#this is more just me trying to gauge where I’m at with my emotions and somehow writing them out makes that easier

[grahstumhurts]

2. Putting it into gear

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader

A/N Not proof read lol so it might have some weird wording and shit.

The late May air is starting to feel slightly humid and hot as it usually does by this time, Megan's waiting outside. Leaning on the side of the school fence looking effortlessly beautiful as she does.

“Hey” you greet her, “What did you need to talk about?” She looks up from her phone, then looks around behind you to see if people are watching.

“Look, I owe you an apology and-” 

“That's an understatement.” You cut her off. “Two years of ignoring me should get me something better than an apology”

“Just hear me out” 

She looks you in the eyes, Her pupils glistening with the caramelised apple colour it's always been.

“Please,” 

“Fine” You cross your arms in anticipation “You gonna tell me or what?”

“I need to fake date you, for friendship reasons I guess.” Obviously that stuns you, A girl you had a crush on for the past ten years of your life is suddenly asking you to fake date her. 

“What?” Your face contorts in a mix of surprise and confusion “Why me?”

“You're the only gay person I know, I’m trying to come out to them and they won't believe me till I date someone who fits their “Gay” vision” She sighs, her face portrays her obviously conflicted emotions. “Look its okay if you won't do it, You don't owe me anything especially since i abandoned you but at least sleep on it for me.”

She pauses, trying to read your face, noticing the slight differences in your eyes.

“I also needed to say sorry, I wasn't there when I promised I would be.” 

“I wont accept your apology for now, you need to earn my trust back, Megan.”

 You sigh at the dilemma, do you chose to help her with her fake dating thing, or do you leave her behind. 

“I’ll help you under one condition, We will stay friends afterwards.” 

You expect her to say no, the wavering tone in your voice saying so.

“Thank you so much, seriously I appreciate this. I owe you, N/n” She hugs you, Her scent lingering of fresh citrus and light berries. Her arms wrap around your waist, you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders.

“We need to figure out a plan for this whole situation.” You comment as you two break the hug, still feeling the lingering warmth of her. 

“Are you free this week to meet up?” 

“Tuesdays and Thursdays I meet up with my band, any other day we can meet up after school.”

“How about wednesday? I have practice, can you come watch and we can go somewhere after?” The thought of her friends seeing you makes your skin crawl as your reputation with these “Popular” people is not exactly great. Considering that you and Lara are the ones who stand up to Greg when he feels the need to degrade Yoonchae. You may or may not have gotten into some physical altercations with said Greg. 

“Sure, It’ll sell the idea that we are dating a bit more,” It’s a trade off that is worth it to make Megan happy. You shrug just as her phone rings, Her ringtone was not the same as the one you had remembered her to have. It had been her favourite song, Perfect Lover by Britney Spears. But now it's one of those default ones, Removing some of the personality from her.

“Yeah?"

"Oh, Okay."

"I’ll see you soon, Mom. Love you bye”

You can vaguely hear her moms voice throughout the quick phone call, her familiar tone isn't something you can forget easily. 

“You gotta go I assume?” you pick at your nails, “I can walk you home if you want?” You look up to her, trying to gauge her reaction through her body language. “Unless you dont want me to.. You know what forget i even said-”

“NO!” She suddenly cuts you off mid sentence “I mean, No” She clears her throat repeating her affirmation in a softer tone, “it’d be nice for my mom to see you again, She used to ask me about you all the time.” She presses her lips into a line, her face covered with embarrassment. 

“Lead the way,” You slightly smile at the thought that her mom still wondered where you had been all this time, She starts walking in the direction of her house. Making small talk to catch up on each others lives during the two years of absence, Your hands brushing together as you walk on the pavement.

“I missed you, you know that right?”

The smallness in her voice juxtaposes her usually large demeanour.

“I hoped you did,”

You chuckle slightly,

“I missed you too.”

“This is me,” she stops in front of the house you used to know, “You wanna stay for dinner? I mean you don't have to or anything.”

“Sure, It’ll be nice to say hi to your mom.” She leads you into her house, The recognisable scent of her moms cooking wafting into your nostrils. Filling your senses with memories of years prior. “Do we have to fake date in front of your mom aswell?” You tease her, Slipping off your shoes.

“Yeah, I guess so..” She replies nervously, just as her Mom wraps around the corner from the kitchen. “Hey, I brought home a special someone.” 

“Oh my gosh, YN! I didn't realise you were coming tonight for dinner.” She embraces you in a warm hug. “Feels like I haven't seen you in forever.” She lightly jabs at Megan with her elbow. 

“Just been busy with school work and college applications, you know how it is.” You lightly giggle at Megan’s mom’s actions. “Glad to see you Mrs. Skiendiel”

“Oh please, Yn. You know not to call me that, Just aunty is okay.” 

-

“Wow aunty, this is seriously delicious.” You moan as you wolf down the rice and pork on your plate. “I'm grateful that your cooking skills haven't deteriorated in the period I haven't seen you” You say in between bites.

“Im happy you like it, feel free to come over and eat when you want to, Honey” She chuckles

“Uhm Mom, We have something to talk about with you.” Megan’s words shift the energy at the table. You swallow your latest bite and glance at Megan, Giving her a reassuring look. 

“You guys are dating? I know, it's not that much of a shock.” Aunty takes the words out of Megan's mouth, “I've been patiently waiting when you two would realise your feelings for eachother. I have a standing bet with your mom, Yn.” She matter-a-factly comments,

“No funny business in my house alright?” 

“Yes aunty, I don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready. Don't worry”

You try to clear the air quickly, Megan grabs your hand on the table. Interlocking her fingers with your ring clad ones, The slightly cold metal meeting her warm skin. The embarrassment of your words settling in with the two of you.

“I wouldn't dare hurt Megan, I hope you know that aunty.” You stupidly grin at her.

“I know, Yn. Just double checking, I know how you teenagers can be.” She lets out a deep sigh of relaxation. “I have some work to do. all I need you guys to do is the dishes, can you two handle that?” She squints her eyes at us, 

“Yeah, dont worry about it, Mom.” Megan stands and starts clearing the plates from the table, You follow her actions grabbing plates and silverware and bringing them to the sink in the kitchen. 

“I’ll be in the office working if you need me, Good night you two.” Megan’s Mom announces before the door closes.

“Oh my god i swear that was the most awkward i've been with your mom in forever.” You let out a deep sigh as you lean against the kitchen counter, Megan places down the rest of the dishes.

“Yeah no that was really awkward.” She giggles “Yes aunty i don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready” She mockingly says in your tone of voice. You shove her shoulder lightly. 

“Come on lets finish the dishes, I rinse, you dry?” You stand over the sink, turn on the sink and scrub the dinner plates with a soapy sponge.

“Mhm, sounds like a solid plan” She hums, picking up the drying towel from the towel rack as you start to hand her some rinsed dishes. You cheekily smile to yourself as you get a devious idea. Megan is suddenly met with a warm splash of water from the sink head

“You did not just do that” She looks at you astonished, Mouth agape. “You little shit, Yn” 

“Such hurtful words require punishment” You giggle as you spray her with more water,

“What the fuck!” She squeals, feeling the water soak her shirt, “that's not fair, i don't have a sink to spray you too.” Suddenly it seems as Megan gets an idea for your payback.

“Come here, YN. Give me, your girlfriend, A hug. why don't you?” 

“No! I'm not gonna hug you, Meg. You gotta catch me first.” She roars with laughter as she chases after you in the kitchen. 

“Im gonna get you!” She loudly shouts, Running you into the corner of the kitchen.

“I’ve got you trapped now don't i?” She pants.

“I guess so, And what are you gonna do about it?”

You tease her, She pulls you into a wet hug “Eughhhh, it's so cold” You groan feeling her damp top spread the water on your shirt. She pulls away, Snickering at the sight of your now also damp shirt, 

“You get what's coming for you.”

“Can i atleast borrow a shirt or something?” You pull your shirt away from your chest to unstick it from your skin.

“Yeah, Come on. Let's go upstairs and dry off.” She grasps her hand with yours, Her nails graze your wrist. She drags you up the stairs into her room. You stare in awe, It looks similar to when you were last here but different at the same time.

“You took down the BTS posters?” You take a glance at her as she rummages through her closet for two shirts.

“Figured it was time to grow up i guess” She sighs and pulls out the shirts. 

“You sure it wasnt just your new friends pressuring you? Not that it really matters honestly, just curious.”

“Yes its fine, seriously, YN. I dont get whats your problem is right now, they were just posters.” She throws a purple oversized shirt at you.

“Just asking, No offence and all that” You exhale deeply, “Should i go to the bathroom and change or?” She just nods and you take that as your sign to leave the room.

You reenter the room and she's laying on her bed, Phone in hand. You knock on the door frame, she glances up then pats the side of the bed for you to sit down.

“Sorry by the way. Its not really my place to ask those types of questions.” You sit on the end of her bed.

“Its okay, I'm sorry too by the way. I overreacted a tad.” You observe as she hesitates to interlock hands, You take action as you interlock your pinkies together. 

"I guess i realized how much you've changed. And i guess i wasn't ready to fully realize it." You lay next to her, Brushing shoulders.

[girlvinland]

This is a post I don't really feel good about writing, but at the same time, it's something I feel like I keep wanting to vent about and that I don't really...have enough places to vent about. I have my therapist, but I feel like even then, I can't unload it all on her bc I feel like I never have enough time even if it comes up here and there. Unloading it on other people who aren't her typically leads to them going on the defensive about the things I want to talk about, even when I try to be gentle or more objective in discussing it. I feel like here is one of the places I usually feel okay talking (even though I know that's probably stupid in some ways), but idk. It's comfortable because it's familiar and bc my words aren’t being directed at any one person. Sorry this is really long, btw.

I feel like I've talked about sexuality so much the past year or so, and I feel like I've taken so long, like...longer than a lot of people...to fully unravel things about myself. My teens were reserved for me barely scratching the surface of anything bc I was petrified of it and had zero exposure to anything that would have helped me in any way. My twenties were like, the first stage of my actual exploration and unfurling, where I was like...wait...this is a viable option? Other people are like this...I'm meeting people who understand. Does that mean I could let myself have that option too? But I still went on like no...no. I'm basically meant to live someone else's life and not seek out any further answers. The past five years I did seek out more answers and really did a lot of work, and that's like...still quite a long time to sort through some of this (or at least, it feels that way).

All of that is just history now though, so it’s not actually what I want to discuss. The thing that I don't feel good about is how my emotions have felt wrt everything currently. I've started to feel like such a bitter person for it, but I don't know if, in some way, the things I feel are justified after years of trying to understand my relationship to the world at large and how my sexuality relates to it. I want to believe that they are and that I'm just at a stage where I can experience these emotions fully in ways I haven’t before and that eventually they'll start to mellow out.

For instance, the past couple of years I've started to become somewhat like…irrationally irritated when it comes to hearing about boyfriends/husbands/etc of my friends who are cis women. Sometimes in general, but mostly when it's in the context of someone complaining about their partner in a day-to-day sort of way. The normalization of that in a heteronormative society has started to become something I just…really dislike hearing about. After going through my own “straight-passing” relationships (idk if this term is ok to use and I’ll change it if not), I almost feel like I just don't have the time or care for it anymore, even when I want to be supportive. Also, it’s hard for me to not apply my own experiences and biases, and a part of me always ends up wanting to be like. If you aren't happy, please try and do something to fix it. Converse with your partner about it. Leave if it's bad enough that you can't deal with it anymore. Get a therapist for yourself or both of you to work things out. Idk. It feels unfair for me to be like that when family or friends want to vent, but I also find it so hard to deal with now or like, it sends my brain to the boomer comic “I hate my wife but I’m just going to complain and not doing anything to change it” realm (and I understand that a lot of times, it is the partner who has little interest in changing things even when the other person is trying, which is even more frustrating to some extent).

The other thing I feel guilty about is this disdain I've developed of hearing about cis male celebrities/characters/crushes in more heterosexual regards (I want to specify that this doesn’t mean I actively dislike the celebs or characters or anything like that, not usually anyway. There are a ton of male chars I enjoy and everything, and tbh idc that much about celebrities in general). I feel like for the past few years I've been going through a period where I'm so tired of being exposed to it though (even with my own chars being sexualized by other ppl tbh) and all I want to do is to engage in media/culture that somehow dismantles anything cisheteronormative or that focuses on couples that aren’t cis/straight (I’ve esp sought out so much more wlw-adjacent media in recent years bc I’ve found myself connecting to it in a way that’s like…holy shit I want to make up for years of things I didn’t have access to or didn’t know existed).

