusion was harder to grasp until season 3 and 4).

I think the triangle would have worked better if Mileven wasn’t so straight forward in the start too. They seemed as this cliche hetero couple and now…. They are a mess. Hopper didn’t like very much how Mike clings to El; but it’s framed as parental jealousy…. So yeah, this one is a love triangle that for some people doesn’t completely look like a love triangle for two reasons.

1 - The first and most obvious is because SOME straight need a lot more proof to feel chemistry between same sex characters than opposite sex characters.

2- The second one, is that usually in love triangles both relationships have cracks and need to be put more next to each other. They did this correctly on the last season… but it should have had more evidence in season 3. S3 focused too much in Mike and El drama, and Mike was basically just ignoring Will a bit. It looked like a teen couple having issues and being unable to solve them due to inexperience and trauma, and not much as Mike and El don’t being really compatible. Season 4 however felt like… they aren’t really compatible and that they are basically just trauma bonded.

I would love if they did Byler canon because the subtle hints are REALLY there. A lot of people have seen them. It would be a cool done subversion, but it being a subversion will be seen as coming out of nowhere by other people if they don’t properly explain it... I think it needed a better explanation EARLIER. This at least would have helped some people that is not used to engage with queer couples to cope a bit. I feel that if Will was a women they would see a love triangle but still… they would dislike this hypothetical girl because they are very attached to the idea of Mileven. (With this I am saying that… besides the homophobia the way they did this couple made people too attached to Mileven and as a result… they hate on Byler more than they usually would).

Still… Of course… everyone can ship Byler no matter if the intention it’s to make them canon or not.

I like the arc they are teasing for El to become more independent and become more independent means stop clinguing to Mike. This is why I honestly like more Byler now.

But I am not sure if they are doing it or not.

I think that if they do it they need to frame El’s arc of independence in a very badass way.

I feel that both of this cases suffer from different writing issues and how the text is made to be able to have two interpretations at once.

A lot of people can’t tolerate their interpretation of the text being questioned and this is what creates the problem for me. Besides of course a subtle unchecked homophobia some people might have.

Another example of this that I have??

Lord of the rings.

Frodo and Sam and other less known examples of the other books.

Frodo and Sam are the perfect example of how audiences mix author intention with audience perception.

Audiences sometimes can interpret different things from the canon material. Sam and Frodo weren’t written as lovers but more as a master and servant. However, they can be interpreted like that with what is stated in the books. At least queer coded or queer platonical.

I feel that people have a hard time understanding the difference between friendship and queer coding. Of course, if someone likes better Jayvik as friends is also fine. This is why I like it’s open and it’s just coded. It’s a shame this makes people argue instead of everyone being free to have their own headcanon or interpretation 💔

Also… a lot of the recent hate of m/m couples shipping lies also in mysoginy because they think we are all cis Herero women…. And people will bash everything we dare to like and enjoy.

a bit of a solemn rant about queer love, implied [on-screen] romance and shipping. pardon the blues, guys.

something i have realised [and found myself heartbroken and deeply enraged over] is that typically a fanbase’s apprehsion towards queer couples on screen — and gay couples specifically, i feel — is genuinely rooted in homophobia.

[and pardon me if this is just the obvious truth or rather a reach. this is just a thought that came to mind recently.]

as a stranger things and arcane connoisseur, i genuinely can’t unsee this now. there is an undeniable parallel between the general reception of byler and jayvik, wherein any mention of either ship is usually met with hostility and calls of delusion.

“it’s platonic love” is something that is often thrown in our faces. as if by entertaining the notion of romantic love we are actively undermining the significance of platonic love. obviously this isn’t the case, especially in the context of two shows for which the theme of love is deeply foundational.

ithink a lot of people are (1) genuinely perturbed by the fact that both byler and jayvik are most likely/have a high possibility of being canon; and (2) feel discomfitted by the notion of two men loving each other as more than just friends.

i really can’t shake the feeling that if, say, either will or viktor were girls, there would not be this much hostility towards either pair. more so, people would probably actually acknowledge the implications of unspoken and even slow-burning romantic love. AND people would also probably acknowledge the existence of a complicated love triangle [viktor, jayce and mel; will, mike and el].

i mean, really — why is queer love ALWAYS seen as a reach? what do you mean “we need to normalise platonic love”? it is normalised! having friends and loving your friends is NOT a wild concept that’s met with insane prejudice and backlash. neither is the concept of straight love. if anything, both are sort of the default.

honestly, if — as a queer person myself — my interpretation and perception of jayvik or byler pair is seen as delusion at best, i’ll genuinely take it. fine, yeah, sure. call me deluded and tell me making nothing out of something. i’m cool with that. because i know i’m not out of line for wanting queer love to be normalised. my fellow shippers [for lack of a better word] and i aren’t deluded or “pushing an agenda” in recognising queer love; in our want to see queer love on-screen; and in our want to see it depicted and represented as mundanely and casually as straight or platonic love.

[neverendingford]

.

[danieyells]

I cannot stress enough that if you do not make and support the stories and headcanons and fics and interpretations you want to see in the world no amount of complaining that people make things you don't like will help you feel better in the long run

Also consider that just because you don't like more than one interpretation of a thing doesn't mean other people who like a different interpretation don't like others too

[geee-three]

time for my daily scheduled "cry while doing philosophy homework and listening to this december by ricky montgomery

[freakied]

if you asked me what i want most in life i would say world peace, and then if you asked me what i really want most in life i would say fiancé!satoru being so obsessed with your engagement ring that he only wants handjobs for a week!!!!

its the pretty jewels moving up and down on his cock with your hand, of course, its mesmerizing! he's always thought your hands were so pretty, but now that your left one is decorated with a (ridiculously expensive) ring that he had brought, just the sight alone makes his dick jump...

so, once you get home from a late night out together one night, you had put satoru to sleep one time with a handjob. and as he was laying back and watching through his pretty lashes as your ring moved up and down with his building pleasure, he got a taste for your touch in a way he hasn't known before.

he was so obsessed with your ringed fingers wrapped around his cock that he wasn't even embarrassed when he came within minutes.if nothing else, the sight of his sticky cum dripping down over your ring was enough to turn this into a thing.

you don't know whether to be offended or not when the next night, you're kneeling down between his spread legs and itching for a taste of him, when he asks very sweetly if you could use your hand instead.

but you oblige, because he whines even louder now when you're stroking his thick, veiny length. he moans like he's in heat, because it's not only the sight of your ring that gets him going, it's what it represents. that he has access to you like this, to the intimate sides of you that no one else will ever see, for the rest of his life!

he's also the type of man to buy himself a matching engagement ring, so he has his own little decoration to symbolise his commitment to you. and once he learns that he can enjoy your engagement bands in other ways, sex progresses from handjobs to a whole new horizon of pleasure that didn't exist before you got engaged.

like when he has you on your back, legs locked around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere as he pistons into you, he's able to watch his ringed finger wrap around your neck and press down ever so gently. the glint of light that his ring catches when he's playing with your breath makes him twitch inside of you: and the look on your face tells him that you enjoy it just as much as him.

or when you're riding him, setting the pace as his fingers dig into your waist to ground himself. you reach up and troke the side of his face with your left hand, just to push your ring and middle finger into his mouth and press down on his tongue. his lips wrap around the ring on your finger and your poor fiancé can't help but reach orgasm there and then!

even when you're not having sex, it stays a thing. like when he's busy and missing you while he's away for work. and you send him a video that he opens in private to be met with the sight of your ringed-finger pushing deep into your cunt in a desperate attempt to emulate what he feels like inside of you. of course he ends up stroking himself in the nearest toilet or locked room, recording his own ring literally blurring from how fast he's jerking his cock to the thought of you needy and missing your fiancé at home.

everything sexual has to involve your rings, one way or another. he's taking nudes with his hand holding your tits together to show off his ring. he's holding onto your thighs so tight when tasting you that you're left with an indentation of his ring in your skin when he's done.

imagine how bad it gets when you actually get married.

thank u for all the love and welcoming me to tumblr i luv it here awww hopefully this was okay !! if ur reading this you're officially a resident of avivanation and its MY turn to welcome YOU! so welcome ^.^

[buttercuparry]

So tumblr keeps on shadowbanning Siraj's accounts and he tries to remake of course, but right now, he is exhausted with  how targeted these bans have started to feel.  To be honest, Siraj is tired of a lot of things: the never ending atrocity, the hunger, the cold, and of course, he is tired of barely making any progress in the  campaign at all. He wanted to make a post today but since he doesn’t have the energy to travel all the way to Deir-al Balah for an Internet connection, I am writing this on behalf of him. Please read through this if possible; these are Siraj Abudayeh's own words:

A perception gained through hearing is merely a poor reflection of the actual, be it about events concerning Gaza, Ramallah, Paris or USA.

It can't ever be enough even if you diligently follow the news. Or if you read every single article or watch every video that maybe available online. For there are things present in the air of Gaza- rotten and burnt smell, metallic smoke that sticks to the mouth and coats the nostrils, poison that is inhaled with every breathe and chemicals taken into the lungs- that no video can capture.

So of course there is a difference! It is a difference between reading the phrase, “I waited seven hours for a bottle of water,” and actually being parched and having to wait hours for some semi-polluted water. There is a difference between reading about Gazan children losing their childhoods, and actually having to see your son despairingly cry out “BREAD!” There is a difference between hearing about a torn tent, and actually having to live in it, that too if you were lucky to afford one.

There is always a difference between reading/hearing it and LIVING it. For all this, I want to say that the one who is only hearing about it does not have the right to draw up conclusions about the needs of the person living the nightmare. They have no right to either question his relentless pursuit for his cause, nor expect that he can be steadfast and not feel exhaustion. There is a difference between what we know and what others have the privilege of not knowing: there is a difference, there is a DIFFERENCE. The meaning is simple, there is always a difference.

In the last 2 days, we have seen some disturbing comments being made about the genocide going on in Gaza. I don't actually have anything to say regarding such banal behavior but I do request you to read what Gazans have to say. Ultimately Palestine will be free, with or without us, but I hope that when we chanted "Free Palestine", there was some truth to it.

( $10 CAD= $7.19 USD)

Vetting #219

[honey-tongued-devil]

↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠

Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!

Jayce: 

- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.  

- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.  

- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?  

- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.  

- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.  

- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.  

- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.  

- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.

Viktor:

- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.  

- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.  

- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.  

- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.  

- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.  

- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.

Ekko:

- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.  

- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.  

- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.  

- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.  

- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.  

- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.

Vander:

- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.  

- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.  

- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.  

- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.  

- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.  

- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.  

- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.  

Silco:

- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.  

- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,  

- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.  

- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.  

- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.  

- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.  

Jinx:

- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.  

- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.  

- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.  

- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.  

- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.  

- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.  

- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson. 

 

Vi:

- Anger.  

- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?  

- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.  

- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.  

- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.  

- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.  

Caitlyn:

- Safety first.  

- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.  

- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.  

- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."  

- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.  

- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.  

- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.  

Mel:

- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.  

- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.  

- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.  

- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.  

- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.  

- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.  

- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses—more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.  

Sevika:

- She needs a moment.  

- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.  

- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.  

- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.  

- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.  

[hyuckmov]

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 3 of 3

wc: 11k (lol) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: unprotected sex, making out, creampies, fingering, oral (f recieving), lowkey don't have that dog in me anymore so this is kind of vanilla, dirty talk, aftercare...? needs to be read after part 1 and 2 a/n: fucking finally. so so so sorry for the wait and also this is lowkey probably so BAD because its been a hot minute since i've written for tumblr. because this could be written/ended in so many ways, AN EPILOGUE IS COMING with a 'happy' ending, just not putting it here in this part because i think i should post this out first on it's own. i love you guys so much, thank you to every single person who's read, commented, let me know how much you liked it, and waited so patiently. i cannot express how much it means to me.

—

"whose party is this again?" 

"jaemin's friend chenle," mark says, placing his drink down on one of the tables. "think they should be around here somewhere." 

through the smoke, he can see your eyes shine. you've come even closer now, and it's as if every movement of yours is liquified, rendered in slow-motion – you flick a strand of hair out of your face and it's like he can feel the damp air on your cheeks, a slow smile spreading across your face like sunrise spilling over the horizon, that lovely curl of your lip that he's memorized. he feels his chest cave in when he hears you laugh, feel you take another step closer to him even though your eyes never meet his, even though you never look his way – every memory he has of you threatening to burst through his seams. 

your skin glows under the dizzying lights, and all he can think about is the fact that you’re so close, he could reach out his hand and touch you. but he can’t. you weren't his – and he was the one who had thrown you away.

jisung comes up to you, and haechan can see his friend's shy smile met with your beaming grin as you turn to face him. jisung is saying something to you – a hand gently placed on your shoulder as he speaks into your ear, the other gesturing vaguely towards the upstairs rooms. and then you're nodding, and haechan watches wide-eyed as he takes your hand in his and begins guiding you up the stairs. 

he can't help it – he only waits a beat, enough for you to disappear up the stairs, before he's rushing through the crowd, climbing the stairs two at a time. he rounds the corner just as he sees the flick of your skirt as you disappear into the nearest room, the door clicking shut softly. taking a moment to calm himself down – chest heaving, wringing his hands – he pads softly towards the room, placing both hands on the door, straining to hear anything that might be going on. 

low voices. the rustling of fabric. haechan's imagination spun out of control – jisung's large hands on your skin, his plush lips exploring your neck, your soft sounds, the way you might look under him. he heard a light laugh, and he pressed even closer to try to catch what was being said – what if he had you on his lap? what if you laughed because he'd kissed you behind the ear like haechan did once? it had caught you by surprise, and you'd giggled – burying your face in the crook of his neck. you were sorry. you were just sensitive. haechan had wanted to pull you into his chest and never let you go. 

he knew he was breaking his own heart – over-analyzing each muffled sound that came through, all his thoughts drifting back to memories of you. but he couldn't seem to peel himself away as the party raged on and on downstairs, didn't want to be anywhere else but near you even if you didn't know he was there. he had never felt this way with anyone else before – never needed anyone else like this, never afraid like this – and the realisation roared loud in his ears along with the feverish ghost of your fingerprints all over his skin. 

–

jisung knows haechan's going to talk to him. 

can see it in the way he hangs back after practice, fiddling with his guitar and placing it back on its stand, before picking it back up again for no real reason. there was something off, slightly, about haechan these days. not enough for jeno or mark to comment about it, to hold an intervention, but things had definitely changed – haechan never brought around girls, or showed any interest when jeno and mark would discuss them. he was quiet, and subdued during practice, absorbed in his own guitar, or else discussing new songs with mark in low voices. and strangest of all – jisung mused, slinging his own bass over his shoulder as he ambled to the door – haechan started to seem afraid of jisung. 

jisung – who had for the longest time been the most timid and shy of the group, the least experienced by far. he remembered how haechan would tease him if a girl paid him any slightest bit of attention: half-joking, but half trying to build up his friend's confidence. he remembered how he used to be wary of haechan's attention at after-show parties, because haechan would watch him like a hawk and push him into any girls he showed the vaguest interest in. he remembered his shock at haechan, who had never been mean or vindictive – a pain sometimes yes, but never truly cruel to him –, standing there obstinately in his place on stage, staring down at you in the crowd. 

to the version of haechan now, who could barely look him in the eye. 

"jisung?" 

haechan clears his throat. jisung stops in his tracks, turning back to look at haechan. 

"yeah?" 

haechan's gaze is directed at his shoes. swallowing, he takes a moment before he asks. "uh…how was…um…how've you been?" 

jisung has to stop himself from laughing out loud. "i've been good," he says, amiably. he's not going to let haechan have it easy. 

"nice…nice," haechan mumbles. "uh…seeing anybody?" 

"haechan," he keeps his tone light. "come on." he moves towards where haechan is standing awkwardly, taking a seat down on one of the stools. after a beat, haechan sits down too. 

"how did it go with y/n?" haechan sounds almost timid – like a child asking a question, but scared of knowing the answer. 

"can't you ask her yourself?" he knows he's making things difficult, but he needs haechan to work for it. needs haechan to articulate, because he knows that's the least you deserve. 

"i…i could," haechan says. "but i…i don't want to seem possessive. i already fucked up by wishing her luck on the date and i just…" he buries his face in his hands. jisung doesn't say a thing, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "i don't want to hurt her anymore…but i need to know. i need to know what to expect.…" haechan's voice is so small, like he's disappearing into himself. 

"haechan…" he starts, slowly, but haechan cuts in, hurriedly. 

"if you really love her, jisung, if you're happy together, i'll back off. i won't see her again. it'll be…it'll be too hard to see her with you but that's for me to figure out. you…you should both be happy. she deserves you, ji. you'll be good for each other." 

"what are you even saying…" jisung lets out a nervous laugh. he knows haechan tends to get dramatic – loves blowing moments out of proportion, lingering on stories that were fun to tell and relive. loves to exaggerate – always taking the smallest details too seriously and making light of things that had real consequences. but as he watches haechan – curled in on himself, he sees that this is something else entirely. this haechan was anxious and overthinking, unsure of himself, fractured into a thousand different wants and needs. 

"i'm serious, jisung." haechan, the vocalist he is, keeps his voice as steady as possible. "i'll back off if you tell me to. if i'm making it hard for you in any way…" 

"haechan, it's…it's going to be fine. it's not what you think." 

"you…you're not together now?" a hint of hopefulness. 

jisung chooses to be kind. "we're not," he says, gently. when haechan's lips part, he continues on, interrupting him. "it had nothing to do with you. we're just…not." 

"i'm sorry," haechan murmurs, finally lifting his head. "i know you wanted it to work out." he truly means it.

"i'm happy with the way things are now," jisung says it, and he means it too. "but…but you know she's going to start seeing other people, right?" 

a beat. "yeah…yeah of course." 

"you can't go after all of them and ask them if it's working out or not, you know?" jisung says, wryly. "at some point…you need to just talk to her." 

"i…" haechan break off, a pained expression flitting over his face. "i don't have anything to say. but i really want her to be happy. i just want her to be happy. but it sounds…" he catches the look on jisung's face. "i know it sounds like a guilt-trip. i know what it sounds like." 

"give her space," jisung suggests, quietly. "figure out what you're willing to give. who you can be for her."

"hyuck or haechan." he says it almost spitefully. he had never hated the difference more. 

-

you were in the crowd today. 

it had been a little over a month – 6 days more, to be exact, – since haechan had last seen you in the crowd, each time spotting your face easily, everyone else fading to nothing. each time noting every which way your eyes shimmered under the lights, the ways your pretty lips curved into a smile or a shout, or even each time you looked away, distracted. 

he'd practically rushed into the dressing room after the show ended, anxious hands tugging at his clothes, trying to fix himself up just in case you decided to come find him. questions had spun around in his mind so much during the show, he was afraid he would start singing them in place of mark's carefully written lyrics. he's thought of a thousand ways to bring it up, but he wishes he could just ask — how've you been? have you forgotten me? 

he's still lost in thought when the dressing room door opens softly, the lock turning gently in the door barely louder than a whisper. 

"haechan?" 

he turns, and you're there. you're wearing a new dress, probably the shortest one he's ever seen on you, black glittery fabric barely brushing the tops of your thighs. but he doesn't linger on your body, his eyes seeking out your own, the flush of anticipation and adrenaline in your cheeks, the way your hair falls slightly loose, framing your face. the question is on the tip of his tongue, his lips are parting, his breath catches in his throat –  

" – don't worry," you say, breathlessly, as you catch the look on his face. "no one saw me." 

oh. 

walking towards him, you pull him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck, so you can brush your lips against his cheek. pulling away, you peer at him, wondering why he's looking at you so lost. like he was wondering something since he laid eyes on you tonight.

you frown. "were you going to ask me something else?" 

his lips part, soundlessly. you've never seen him so speechless. his arms tentatively circle around your waist, fingers brushing the fabric of your dress, and understanding dawns on you. 

"yes, it's a new dress," you smile. 

he swallows, the cloudy look clearing from his eyes as he finally runs his heavy touch down your back, a feeling you've grown used to. 

his tone is slightly darker when he plays along, masking the traces of disappointment. "for me?" 

you nod, letting his hands wander to the zipper, eyes traveling to the mirror to catch the way he fiddles with it, slowly starting to drag it down your spine. 

what you don't catch, is the way he's looking at you – lip caught between his teeth, eyes focused on the side of your face, regret and sadness and a desire he still couldn't shake coursing through his body. you had come back – and maybe that was all that he should care about. 

"come home with me," he blurts out, suddenly. "i have to show you something." 

confused, you look back at him, frowning. "now?" 

he swallows. "yes. we'll still…it's just…" he stammers, confidence draining as he watches you zip your dress back up. "i mean…i just…thought you'd like my bedroom more than this dressing room. you said- you said it was uncomfortable, that last time…" he trails off. his head droops, fingers picking at his nails. 

you place your hands on his chest. his head lifts just slightly, glancing at you through his lashes. "haechan," the ache in your chest making your voice soft – barely above a whisper. "why are you so nervous today?" 

"i'm sorry," he starts, but you shake your head. "it's been awhile."

"that's fine, i'll go home with you," you say, smiling, hoping to reassure him. the words instantly relax him, and he lets out a breath. you can feel his chest move under your palms. 

"i'm sorry," he repeats, softly, but you don't know what he's saying it for. 