Unfortunately, sometimes I feel like talking about that more often leads to a level of anger or annoyance on the part of people who don't feel that way, even though there is so much less media and discussion about those things in general. A lot of this is more relevant to irl straight friends I have and stuff, where it's fine for them to talk about all of the things they like when it relates to men or romance centered around men, but I don't necessarily have the same ability/level of acceptance from them to discuss media focused on anything else wrt romance/sexuality. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of queer friends and whatnot, but most of them live elsewhere now (I also live elsewhere from many of them) and in general, the majority of people I'm exposed to in regular life are usually straight bc statistically that's just how it is and everything. It frustrates me though how it feels so acceptable for them to talk about whatever male celebrity/char or straight romance thing is popular, but I just kind of have to stand there and nod while wishing I could talk about the stuff I like too when it comes to like, wlw/lesbian media or whatever. That sounds selfish, but I feel like it reflects society’s general view on anything queer, and I think that’s why it gets to me more. Like maybe it wouldn’t bother me so much if that wasn’t the default/if I could speak about things as freely too. I know a lot of people feel that way, I don’t mean to make that or any of this post sound like some experience that is unique to me.

Anyway. I'm sorry if this vent comes off as weird or abrasive at all. It's really, really not my intention, nor is it directed at any one person or relationship and is more just a reflection on how my emotions are now when I think about cisheternormative society and that kind of thing. In the past I was able to kind of...blind myself to a lot of it, I think, or at least be more jokey about it in the times when it did annoy me. And after the years of working to distance myself from it, these aspects of it have started to seem really pervasive, even more so than I felt they were before. Like I said, I don't feel good about feeling these things and I don't want to always feel them. I hope I can work through them and get to a place where they don't bother me, or at least, not as much as now. I truly think it's a situation of like…breaking free of my own binds/feeling this freedom now and seeing things in a different light than I was able to before when I had the blinders on, and maybe once I settle into myself more, I’ll be able to shake those emotions off or find better ways to cope with them. I feel like a lot of this is stuff that’s always existed and always will, and the ways in which society operates are very hard to change, but I can kind of adapt the way I see and experience things so that they’re healthier for me. I’m just. Still in the early stages of doing that, and maybe it will take a little time to understand how to make it more productive/easier for myself. I didn’t get to this place overnight, and I’m sure I have a lot more to learn on this particular journey.

[haechoxo]

[7:07 pm]

cw; suggestive lol,,

“it wasn’t supposed to be complicated,” you admit, your voice softening. “we were both stressed with school and work, and it just… happened. i thought maybe, eventually, he’d see me as more than just a friend. but now… i don’t know what to think.” you feel a lump forming in your throat, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you as you recall the day your arrangement with haechan started.

your tiny apartment was filled with the scent of coffee and the sound of pages turning. you and haechan were huddled at the coffee table, textbooks, notes, and highlighters spread out before you. finals week was taking its toll, and the exhaustion was evident in both your expressions.

haechan stretched, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “ugh, i can’t take it anymore. my brain feels like mush!”

not glancing up from your notes, stifling a yawn of your own. “just a few more days, and we can sleep for a week.”

he smirked, leaning back on his arms where he sat on the dingy rug. “or, you know, we could find a more fun way to relieve some stress.”

you raised an eyebrow, too tired to fully engage with his antics. “like what? please don’t say more coffee, because i’m pretty sure it’s running through our veins at this point.”

he leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “nah, i was thinking something a bit more… intimate.”

your pen paused mid-sentence, finally looking at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. “intimate, huh? like what, a hug?”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “we could fuck.”

you stared at him, dumbfounded, your fatigue momentarily forgotten as your mouth felt incredibly dry, “a-are you serious?”

“dead serious,” he replied, his tone playful as he shrugs, “we’re both stressed, and we’re best friends, what better way to work it out?”

you blinked, trying to process his suggestion, not that the offer wasn’t tempting, the amount of times you pictured kissing his perfect pouty lips, but still! “donghyuck, i don’t… what if it makes things weird?”

he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “it won’t, i promise. we’re adults, we can handle this. besides, if we can’t help each other out, who can we rely on?”

you chewed on your lower lip, his words doing little to ease the anxiety bubbling up inside you. “i don’t know, hyuck….” all you can think about is your feelings bubbling over, and he finds out in the worst way possible.

“come on, y/n,” he coaxed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hand. “trust me, it’s fine, it’ll be fun!”

you sighed, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “okay, but if this goes badly, i’m blaming you entirely.”

he grinned, joining you on the couch, “deal. now, let’s get out of study mode for a bit. my brain needs a break from all this academic torture.”

the air between you charged with anticipation as he sat down beside you, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. you hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with what-ifs, but haechan’s gentle touch and soft smile as he leaned closer gave you the reassurance you needed.

“still okay?” he murmured, his breath warm on your skin.

“yeah,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “just... nervous.”

“don’t be shy,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face. “it’s just me, remember?”

you nodded, his lips brushing yours softly at first, testing the waters. your heart raced as you kissed him back, the familiarity of his presence merging with the freshness of the situation, it almost felt natural. he deepened the kiss, one hand finding it’s way to your waist, pulling you closer, while his other held your face, thumb caressing your cheek.

kissing him was everything you imagined it would be—gentle, yet intense, filled with unspoken emotions and years of hidden feelings. as his lips moved against yours, you felt a mixture of relief and uncertainty, the weight of your decision pressing down on you.

just as the kiss began to deepen further, you pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his, breathing heavily as he continued, kissing down your neck.

as if he’s done it a million times before.

“can i keep going?” he whispered against the column of your neck, his voice low.

previous - next

a/n ; erm… can u tell it was my first time writing a kiss scene🤓 im actually sooo grossed out this was an experience i never thought id breach the topic of… anyway! hope u enjoy!! advice n ur thoughts are appreciated! xoxo jelly

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

words: 811

rating: G

summary: basically there are too many things about Gale being 'the perfect husband' and having 'the perfect marriage with him', but even the best couples have bad days and fight.

----------------------------------🟣---------------------------------------

It’s been hours. And the two of you still hadn’t talked.

You pull the covers tighter around your body. Surely a pseudo comforting mechanism to make up for the phantom cold you were feeling. It was an emotional chill, not physical. This might be the first night in a long while that you might go to bed alone, and it’s certainly the first night in a while you aren’t going exactly willingly.

You and Gale had a huge fight. You can’t even remember what started it exactly. It was something small. Simple. Yet it seemed neither one of you were willing to get over your mole hill and now there was a chasm between your two mountains.

Playing the fight over in your mind, you were trying to figure out where you went wrong….

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous!” You snap back at Gale. “Ridiculous. Yes. I’m being ridiculous because I asked you to help out in your own house.”

“And I said I would get to it later!” Gale snapped back. He rubbed his temples with his hand across his eyes. “Gods above, would it kill you to have a little patience from time to time??”

“Perhaps. If we had it your way we’d still be on that beach by the nautiloid for how long your ‘laters’ take.”

Your husband glared at you. “Insulting my character. My, what a fine fall we’ve made for decorum in this house.”

“I’m not insulting your character, Gale. But what about you! You just called me ridiculous and that’s not insulting my character?!”

“It’s not insulting your character if it’s true! And you’re being ridiculous!”

It had all gone downhill from there. More insults. More backbiting. You both said things you didn’t mean, like you saying you should have stayed in the Gate if this was how things were going to be and Gale wishing he still had his orb because it seemed the only way to get out of this conversation.

He had taken off not long after that with an “I’m done” and stalked off to some remote, quite corner of the tower to cool off. You hadn’t seen him since.

Now that the fight was over, and night was closing in, you wished you could talk to apologize. But you didn't want to be the one to go to him. You didn't want to 'lose'. Which you knew was toxic and childish, but you couldn't help the way you felt.

So, that never happened and for the first night in a long while that you go to bed alone. Quiet tears on your pillow.

The next morning you wake up. Face puffy. Eyes red. No real sleep to call your own, so you went downstairs to get coffee.

You find Gale already there. His own cup in his hand. Looking equally disheveled and un-well rested. But, and most importantly, another cup across the counter in front of him. It’s steam wafting up from the mug so you knew it was fresh. Cautiously, you move to the counter and take it. “Are we still fighting?”

“Do you want to keep fighting?” Gale asked back. Not trying to instigate the fight again, but gauge your commitment to continue it.

“No. I don’t.” You sip your coffee carefully. Even though you’re fighting, it was still perfect. “Where did you sleep?”

“In my study.” There is an ornate couch in there. Leather. Expensive. More of an art piece than a comfortable piece of furniture. His lack of sleep may just be from trying to sleep on that rather than the tossing & turning you did last night. “I didn’t think you’d want me.”

“You could have come to bed.”

You probably wouldn’t have talked, and it would still be ‘cold’, but it was still his bed too. “I don’t like it when we fight.”

“It’s not my ideal way to spend an evening either, my love.” Though he said it his ‘my love’ doesn’t have the same warmth in it it normally does. “Look…I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You apologize back. “I didn’t mean to….”

“We both said things we didn’t mean.”

The two of you sip your respective coffees. Not really sure where to go from here. Yes, you apologized. The fight was over. But apologies weren’t like the incantations Gale threw around all the time. They weren’t actually magic words to make all the hurt you felt a moment ago go away.

“Do you want a hug?”

He didn't say anything, but Gale sat down his coffee and came around the counter to you. You both wrap your arms around each other, but it’s awkward. Stiff. There is love between you in the hug, but that chasm you built last night was making it harder to each one another. It would fill. You both would mend. But for now it was just going to be a little uncomfortable around the house.

The two of you separate and go back to your coffees. Sticking to safe topics like what you would like for breakfast. Hopefully you couldn’t disagree to harshly on that.

[chochuuya]

his muse.

fashion designer mitsuya x reader

disclaimers: slight angst, tension, lots of back and forth.. possessive mitsuya yup yup |･ω･)

word count: 685

“why?” mitsuya asks, not looking up from his sewing machine. “you’re my model. i’m not fighting for your time with another man (y/n).”

he’s always had an obsession with beautiful things. you’re no exception, so you can’t leave him.

all of his designs are catered to you. when he sees you smile, or hears you laugh, he’s already sketching another. he shuts the machine off, looking at you.

“do you not like the clothes i make anymore?” he asks, brows furrowing. because why else would you leave?

you chew your bottom lip as you fidget on your hands. it’s always nerve wracking to talk to mitsuya when he’s tense.

“it’s nothing like that, takashi. trust me, your designs are par to none! it’s just that.. i want to dress more and for others too? i am still your model, yes but i’m just signing up for more houses.”

he frowns.

“my designs are for you and you alone. we established this (y/n).”

you know mitsuya is stubborn, and once he gets an idea into his head, it doesn’t budge easily. he takes his designs seriously and doesn’t like to see his models modelling for other designers. the thought of you modelling for anyone else makes him feel jealous and angry, and he struggles to mask it.

you shake your head in protest.

“takashi. of course you had and have support me enough up to this point, but i just thought i could get more experience if i get myself out there more you know?” you reasoned.

“you don’t need to get more experience, you’re perfect!” he exclaims with eyes pleading.

“my designs are made with you in mind (y/n), and they look best on you! the other designers won’t be able to replicate my work. they’ll probably mess it all up.” mitsuya continues, “you could ruin your reputation modelling for someone else, no one would want your image on their projects anymore!”

he stops, breathless for a few seconds.

“you’re my muse..” he says quietly. “you’re all i’ve got, don’t you see that?”

you sighed in defeat.

“how am i supposed to grow as a model when i’m not getting out of my comfort zone, takashi? i admire you and your talented quality crafts but please, try to understand me!”

he glares at you, anger in his eyes.

“i don’t want you to grow, (y/n)!" he shouts.

“i want you to be mine and only mine. if you can't understand that then- then-" he stops himself before he gets too carried away.

“i understand that you have your own goals and aspirations but i’d rather you keep me in mind too.”

he steps back, breathing rapidly.

“i’m sorry, i- i shouldn’t have yelled.” he pauses, trying to get ahold of his emotions.

“you have other models too, mitsuya..”

“but i want you to be my main model.” he says, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“you’re my best, and i can help you far better than anyone else ever could. you’re my muse and inspiration. i just- i don’t want that to change.” he added.

you thought of what he said so, there was silence for a mere moment before you break the ice.

“there’s something else you’re not telling me. i know you.” you said with your arms crossed.

he narrows his eyes at you, not liking being accused of hiding something.

“and what do you think that is?” mitsuya asks icily. he wants to hear what you think it is, but won’t admit it just yet.

“i don’t know. you tell me.”

mitsuya is silent for a moment, debating over whether or not to let you in on his secret. his eyes scan your face, trying to gauge your trustworthiness. you’d never betrayed his trust before, so why not now?

finally, he speaks, his voice softer.

“i didn’t want to tell you because i knew you’d be upset. but... i’m in love with you (y/n)." mitsuya says quietly, looking at you.

“i’ve been in love with you for years.”

...

maybe hakkai and yuzuha should come by another day.

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

ngl that one panel where he fixes takemichi's suit is just *nosebleeds* (＿ ＿*) anyway, i hope you like this one! reblogs & likes are vv appreciated ♡

[mommyownsmee]

how can i be a better domme to my partner? i have no experience and am nervous about trying to domme. they're into praise and degradation too and im not good at that

Being a good Domme starts in your own mind. You can‘t be a good Domme unless you understand the psychology of submission and why your Sub wants to be submissive and why you have the need to be dominant.

First you have to find out what you like and what you don‘t like. What do you want and what are your no-go‘s?

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You always have to remind yourself that BDSM and every session is for both of you. A part of your role as a Domme is to nurture your Sub into someone who is comfortable with her sexuality, and being able to enjoy everything that she wants to do and feel without feeling guilty about it.

Some Subs are completely at ease with sex, their bodies and their fantasies. Others have issues with all or some of those topics. As a good Domme you must understand and accept this and not push their boundaries.

There is a Domme code I once did read and I still think it’s perfect to remember in every situation: „Leave your Sub better than you found her.“

Of course you’re not her therapist, but you can do your part to make her feel great about sex and BDSM.

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Whenever a Sub comes to you as a Domme, you have to be able to quickly gauge where she lies on the submissive spectrum. This means you need to find out: What does she need in the first place, what does she want, etc.

I know this sounds complicated for someone without any experience, but you‘ll learn it after some time.

Just listen to your girl. She will tell you what she needs and wants. Your job is to fulfill those needs. Don't assume your own way is right. Often it is not. Always talk to your Submissive, never only do what you want.

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As I began to be a Domme myself, l've been learning how to present myself strong and dominant. This taught me that showing them that you can be strong and brutal is way more powerful as a turn on than being actively brutal with them.

Don’t believe you have to shout to make your Sub do something for you. I almost never raise my voice. A raised voice indicates annoyance, aggression and loss of control – everything that is the opposite of being a calm and in control Domme. Often a quieter voice is far more effective. As an example, suppose your Sub answers back. An eyebrow raise and an “Excuse me?” said quietly whilst maintaining eye contact with her works wonders.

You don't have to be brutal and treat your girl aggressively to be a Domme. Being a Dominant is not about aggression, manipulation or abuse.

You won’t always get your own way. In fact, being the Domme in the relationship often equals more work, because you now have to look after two people (yourself and your Sub). As much as she is there to serve and attend to your needs, you must attend to hers and not take advantage of her eagerness to please without giving her back anything in return.

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Some more tips:

Whether you are a beginner or professional Dom, you are never going to get it right all the time. Make light of your mistakes and your Sub will too.

There’s no need to be heavy and intense all the time. You don’t have to approach this with the solemnity of a politician delivering bad news. If your personality is naturally jovial and light-hearted then incorporate that into your play. Laugh and have fun with your sub.

Being a good Domme does not mean you have to enjoy all aspects of BDSM. I don’t like inflicting pain, for example, and I’m not that into leather. Does that make me a bad Domme? No. Don’t try and do everything. Learn what you and your partner enjoy and stick to that.

Everything you do should be consensual. Never force someone to do something they do not want to do or is going to cause long term physical or emotional harm. Remember the principle of Safe, Sane and Consensual (SSC) at all times.

Not owning up to mistakes. If you make a mistake, admit it and apologise if necessary. There’s a real strength in being able to admit your flaws.

It’s wrong to demand submission too soon. Some Dominants expect their partner or date to be submissive right from the off. This isn’t how it works. You must earn her submission. A Sub must respect and trust you before she is willing to submit to you. Don’t be the dumbass who starts ordering someone around on a first date.

Expecting submission outside the bedroom. Not all submissives (or dominants) enjoys submitting in everyday life, and you shouldn’t expect them to. Some subs want to be treated roughly during sex, but return to an equal power status afterwards. Some want an unequal power dynamic 24 hours a day.

If you aren’t clear in communicating your desires, or make your rules too complicated, or haven’t written them down, you can’t expect your Sub to follow them. Consider writing a BDSM contract for clarity.

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Execute your dominance slowly but progressively, learning where her and your boundaries are. Don‘t overstep them ever.

When you both have set your boundaries, respect them, but (of course depending on the situation/person/kind if boundary) play with balancing just on the edge. You could end up pushing their boundaries and either make her and you feel bad or make you both enjoy it in the end. You definitely have to talk to your Sub before doing anything.

Definitely talk after every session in great extent. No matter if it was a session over 5 minutes or 5 hours. Have your Sub tell you every detail they liked and didn't like, what they thought you could do better, etc.

In the same way, tell them how you felt.

Trust your Sub. She is a grown woman and more than capable of telling you if she believes you are taking advantage of her or if you‘re doing everything right.

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Find a mentor, someone who knows a lot about BDSM and is in the scene for a long time already and ask them all your questions. Ask them for help if you need.

Try to talk to many Dommes before you settle for one. Get a wide spectrum of answers, verify those answers against one another and as you find a trustworthy mentor, listen to how the answers from other places differs from theirs.

Experienced kink folk are the ones that have already screwed up and carry the scars from it. Learn from their scars instead of making that same mistake yourself.

Become a member of the community. Find out who is good and what makes them good. Who is bad at it and what makes them bad.

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Your Sub should know it's your first time domming. If you mess up, it's entirely okay to laugh about it. No shame, you're learning. You will feel more confident if you can laugh about it.

If you are not having fun, don't be afraid to say „Ok, this isn't working“ or „I'd prefer if we do this and this and this instead right now, want to change the plan?“.

Never change plans without bringing up a solution and ask that if your Sub has a complaint, that she comes with a solution following her complaint. This is so you aren't left feeling like all the responsibilities are on you.

This helps not break the Sub from their state of mind, it makes you dominant and handle the scene. It also leaves a space for the Sub to negotiate these new terms without breaking characters.

If no one is having fun, you both aren't doing it right and are probably just not compatible. Be honest, speak your mind, trust your partner as much as they trust you.

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Not everything you read online will suit you. Don’t think you have to do something just because another Domme is doing it.

For example, if you don’t like spanking, don’t do it. It doesn’t make you less of a Domme.

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Since it's your first time, make sure your Sub knows that you might need aftercare as a Domme too, but that you might not know what you need yet. Some people like to cuddle in silence, some like to talk about it all and others like me needs a shower right after sex. Don't be ashamed of not knowing what you want, but make sure you can voice it out as you go.

I recommand for you both to take the bdsmtest.org before you start domming. It will help you find out more about yourself and your Sub.

Afterwards, you should read a lot about the kinks that were shown you as the most compatible.

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A Mommy Domme exhibit caregiving tendencies and enjoy the softer, more tender qualities of caring for someone else. They are often paired with Littles and provide a motherly type figure or role model to guide their Sub. Mommy Dommes and little girl dynamics are often referred to as MDLG (Mommy Domme Little Girl) or CLG (Caregiver Little Girl).

A sadist Domme enjoys inflicting pain on her submissive, who is referred to as a masochist (or a „pain slut“, if she is not offended by that language). The sadist Domme will be interested in bondage, spanking, flogging and perhaps even inflicting pain during sexual activity. A sadist Domme may also enjoy humiliating or degrading her submissive through words, during sex, or when punishing her.

A Lady Domme is paired with a slave or service-orientated submissive. In this style of Domme and Sub dynamic the Lady treats her Submissive as property, and they engage in sexual and non-sexual play. For example, the Submissive might be responsible for maintaining the household, cooking dinner, or being a sexual plaything for the Lady Domme to enjoy. They might engage in slave training where the Submissive learns what the Lady Domme enjoys and how to perform her duties.

An owner Domme may refer to ownership for a submissive slave, but may also refer to owning a Submissive who enjoys acting like a pet. During pet play the Domme would serve the Sub food from a bowl on the floor, wear a collar and sleep in a cage.

A Caregiver/romantic Domme enjoys nurturing her Sub. She helps her achieve her goals and may be involved in making choices in her life such as what clothes she wears and what she eats.

A financial Domme controls the money of her submissive.

A rigger Domme enjoys rope either for the appeal of seeing her Sub tied up and restrained or simply for the beautiful ropework.

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The thing that changes degrading from an act of bullying to a source of pleasure is context and consent. Sex and real life are not the same. The difference between what you are comfortable with in the bedroom versus in a real life or public scenario entirely depends on consent and the element of choice.

The understanding that consent is key to incorporating degrading should not be taken lightly. In order for everyone involved to feel safe and find pleasure from degradation, there needs to be regular talks about limits, boundaries, and what you want to gain from the scene. In the heat of the moment, it can be easy for a degradation scene to be taken too far, even with one simple comment or act.

Due to this, it is essential to have advanced planning before attempting any act of degradation. Safewords should also be established, allowing anyone in the scene to give the warning to slow down or stop the scene completely if needed. All parties need to express what they are and are not comfortable with doing or saying. Someone may express that they want to have certain parts of their bodies insulted, but the other person involved may not be comfortable saying these insulting terms. That is absolutely okay but should be discussed prior to the scene. Everyone involved is allowed to have boundaries, and they need to be respected.

The intention behind degrading is to bring intense feelings of humiliation or embarrassment, and because of the emotions that can stem from this, aftercare is a must. Aftercare provides reassurance and affirmation, creating a feeling of safety and respect that was not present during the degrading scene. 

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On the complete opposite spectrum to degradation, some Subs find arousal from praise. There is nothing some Submissives love more than positive reinforcement. Whilst praise can be verbal, there can be physical elements incorporated. A pat on her head or a kiss on her forehead can be just as good as a verbal affirmation. When giving out compliments, make sure to be sincere in your praises. Half-hearted compliments will be noticed, and your goal of making your Sub feel appreciated will not be reached.

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Some Submissives are into both degrading and praise, which is totally alright. The thing is: You need to talk with your Sub beforehand about her boundaries and what exactly she wants to hear and what not. Are there words that trigger bad feelings in your Sub? Are there things that do the opposite?

To use praise and degradation in one sentence, combine a praise with an „insult“. For excample it could be: „You‘re my pretty slut.“ or „Your cunt is already molded into the shape of my strap, and you look so perfect- fucked out like this, baby.“

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

Less Talk | Part III

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: mild angst, Hangman being a dick aka Hangman being himself, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, drinking

Part I | Part II | Masterlist

You’re watching Jake so grimly that he almost wants to give you a hug. But, the next moment, you let out a heated sigh and shake your head irritably. “God, Jake, nothing happened,” you say, as if he’s the one who’s shown up at your doorstep unannounced in the dead of night.

He gives you a stony look that, unfortunately, you don’t see because you’re no longer watching him, so his efforts go completely unnoticed. “If nothing happened, then why are you here? Past midnight. Crying.” To his chagrin, the tone of his voice is far too vexed to emulate the indifferent attitude he means to preserve.

You lick your lips and sniffle. “We had a fight,” you say.

Jake stares at you impatiently, waiting for you to look back up. When you don’t, he says, “You fight with everybody.”

This makes you look. He’s dreadfully satisfied with peeving you – the only satisfaction you’ll likely ever give him. “It was a big one, obviously.”

Jake studies the expression on your face, trying to gauge whether or not you’re hiding something. “Where is he?” he asks, feeling like he needs to punch something. And soon.

You take a long time to respond – so long that Jake almost poses the question for a second time. “I don’t know,” you finally say.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?”

You shrug, your lips beginning to tremble anew. “He just left.”

What Jake experiences at the sight of the fresh tears filling your eyes is abhorrent. The simultaneous desire to alleviate your pain and beat the living shit out of Mustang offsets his entire world in a way that puts your well-being at the top of his priority list. Hell, he doesn’t even have a priority list. You are it. And with this absurd notion weighing on the ever-growing vortex of his newly discovered emotions, he resolves to tell you just what he thinks of your idiotic boyfriend. “Well, he’s obviously a moron,” he says curtly.

You glance up at him again, less angry than before. “He’s a lot like you in that respect,” you say with a hint of a smile.

Jake scoffs and, before he can stop himself, says, “I would never walk out on you.”

You stare at him for a moment before lowering your gaze awkwardly.

Jake cringes, realizing that he could have said just about anything else and it would have been better. Moreover, in his attempt to rectify the situation, he blurts out this obnoxious tidbit: “You’d never let me hear the end of it.”

You roll your eyes but then you bite into your bottom lip and your eyebrows lift inward. You glance up at him woefully and say, “I’m not that bad, am I?”

Jake watches you carefully, wondering why you’d care what he might have to say on the matter. He tries to determine what his response might be before deciding if he’s going to be honest. On the one hand, you are that bad. On the other, when it comes to you, bad takes on an entirely different connotation. “You could be worse,” he responds vaguely.

You stare at him miserably. “You can’t stand me,” you remind him.