–

you don't know how you ended up here. 

one moment, haechan was unlocking his door, one hand fumbling with the keys as he held yours tightly in his other palm. the next, you were pushing him against the door – his plush lips, soft and tasting slightly like honeyed lip balm, finally kissing you deeply in a way you'd craved. and then he was sweeping you up into his arms, your legs locked in around his waist, his bag slumping to the floor as he focused all his attention on you. placing you on the countertop, he takes his time with your lips – his hand first cupping your face, then working its way down your neck, as if he was making sure you were wholly real through touch since his eyes were closed for the kiss. 

"hyuck?" you murmur. 

guilt pricks at your conscience when you feel him falter. you would never admit that you realized the name did something to him – made him more desperate and more tender all at once. you used it sparingly, only in certain moments, and tonight seemed just right for it, what with the way his touch was already so infused with longing. 

he hums in acknowledgement, pausing. a gentle palm tilts your face towards his, and his eyes are wide and patient. 

"what's wrong?" he asks. 

"i want to suck you off," you mumble, your words coming out rushed and careless. you almost think he might not catch it, but haechan goes still. his hands, caressing your face, stop moving.  

"what?"

your mind explodes with a million thoughts. did he not want you to? how many girls had sucked him off before you – did he think you wouldn't be good enough? was he not attracted to you enough? 

he was still just looking at you – something unreadable in his eyes. 

"do you not want me to?" you ask, doubt making your tone come off a little more insecure than you'd have liked. "is it…is it because i've never done it before?" 

he blinks. "what?" he repeats, again. 

you shift, uneasy. "you can teach me," you insist, holding onto his arms, wanting to be closer to him. "i'll practice…" 

"oh god," he whispers. "oh… oh y/n…" his hands barely skim your skin, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear. "don't," he says, quietly. 

"why?"

i don't want to hurt you," he says, voice so tender it wavers under the weight of his feelings for you. "being able to touch you is already everything to me-" he trails off, biting his lip, and then he's weak in the knees, and you melt into his embrace as he holds your body against his. "i don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." 

"i want to please you like the girls before," you protest, weakly. "i want to…i want you to tell me your fantasies." 

"all that matters to me," he says, slowly, eyes suddenly grave and solemn. "is that i'm here with you. just you." he holds your hands up to his lips and kisses the tips of your fingers. 

you don't know what to say. the charged atmosphere from before has dissolved into the night, leaving a balmy and sweet taste on your tongue. the only thing that feels right is to hold him in your arms and hold him as close as you can. 

he's looking at you, before suddenly pulling you into him as if he could read your mind – arms wrapped protectively around your back, one hand coming up to stroke your hair as you lean into his chest. 

the memory of that first night comes back to you – the first time he rejected you. he hadn't wanted to hurt you then, either. and then he proceeded to in all ways possible – playing with your heart in a terrible back and forth. and then he disappeared from your life, and then he came back and something was different – in the way he touched you, looked for you, looked at you, was careful with you. 

but you moved on – told jaemin, told yourself you weren't waiting. you'd gone on a date with jisung, and then to some more with a few other guys on campus. you didn't hang around the band all the time now – didn't show up for every concert. and even when you did, you rarely stopped by to see haechan – spending more and more time with jisung, who was steadily becoming one of your closest friends. 

you tried to keep things light when you did visit haechan. always easy, relishing in how well he knew how to please you, how he always knew what to say. and for the most part, he was able to play along – a smile always tugging at the corner of his lips, or his tongue poking into his cheek as his eyes turned dark. 

but it was on nights like these – when the moon was a bit too bright and the air between your lips and his dense like honey, your skin heated and his face flushed – when you used the wrong name, or he said things too vulnerable and too intimate. it was on nights like these when you are faced with the reality that he made you feel the way no one else could – even as he was ever-changing, ever showing you a different side of himself. on these nights you plunge your hands deep into the kaleidoscope of him, and its like diving into shattered glass. 

–

"i wanted to show you this," he murmurs, shyly. 

he places a pair of headphones clumsily on your head, his long fingers scrambling to adjust it on your head, trying not to pull at your hair. your hands come up to help, and you shoot him a reassuring smile. 

it was even later in the night. you were both showered and dressed for bed – you in a long-sleeved shirt of his that you liked. when you came into the bedroom, he was fiddling with his laptop – and you could hear snippets of his honey-sweet voice starting and stopping as he tapped at his keyboard. it was natural, to head over to the bed and lean your head on his shoulder, as he started to explain to you what he was doing, eventually grabbing his headphones from the bedside table. his skin smells faintly of baby powder, and his bare face under the dim light is so soft – mellowed curves, the constellation of moles on his cheek ever visible, eyes tired but warm. 

he clicks play, and his voice fills your ears – clean, without any backing vocals or instruments. you try to catch the lyrics, but he mumbles through his words, voice meandering effortlessly around the melodies, drawing beautiful loops. his voice is delicate and gentle, flowing water with a current of electricity running through it, humming and buzzing with dangerous life. 

it ends all too quickly, and haechan – who was watching your face carefully the entire time, clicks on a few more tracks. you can hear his voice, muffled from under the headphones, start to explain. 

"that's…that's my draft for the melody. i made it for this, uh, it's one of mark's demos–" 

a sultry, low beat now plays, low strings filling in the gaps. when his voice leaks in, you feel your cheeks start to heat up. the same melody from before – so innocuous and sweet, maybe something even vulnerable – sounds sinful all of a sudden. you can practically hear the scream of the crowd punctuating each line, and now even the way he mumbles is hazed with a sort of suggestive glow. 

you look at him, wide-eyed. he's still watching your face, this time his lip caught between his teeth, looking up at you through his lashes. when the song ends, you tug the headphones down from your ears, and he takes them from you absentmindedly.

"mark told me to try writing for that. he said it suited my voice —" 

"it does," you respond. your hands reach out to play with his, tracing the way his fingers curved, running your touch along his calloused finger-tips. 

"but i…i don't know. i want to write something…something that feels…" he stumbles over his words, eyes lingering on the way your hands play with his, the gentleness of your touch. "that feels like this," he finishes, softly. 

"like what?" you hum, tracing loops on the back of his hand. 

but he doesn't respond. 

"do you like it?" he asks, quietly. 

you give his hand a squeeze. "sing it for me?" 

his hand trails off to the keyboard again, but you hold it steady in your palm. "no, sing it for me now. here." 

he's still. you almost think he won't do it, but then he's pushing the screen of his laptop shut, and he turns to face you. 

this time, when he sings, he gets all the words out. 

in person, his voice is hushed and soft, like every word is a secret. his eyes flutter shut, and he ducks his head shyly as he continues. when he ends, his voice trails off, and he doesn't turn to look at you, staring at his hands. you stay silent, until it's like he can't bear it, and his head turns to face you, eyes seeking reassurance. 

"i like it just like this," you tell him, softly. 

his smile blooms. 

—

"keep haechan on his toes," jaemin says, leaning back in his chair. the steam from the coffee he made – a 2am jaemin specialty — curled gently in the air, your hands nursing the mug in front of you, sipping just to have something to do. "don't see him for awhile. keep him guessing." 

"that's cruel," you mumble. 

"he's done crueler," he points out. "you know you don't owe him anything, right?"

"i know i don't," you say, slowly. "i just think that it would kill me not to know how he's doing. if he was going on dates with other people…" 

"and would he tell you?" 

no, is your automatic answer, one you can't run from in your head, but jisung cuts in. 

"he wouldn't go on a date with someone else," he shakes his head, leaning back in his chair so he could stretch out his long limbs. blinking sleep from his eyes, he shook his head again to clear his bangs away from his eyes. it had been late already when he showed up, after a show, bringing food, a tired but giddy smile on his face. "you really fucked him up, that's all i'm going to say."

"he may not go on a date, but he'd fuck someone else, probably." jaemin rolls his eyes. 

"we actually haven't fucked in awhile." the realization feels like butterflies in your chest – an uneasy, fluttery feeling. 

"what?" jisung looks at you in disbelief. "sorry," he adds, suddenly sheepish when both you and jaemin stare at him. "i just thought that was the big part of your relationship." 

"it was…" you say, slowly. ignoring how jisung said 'relationship' when it was really never that. "but…but i don't know. recently we always get distracted…or… or he's… i don't know." 

you think of his unmade bed. the careful, tender loop of his arm around your waist. you think of the way his lashes flutter when you lean in to kiss him – 

and yet, there was something bigger bothering you about this, something that tugged at your gut, the words forcing themselves out of you. 

"i hate that it feels like there's nothing more to me than this." 

"y/n, what are you talking about?" jaemin asks, his voice quiet. when you pause, he presses on, urgency in every word. "what did he say to you?" 

"nothing," you shake your head. "he didn't say that to me, it's something i feel. no matter who i'm with…even when i'm alone….i can't run from it." you take a breath. you hated admitting this, but jaemin's eyes were kind as they looked into yours. "even when we weren't talking, i was thinking about him…and tonight…jaemin i don't think anyone should be able to make me feel like this." 

“there's nothing wrong with being in love," he says, carefully. when you don't say a word, he continues on, as gentle as possible. "you know that no amount of attention he gives you will change the way you feel, right?" 

he was right. if you really dared to dream – to use up every last shooting star, count on all of the angel numbers — and haechan, donghyuck, gave himself to you fully like you wanted, you would still be afraid of losing him. a sick flutter beats in your chest at the passing thought of him slipping away again – that all this fight would have been for nothing. 

it was as if jaemin could read your mind. "there was a life before him," he reassures you. "there is so much more without him. you just need to start living like it, to really see it."

you had nodded, but you couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how many shows you skipped, no matter how many times you drove by his apartment or ignored his messages, it wouldn't change a thing: that even though there was a life before him, maybe it wasn't one that you wanted anymore.

—

you're cutting through the park on your way home from class, when you hear a shout of your name. you barely have time to turn before a small girl is launching herself at your legs, standing high on her tip-toes to throw her arms around your waist. 

"slow down!" 

you'd know that voice anywhere. 

haechan looks different. he's dressed in a striped sweater, glasses askew on his small nose. your heart skips a beat – he looks warm, and cozy, and comfortable. behind the frames, his eyes glow when he looks at you, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips. 

the two of you just stand there, looking into each other's eyes. every sense of yours is heightened –  the autumn air cold on your skin. the light catching everything around you. and your heart beating in your chest, speeding up with every moment you continue looking at him. you can't help it: even now you smile looking at his face. 

he raises his eyebrows. 

"what?" you blurt out, caught off-guard. 

he laughs lightly. "what are you doing here?" he asks, like he's explaining a question. 

"just…passing through," you say, slowly. "you?" 

"the…uh…kindergarten's right near here." haechan point vaguely at a point in the distance, you only look at it for a second before you focus back on him. you can't help it. he smiles again. "you're just passing through? can't you stay for awhile? we were going to get ice cream." 

his sister tugs at your sweater, excited at the sound of ice cream. you look down at her face – she has the same nose as her brother, the same bright smile. 

"just for a bit," you concede. haechan pumps his fist, playing up his excitement to make his sister laugh. it makes your heart go still and race all at the same time. 

—

"we need to talk." 

there was something wrong with haechan. 

the smell of rain and cigarettes hung in the alley behind the dingy venue. haechan sits on the steps with his head in his hands, jeno leaning on the wall opposite, jisung against the doorway behind. it's mark who stands directly in front of him, as he rubs his face with his hands, trying to calm down. mark who crouches down, mark's prying hands which make haechan lift his head to look at them. 

"what happened?" he asks, his eyes blazing. 

haechan swallows. "it's been a bad day," he tries, weakly. 

"it's been a bad month," jeno corrects. at haechan's glare, he raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and it's jisung who pipes up.

"i think people are starting to notice something's off," he says, softly. "that you play differently, sometimes."

"you mean that he messes up when she's not in the crowd," jeno says, bitterly. 

"i only messed up today," haechan mumbles. "it won't happen again." 

"what about yesterday? it's like you weren't onstage at all." jeno protests. 

haechan opens his mouth, but closes it. he knew this conversation had to happen, that things would lead to this – his fingers faltering, his mind going blank as his solo began. jeno's drums continuing relentlessly, mark's eyes on him, as he shook his head fiercely, trying to clear his mind and focus all at once. unsure of what to keep — the image of you, or the chords he'd worked so hard to get right. 

"hyuck, do you need a break?" mark asked, his words slow and gentle. "we can stop performing for awhile, cancel some of our gigs…"

"no," he breathes.  "don't." he doesn't want to lose all of it – and because he knew that if he stopped performing, he didn't know if he would ever see you again. 

and it's like jeno reads his mind. "she's not going to like you like this," jeno says, his voice impersonal. "she likes the version of you onstage, remember? it's how she first met you, it's what kept her coming back for more." 

"jeno." mark's voice is stern, but haechan looks up right past him, hurt pooling in his eyes. 

"i know," he breathes. "i know that. but i don't know if i can be that around her anymore." 

"not just around her," jisung notes. "you're not haechan anymore. it doesn't make you happy." 

"i know," he repeats, quieter this time. 

"hyuck, listen," mark sighs. "you're not doing yourself any good going onstage like this. i'm canceling the next few shows –" as haechan protests, he cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. "no. we could all use a break." 

"mark," haechan croaks. "i can't." 

"we'll still have practice," mark says, firmly. "you still have to show up for all of it. and those songs i told you to work on —" 

"you should go home," jisung adds. "take care of your sister." 

there's a pause, as they wait for jeno to chime in. 

"none of it matters if you don't figure it out with her," he says, a tone of finality ringing in his words. he straightens, broad shoulders squared, suddenly much bigger under the lights. "if you need to get over it, you have to. staying like this is hurting everyone." 

haechan's lips part, soundlessly. there's a sharp creak, as jeno stalks back into the venue, followed by mark – who pats haechan gently on the shoulder. vaguely, haechan waits for the sound of jisung's soft steps to fade, but they only shuffle closer, until the lanky boy drops down next to him. his legs stretch out into the dingy alley, as haechan hugs his knees closer to his chest, for the first time perhaps truly afraid of what he was about to hear from his friend.

"sometimes, we meet the right person at the wrong time-" jisung's voice is quiet, almost a murmur, but the words still scrape against haechan's skin, rough like sand. 

"don't say that." he bites his lip harshly, a sudden rush of anger at the pity in jisung's responding sigh. "don't fucking say that." 

"haechan, it's okay. she liked you, but then she moved on after you realised you —" 

"she didn't –" his fist clenches, restless in his lap. "she didn't move on." 

"really? not at all?" jisung's eyes are fixed on haechan's, holding his gaze. "after weeks of telling her you couldn't give her what she wanted…you think she's still waiting for you?" 

"ji-"

"why should she wait for you?" 

haechan swallows. "she shouldn't," he mumbles. "i…i need to really let her go. jeno's right." he truly means it.

jisung hesitates. he's been spending more time with you, as friends – joining on your movie nights with jaemin, or else baking together, or letting you style him for shows and concerts. and the more time he spends with you, really gets to know you, the more he can see why you and haechan seem to need each other. your patience and gentleness matched the soft way he's seen haechan take care of his sister and at times, mark. he watched the way you sometimes falter – worry overtaking your features for a split second when you stop at a red light, or your teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you stand in front of the stove – and instinctively he can imagine haechan's confidence, his natural propensity to make everything seem easy, fitting in with you and taking care of you. 

but he knew that haechan could only give you his attention – not his heart, not until he was brave enough to admit how much you meant to him. 

your resolve to stay friends with him was as flimsy as haechan's promise to let you go. jisung almost wanted to laugh at the insistence both of you had, upon lying to yourselves. 

"be honest," he says, gently. "what do you want?" when haechan doesn't answer, jisung's low voice continues on, coaxingly. "what's your best-case scenario? what do you want to happen?" 

haechan takes a deep breath. "i don't know." 

jisung tries to hide his disappointment. "do you not know, or are you not ready to say it?" 

"i don't know," haechan mumbles again, burying his face in his hands. i don't know if i deserve it. 

the two of them sit there for a long, long, time. 

–

there was something wrong with haechan.

something's different. that's what jeno had said earlier, after the show. exhausted from sleepless nights, screaming fans making him feel nauseous, haechan barely paid attention to anything during his performances except for his own guitar. he hardly looked at the crowd, didn't acknowledge their pleas of his name, as if it wasn't one he recognised at all. 

he'd started missing parties, and was barely there even if he showed — ignoring the way girls swarmed around him, wondering if he was playing a new game, one where they had to work harder to earn his attention. it was a game they never won, his eyes trained on his cup, or else on the door. 

but out of all of haechan's bad habits, this might be the worst of them – sitting in the living room past midnight, sipping down to the last dregs of his alcohol, waiting for the knock on his door. 

it was late now — so late that the hours had bled into the next day. he hadn't seen you at the concert, not at the party, and despite telling himself not to dream, not to hope, he still carried enough desperation in him to stay up again. 

he's relieved he did. 

his hands shake as he opens the door. his hands falling to his sides as he drinks in the sight of you, letting you in. 

"hi," you breathe, and you don't ask before you lean into him, soft lips brushing his plush ones. 

he's at a loss for words, his tongue numb in his mouth, limbs still heavy from how tired he'd been all day. he lets you guide him to the couch, into the cushions. lets you straddle his hips, holding your body close to his with careful arms, as he meets your kisses gently.

something's different, but haechan's not the only one who's changed. on nights like these, all you do is take and take and take. 

"i haven't seen you in a while," he murmurs. quietly, softly, the words almost getting lost between kisses. immediately after he says the words, he slots his lips with yours firmly, as if afraid of what you would say if he let the space between you and him grow. 

"i've been busy." at the crestfallen look on his face, a small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in to brush your lips with his. "why? did you miss me?" 

"i did," he says, almost timid. "i missed you."

at this, you raise your eyebrows. "you could have had anyone else." 

but he shakes his head. "i missed you," he repeats, hands mapping your skin, as if checking if you were really here, seeking the familiar way you fit into his palms, your slopes and your edges. 

"i missed you too," you say, meaningfully, letting him pull you in for another kiss. but when you push against him, body rocking into his and mouth open and wanting, the glow in your eyes tells him you're talking about something else entirely. 

his mind races. the feeling of you against him wakes him up like nothing else, the way you touch him, your smell and your taste setting fire to all his senses. there's something sweet about your lips tonight, something he wants to savor on his tongue and drown in all at once. 

he doesn't want to waste any of this, because this was the only thing you ever wanted to see him for — and that's what he tells himself as he pulls you into his body, because finally, finally, your attention is all on him, an electric heat simmering over each fibre of his being, the feeling of your body too sweet to be true.

but it's been one too many nights he's waited, a weight on his chest and a drowsiness he can't shake overcoming him like a cloyingly sweet poison. 

"i–" he's cut off by a shuddering inhale as your lips travel down to his neck, your hips grinding against him just right. "baby, i'm sorry," he tries again, his hands now gripping onto your waist, trying to steady you, even as he gives up. "i don't think i can take care of you tonight." 

you still. 

"don't go, please," he begs. "i'm sorry, it's been…it's been a long day and i…" he breaks off. the performance. the fight with the band. the fact that he'd been drinking for hours, the starless sky inky black outside his window, his fingers still stinging from plucking at guitar strings all night. "just give me a second," he stammers, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his features, before looking up at you with tired eyes. "i'll be fine in a minute, then we'll go to the bedroom, i just —" 

your hands slide down the slope of his shoulders. 

"don't go," he repeats, hands fumbling for yours as he brings them up to his lips, like a prayer. "i can take care of you, i promise. just…" 

"donghyuck," you say, softly. again you smile, cupping his face in your palms. his round cheeks, plush lips, the slight flare of his nose. he almost goes cross-eyed staring at you, as you lean in close and kiss him again – this one different from the rest, close-lipped and chaste. 

"hyuck, let me take care of you tonight, okay?" 

caught in a riptide of his own longing, he lets go. 

"you don't have to do anything," he mumbles. his hands tentatively touch your waist, the barest brush of his fingertips, before he's encircling you in his arms, easing you into his chest. slowly, tentatively, he holds you close by the weight of his arms, a large hand reassuringly patting the space right beneath your heart – clumsy, rhythmic thumps that trailed off into a lingering warmth. "i just want to hold you here, like this." 

he can feel the tension that spreads down your spine, your breath caught in your throat. your lips are parted, your eyes looking at his in an unreadable expression. 

"do you not like it?" he asks, his voice small. his hands fall from your waist, nervously tugging his sleeves down over his palms. "i…i'm just…" 

"i do," you say, slowly. and because your faces are so close, the thought is barely crossing your mind before you press your lips against his. it's supposed to be quick, reassuring, but the look on haechan's face when you pull back makes you lean in again right away. 

it was a look that was open and hurt, his hands still tangled in his lap. his eyes stayed open as you kissed him, as if he couldn't dare believe it was real — finally blinking shut when you kissed him again, his slight relief melting on your tongue. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as you clumsily got up off the couch, and as you straightened, he ducked away from your gaze, staring at his hands. 

"hyuck," you start, but he shakes his head. 

"it's fine." he still wouldn't look at you - fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "you don't have to stay, it's late." 

"hyuck, listen to me." 