Jake nearly laughs; that’s how absurd he finds your statement. “Well, that’s more or less mutual, is it not?”

You nod slowly.

“In any case, it’s hardly relevant since I’m not your boyfriend.”

“But what does that say about me?” you ask. “I piss off everyone around me. You said it yourself, I just can’t shut up.”

“Why should you?” he says, his anger flaring despite his every effort to control it. His response seems to catch you off-guard because you blink up at him sharply. “I just mean, who cares if you piss someone off? That’s not a you problem,” he reasons, although he’s painfully aware of just how much he’s contradicting his every complaint where you’ve been concerned.

“Well, it’s kind of my problem if my boyfriend hates me,” you say, your mouth finally relaxing into the beginnings of a smile.

Jake cocks his head to the side and purses his lips. “I don’t know,” he says. “Sounds like you just need a new boyfriend.”

You scoff and turn away. The moment your back is to him, Jake shuts his eyes and passes a hand over his face with a silent sigh. He watches you travel the length of his living room and unplug a fan that isn’t turned on. “You shouldn’t keep your electric appliances plugged in when they aren’t in use,” you mutter absently. “You’re wasting energy.”

Jake rolls his eyes despite the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How much energy does a table fan waste when it isn’t even on?”

You shrug, glancing over your shoulder. “How many electrical devices do you currently have plugged in that aren’t ‘even on’?” you ask, using air quotes to emphasize the final two words. “It adds up, thereby increasing your carbon footprint. Imagine everybody lived as carelessly as you do?”

Jake grins broadly. “The horror.”

You nod without the tiniest bit of amusement. “My thoughts exactly.”

Jake watches you resignedly, not at all surprised that you’ve found yet another reason to reproach him. “Are you hungry?” he asks.

You eye him suspiciously, as if you don’t quite trust that he won’t poison your food.

“We’ve got some leftovers,” he says, nodding toward the kitchen through the corridor. “Have you eaten?” You consider his offer at length as though he’s proposed a shotgun wedding rather than a pot roast. “Come on,” he says, waving you over as he makes his way into the hallway. “I can’t wait to hear what you have to say about my cooking.”

…

“This is surprisingly good,” you comment as Jake pours you a glass of wine.

Jake chuckles. “That might be the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You lick your lips and smile up at him as he takes a seat across from you at the table, popping the cap off a beer. “Your turn,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows.

Jake sneers and then guzzles half his bottle in one gulp. He sets the beer down to find you watching him expectantly.

“You can’t think of anything?” you ask incredulously.

Jake runs a hand across his chin, watching your smile widen at the thought of him having nothing decent to say about you. Ironically, he can’t think of a single thing that isn’t nice, which is truly agitating him. He racks his brain trying to come up with at least one negative quality because something about you drives him absolutely crazy.

You sigh, returning your attention to your plate. “It’s fine, Seresin,” you say. “Don’t think so hard, I know you aren’t accustomed to it.”

“That,” Jake says, leaning into the table as he points a finger in your direction. “That sharp sense of humor.”

You raise your eyebrows with a laugh. “Oh, you think I’m joking?” You tilt your head sympathetically, but your smile remains.

Jake meets your gaze with an affectionate smirk, silently listing off every other ‘nice’ thing about you, including, but not limited to, the sound of your laughter. He swallows uncomfortably when you don’t look away, unsettled by the unrest in the pit of his stomach that churns every time your eyes meet. He tries to regulate his breathing before it becomes apparent that you’re actively rattling him.

The creak of the front door interrupts the obscenely prolonged period of mutual eye fucking contact. You glance toward the corridor while Jake disconcertedly rubs his eyes.

“Y/N?” Bradley says, walking into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh.” You sigh, setting down your fork and reverting to your previously dejected state.

“Don’t tell me you guys had another fight,” Bradley says jadedly. He glances over at Jake with a grave expression which Jake means to completely ignore.

“He stormed out,” you say, sighing into your half-eaten plate. “I think I really ticked him off this time.”

Jake gives Bradley an unimpressed look when the latter starts thrusting his head around to indicate that Jake should add something to the conversation. Jake takes another gulp of his beer.

“He shouldn’t be taking off,” Bradley says when Jake remains silent. “I don’t care how angry he is.” He looks to Jake for approval.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Why are we still talking about this dumbass?”

Bradley eyes him pointedly. “Didn’t realize you’ve already discussed him,” he says, glancing between you and Jake.

You pick your fork back up and start stabbing at the meat on your plate.

“How was the rest of your evening, Rooster?” Jake asks, avoiding looking directly at him.

“Pretty good,” Bradley responds, and Jake can hear the glee in his tone without even seeing his ridiculous grin. “Yours?”

Jake aims a disdainful scowl in his direction. “Bradshaw,” he says. “You look tired.”

Bradley holds back a laugh and then turns to you. “Y/N, do you want to talk?”

You look up at your best friend with a weary smile. Your gaze slips to briefly glance at Jake before you shake your head at Bradley. “I think I’m good. Thanks.”

Bradley gives you a hug and heads for the stairs, pausing momentarily to throw Jake a final, cautionary look before heading to bed.

“I should go,” you say once Bradley leaves.

“You sure?” Jake asks. “You haven’t criticized my dishwashing skills yet. I bet I use too much water.”

You give him an amused look as you rise from your chair. “Recognizing the problem is the first step.”

He recognizes the problem alright; it’s standing right before him. “What’s the next step?”

“Well,” you say musingly. “In this case, I would say action.”

Jake nods, getting out of his seat. “I could use some of that, for sure.”

Your gaze lingers on him as you let out a soft laugh. You’re an entire table length away and yet he can feel the force of your presence as though you were pressed up against him.

“You could stick around,” he offers casually. “We could watch a movie or something.”

You continue studying him brazenly. “I’d probably ruin it for you.”

He laughs. “We could watch something I already don’t like.”

You smile back at him. “Haven’t you done that enough for one evening?”

Jake doesn’t altogether know how to respond without making it painfully obvious just how much he doesn’t not like you. “Yeah,” he says finally. “So, what’s another couple of hours?”

You’re watching him thoughtfully which makes him almost hopeful that you might agree to stay, but then you respond with, “Maybe another time.”

He nods, keeping his eyes trained on yours. “Another time,” he agrees. But as you head for the door, he decides to try another tactic. “Should you be driving after having that wine?” he asks.

You give him a flat look. “I had half a glass. If that.”

Jake shrugs slightly. “It was a big glass.”

You roll your eyes. “It’ll be fine, Seresin.” You reach for the doorknob.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if, for once, he came home, and you weren’t there?” he asks.

You look at him sharply. “He won’t be home for hours.”

Jake gestures at the open living room. “We have several fine couches. Take your pick.”

You sigh, evaluating his pitch. “No,” you say finally. “He’s already so mad at me. If I stay here, that’ll be the end of our relationship.”

This outcome sounds just dandy to Jake, but he can see the worry in your expression, so he pulls on the door and holds it open for you, following you out onto the porch to walk you to your car.

“Drive carefully,” he says once you’re seated, leaning down to peer into the car as you buckle your seatbelt.

You nod. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Thanks for the company,” he responds.

You chuckle. “Yeah, about that… sorry I imposed on your evening.”

“Yeah,” Jake agrees with a smirk. “That was kind of rude of you.” When you laugh, he adds. “No, but really, I don’t mind. Come over anytime.”

You gasp at him to simulate shock. “And subject you to my numerous opinions?”

Jake’s grin widens. “I’m getting used to tuning you out.”

“So, what exactly is it that you gain out of my company?” you ask with raised eyebrows as you start your engine.

Jake raps on the hood of your car a couple of times before responding. “I just don’t want to deprive you of my company.”

You snort. “That would be a tragedy.”

Jake lets himself admire your laugh for several seconds before straightening his back. “Have a good night, Y/N,” he says, and then he shuts your door.

You pull out of the driveway and stop your car on the side of the road. Jake watches curiously as you step out of the car. He approaches you slowly, his eyes drifting up and down your figure involuntarily. He blinks to reorient himself, exhaling sharply as he comes to stand before you. He slips his hands into his pockets to avoid the temptation of using them to pin you to your car and then running them along the curves of your body. You’re looking up at him with a sheepish expression, completely unaware of the turmoil he’s up against in this very moment. “What’s up?” he says sternly; employing exaggerated masculinity to help assuage his crippling desire to kiss you.

Instead of responding, however, you stretch up onto your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. In his shock, it takes a second for Jake to loosen his rigid stance; to remember that his hands are still safely tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He draws them out slowly, holding them cautiously on either side of your body, wondering just how catastrophic it would be if he were to reciprocate the hug. “You really helped me tonight,” you say softly, your breath warming the crook of his neck.

He lets out a weak chuckle that dies the second it leaves his lips because, at that moment, you press your cheek into his shoulder. His hands close gingerly around you. He’s barely holding on, but you feel just right in his embrace. Like the dip in your waist belongs between the palms of his hands. “Glad to be of service,” he mutters, his voice a little rough as he attempts to process this turn of events.

You detach yourself from his grasp and give him a friendly smile. So friendly, it nearly kills him. “Maybe I can return the favor someday,” you say.

Jake stares at you, trying to come up with at least one favor you could do for him that isn’t sexual in nature and drawing a complete blank. “Maybe,” he says uneasily.

“Anyway,” you say. “Sleep well.”

You flash him one last smile before climbing back into your car while Jake takes several steps back, wondering how the fuck he’s going to sleep at all after having experienced that.

Read Part 4

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[nestagetbehindme]

My Contribution to Elucien Week 2024

Elucien’s First Time🥵🦊🌸☀️

Summary: Throughout their journey in the Day Court, Lucien and Elain have had their fair share of angst and emotional buildup. All of their turmoil paved the way to this moment right now between them. At the pinnacle of their tension, the dams finally break, walls tumble down, and a passionate kiss seals the deal

Warnings (also tags): nfsw, first time, fingering, good ole missionary, glowing Lucien, neediness, making out

. . .

There was a beat of silence. Almost as if the world was at the edge of its seat, awaiting the fate of the two mates. Then, time shifted as Lucien surged forward and captured Elain in a desperate kiss.

Elain did not hold back a single ounce of her desire as she slid her fingers into his hair and met his own long awaited passion with hers. His lips were soft and warm as his tongue gently swept in, a cautious question. Gods, she wanted him so bad. She wanted to feel him. His skin, his muscles, his magic, his hair– she wanted him, no, she needed him too much.

Their tongues began tangling as their fervors collided. His scent of smoked-cinnamon and amber awakened her immortal soul. She felt like she was alive, truly alive, and near out of her wits with desire.

Suddenly, he broke their kiss for a moment, to which Elain quite irritably held onto him.

There was no way in hell he was going anywhere.

She didn’t really recognize the possessiveness of the thought as her hands dug into the shoulders of his white fabricated tunic. His lips hovered above hers, and both of their wild gazes locked. His metal eye whirred as he studied Elain.

“Can I touch you, Elain?” His voice was gentle, yet she didn’t miss the slight growl in it. It seemed like he was holding himself back. Like the magic of the bond was overwhelming him, but he was still trying to maintain some semblance of control.

“Yes, anything,” she panted as she brushed their lips together for more “Please, touch me, Lucien–”

She was abruptly cut off as he again crushed their lips together, a tangle of teeth and tongues, and slid his hands from her intricately styled hair to her back. Then lower. She gasped as his hands began feeling and kneading her rear.

Lucien again broke the kiss to gauge her reaction and then backed away raising his hands up in surrender.

“I will stop. I need to stop– I want you, I need you too much.” He was panting as he backed away, his hair now mussed because of Elain’s deft yet sneaky pale fingers. “I–.”

“It’s fine– it’s fine. I’m fine. I need you Lucien, please do not stop,” Elain pleaded with unsteady breaths. Lucien just shook his head, the fire in the hearth casting a warm glow on his hair.

“We go slow then. I don’t want to do something either of us will regret. I refuse to have this moment between us sullied by my own untamed thoughts.”

Elain only nodded, closing the distance between them.

“You tell me what you want,” he continued, “where to touch you, where to kiss you, I want this to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” Elain cooed as she again ran her fingers through his hair. He didn’t yield a step this time. “I want and need you too.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Again, his question charged the already electrified air around them.

She gestured to her face, her body, her rear–

“Everywhere,” she clicked her tongue.

Lucien only huffed a laugh as Elain smiled without restraint. A beam of pure unadulterated joy. The bond between them glowed like a blinding thread of gold, stretching out to the other's chest.

“I love you,” they both said in unison. Then, their lips finally met in a softer motion. This time their kiss was different. Although the desire to shred one another’s clothes remained, there was a sweeter more passionate feeling about this embrace. Lucien’s hands began moving back to her rear, feeling her and every inch of her upper body.