"i know," he says, quickly. the slightest trace of fear in his voice. "you don't….you don't have to remind me, i know. it's too…you said we couldn't…"

" — hyuck, i wasn't going to say that." 

his fingers falter, but he stays silent. 

"i can't fall asleep properly in your lap," you explain, slowly. "let's go to bed, okay?" 

he looks up then. "really?" 

"i said i want to take care of you," you repeat, his wide eyes making you feel shy all of a sudden. "i mean it." 

he lets you take his hands, body following pliantly as he stands from the couch, as you lead him to his bedroom, his eyes focused on your intertwined hands. it's both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling — crawling into his bed with his clothes on your body, sinking into the soft sheets and letting the senses of him wash over you. the usual buzz of pleasure isn't there, and its a different tiredness that seeps through your veins, one that comes with feeling safe. 

since when did you start feeling safe with him? 

you feel his weight sink in behind you, the duvet rustling against skin as he turns. an arm curls around your waist. his head lowers into the crook of your neck – you can feel his soft hair, his pouty lips brushing your shoulders in a light kiss. 

"the band is taking a break," he mumbles. "because of me."

"hyuck?" you try to turn in his arms, but his grip only tightens on your waist. he shakes his head. "hyuck, what happened? are you okay?" 

"m'yeah, i'm okay now." he shifts. "just…i just don't know if i like playing in the band anymore." 

there's a pause. 

"are you…are you disappointed?" the thumb drawing circles on your hip stills. "say something," he whispers. "please." 

"why would i be disappointed?" you ask, quietly. placing your hand on his, you turn, facing him as he encircles you in his arms. his eyes are half-lidded, tousled hair falling over his brows, his cheek squished against the pillow into a half-pout. it's almost instinct – the way your hand goes up to his face to brush his hair out of his face, fingers absentmindedly tracing his moles. 

you can feel his lips move against your fingers. "would you still come to see me?" he wonders, softly. "if you didn't have a reason to?" 

you bite your lip. "i would want to…" you say, slowly. "but i don't know if i should. haechan, what's going on? does music not make you happy anymore?" 

his heart aches. your care for him fills his lungs, making his eyes begin to prickle with tears. 

"i don't think the haechan…donghyuck thing is good for me." 

"oh." your thumb brushes over the bridge of his nose. "hyuck…" you start. "i don't…i don't want to overstep." 

his face falls. "sorry," he says, his voice small. "i won't bother you with it…you don't have to…"

"no, i don't mean…hey, listen to me." you wait until he looks up at you through his lashes, nervously. "i think i've gotten to know haechan and donghyuck, you know? i mean…" your heart skips a beat, suddenly shy at your own honesty. but you've already let your guard down – it's no use. "of course i like haechan. haechan's the one who invited me backstage, haechan's the one who made me go on that rooftop…but…" you take a breath. 

the sleep had worn off from haechan's eyes – he was alert as he watched you now,  hanging onto your every word. 

"i've gotten to know donghyuck too, i think. i hope. donghyuck makes the best sandwiches for his baby sister, donghyuck has a bear tattoo because he looks as cute as one, donghyuck is always gentle with me even when i ask him not to be." your thumb traces the constellation of moles he has again, tracing down to his neck. you draw him closer – the way he's looking at you: like you're his entire world, like your words were the only thing keeping him breathing, filling your chest with a tender kind of ache that didn't go away. 

"donghyuck and haechan aren't that different, not really. they're still you. i like them both. i like all of you. if you woke up tomorrow and told me you were someone else, if you were suddenly becoming someone new, i think i'd still want to fall asleep next to you anyway at the end of the day. because i know you –" you breathe in, sharply. "i…i think i do. i…hope i do." 

he doesn't say anything. just leans in, and brushes his lips with yours lightly – once, twice, and finally sealing them in a kiss. he kisses you deeply, intensely – it wakes you up, that familiar feeling stirring in your belly as your hips move of their own accord. a liquid euphoria fills your veins as he pulls you into him – him on his back, you laying on his firm chest, the toned muscles on his chest grounding you, a feeling so familiar, one that you craved for a long time. you've never felt safer, in his arms. he kisses you like with every moment apart, he wonders if you're still there, and each time he sighs into your mouth it's with relief that you're still here, with him. 

"do you want to…?" he asks softly. he's breathing heavily, but he tries to calm himself down. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and it's that act – so innocent, so nervous even though you've both done it a dozen times with each other, that makes your heart beat harder in your chest. 

"it's been awhile," you murmur. 

"i know." he nods, swallowing. "it just…it hasn't felt right. don't…don't get me wrong, i want you all the time-" he practically groans with frustration. "it's just recently i just…i've been really confused. it's so stupid, but i didn't know which version of me you wanted –" 

"just you," you assure him, softly.

"let me make it up to you then." his tone is just as soft. 

you take his hands, and slide them under your shirt. gently, he tugs it off of you, sitting up slightly to take his shirt off as well before focusing back on you. you're giddy with the feeling of his touch again, nostalgia heightening every single sensation. it's not just hyuck tracing his hands over your chest – his lips finding your nipples, tongue darting out to tease them lightly. it's every single time he's touched you before – in the backseat of his car, hands moving urgently. in your bed that first time – so careful because you were extra sensitive. you have to focus to get back to the present moment, where he's watching you carefully again – noticing that you're lost in your thoughts. 

"everything okay?" he murmurs. 

you nod. "i just missed you so much," you whisper, and you can feel his desperation in the kiss that follows. "i need you now." 

"need to prep you, baby." gently, he eases you onto the bed, crawling down your body as you tug off your shorts and panties. your legs spread, needily, as you can feel him inch closer to your core, his hands coming to hold your hips. "stay still for me?" he mumbles, his eyes dazed as he watches you nod, his own head bobbing along absentmindedly, guiding you through it as he encourages you to bend your knees, baring yourself to him. 

the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you mewl, hands coming down to grip onto his hair. 

"i know, baby," he comforts you, drawing small circles on your thigh as he leans into suckle your clit, making your hips buck up. he holds you still, patiently continuing to circle your entrance and lap at your clit. "fuck…you're getting so wet, angel." he slides in a finger, and the intrusion makes you clench around him in sensitivity, especially as he kitten-licks your clit shyly while easing in another finger. 

"need you now," you whine, voice reaching that pitch only he seems to bring out in you. his fingers pump more urgently, now curling towards the front of your walls, as he applies more force to your clit with his tongue, massaging the sensitive bud. 

"need you-" you choke out. "need you inside." 

"just give me one right now," he says, a slight plea to his voice. "please, angel. cum for me please, –"

"wanna cum with you inside," you sniffle. that gets his attention. he crawls right up your body until you're face to face, kissing you deeply, palms coming up to hold your face, careful to keep his fingers away. it's heated – your hips rolling into his as he finally loses control, hips bucking into yours until he's practically humping you as he kisses down your neck. your hands go to his waist, and he whimpers into your skin, finally tugging down his sweatpants, and you feel a familiar weight against your core. 

"condom-" he gasps, breaking away. the muscles on his body flex as he reaches for his bedside table, you can feel them move against your hands. 

"have you been fucking anyone else?" 

he blinks. "no, not since…" he breaks off. "no. and i'm clean. mark made me check." the sound of your giggle makes him smile momentarily – a goofy, lopsided grin that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

"i want to feel you-" you say, slowly. "please." 

he sucks in a breath. "this…this isn't one of those things you're trying to do to please me, right?" he looks at you, skeptically. "it doesn't make a difference to me, you know that right? i just want you to feel comfortable. and safe…" 

"i am comfortable," you assure him. "i'm on the pill. i really just want to do this with you." 

"because-" he suddenly sits back, running a nervous hand through his hair. "i'm fine with using protection, you know that. i…i love how you feel either way. i never want you to do anything you don't feel absolutely right about…"

"is this about the blowjob?" you raise your eyebrows at him, smiling when you see his eyes widen. "because i'm going to do that too, with you. i want to make you feel good." 

now it's his turn to laugh, tilting his head back. his adam's apple bobs in his throat. "you have no idea-" he murmurs, voice suddenly low and serious. "you have no idea how good you make me feel just by the way you look at me. by the way you say my name." 

"hyuck," you say, patiently. "i need you. don't make me beg." 

"i should be the one begging," he murmurs, and this time when you reach your arms out, he lowers himself right into your arms, letting you wrap your arms around him. he strokes himself a few times, eyelashes fluttering, before slowly easing into you – a soft sound escaping his lips as his eyes went unfocused. it really had been awhile – his length filling you up, stretching you out in a way that was almost painful, but that pain was quickly dulled by pleasure as his body pressed against yours. 

"fuck-" he curses, eyes screwed shut in concentration. "can i…can i please…" 

you rock your hips against him, letting him in even deeper as he bottoms out. "move-" you whimper, "please-" you barely finish your words before he's already drawing back, barely pulling out before fucking himself back in, short intense thursts feeling dizzying. his slender fingers find your clit again, applying a light pressure as the blunt tip of cock perfectly hits the spongy part of your walls, the sound obscene in the quiet room. you were so aroused, you felt that you were making a mess of his thighs – wetness making the scene seem ever more lewd, creaming around his length as he increased his speed, groaning lowly to himself. 

"cum for me, princess," he pleads, lips dipping down to mark the sensitive part of your neck. you were already close from all the teasing – and once again the familiarity of every touch and movement sends your senses into overdrive. your entire body tenses as you climax, and you can hear him hiss out another string of curses, mixed with your name and every term of endearment under the sun. 

"where do you want it?" he all but whimpers, hips still fucking into you like a reflex. 

"inside-" you mumble, ankles loosely hooking behind his back, trying to stop him from moving away. "hyuck, please come inside, fill me up please-" with a soft cry, he pushes in deep – and you can feel him cum inside you, making a mess between your thighs, the feeling so arousing that it awakens something inside you, and your hips begin to move – begging for more. 

"wait-" he pants. "give me a minute, angel-" his eyes are closed again, head lowered, as he pushes through the overstimulation, feeling his soft cock slowly begin to harden again. the sounds falling from his throat now are scratchy, hoarse whines – a sound so dirty it makes your heart beat even faster, a sense of defiled innocence you've only ever heard in his music. the angle in which he's rutting into you stimulating your clit, pushing you closer to your edge as you fuck up onto him. 

"hyuck?" you push his bangs out of his eyes, tracing your hands over his shoulders, his chest. your fingers brush past his nipples and his mouth falls open with need, an achy sound releasing from the back of his throat, his puffy lips parted obscenely. you pinch his nipples again, gently, experimentative, and you feel his body shudder as he cums again, this time going still. it's so fucking arousing, an different side to him that you've never seen, that you feel yourself climax as well, the stimulation overwhelming. 

the both of you lay there for awhile, before he seems to come to his senses — a shaky hand moving the hair out of your face. 

he looks at you, and you look at him. 

and as if he can't help himself, he kisses you again – this time so soft and gentle, almost as if it were the first time all over again. 