Elain moaned in his mouth at the feeling which seemed to encourage Lucien even more. A growl slipped from him as he began to feel his way back up to her dress. He looked into her beautiful brown eyes, wide as saucers as she faced him. The silver lining within them shined with her own declaration of love. He began tugging on the gown’s laces, but he did not undo them with one simple move.

Again his eyes searched hers for permission. A gentlemale through and through. She only nodded before she reached her arms out to grab the shoulders of his thinly draped tunic.

His fingers made quick work with the laces of her dress, and in one swift movement, the garment fell to the floor in a pool of white silk. She still had a thin gold underdress beneath the white one, but her bare shoulders were now displayed.

She began pushing the shoulders of his tunic down to reveal the rest of his chest and his muscled arms. He was beautiful. Every inch of him. The fire casted a warm glow upon all of his brown skin– it almost looked as if he was glowing.

She immediately reached for the cuffs of gold around his wrist as he kindly pulled the thin straps of her underdress from her shoulders. She smiled at him as she removed each cuff of metal, to which he returned her own smile with his as he slid the straps of the dress down her arms. Finally, the underdress was a pool of gold on the floor, and there were no barriers between them. No more dresses, no more leathers, no more tunics, and no more gloves.

Elain shifted on her feet a tad as she stood under Lucien’s ravenous yet cherishing gaze. Even though the fire was warming the room, she felt the coolness of the air against her bare skin.

Finally, they reached for each other again. His hands dug into her brown curls, knocking some of the combs of pearls and gold to the floors. She laughed against his mouth as the jewelry hit the floor, and slowly he backed them onto the large bed of ivory silks, covers, and blankets.

Lucien’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he laid down on the sheets. Elain crawled on top of him, and hovered over his beautifully naked form as he settled himself beneath her. A memory flashed and retreated in her mind of when they had been in this exact position in that lovely prairie of green grass and flowers. So far away from this moment now. Then, she had been such a wretch, wishing the wonderful male beneath her to disappear from her life entirely. To know that now she loved him more than anything, more than life itself–

She crushed their lips together again, and Lucien groaned. She liked that sound, she liked every little growl, groan, and moan she could get from him. His fingers explored her skin, stroking and kneading at her curves and muscle.

She pulled away from him just as he playfully nipped at her lower lip. Both of their mouths were slightly swollen and pink. But neither cared, nothing mattered in this moment except them. The bond again glowed brightly with that declaration.

“I want you to be on top of me when you...you know,” She nosed at his jaw, placing a soft kiss there. Lucien chuckled as he propped a knee up. Then, in one swift motion, he flipped them. Elain now looked up at him, feeling his weight braced above her.

This was...everything. This wasn’t her first time lying with a male of course, but everything with Lucien felt different. She felt like everytime she was with him, she was experiencing something new– even though she had already done it.

Perhaps it was her being fae, her magic, the court...or maybe it was just him. Yet, none of those ‘first’ felt as significant as this moment now. This moment in which their souls would be tied forever. She would never leave him, and he would never forsake her. Perhaps that fact scared her before, but now...no fear remained to cloud the bright glow in her chest.

Her eyes began burning, just as he lowered himself to her. He positioned himself at her entrance, and with one swift motion he would be inside her. But he was waiting. Waiting for what?

She inched closer to him, slightly feeling the length of his cock against her core. Her whole body awakened at the contact as the bond sang a loud symphony between their souls.

“Elain, we need to slow down,” Lucien’s voice was now erotically soft and she felt her core throb with need. He was here. Right here. She didn’t want to go slow. She wanted him inside her. She wanted them to be joined together forever. No more pain, no more loneliness, no more walls between them.

“We are going slow.” She grabbed for his waist, his skin warm against her fingers. His tenderness was too much. Grayson hadn’t been like that when he had taken her maidenhead. She had just lied there while nodding and wincing through everything he did. Grayson wasn’t anything like Lucien. And yet somehow he had meant everything to her human heart.

And now she was immortal, or close to it, and she couldn’t even remember why she had fallen for him. Her past and him all seemed so far away. And she didn’t want it back honestly. Not anymore.

“You aren’t ready.” He lowered his mouth to her neck, peppering kisses and nibbling slightly. “Can I feel you?”

Elain’s brows scrunched as she tried to figure out what he meant. She had already said yes to him touching—

“Oh.” Oh. He meant to touch her center. She blushed, and buried her nose in his shoulder. Thinking she could hide her embarrassment and lack of experience there.

“Oh as in...,”

“Oh as in yes,” she laughed against his skin. He returned her amusement with a gentle smile, probably just to assuage her embarrassment. Then he took his fingers and began tracing a line down her collar, her stomach, lower—.

She didn’t feel him get any lower as he began pressing his lips in the same spots he traced his fingers with.

Then, she felt a brush against her core. A soft whimper left her lips. He pressed a kiss to the center of chest, between her breasts. Then, he began peppering kisses to each one. Whatever she was feeling was beyond comprehension, and expanded further into disconnect as his finger slid through her folds.

She was already slick, so his fingers glided through her. As he started circling that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, her gasps turned into moans. He looked up from his view of her chest and watched her face contort with pleasure. His eyes looked ravenous as he watched her face. Like he wanted to imprint the image in his mind permanently.

Again he circled those bundle of nerves and sucked at her breast, and Elain felt her back slightly arch off the bed. The feeling of his mouth on her chest was enough to make her core clamp down. She wanted him inside her, or his fingers at least.

He seemed to read her desperation because he circled those nerves just once more before taking his fingers and—

“Can I feel inside of you?”

So many questions and not enough movement. God she loved him. She loved him so much.

“Yes! Oh my gods Lucien, just don’t stop,” she didn’t even recognize her own voice. The raw and sex-addled tone of it combined with her desperation to keep his mouth and fingers on her.

“Alright, my lady. Needy aren’t we?”

She couldn’t even fathom how he could call her a lady right now in this moment, but she definitely couldn’t fathom anything anymore when he gently eased his finger inside her.

The feeling itself wasn’t pleasurable, but when he curled it slightly, some specific spot in her core was applied with just the right pressure and she started seeing stars.

She didn’t climax, she didn’t think. Not as she started to feel him pumping his, now two, fingers in and out of her. Then, another finger began massaging the nerves at her center. The sensations collided to strike her with an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

She covered her mouth, biting her hand to keep from moaning louder than previously, and tilted her head back into the soft ivory pillows. She felt like she was melting on a bed of clouds. She felt utterly ruined and near out of control as Lucien thoroughly wrung her pleasure out from her in steady rhythms.

Suddenly, she felt a build in her lower abdomen. Anticipation tingled her spine, as her muffled moans and gasps started to get more desperate, yet sporadic. She felt like she was getting pushed to the edge of a cliff, awaiting a fall that would send her out of her own body.

Lucien didn’t slow for any second. He kept massaging and pumping, while also murmuring words of praise to his mate. Mate. She was his mate. She was his and he was hers. Nothing would change that or come between them ever again.

“Let go, Elain,” he cooed gently, “you look so beautiful like this, just let go. Don’t hold back anymore.”

His words knocked her from her ledge, and she felt her vision white. She couldn’t help but cry out as she came on his fingers. He slowed down with each of her pants, allowing her aftershock to run through the rest of her body.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thighs before bracing himself back above her. She looked utterly beautiful like this. Naked beneath him, panting for breath as she tried to find some level of comprehension, and her hair fanned out beneath her in a long golden-brown cape. He couldn’t help but savor this moment. Drink in every inch of skin, every heave from her chest, and every pleading look she gave him.

“Do you still want more?” His breath was a needed warmth against her skin. And, somehow the after effect of her climax seemed to disappear entirely with his question. A newfound energy now buzzed through her as she nodded.

A muscle in his jaw flickered as he said, “Well you’re probably more than ready now.”

They both chuckled as he returned to his original position when they had first laid upon the bed: his cock lined at her entrance, and her finger tips digging into the skin of his sculpted shoulders.

He didn’t take his eyes from hers as he slowly hooked one hand behind her knee and rode it up. She felt more open like this. Like he could just sink into her with one motion if he tried.

“Keep your legs like this. It will feel better, I promise.”

His cock now brushed against her entrance, and she grinded her hips to feel at least some sort of friction. They both groaned at the feeling.

Then, he brushed his lips against hers before capturing them in a passionate kiss. She opened for him, letting his tongue sweep in and taste and tease.

Simultaneously, she felt a slight nudge against her entrance. A fleeting push, then it was gone. Again that nudge against her entrance, and she felt the shape of the tip inside of her. But then it was gone.

“Faster. Please, faster,” she whined against Lucien’s lips.

This time she felt him push in, not fully, but with more of a gentle force than before. Her entire body locked as he pushed in again, this time hitting that same pressure point in her core that made her see stars. She moaned and kissed him again, encouraging him to keep going. Go faster and harder and just completely ruin her–

He kept pushing in and pulling out, forcing her to feel every change in his movement. Forcing her to feel every moment of their joining. No more pain.

He pushed in again, not fully seated inside her, but close to it. She could feel the brush of his balls against her center which meant one more little thrust, and he would be all the way in. No more loneliness.

Then with much anticipation he thrust all the way in. Her core clamped down around all of him at once, causing him to moan softly— such a beautiful sound. No more walls between them.

This was heavenly and everything at the same time. She would never get enough of it, of him. She needed everything he had to offer, and she would give him everything that she could in return. Lucien, her mate.

Again they lost themselves in the kisses and touching, but as Lucien slid all the way out to then gently push back in, Elain cried out. Her whimpers and moans encouraged him to move in a steady rhythm in and out. He would thrust and push and massage himself in all of the right places inside her that she couldn’t help but hold onto him for dear life.

She couldn’t remember her name or anything else for that matter besides him. His name, his eyes, his scent—

She didn’t even recognize the building pressure in her stomach until it reached its peak, and she was at that cliff again. This time, she was begging for the fall. Begging for them to go together.

“I want you to go with me. I want us to go together,” she gasped. Lucien nodded before kissing her brow.

“I love you, Lucien.”

He grunted which ended in a whimper as her core clamped down around him again. He was close, she could feel it. They both were at the knife’s edge of their pleasure. One more thrust and they would both be gone, lost to their uncontrollable desire for one another.

Suddenly a glow began to seep from Lucien’s skin. At first, Elain thought it was just his beauty and her exertion— she was starting to see her mate glow. But then as he thrust home, hitting that spot in her core that made her hips buck, she realized he was actually illuminating.

She climaxed hard enough to feel like her body had left this world. Right then, Lucien cried out as his release finally hit him hard. He crumpled over her, bracing himself up to keep from crushing her. However, Elain pulled him close, mindlessly stroking at his glowing skin even though her chest racked for breaths.

They didn’t know for how long they laid like that. Mindlessly caressing the other, panting for breaths, and trying to piece their minds back together.

Finally, he took a long breath before easing himself out of her. As she whined a bit at the loss of fullness, a warm trail of his seed leaked from her core and onto the soft skin of her inner thigh. He collapsed into the assortment of silk pillows next to her, causing both of them to bounce slightly.

In unison they both huffed a fatigued laugh.

“How do you feel?” He asked, voice raw and still recovering from the whole ordeal.

“I feel...” she turned to her glowing mate, who seemed to not realize for whatever reason that he was glowing practically golden right next to her. It must be his Day Court magic. “I feel wonderful.”

They both smiled, and he seemed to glow even brighter at that. Her eyes squinted a bit to adjust to the brightness of the light.

“You’re glowing, Lucien. Literally.”

Lucien’s brows lifted slightly before raising a hand to his face. He only studied the light for an instant, the way his whole skin illuminated like a lantern, then he turned back to his mate with an unrestrained smile.

“What?” Elain chuckled quite coyly. Lucien only shrugged as he reached over to brush a lock of hair away from her face.

“I’m happy.”

And the awe in which he spoke it and the way his eyes roamed over her body while his hand traced gentle chaste circles on her skin was enough to make Elain believe he hadn’t felt so in a long long time. She wanted to cry, cheer, and laugh for both of them. Everything they had endured had led them to each other and this moment. Her mate. His mate.

This time she leaned in to kiss him again— so much kissing between them. However, this one held gratitude and compassion all at once. And when Elain lost her breath and needed to break apart for just a moment, just to catch her breath, Lucien leaned back in to peck at her lips.

Finally, they both laid there synchronizing their breathing while mindlessly touching each other again. His magic hadn’t relented a bit. His heartbeat still ached with mirth and glee, so he just simply shined brighter than any star.

Like the sun scared away the dark, Lucien forced away the fears, doubts, and hardships from the past. They were both here, entangled with one another, with the mating bond glowing like a forge of gold between them. For if that was the truth of their circumstance, then nothing else mattered.

. . .

Now I’m gonna go hide in a corner🫣

[sxfterhearts]

Hi! I have a request for theo if you feel inspired by it:)

Something angsty (but soft) with "Sorry I'm late.", where he's late for a date, or promised to be at reader's home sooner, something like that, and reader is already frustrated, feeling like his last priority. When he's not busy with p1h things he wants to have a time for himself...

Anyway, that's what I thought for the prompt, but if you have any other ideas I'd love to read anything <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol ! theo x non-idol ! reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: mild angst, soft ending

♡ word count: 912 words

♡ author's note: thank you for requesting lovely anon <3 you sparked my creativity and reminded me just how much i love (and miss) writing! this was a great little fic for me to ease back into it. life has been super duper hectic lately, so apologies this comes so late. i hope you enjoy :)

//

The seasons were reluctantly transitioning from autumn to winter. It was a warm autumn day, warmer than you initially expected, with heat radiating off the sidewalks and brick walls. Ginko trees lined the streets, a flurry of vibrant yellows dancing and waving as cars drove by.

The dessert shop you had saved on Google Maps for months came into sight as you rounded the corner of the main road. It specialised in bingsu, a traditional Korean milk-based shaved ice dessert, commonly topped with sweet red beans and condensed milk. 

You took in your surroundings as you approached the shop. Everywhere around you, you saw couples walking hand in hand, groups of friends laughing together, and people taking photos of each other with the autumn foliage, basking in the remnants of sunshine.

All of a sudden, you felt a pang of loneliness in your chest.

At the same time, your phone screen lit up with a notification.

[5:45pm] theo <3: hey y/n, practice is running over

[5:46pm] theo <3: i’m sorry… i’ll make it up to you, i promise

You sighed. Your heart dropped to the soles of your feet. In a way, you knew this was coming. Amidst all the comeback preparations and promotions, Theo barely had time to himself, let alone to spend time with you. You understood this well. You knew what you were signing up for and you were well aware of the demanding nature and huge time commitments of his career. Lately, though, the tardiness and cancellations were becoming a little too frequent. 

He stood you up last weekend. Okay, maybe you were being a bit dramatic – the two of you were meant to go for a picnic by the Han River. Instead, he texted you 10 minutes before the meeting time to say that his hair appointment was taking longer than expected, leaving you amongst the sea of couples cuddling on the grass – all alone.

And here you were again, alone once more. Casting a wistful glance at the fairy lights and welcoming exterior of the shop, you silently bid it goodbye as you turned around and made your way back home.

//

With heavy footsteps, you finally dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. 

Absent-mindedly, you fished inside your handbag for your keys. Why was it always so hard to find them?

Your searching was interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat.

“Sorry I’m late… Again.”

“Theo?” You looked up from your bag and sure enough, there he was, crouching outside your apartment door. He was still wearing his sweat-soaked clothes from dance practice, cheeks red from exertion. 

At the call of his name, he stood up. “I brought cake?” Theo said gently, trying to gauge your emotions and reactions to him standing you up, yet again. Cake – your guilty pleasure; a peace offering. “It’s dark chocolate with strawberries, the one from your favourite cake shop.”

You couldn’t help it, your ears perked up and your eyes lit up at the familiar pink cake box. The corners of your lips raised into an involuntary smile. “Is this bribery?” You teased lightly.

“It’s an apology, Y/N. I’m sorry, really.” He replied, voice laced thick with sincerity. 

At that, the sadness covering your icy heart melted away. “Come on,” You grabbed his free hand, dragging him into the apartment with you.

As you sat on the floor, devouring your cake in silent contentment, Theo reached across the coffee table for your hand.

“Listen, Y/N…”

“Hmm?”

“The past few months have been really busy.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“Our schedules… It’s so hard to predict, and things can change at the last minute.”

You hummed, mouth full of cake.

“I get it if you’re frustrated or angry, I would be too. But this is only the beginning. Once promotions start I will barely have any time to do anything, including sleep, which means I won’t have much time to spend with you. You know that right?”

“Yeah.” You agreed reluctantly. “I know, you told me at the start. It’s just…” You sighed. “Yeah, sometimes it gets lonely without you. But I don’t blame you or anything. It’s not your fault, so I get it.”

Theo’s heart ached a little at your honest confession. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” You waved away his apology. “Like I said, not your fault.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel lonely.” He clarified.

You stared into his eyes, taking in the intensity of his sorrowful gaze. “I accept your apology.” You squeezed his hand tightly. “Besides, maybe I should pour some time and energy into other things, like seeing my friends more or picking up a new hobby.”

Theo nodded. “That’s a great idea!” He encouraged, heart-shaped lips turning into an excited smile. “What happened to that knitting club? Did you end up joining with your friend?”

You pouted. “No, the club meetings are too early for her, she gets off work late. Maybe I’ll look for another one, she mentioned pottery when we caught up for coffee last week…”

Theo breathed an internal sigh of relief. It was reassuring to know that you were trying to keep yourself busy with your own life outside of the relationship you two shared and cherished. This was important in every relationship, of course, but particularly for yours, due to his line of work. He felt a surge of admiration and adoration for you as he reflected on how well you handled the situation despite the uncertainty and disappointment. “I love you.”

You looked up from your phone and paused mid-message to your friend. You gave him a toothy grin, dark chocolate staining the corners of your mouth. Theo thought you looked adorable. “I love you too.”

[erodasfishtacos]

As It Was (You Know It’s Not The Same)

prompt: part II of the pornstar!au; what happens after the shoot

warnings: angst,smut, minors dni

If you would like to get two week early release, exclusive content/tropes, among other benefits - consider signing up for my Patreon for $3 a month :)

part one

-

YN is staring blankly into her bowl of chicken alfredo that Niall was kind enough to make after they got home from the shoot.

She had so many different emotions coursing through her that it felt like overload and it was making her numb as not one single thought could be construed properly in her head.

Niall let her process for a while as he chowed down on his own meal, eyeing his best friend regularly to try to get a gauge on her mental status.

It jars them both when Niall’s phone begins to ring, the obnoxious default music echoing through the apartment and interrupting the silence.

His phone was face down, in typical Niall fashion, he flips it quickly and answers, barely glancing at the unknown number on the screen.

“‘Ello?” He states through a mouthful, ever the gentleman, and as soon as the caller begins to talk, Niall’s eyebrows pinch downward and he drops his fork as he listens.

“She doesn’t owe you shit, mate,” Niall responds loudly and YN already knows who it is, knows that Harry has Niall’s number but not hers because she changed it a while back when a subscriber found it out and called incessantly.

“I’m not asking her whether she wants to talk or not. If she did, she obviously would have stuck around to do so. You don’t get to make demands when you were the one getting your dick wet elsewhere,” Niall was nearly shouting at this point where YN didn’t even need to hear Harry to know that he was keeping a deathly calm tone with a sharp edge to each word.

YN had only heard him yell once.

-

“You won’t let me explain!” Harry erupts angrily, YN had never heard him this loud ever as he stood in the entryway of their apartment, “You’re kicking me out and you won’t even fucking let me explain to you what’s been going on!”

“You had time to explain,” YN grits out, there were fat tears streaming down her cheeks and she could not catch her breath, “But when I asked you wh-what was going on you lied. You said n-nothing was sneak-sneaky.”

Harry’s eyes soften a bit as he tries to step forward with his arms outstretched, “Baby, you need to breathe. You’re going to pass out. Please, just let me help you first.”

“Don’t you dare,” YN manages to hiss between hiccups, taking a step back until she hits the wall behind her, “Don’t even think about touching me.”

Harry’s voice raises again, “You think that I would throw what we had away? For what? Sex? Are you that fuckin’ daft? When would I have time to get it anywhere when I’m trying to get with you every time I can? Our sex life is literally amazing.”

“You tell me,” She rebukes with a shake of her head, she just needs a minute to think and everything is going a mile a minute, “You tell me why.”

“You know what?” Harry scoffs with a clenched jaw, he looked more intimidating in this moment than he ever had as he spoke through his teeth, “The fact that you think I would ever cheat on you is disgusting. That you think so god damn little of me after I’ve spent the last five years proving my love and loyalty to you.”

YN’s bottom lip quivers at that, a fresh round of tears because this isn’t her fucking fault, and he is making her doubt herself right now.

“The fact that you’re willing to throw away this relationship because of something you suspect with nofucking proof. Just because of what you went through with your parents. That ready to get rid of me,” Harry’s volume lowers by the end, a watery edge of emotion to it, and YN watches him rub his eyes furiously to wash away the tears.

YN regrets what she says next because she knows they should have a conversation even if it’s not what she wants to hear.

However, she instead spits out, “Get the fuck out. I hope I never see your fucking face again. Go find the girl who was worth it and enjoy your life.”

And then she’s turning on her heel out of the room, the deafening sound of Harry slamming the front door shut as he leaves makes her ears ring and he had to have to splinter it.

YN has never collapsed to the ground before like she did right then, sliding down the wall in her kitchen and dropping her head to her knees - letting out the most earth-shattering wail as her soulmate walks out of her life.

-

“You can fuck off, mate,” Naill’s hard words interrupt her flashback as he pulls his phone away from his ear and presses the red ‘end’ button before setting his phone back down on the table, “Jesus. He wants your number.”

YN squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, shaking her head and taking in a deep inhale because it’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, she just knows that it’s not the best decision for her.

However, with the choices she made today to sleep with him, she wasn’t truly making great decisions anyways at this point.

It didn’t get him out of her system, if anything, it reminded her of how much her body craved him and how much her soul needed him - it reminded her of how broken she was without him.

“Thanks, Niall,” YN sighs as she pushes her full plate away, “I just…I just need some time to decompress. I’m probably just going to get a bath and head to bed. I’ll text you tomorrow. Thanks for everything today.”

Niall gives her a concerned look, not truly believing that she was okay enough to be alone but he nods, leaning over to kiss her forehead before telling her, “Call me if you need anything before then. Okay pet?”

YN agrees before walking him to the door, locking it behind him, and just standing there for a moment to gather herself - she hated that there were pinpricks of tears in her eyes because she missed Harry.

It didn’t help when she was undressing in her bathroom as her tub filled up, eyes tracing the bruises that Harry had left all over her skin - it was so unprofessional, actors knew that was in poor taste to leave marks.

Harry had proved once again how much he owned, controlled her body, even now with how tender the skin on her belly, hips, thighs were from his blunt teeth that nipped into her.

As she’s relaxing in the water, head resting against the basin as she watches a trashy reality television show on her phone, the dialogue pauses when there’s an incoming call on her phone from a number that wasn’t saved in her phone.

She can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the interruption as she answers with a short, “Hello?”

“Hello,” It’s a voice that sends chills down her spine, she swears her nipples tighten at the mere single word uttered through the phone.

“How did you get my number?” YN demands, her heart already beating out of her chest as she sits further up in the bathtub.

“I have my ways,” Harry responds uselessly before he’s continuing on, “You ran from me today. You broke your promise.”

“Let’s not talk about broken promises, Harry,” YN snaps automatically, defensive and on-edge instantly with the conversation.

How dare he.

Harry let’s out a low chuckle that makes YN’s skin prickle in aggravation, like he’s in on a secret joke that she’s not privy to, “I promise you that the conversation I wanted to have with you would have benefited you. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Why else would you need to call me?” YN prompts because if she’s not aggressive like this, she’s going to cry, and she hates not feeling in control of her emotions, hasn’t felt like this in so long.

“I’m checking to see if you’re okay,” Harry’s bravado had softened now, like it did when he would really baby her, “I know today wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy for me, at least.”

“You got your rocks off, how wasn’t it easy?” She replies sharply, YN knew that it wouldn’t be easy for him either but she wanted to hear it, she wanted to hear Harry say how hard it was for him - she knew that was wrong but in this moment, she didn’t care.

“YN,” He huffs in disapproval, he seems to debate his words before speaking carefully, “To have sex with you after not being able to for a year. To have sex with the woman that I thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. The only person I would have sex with for the rest of my life. It was fucking devastating.”

His voice cracks on the last sentence and he pulls away from the receiver to cough - he would always couch to hide emotion, it was a tell for him, always had been, and it makes her heart ache a bit.

“Well, you’re in the adult film industry now. I guess you gave up that idea,” YN hates how cold she sounds, her instinct is to comfort him, and assure him that she was struggling to - she couldn’t give in.

“No, not really,” Harry tells her, “Today would have been my first shot with another actor. All my other work has been solo. I haven’t slept with anyone since you. I feel like you showing up today was my sign that I don’t want to sleep with anyone else.”

YN realizes that she was digging her nails deeply into her palm, leaving marks, and she stops clenching her fist, resting it more delicately against her thigh, and she looks away from the lovebite that it lands on.

“I did two scenes,” YN mumbles under her breath, she knows she has no reason to feel guilty or bad about it, they were broken up, “One with a guy and I hated it so I did one with a girl and I didn’t like it either. I’ve been doing it solo since then.”

“I see,” Harry responds, his voice doesn’t give anything away.