"you alright?" he mumbles. 

you nod. 

"let's clean up in a second," he breathes. "just…let's stay like this for awhile." 

you nod again. you don't trust your own voice. something is happening – something tastes different in the air, something in the way you're looking at each other, something in the way he's touching you now – as if you might break or bruise if he even let his fingerprints get onto your skin. in the way he's looking at you now – something urgent in his gaze. 

"are you…are you free tomorrow night?" 

"i am." you sound stronger than you feel. 

"can i take you somewhere?" 

pause. "yeah." you give him a small smile. "i'd like that."

the smile that breaks out across his face is one that you know like the back of your hand. 

–

sitting across from you now, with your plates already cleared away and all that's left is your last few sips of wine, it hits you how that this is the most normal setting you've been in with him, possibly ever. his long legs stretched out under the table over by your chair, gently placing down his wine glass as he looks at you, his expression soft. his face is lit up by candlelight, hair falling over his brows in a hopelessly endearing way. 

"you good?" he murmurs. 

you nod. things feel cozy, and comfortable – it's a feeling so foreign but at the same time so familiar, you have to keep reminding yourself that this is real. 

he bites his lip. "pretend i'm jisung," he says, impulsively. "and…and you're describing how this went to him. how…how did you find it?" 

you give him a look, but he looks so shy, so nervous to be asking you this question, that you decide to play along. 

"well, jisung-" you take a deep breath, smiling when you see him smile too. "haechan picked me up today, that was really nice-" 

"-sounds like the bare minimum," he mumbles back, head bent.

"well, yeah it kind of is. but he doesn't have the best track record." you see him wince, so you let that comment linger for awhile before continuing on. "he's been a gentleman today. he…he took me to a restaurant that he found out i've been meaning to go to for awhile now, because he asked jaemin beforehand." 

"and that's…creepy? doing too much?" 

"it was thoughtful," you mused. "even though he made the reservation for the wrong date…"

"fucker," he shakes his head. 

"...it was nice because we got to go to walk around, and there was this moment, um…" his head darts up. now you can see him break character – something piercingly vulnerable in the way his bambi-brown eyes shine. 

you swallow. "we were crossing the street…and he put his hand on my lower back, just to guide me forward, and when we got to the other side he took my hand in his and just…held it-" 

he's looking at you, slightly confused and a little nervous. 

"yeah?" 

"he…he usually only acts like that when we're alone…when there's no one around." he still looks lost, so you reach forward across the table, taking his hand in yours. as if on instinct, his hand squeezes yours. "it's sweet," you reassure him. "it was really sweet." 

he bites his lip, but nods to show that he understands.

there's silence, for a bit. you think of breaking the silence, of saying anything, when suddenly he clears his throat slightly, sitting up a little straighter.

"hey, mark-" now he's doing the same bit, and it catches you by surprise a little - making you smile. "yeah, i'm still with y/n. i...uh...i fucked up the reservation, you were right, i should've checked again..."

"i really like spending time with her," he says, slowly. "i...i can't stop staring at her - she looks so beautiful tonight. and...and i can't believe she's finally here with me, that i somehow didn't fuck this up. and um...we were in this record store just now...and i was listening to her talk about an album she liked -" a smile plays on his lips as he recalls the memory. you suddenly become aware that your heart is beating hard again, pounding in your ribs. "and she was so excited, and she kept laughing as she talked, and...and i just realised i would do anything to make her that happy, all the time. and that i want it to be me, i want to be the reason she smiles like that."

you swallow.

"haechan..."

"you don't have to say anything-" he rushes to say. "i just...i just wanted you - i mean, uh, mark - to know."

"okay." you take a deep breath. "and um, i want jisung to know that-"

"yeah?"

"i like spending time with him too," you say, faintly.

he nods, but he doesn't smile.

-

as the car pulls up to your driveway, the quiet hum of the engine is silenced – headlights turned off, only the soft glow of streetlights casting their pools of gold over haechan's face. it's so quiet, you hear the shaky breath he takes as he steadies himself. 

"i have something for you," he murmurs. you can feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans to pick something up from the backseat, the comforting smell of his perfume making your heart warm. but then you hear the crinkle of paper, his hair falling over his face as he sits back into the driver's seat, and your heart falls in a completely different way – your insides rushing with inertia, dizzy and heady – because he's holding a bouquet of dark red roses. they're wrapped sweetly, tied off with a piece of red ribbon to match the blooms, and your eyes linger on the way his fingers tremble as he holds them out to you with both hands. 

his starts to speak, but whatever he falters as he watches you stare at the soft petals, stems completely stripped of their thorns – and he bites his lower lip, breath caught in his throat. 

"too much?" he asks, softly. "i just thought…i just…mark and jisung said it would be a good idea," he stammers, lowering the bouquet as one of his hands falls to his thighs, nervously clenching his fists. "i was supposed to give them to you when i picked you up, but i got scared…you don't have to take them, i just thought…i wasn't thinking-" 

your hand closes around his hand holding the flowers. your other goes to his face, your thumb brushing his cheek as he falls silent, his eyes fixed on yours, caught in the haze of your touch. slowly, so as not to startle him, you lean in and kiss him gently. it's a beat before he kisses you back, as if he couldn't believe it, and when you pull away just slightly with a soft sound, you can see the nervousness in his eyes. and so you lean in to kiss him again – you kiss him until his lashes flutter shut, until you can feel him settle in his seat, sighing into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. you pull the flowers into your lap, his hand giving up control easily, coming up to your face to hold you in his palms. 

"hyuck." 

he pauses, leaning back – but his hands only leave your face when you hold them in your own, guiding them down to rest against the center console, your fingers intertwined. 

"i never want you to feel like i'm ashamed of being seen with you," he blurts out suddenly. 

"what?" 

"i never meant to let it get that far," he continues on, looking at his hands. "when i first met you…i wanted you to be like everyone else. i tried to do what i always do, but i just couldn't. you kept getting in my head, and i kept hurting you, and i didn't know how to stop and i just-" he exhales. "i never want to make you feel like that again." 

"hyuck, was this a date?" 

he swallows. "if you want it to be," he starts, but then he shakes his head. "the truth is, i was afraid you would say no if it was. but i really want it to be. i really really do." 

"hyuck," you take a deep breath. "whatever you're going through, you're not going to find the answer in me." 

"y/n, i love you," he says, quietly, tenderly. he says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. "i want to be a person who deserves to be with you, and love you, and i know you think you can't change me, and it isn't your responsibility to try at all…but you already have, and you can't take it back. when i'm with you i feel like i can see this version of donghyuck that i want to be all the time for the rest of my life." 

"no two people should change to be with each other –" you start, but he shakes his head. 

"we aren't a scenario," he insists. "this isn't a hypothetical. there's no should and shouldn't, because you know me –" he's pleading. "i'm not the same boy you saw onstage that first time you came to our show, and you're not that same girl on the roof," he pleads, voice breaking, tears welling up in the pretty cut of his eyes. "why is it so hard for you to believe that this version of us is meant to be together?" 

there's silence. 

"i can believe it," you start, quietly. "that's what terrifies me." 

you can see him start to lose hope. he can't force you to stay with him when you're not ready, and he doesn't want to be that person either. 

"i…" he hesitates. he wants to say so much more to you – that no one else makes him feel the way you make him feel. that he feels like he'll never love anyone again, not the way he loves you. the fact that you're it for him in a million different ways, a love he never thought he'd find. that he'll never be able to give anyone else a fair chance. 

but he can tell his love makes your shoulders heavy, makes your eyes go foggy with tears. already, you look shattered sitting in the passenger seat of his car, his love a weight on your chest that you don't know what to do with. already he's losing whatever bravery he had before – the bravery his love for you had given him. 

"sometimes-" you start, breaking off, your voice quivering. "when we're together, i feel like i could do it for the rest of my life. that you're the only one i've met to make me feel this way, that i'm the only one who knows you so deep." 

"you are," he breathes. 

"but-" your voice rises, agitated. "you hurt me. again and again. i came back when i wasn't ready, i should've given it more time, i just couldn't stay away. and then you came back into my life, and i forgave you to be with you again, and i tried to give other people a chance but i just…i just couldn't. what if this is too soon again?" 

i'll wait. the words are on the tip of his tongue, but he knows its the wrong thing to say, wrong thing to want. there's nothing romantic about waiting for someone – it's a cruel promise, one that rots each day going by in the wait for the future. 

"do you…" he takes a deep breath. "do you want to let me go?"

you nod, slowly. haechan can feel his heartbeat in his ears. 

"i'm not sorry," you whisper. "it's not right. you…i know you think you know what you want, but i need you to be sure of who you are, and who you want. i can't give you the answers." 

haechan remembers how – and it seems so far away, almost like a dream now – the night you went out with jisung, he dreamed of you. dreamed up the final version of you and him – everything good and always good, coming backstage to you, coming home to you. and some part of him had dared to hope, that despite everything, despite himself, the two of you would make it to that final version. 

but maybe the final version of you and him was this – the sound of the car door shutting as you walk up the steps to your apartment, and him crying all the way home, roses left in the front seat of the car, the ghost of your hands burning on his face.

(EPILOGUE RELEASE SOON)

@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35 @kim-seungmins-gf @delllllllsstuff @nohunlee @kingsoowolves @enhasrii @fnafgirl87 @imzerozen @toroufriteh @torothecatt

[5ummit]

New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)

More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.

Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:

I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.

After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:

.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}

Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS (<style> tag) and goodbye pop-up!

If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.

Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:

tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper

Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.

Some additional notes:

After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.

The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!

The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.

This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.

[neverendingford]

.

[jadegrey711]

Wally Clark x Reader Drabble

Just a quick little drabble about Wally and reader trying out some thigh riding. Really more banter than smut, but enjoy!

*NOT MY GIF*

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

"I really don't understand why you wore shorts on top of the grey sweatpants?" you teased as you sat in Wally's lap. "I mean you died after the movie Rocky came out and he was just rocking the grey sweatpants."

"It was the style!" Wally groaned.

"This is why the 90s were WAY better than the 80s."

"Excuse me?" Wally gasped. "The Goonies? Stand by Me? E. freaking T! Not to mention Dirty Dancing, which I know you love. So don't even try." He acused pointing a finger at you. "As well as MTV. The 80s were the shit."

"The 80s had great movies no doubt but fashion please! The 80s will forever be the spandex era, and you my wonderful Wally, are a victim of that." You said making your point, and trying to get up from Wally's lap.

"You think I'm a fashion victim?" Wally gaped, and pulled you back down to where you were stradling his thigh, the heat of his strong thighs radiating through the grey sweatpants he always wore. "Please I might have been dead but I watched everyone go through the 2010s, all that galaxy print still makes me shudder." He made an exasperated shivering motion which made you laugh as he wrapped his arms back around your torso.

"I never said that the 2010s fashion wasn't shit either. I think that galaxy print and spandex go hand in hand with the fashion victim department."

"Oh you're going to pay for that comment, baby. I ain't nobody's fashion victim." The grip on your waist tightened just a fraction.

"Oh yeah? And whatcha gonna do...Wallace?" You sassed staring those dark brown eyes down. And watched as they flicked down to your precarious position, straddling his thigh.

"Hmmm. Let's see what this will do." He said as he grabbed the hem of your jeans, and brought you forward on his thigh. You let out a small gasp, as the seam of your jeans hit just right on your clit as he brought you up his thigh.

"Wally!" You gasped.

"Did it feel good baby?"

"That's not the point." You said softly still trying to sound stern. "People will hear us." Wally leaned in close for a kiss.

"I promise I'll keep you quiet." He smirked, then pulled you back down his leg and back up again. You let out a reluctant moan and Wally was quick to cover your mouth with his, hushing your moans.

"Wally." You tried again, but he was having fun now and there's no stopping Wally not until he's made you cream your pants.

"You're so sensitive baby. We're going to have to do this more in the future." He growled, as he brought you back down and up again. "Do you think I could make you cum like this? It's going to be fun trying." He chuckled, kissing you again and deepening it this time, his tongue invading your mouth, eating the small moans he pulled from you.

"Maybe next time, I'll do this when you've only got your panties on, see how fast this fashion victim can make you cum, huh?"

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped, you and the heat that the thought of you two doing this again brought to your core.

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. pussy slapping hcs w the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna) + small drabbles attached.

⋆ tags. dom!character x female reader (separate). smut. pwp. pussy slapping. dirty talk. further warnings before each small drabble. based on an anon request; sorry, tumblr fucked up ⋆ wc. 1.1k total

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

likes to see the facial expressions you make, so he always has you on your back when he does it.

is always teasingly slow. never rushes the process—even if you beg him to satisfy you properly.

the wet sounds your sopping cunt makes, is what he does it for. the view is something he finds rather endearing as well.

tags. mocking. edging. nicknames used; ‘sweetheart,’

“mph! ‘toru, please. . .” your legs shake with each slap to your cunt. satoru’s grinning from ear to ear, enjoying every little noise you make as his palm pats your pussy lightly. he’s going so slow—trying to get on your nerves by not allowing you to cum just yet.

“‘toru, please’,” satoru repeats your words in a high-pitched tone. he giggles at his own tease before planting a sweet kiss on the side of your chest, glazed over eyes still looking down at your cunt. your juices are coating his slender fingers and it takes every ounce of his strength to not lick them off. to taste the sweetness.

the slow slaps and the time interval between them drove you to insanity. the pleasure comes and goes—it’s torturous. satoru pouts as you pout, mirroring your actions with a shit-eating grin, “patience, sweetheart. just a few more, i promise. i’ll fuck you reaaal good afterwards.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

does it when you least expect it, because that man loves to catch you off guard.

he can be gentle or rough about it—depends on his mood. if he’s in a good mood, the little slaps are meant to stimulate your clit for your own satisfaction. if he’s in a shit mood, the firm slaps are meant as punishment.

tags. p in v. doggy style. condescending tones. nicknames used ‘princess’.

“what now, princess?” suguru murmurs right into your ear. his chest is pressed against your back, one hand slithering down your waist to your hip and between your legs. you’re whining, unlike before, when you had the audacity to hold back your moans and act like you didn’t like what he was doing.

“where’d that attitude go, hm?” suguru grunts, clicking his tongue. you’re bratty today, but he has the solution to fix that. he pulls his hard cock out of your pulsating cunt and leaves you empty. the tips of his fingers glide over your labia instead. you try to grind back against his digits, though was met by a harsh slap instead.

your body jolts at the unexpected slap. not a moment goes by and a second one hits your pussy lips firmly. your moans are muffled by the pillow you’re biting into.

suguru sees you struggle to keep your moans to yourself and chuckles deeply. his jaw clenches and his hand lands harshly on your puffy cunt once more, “keep that attitude up and i’m not stopping until you’re screaming for mercy.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

does it gently, but is so so nasty about it. wouldn’t be surprised if you came just from him slapping your cunt a couple times.

loves to do it when you have your panties still on. that way he can see your wetness through the fabric.

tags. praise. semi-public/exhibitionism kinda. reader wears skirt. nicknames used ‘love, angel’.

“now now, love,” kento kisses the side of your neck gently, urging you to stay still. your back is against his chest and your legs are spread with your skirt flipped up. it’s an embarrassing situation—especially because you’re in his office with your lace panties on display.

the wet spot on the fabric only grows bigger and bigger with each gentle tap of your lover’s palm. kento’s slaps are painfully soft. he knows that it’s agonising for you, but it’s a complete turn-on for him, “you’re doing so well. getting so wet and ready for my cock, mm?”

your eyes roll back from the combination of dirty talk and praise. kento chuckles, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. his fingers come in contact with your clothed clit and it makes you squirm. each little slap made you needier. the sorcerer drags his fingers up and down your pussy before slapping it again through your panties;

“if you stay still for me, i promise i’ll give you what you want, okay, angel? for me?”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

is pretty harsh when doing it. might use his cock to do so too sometimes.

loves to do it when he’s eating you out—gives a couple slaps in between, here and there. right on your clit too.

tags. cunnilingus. degradation. reader gets called ‘little girl’.

“nasty fuckin’ pussy. look at her,” toji scoffs once he pulls his mouth away from your messy cunt. he’s been lapping up your juices for a couple minutes now, the clear fluid smeared all around his lips.

the tip of his tongue drags up and down your slit—tracing circles around your clit. your hands grab onto toji’s black hair, gaining a deep grunt from him. he lifts his hand and slaps your pussy in response, “hands to yrself, little girl.”

you want to comply, but the extra stimulation your body got from that slap only urges you to grip his hair tighter. toji curses under his breath, removes his head from between your thighs and makes it seem like he’s finally going to fuck you��his leaking tip suddenly placed right at your entrance.

well, you guessed wrong. toji’s veiny hand wraps around the base of his cock, only to slap it down on your sensitive clit. you moan at the contact and he answers by doing it again, “hah. thought i was gonna fuck you? nah, ‘m not doing any of that until ya know y’r place.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

makes it nasty by spitting on your cunt before slapping it. loves to see the mess the fluids form on your pussy lips.

has you counting the slaps probably too. if you lose count or get it wrong, he’s starting over.

does it again and again until you’re in absolute tears.

tags. true form!sukuna. over-protectiveness. mention of murder. dacryphilia. spit. reader gets called ‘brat’

“what’d i tell you about hanging around with that lowlife?” sukuna grumbles, clearly pissed off. he spits on your cunt that laid open before him. he’d ordered you to wait for him on his bed with your legs spread while he took care of some ‘business’. which was killing that man who dared to speak with you.

“fuckin’ brat. you never listen,” sukuna continues. two of his hands hold your thighs in place, another one rubs his spit all over your aching pussy. he delivers a firm slap to your cunt once it’s coated in his saliva. you whine and whimper, but the king of curses could not care less.

you know what you should do; accept and count the amount of slaps. you do exactly that, though the harsh slaps are too overstimulating for your poor pussy, causing you to sob. sukuna’s eyes have a dangerous and sadistic look in them—clearly enjoying your tears and suffering.

the sounds of your wet flesh getting slapped repeatedly echoes throughout the room. your tears, whines and bodily reactions drive sukuna absolutely insane. he breathes heavily and stops the slaps, “on all fours. now. i’m not repeating myself.”

[uyuforu]

Romance Numbers in Destiny of Matrix

Hi people! So I have been discovering Destiny of Matrix for some days and I LOVE this technique. And of course, anytime I discover some thing, I love to check with the people I know to see how accurate it is. Moreover, I feel like it hasn't been talked much on Tumblr? Like there are posts but not enough in my opinion. I wanted to try to give my interpretation as I have made some researches based on people I know. So this post is totally my own interpretation! Though, I hope this can give some insights, and some good tools too.

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ How to know when you will get married?

જ⁀➴ How to know where your Future Spouse was born?

જ⁀➴ Derivative Astrology: our Future Spouse in our Natal Chart

READINGS BOOKING OPEN

email adress: tarotjunoboda@gmail.com

Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews

astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings

What is Destiny Matrix?

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Destiny Matrix is an Esoteric tool that explores the 22 Arcana's of the Tarot to see a different approach of yourself and your life, as a Chart, similar to Astrology. It's a tool that also enable you to develop your full potential as an individual. Numbers and Chakras are used instead of signs, houses and degrees.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Calculate your Destiny Matrix Chart here.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Numbers on the Chart will go from 1 to 22, representing each Tarot's 22 Major Arcanas.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Colored Numbers are your main energies, they are also great tools to understand your true potential and why you came into this life, but also past life, desires, and your soul's purpose. Though this isn't the theme in this post.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Some more ressources on Tumblr here!

How do you use Destiny Matrix?

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ In this post, we will talk about the romance and love part of your life. And mostly numbers. On each sides of the chart, you'll see your different ages, representing different eras of your life. And above those different ages, you'll see a number, between 1 to 22.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ As you may have guessed it, those numbers will express the energy of what is happening in your life in those eras. It doesn't only mean one thing, it's a global energy. So this energy can be taken in romance, career, etc.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ It's more about energies and main events. It's a life forecast.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Now, each numbers above your different ages represent a Tarot Major Arcana, to know more, here is the Wikipedia page.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Of course, each Arcana have also their own energies and meanings, and the way I interpret cards have always been taking both positive and negative energies. In this tool, I think it's important to take both.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ I have so studied this technique with my personal knowledge and thought of doing an observation post about it, please read this before continuing:

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Please know this post is based on my personal researches. I practice Tarot too and I have some knowledge on the cards, but I am still new at Destiny of Matrix. My main goal in this post is to give more insights and my own point of view on the matter. I of course use relatives and individuals I knows to support all theories here. This is truly an observation post. Please take it lightly!

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Also please use your intuition, I bet you'll not have children at 5 years old, so even if you see a number that can indicate pregnancy, think twice that it might not happen when you are too young. Use your own discernment, and take it in an open-minded way! Those are possible indicators only!

Meeting your Future Spouse Numbers

1: The Magician

The first Major Arcana can be an indicator of meeting your Future spouse. This card is the very first card, which usually represents new beginnings, something new coming to your life. It also indicates lovestruck, beginning of a relationship, and building a story with someone. In this case, this can be taken as a something new starting, and def something major in your life.