“I-Does that make you mad?”” YN regrets asking instantly, she doesn’t know why she felt the need to fucking ask that - of course, she wants to know the answer but she needs a filter sometimes.

Harry pauses for a moment, thinking over his response carefully, “No. Just, it doesn’t feel good to hear, obviously, but I’m not upset with you, sweethea-.” He catches his pet name and rephrases, “Don’t act like you don’t remember what a possessive sod I was. It makes my skin crawl to imagine you with some else but it’s nothing that you did wrong.”

-

“Harry, baby,” YN giggles quietly as Harry’s mouth attacks her neck, sucking harsh bruises into the thin skin, biting at the crook of her neck as she knots her fingers into his curls to grip him, “S’okay, H.”

Harry’s hands curling into the waistband of her biker shorts, tugging them down her thighs along with her underwear, his hand finding her mound, and his fingers splitting through her plump lips to push up inside of her.

“S’mine, yeah? Tell me, pet,” Harry orders as he pulls back from her neck, only to bring their lips together as he crooks his two thick fingers forward to pet at the sponges spot inside her walls.

“Oo-oh fuck,” YN moans as softly as possible, her back hitting the stall door, and making a shuttering noise as he scissors his fingers to spread her open, thumb navigating to her clit to rub at it.

“I’m going to stop,” Harry bites out, acting like he’s about to pull out his fingers, and it makes YN let out the most spoiled whine which makes him drag his teeth against her jaw, “Tell me, whose this is? Tell me who owns this cute little cunt.”

“You, baby, you,” YN babbles quickly because she wants to come, she can feel herself dripping onto his palm, and it’s making the most filthy slick sound in the otherwise silent bathroom.

It was all because they were working out at the gym and while Harry stepped away to refill his water bottle, some guy took the opportunity to approach YN to ask if she needed help with weights, and lifting technique.

Harry did not miss the way the chiseled man’s eyes didn’t move from YN’s bum for more than a minute while she squatted and ignored his advances - acting like she couldn’t hear him through the music in her headphones.

“She’s good, mate,” Harry cuts in, his hand coming to rest possessively at the small of her back, fingers creeping towards her bum to let this guy know that he didn’t have a fucking chance, “Don’t fucking approach her again.”

Dude got the message quickly, scurrying back to a different bench press but Harry could still feel this creep’s gaze on his girl as she went about her workout and he didn’t miss the way other men at the gym stole glimpses too.

“Who am I? Say my name,” Harry goads as YN tries to clench her thighs together with her oncoming orgasm but he knees them even further apart, and with his free hand, he yanks down her sports bra until her tits spill out, ducking down to lick at the hard nubs.

“Harry, Harry,” YN chants as her thighs begin to quiver violently, her head knocking against the door as she lets her eyes close and let out a long mewl as the intense feelings rock through her.

“There’s my girl,” He hums approvingly, cheekily licking at his fingers before helping tug her leggings back up in the small gym bathroom, “All mine, yeah? Don’t I make you feel so good, yeah?”

“Always,” YN replies sweetly, leaning forward to give him an appreciative kiss and tug him into a hug which makes the tough man melt a little bit.

“Let’s get you home, shower you, and then I’ll give you a nice cuddle, hm?”

He was so fucking gone for her.

-

“I remember,” YN can’t help let the giggle spill from her lips at the memories of him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Harry pouts but lets it dissolve into a laugh as well, “Fuck, I miss that sound.”

“Harry, why did you call?” YN sighs, bringing the conversation back to the now because YN felt herself melting into him like she always did and she couldn’t let herself do that.

“Like I said, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Harry reiterates, “It was an emotional day and you bailed before I could check on you. I just wanted to make sure you were good.”

She wasn’t.

“I’m fine,” YN couldn’t even deny how much of a lie it sounded like.

“YN,” Harry grunts firmly because he knew, of course, he knew, “We need to talk. Seriously.”

And this is were YN backs out, cowardly, she doesn’t care because she can’t talk, she can’t get her heart broken again.

“I, uh,” YN sputters for a moment, wracking her brain for an excuse, “I forgot I have something in the oven. I have to go. Bye.”

With that she hangs up on him, she knows hes going to call back, and like clockwork, he does - phone lighting up again with the unsaved number, YN silences her phone and tosses it onto the plush rug - slipping back down into the tub and groaning at the shit storm she got herself into.

-

YN was a bit early, always was usually, especially to an important meeting like today.

It was with Warren at the production headquarters, all that she’s been told is that it’s good news, and that she shouldn’t worry about anything because at first she thought she might be in trouble over something.

They guide her into one of the fancy conference rooms with sleek gray colors and modern furniture - she’s dressed in a professional outfit, a tailored suit and her favorite pair of heels.

Anxiously, she plays on her phone as she waits for the others to arrive, and after a few minutes, people begin slowly pouring into the room - they come with tablets, computers, notepads that mean business.

Warren walks in like he owns the place as always, a tacky white suit on with his black hair slicked back with so much gel it looks greasy as he sits at the head of the table, “Just waiting on one more,” He announces as he fixes his gaudy gold watch on his wrist.

YN should not be shocked at this point when Harry enters the conference room last, in a tailored suit too but his button up was barely buttoned, revealing the butterfly right below his sternum and his sparrows on display.

She can tell that Harry was also not expecting her there by the surprise on his face when he scans the room and sees her sitting there, he regulates himself fast and his face goes back to emotionless as he sits down closer to Warren in the last available seat.

“Okay, now I know you two don’t know why we’ve called this meeting,” Warren begins and picks up a little remote, clicking on a projector screen as multiple graphs pop up on the wall, “But this is about the video you two made last week. It’s the most view, top rated, and most downloaded video that has ever been posted on our sight. THe demographic is evenly split between male and female viewers. The age demographic also ranging from eighteen to sixty. The advertisement revenue has brought in nearly five million dollars alone.”

If YN wasn’t working on controlling her facial expression, her eyes would have bugged out of her head at the announcement - she hadn’t been tracking how successful it had been but she did not expect that.

“Based on the majority of comments, female fans loved the intimacy and realistic interaction between you two. They reported that it reminded them of a real couple. Men commented that they enjoyed that dominance of the Harry and how responsive YN was to him.”

YN felt the heat rising to her cheeks as they discussed the topic, her eyes glued to her hands as she nervously picked at her nail beds until it hurt, she didn’t know where this conversation was going.

“We are offering both of you an opportunity,” Warren continues with excitement in his voice, “A series on the channel. The catch is that we will be asking you two to exclusively film with each other at this time. We are aiming for at least ten videos but possibly more based on the continued popularity which we do not see as being a problem.”

Oh god.

“The team has decided on a generous offer of two point five millions dollars for ten videos plus added bonuses contingent on the advertisement revenue,” Another businessman speaks up, he’s clicking around on his laptop as he talks, “Then there will be another offer if the series continues.”

Two point five million dollars.

Never.

Ever.

In YN’s wildest dreams would she think she would be offered that amount, right in front of her, let along to get to do the videos with the only person she’s every felt sexually compatible with.

She wouldn’t consider herself greedy but that amount of money would really really push her life in the right direction, she could find a better apartment in the city, she could do so much.

YN was willing to put up with the emotional sacrifice, fuck, she’d hire a therapist with that money if she had to but she couldn’t imagine turning that down all because it’s will Harry - she’d had sex with him for free anyways.

It’s a no brainer.

So it’s an absolute shock when YN gazes up at Harry, who’s sat back in his seat with his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed.

Her heart drops into her stomach when he makes direct eye contact with her and tells the room, “Absolutely not. I decline the offer. I have no desire to participate in this.”

[csuitebitches]

I apologize for the long ask and if this question is a bit juvenile but objectively, how can one “gain” pretty privilege/gauge how they are viewed? I’ve done well in career pursuits for how early on I am ( I graduated in 2020) but started noticing that the invites to events/opportunities where one can really establish themselves not only professionally but socially, I was getting passed over by some higher up colleagues. In speaking to a female mentor who is related to my field and the same background as me (Black), she alluded that while my race may play a small factor in it, it’s more so my appearance that may be holding me back as the personality and poise is there. Some coworkers of mine who are brilliant and POC have similar credentials and positions as I and while we are all wonderful and hard working, they (who I feel are more beautiful and put together looks-wise) have discussed privately to me they have noticed a difference in treatment between us. While it’s not right, I am adult enough to know not to let things that can be fixed hinder the life I want. Your page is a wealth of information and I appreciate how encouraging you are!!

well. I’m going to be very blunt.

it’s all fun and games to say “oh fuck the beauty standards they’re terrible and they shouldn’t exist” yes, true, unfortunately they do exist and they play a bigger role than we imagine it to be.

the first thing you have to get right is your mindset.

you need to be strong enough to admit that you need changes in X, Y, Z area but not in A, B, C area. You also need to be a little loyal towards your racial identity (for the better or worse) because that’s what is going to make you stand out.

if you have a sensitive, overly emotional mindset and you get hurt very easily / become obsessive by nature, I highly recommend you to STOP reading now.

Understand what is considered pretty in your country and area. Even in one country, beauty standards can different from the north and south. Don’t exactly try to become attractive for the opposite sex but understand what they find attractive because these guys are your primary responders to your pretty privilege. Women will be kind on the surface and so it can be difficult to get constructive criticism from them.

Understand what YOU consider pretty. Who are the women who you think are crazy beautiful? What do they look like, dress like, how’s their hair and their make up, can you replicate any of it? Rule of thumb when it comes to hair and beauty - look at influencers / celebs who are of your racial background for the best fit.

there are always a few things that are universally considered “respectfully attractive” not “you wanna fuck me attractive”- semi modesty/ modesty outfits (my father always told me that when in doubt, go for a more conservative look), hygiene, well kept hair, clean nails and toe nails, soft skin, natural make up, natural hair colour, perfume, clothes that fit, skin care, a workout routine.

pretty privilege is not just the art of looking pretty. It’s also bringing in something of value on the table. Value = money / connections / knowledge/ humour / being the fun social person / whatever value the target group considers to be the most important for you to be relevant to them. Work on your soft skills. It’s better to look half baked but have solid soft skills than to look amazing and not know how to converse.

things that one normally notices when meeting someone new:

Skin - is it clear, is the make up overdone?

hair - is it messy or does it suit your face structure?

how you smell

teeth, when you talk - and dental hygiene

shoes - are they filthy?

shirt/ top - does it fit you well (always check that the seams on your shoulder and your actual shoulder line up), the colour of your clothes

body type, posture, how you carry yourself

start with incremental changes. Make a list of things you think you could improve on (this is not a list of “ugly” things, it’s an “improvement/ potential” list). Sort them according to ease of improvement (is this going to be expensive and difficult or affordable and easy?) and time (can this be done overnight or will it take some time).

Use point 1 and 2 only as launching pads. You do not have to look like Beyoncé, you’re simply understanding what her MUA and hair stylist does for her that could work for you. After a point, you have to ensure that YOUR identify sticks out and is still there, you’re not born to imitate someone else and also, it’s very obvious when someone is trying to be someone they’re not.

again. I repeat. If you’re going to get obsessive and make yourself sick over this it’s NOT WORTH IT. If you’re not mentally capable of making these changes, do not go through it.

[ideas-live-forever]

Hi there 👋 I love your Ken imagines and have a request if you're up for it! What if the reader is sad and Ken sees them crying and he's confused because he's never seen tears before. He tries different things to cheer them up. 💗

Ken Cheering You Up After Crying

hi!! thank you so much for being my first request! your idea is so cute, this was fun to write :)

sorry if it’s a little all over the place, i got a little carried away 😭. let me know if it’s not what you wanted

Ken comes over to your house one day after you’re finished with work for your planned sleepover

You answer the door with a dampened mood, but he brushes it off as you being tired or something

He comes with you into the kitchen to help cook dinner, and notices that you aren’t as prepared as usual

You keep forgetting things, or misreading the recipe

Eventually, Ken caves into his thoughts and asks if you’re okay

To which you immediately start crying

At first he thinks you’re actively dying or something

He’s never seen tears before

Kinda freezes for a minute, just looking at you with fear and pain and love mixed around in his eyes

Stays like that until you apologize 

“I’m sorry-“ You manage to get out between sniffles. “Didn’t mean to start crying.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Ken hurries to make up for his lack of immediate confort. “I just don’t know- are you okay? I mean like, does that hurt?”

You notice him pointing at the tears on your cheeks with a curiously gentle look on his face.  It clicks on your head that he might not even have seen tears up to this point. That thought makes you smile a little.

“No, Ken,” You explain. “It’s just a thing people do when they feel strong emotions like sadness. It actually feels kind of good.”

You sniffle a little bit more and wipe your eyes. Once he knows what you mean, a wave of relief hits him. You’re not dying. Then he realizes what you said.