5: The Hierophant

The Hierophant, also called The Pope, is the 5th card and is an indicator of meeting your FS. This card is considered linked to marriage, as the man on the card usually seal a union between two individuals. Usually this card represent a union that can go far, meaning to marriage. So this can also be an indicator of meeting someone you'll marry in the future. It seems like this number happened with people when they realized who they will marry.

6: The Lovers

The Lovers is the 6th card and it's also an indicator of meeting your FS! It's a quite strong indicator in my opinion, since this card is a divine union card, so soulmates for example are often represented with this card. You could meet a destined lover with this number, or just fall in love too.

10: The Wheel of Fortune

The 10th card usually represents major change in our life, so if you have a 10 number, this can be a year when you'll meet someone who will deeply change your life. This can be a year when you'll meet your FS, things will change!

14: Temperance

This number can also indicate meeting your FS, as this card is also a Soulmate card. Just as the Lovers card, you could meet a divine partner this year but also someone who you'll love deeply. It can also be a soulmate, but this can def be an indicator of meeting the person you'll marry.

16: The Tower

The Tower is also called "The House of God" in the French Version, and it can then represent something fated by a higher force. The number 16 can be a time when you'll meet someone who was "sent" to you, someone who is destined to meet you, and they could perhaps be your FS. It usually also represents a happy union.

17: The Star

The Star is the 17th card of the Tarot for Major Arcana, and it is a sign of hope, happiness and optimism. This number can also be an indicator of meeting someone who will bring you great joy. This is an indicator of having a protected Union, being a couple that will last a long time but also a couple who will having high chances to have children together. Fertility is a keyword for this card.

18: The Moon

So, at first I wasn't going to include this number but two of my family members got it the year they met their FS. So it caught my interest. This card can indicate meeting someone you'll want children with. And it is also a sign of fertility. This number can then be an indicator of meeting your FS since it also talks about meeting someone you'll feel at home and comfortable with, and perhaps meeting someone who is a soulmate too. I have also noticed a pattern with this number: both my relative who got this number met their FS while being in a relationship! Perhaps this can be an indicator...

19: The Sun

AH the Sun! The happy card! The Sun to me makes it obvious we need to add the number 19. This number will bring great happiness and joy into your life, so this can be a year you can meet your FS since they will usually (I wish you that at least), great happiness. This card represents union, a couple that is a great fit for one another, but also a couple that is very tender and wish to build a future together. But it also represents universal and unconditional love!

20: Judgment

The number 20 can be another indicator of meeting your FS. That number is about meeting a person who will be a major meeting in our life. It's also about love at first sight. But also about our destiny. So we could be meeting someone who was meant for us.

22: The Fool

This is the last card in the Major arcana, and it usually represents a meeting a new person in a very unexpected way. But it also represents honeymoon, and meeting a passionate lover. While this can be surprising for others, I think it's important to remember this card represents endings leading to new beginnings. So yes, this can also be an indicator.

Examples

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My mom was a 10 when she met my dad.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My dad only married my step mother, and he had number 10 the year he met her.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ The year I met my FS online I was a 6.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ And the year we met in real life I was a 16!

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Both my grandma and my aunt were a 18 when they met their FS, yet both met them at a time they were already in a relationship!

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grandfather was a 20 when he met my grandma.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My other grandma was also a 10 when she met my other grandfather.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My FS was a 16 when we first met and 5 when we met in real life.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ One of my best friend was a 5 the first time she met her FS.

Getting Engaged / Marriage Numbers

2: The Popess

5: The Hierophant

6: The Lovers

7: The Chariot

This card is about moving, and things moving fast, forward. An engagement or a wedding is a new step in a relationship, so this card can be an indicator.

8: The Justice

Marriage contract

10: The Wheel of Fortune

16: The Tower

19: The Sun

20: The Judgment

21: The World

22: The Fool

A new era of your life, something totally new coming.

Examples

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ When my dad and step mother married, she was a 21 and my dad was a 20.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grandma was an 8 when she got married for the second time.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grandfather was a 22 when he got married the second time.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My other grandmother was a 21 when she got married too.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My aunt was a 5 when she got married.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ If I follow my predictions, I will be an 8 or 16 when I'll get married.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My mother has indicators of getting married soon and she will be a 7 soon LOL.

Pregnancies/ Having Children Numbers

2: The Popess

The Popess represents the oldest woman, the woman who has knowledges and experiences, so it can also represents a nurse, or women who help during the pregnancies. And it is also a sign, as the card itself, of pregnancies. It is governed by the Moon. It represents the desire to have children, and also to be pregnant. It is also a sign of maternal wisdom or nurturing.

3: The Empress (for women specifically)

The Empress represents the woman, and it is a major number to have for years to be pregnant. I would say that it represents being pregnant best, and more if you are a woman actually. This card is represented by Venus, and it is a huge indicators of being pregnant, being fertile, and having children. Pregnancy is a huge theme on this card. The Empress represents the mother in Tarot.

4: The Emperor (for men specifically)

As the Empress represents the mother, the Emperor represents the father! So if you are a man, this can be an indicator of becoming a father a certain year.

6: The Lovers

It wasn't an indicator to me at first but I saw two of my family members being a 6 during pregnancies or when they had a child, so I have decided to mark it. I guess since the Lovers represents being two, and when a woman is pregnant, she is two (her + the child), it can be an indicator. Both of those family members had this indicator with their first children!

10: The Wheel of Fortune

The Wheel of Fortune isn't necessarily a pregnancy indicator in Tarot, at least not specifically. But, this card represents big change or transformation in one's life. So it's obvious it can mean something is changing. This can so indicate pregnancies, and if you are a woman, this can even indicate something is changing in your body!

13: Death

While Death represents change and transformation, it can also apply in this case in my opinion. It means new beginnings, it's a card that indicates deep change, so even physically and mentally. So this can mean deep change and transformation in your body, but also in your life, as having children brings total new beginnings.

16: The Tower

This card brings happy news and it's a card about fertility, and also men's fertility. It represents pregnancies in some cases as it brings happy news specially to the home.

17: The Stars

This card represents women, fertility, feeling harmonious, and wishes for pregnancies. It represents possible birth and children.

18: The Moon

This is a feminine card too! A card ruled by Cancer, and a big indicator for pregnancies and children. In Tarot, this totally represents being pregnant. It also represents the desire to be pregnant, and the action to fall pregnant (so s3x, but def in order to be pregnant).

19: The Sun

So, there are two reasons as to why I think this can be an indicator. First, this card represents happy news, and so this is obvious (generally) a pregnancy is a happy new. But this card is also ruled by the Sun & Leo, and it so is the card of children.

21: The World

The World is a card that can also represents pregnancies. First, it's a card that has more feminine and women energies. This card represent the end of a project, and it can be the outcome of a couple project (what do couples do together... iykyk), it also represents a perfect project.

Examples

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My mother had number 3 when she had me.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ When my step-mother was pregnant with my sister, she was a 18.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My aunt was a 10 during her first pregnancy.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ The next years she is a 13 and then 16, I am pretty sure she will fall pregnant again (I have astro indicator of having a new cousin this year).

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My dad was a 18 when my mom was pregnant, and a 10 when I was born.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ He was a 10 again when my brother was born.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grandma was a 21 when she was pregnant with her first child.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ Funny thing, my grandma was a 4 when she had my mother, but the story was that my grand father reallyyyy wanted a child that year.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My other grandma was a 21 when she had my aunt.

FS being a Foreigner Numbers

For this part, we will focus on the numbers near the hearts, and actually those three (see pictures). Those numbers are indicators and a way to describe your FS. In those numbers, you can see if your FS can be a foreigner. Here are some numbers can indicate such thing.

7: The Chariot

The Chariot is a card that represents the act of moving, and it can also indicate traveling. Despite it's not necessarily a card that means this, it is still connected to the world, since the Chariot goes and doesn't stop. It can go anywhere, so this can be an indicator of having a foreign spouse.

14: Temperance

Temperance is a card that is related to holidays and traveling for vacations, so this card can also be linked to the foreign world. This card also reminded me of the foreign land, foreign people and people who are open-minded. After all, Aquarius rule over this card, so it makes sense.

19: The Sun

This can be surprising, yet I don't think it's a major indicator, but it can still be. Actually, the Sun as a card represent countries that are hot, and places where we can go on vacations, so this is again linked to foreign lands and foreigners.

21: The World

This one is obvious, the World literally represents what it is meant to. This is the biggest indicator to me.

22: The Fool

The last card of the Tarot to me is an indicator of having a foreign spouse as well, and I would say in my opinion, 2nd biggest. This card is ruled by Uranus, so Aquarius too. This card represents the travelers, people who go and just want to discover, curiosity, it represents "everywhere".

Not a lot of people around me married foreigners for now, I don't have much examples, except my FS is a foreigner and I have a 22 number lol. But this is just my guesses since those are cards that are linked to foreign lands.

Being Single / Breaking Up / Divorce Numbers

1: The Magician

New beginnings, starting a new project, cheating, being cheated on etc.

7: The Chariot

Moving on, moving to someone/ something else/ searching for something else.

8: The Justice

Breaking a contract, divorce.

9: The Hermit

Wanting to be alone, being left alone, someone breaking up with us, breaking up and staying single, being single.

10: The Wheel of Fortune

Change, suddenly breaking up, changing partner, passing from one partner to the other, etc.

12: The Hanged Man

Stop of a relationship, breaking up, divorce, the end of a relationship, leaving a partner.

13: Death

End of a relationship, divorce, separation, break up, being heart broken.

14: Temperance

End of a relationship, breaking up, could be a break up in good term, but also a break up because of miscommunication, couple not being made for each other.

15: The Devil

Cheating, being cheated on, doing terrible things against your partner, or your partner being terrible things to you, divorce, break up, leaving your partner for someone else, your partner leaving you for someone else, having bad intentions.

16: The Tower

Break up, divorce, separation, fights, arguments, cheating, being cheated on, breaking up on bad terms.

21: The World

Being rejected by your partner, being cheated on, partner breaking up with you, couple failing, couple not being made for each other, divorce, break up, cheating, wanting adventures.

22: The Fool

End of a relationship, stepping away from a partner, wanting to be single, being single, wanting to go on adventures, cheating, being cheated on, a partner leaving us, sudden endings.

Examples

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ When my mom and dad divorced, my mom was a 13. My dad was a 10.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My step mother was a 12 when she and my dad divorced.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ I was a 16 when I had a big break up with one of my ex who cheated on me (and then made me believe it was my fault lmao).

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My aunt left her partner to be with her current husband the year she was a 10.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My dad was a 12 the year he got divorced from my step mother.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grand father was a 12 when he left his first wife.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grand mother was a 10 when she left her first husband for my grand father.

⋆.˚₊˚⊹ ᰔ My grandmother was a 8 when she got divorced from my grandfather.

Thank you for reading!

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