“Wait, you’re sad?” He asks, before noticing how obvious that was. “No, don’t answer that. How can I help you?”

You haven’t really had people ask that before, so you just kinda shrugged 

But Ken didn’t take that for an answer 

He’s immediately trying to think of ways to cheer you up 

The first thing he can think of is asking you what’s wrong

So he brings you out of the kitchen and into the living room where he sits with you on the couch

He watches intently as you talk, interjecting little comments to prove he’s listening

After you’re finished, he gives you a hug and says how proud of you he is for telling him

If you’re still crying at this point, his worry spikes a bit, but he’s determined to help

He all but carrie’s you to your room so you can lay down after a long day

Brings you a glass of water and puts on something for you to watch

Then he disappears for a suspicious amount of time, which is weird, because he’d usually jump right in to cuddle

You actually fall asleep for half an hour or so

Eventually, you hear a squeal from somewhere in your house and get up to investigate

You round the corner of your house into your kitchen where you see Ken standing with your apron on and flour dusted all over his face. He holds out a plate with a waffle on it. It’s still hot, fresh off of the iron. He looks at you with a huge grin and the proudest look on his face.

“I made you dinner.” He states importantly. 

You have to hold in a giggle at that. Not that you wouldn’t eat a waffle for dinner. The poor guy probably didn’t know how to make much else. You smile back at him. All of the effort he’s putting in to help you feel better is really working. 

“Aw, thank you,” You say, reaching for the plate. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Ken shakes his head.

“Of course I did! You were sad. And waffles make me happy, so I’m just kind of hoping you like them too?” He adds the last part with an almost shy tone, blushing a bit.

The kitchen was a huge mess because he lowkey sucks at cooking, but he cleans it as you eat so no worries

Of course you eat the waffle

And he watches you closely, trying to gauge whether or not it’s working

You’ve obviously cheered up a lot, but he refuses to rest until your mood is perfect 

As soon as you finish, he cleans up your plate and then brings you back to your room for cuddles

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, trying to make you as comfortable as possible

He whispers cute little compliments in your ear until you’re both kind of tired

“Are you still sad?” He whispers, nuzzling into your shoulder.

Ken let’s out a yawn, tired from worrying about you all evening. But i’m the moment there is nowhere he’d rather be. He kisses your shoulder lightly as he awaits a response.

“No,” You answer, a small smile playing on your lips. “Thank you so much, by the way. You don’t have to do all that every time I cry you know.”

He lets out a little hum of contemplation at that before he ultimately makes up his mind.

“I know. But a little extra work doesn’t hurt me nearly as much as you hurting does.” He murmurs sleepily, his words a little jumbled

He’s just a loving, sleepy guy

You fall asleep in a better mood then you’ve been in all week

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Consent Culture: What it is and isn’t

In some of the hypnokink discord spaces I’m in, I’ve noticed a worrying trend. People saying other folk can’t talk about a specific topic, or use certain words, etc, because they “didn’t consent to that.” It’s a weaponization of consent culture to force *purity* culture, often, and I’m really tired of seeing the culture I fought so hard to help establish be used to silence folk just trying to talk about things they enjoy!

So. Let’s all have a little chat about what consent culture is and means, what it isn’t, and what any given individual’s responsibilities are in a consent culture.

Being in a consent culture means not *doing things* to other people without their consent; touch, sharing information about them, in my community’s context hypnotizing them or using/attempting to use triggers on them… things like that. It also includes giving people space where they can feel comfortable disagreeing, saying ‘no’ to requests, and so on. Respecting other people’s boundaries, and not always demanding their time and energy. It involves making a good faith effort to respect not only the letter of the rules, but the *spirit* of the rules in a space, as well.

It is not, however, shutting down anything that causes anyone in the space discomfort. We’re all adults here, as this is a kink space. As adults, we SHOULD be able to handle a little discomfort. And if something is truly upsetting to you? You can ask something like “hey, can we change the topic,” of course, but if the others don’t want to? Or, if, say, you’re in a public play space and someone is doing a scene you don’t like? That’s when the rule of two feet comes in.

For those who are unfamiliar with the rule/law of two feet, it’s a concept taken from a meeting style called “open spaces” - and loosely what unconferences are based around.

A businessman named Harrison Owen, involved in spaces that promote this philosophy, sums it up thusly:

“Briefly stated, this law says that every individual has two feet, and must be prepared to use them. Responsibility for a successful outcome in any Open Space Event resides with exactly one person—each participant. Individuals can make a difference and must make a difference. If that is not true in a given situation, they, and they alone, must take responsibility to use their two feet, and move to a new place where they can make a difference.”

What does that mean in kink spaces? Well, it’s less about productivity/making a difference, and more about finding the right comfort level. Is a class covering topics that you don’t enjoy? Or is the demo a bit more graphic than you’d like to see? Step out (whether for a moment or the rest of the class) and get some air, going back in later if you want to see if they’ve moved to something you find more comfortable. People talking about a kink that you find squicky or that triggers negative emotions? Walk away for a bit, or stop reading the channel. On places like here, on tumblr, mute a tag/word. Let people enjoy the thing and rejoin them when the topic changes.

Because that’s your responsibility in a consent culture - advocating for your own comfort *in a way that lets people enjoy the things they enjoy.* Sometimes that means you miss out on time with people you like, yes. But it’s better than making people dislike you because you keep telling them that they can’t engage with something they enjoy!

Also? Because it bears calling out, though it’s a bit tangential here? Disgust is not and never will be a gauge of immorality or unethical behaviour. Plenty of people are disgusted by the concept of rape play - but that doesn’t mean that consenting adults engaging in rape play are acting unethically. Some things are both disgusting AND unethical, of course - actual rape, for example! - but if your main reason for saying something is immoral or unethical is “it makes me uncomfortable” or “I find it disgusting”? Probe harder and consider that your aversion may just be distaste, and it isn’t a moral judgement.

Bystander consent is a different topic for another day, mostly, but I do want to note - it tends to come into play when the Rule of 2 Feet doesn’t really work, such as in places of business where employees cannot walk away.

I also want to take a moment to discuss the distinction between consent and having boundaries.

Consent is about things being done to or by you; boundaries are about other people’s actions that are not directly involving you.

So “don’t pull my hair” is a consent line. “Don’t talk about X around me or I’ll stop interacting with you” is a boundary.

“Don’t talk about X around me” without a consequence is just a rule, and outside of power exchange dynamics where the ability to give rules is negotiated? Rules in relationships typically just breed resentment.  But also, if you disagree with a boundary someone is trying to draw for you, and you’re willing to bear the consequences? That *is not* a consent violation. That isn’t what consent is for. Having said that, a violation is a violation - whether a violation of boundaries or of consent - and either can hurt just as much as the other.

And claiming otherwise? Is weaponizing consent culture to manipulate people, whether intentionally or not. And we all need to do better than that.

[laviefantasie]

[ Red In My Ledger ]

Pairings: Iron Man! Gojo Satoru x Black Widow! Reader

Summary: You could never truly forget your past, nor the blood that tainted your skin, but maybe you could learn to live in the present and look towards the future. Maybe you could if he stayed right beside you through it all.

The Avengers Tower was eerily quiet. The usual hum of activity that filled the corridors was replaced with a heavy silence as the team assembled in the war room. The threat that had brought them here was familiar to one person in particular—you—the Black Widow. You stood by the table, arms crossed tightly over your chest, as the rest of the Avengers discussed their next move.

In front of them were the holographic schematics of a highly secured building, its underground chambers filled with secrets—secrets from the past, and some that were better left buried. The remnants of the Red Room program had resurfaced. It wasn’t just a small, isolated group—it was global, with new recruits, experiments, and far more dangerous technology than before.

But for you, it wasn’t just another mission. It was your past, your deepest fear. The Red Room was where they had turned you into a weapon, a killing machine. The place that stole not only your childhood, but your ability to ever feel truly free again. The same place that stole your humanity, and now, they were back.

Beside you, Satoru, the Jujutsu Sorcerer who was far more than just an ally, tapped his fingers against the table. The sleek, white and black armor of his modern Iron Man suit reflected the dim light from above. His usual confident, carefree demeanor was gone. In its place, a quiet intensity you rarely saw. He knew what this meant for you. They all did.

“We can’t let them continue this. We need to finish this once and for all” he stated.

You didn’t speak at first, your gaze flicking from the holographic map to the faces of the other Avengers. They were all willing to fight. But only you knew what this really meant—what it would do to you to face this, to revisit the ghosts of your past. The fear of what they might find. The fear of what you might have to relive.

“I’m in. Let’s finish it”

Your voice was steady, but the words tasted bitter, like metal on your tongue.

Hours passed as the team geared up for the mission. Satoru worked tirelessly in the lab, fine-tuning his suit’s cursed energy filters to counteract any new enhancements the Red Room had created. He occasionally shot glances in your direction, but you kept herself busy, methodically checking your gear. You were preparing yourself for the fight ahead, but you were also preparing for something far more difficult—the emotional battle you would face when they entered the Red Room’s facility.

They had learned that the Red Room had merged with some darker jujutsu practices. Their experiments were more than just genetic manipulation—they were blending curses with human enhancement, creating twisted soldiers. Satoru had encountered similar experiments in his past, but even he didn’t know what to expect from these new creations.

“You’re quiet tonight”, his voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed the concern he felt. He glanced at you over the workbench, trying to gauge your mood.

You didn’t respond immediately. You were inspecting your guns, running your fingers over the cold metal as if the sensation could ground you. The sound of your fingers tracing the edges filled the space between them.

“You know I can’t let you do this alone, right? Whatever’s inside that place, I’m with you. You’re not facing it by yourself”

Your fingers stopped, the slight clink of the gun's mechanism now louder than ever in the silence.

“I don’t need anyone to fight for me. I can handle this” your words were clipped, defensive.

But they were a lie. You didn’t need someone to fight for you—but you needed someone to understand. To see you as more than just the weapon you had been trained to be.

Satoru didn’t push you further. He understood. You had never been one to ask for help. You had learned long ago that to rely on others was dangerous. That’s what they taught you in the Red Room: trust no one, not even yourself.

Instead, Satoru walked over to you, standing just behind you. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder, a quiet gesture that was more for his reassurance than yours.

“You don’t have to say it. I already know”, his voice was warm, the softest you had heard it in a long while, “We don’t have to talk about it. But when this is over… when we’re done with all of this… I’ll be here. For whatever comes next”

You didn’t respond. You weren’t sure if you could let him in, if you were ready to show him how deeply broken you still were. How much of you was still locked inside that cold room, buried in blood and shame.

The operation was swift. They infiltrated the building, using stealth and precision. But the deeper they went into the Red Room’s facility, the more dangerous the situation became. The soldiers they encountered weren’t normal. They had been enhanced with cursed energy—monsters that fought with vicious, uncontrollable power. The deeper they went, the more the place began to feel like a labyrinth of nightmares.

“We need to get to the core of this place, quickly. The longer we stay here, the harder it’s going to be to get out” Satoru said, his voice echoing through the comms, focused as always, but his attention kept drifting back to you.

You were moving with a precision that only someone with your training could manage, but Satoru could see the cracks. Your eyes weren’t just watching the enemies—they were scanning the walls, the hallways, the shadows. They were looking for something else. Something more terrifying.

You knew this building. You knew the traps, the layouts, the hallways. They had been your prison for too long. The stench of it still clung to you, no matter how many years had passed. It made your skin crawl, made you feel like you were still the broken girl they had molded you into. A weapon. Nothing more. The mission was clear, but the emotional weight of it was unbearable.

As they reached the heart of the facility, they found themselves facing the Red Room’s last remaining operatives—monstrous soldiers enhanced with both cursed energy and the Black Widow’s own training. Your eyes narrowed. This was the final test. Not just for your body, but for your mind.

The battle erupted in a fury.

Satoru was everywhere at once, his cursed energy flowing through the air, creating barriers, manipulating space. He took down enemies with ease, but his eyes never strayed far from you. He watched every movement you made, his instincts as sharp as ever, but there was a worry in his expression that wasn’t typical for him.

You were unstoppable. You were fluid, a killing machine honed by years of torment. But even as you fought, there was something raw in you—the fear, the trauma. Every punch, every kick, was a reminder of what you had endured.

A soldier lunged at you, a blur of cursed energy and desperation, and for the briefest moment, your mind flashed back to the Red Room—the blood, the chains, the pain.

You are nothing. You are just a weapon.

But this time, when the soldier’s hand reached for your throat, you didn’t freeze. You didn’t flinch. Your body moved like instinct, fluid and unstoppable, and you broke the soldier’s neck with a swift motion.

But it was the aftermath that hit you. The weight of the body crumpling at your feet, the taste of blood in your mouth, and the sudden, overwhelming pressure in your chest.

Satoru reacted swiftly, “Hey, hey, you okay?”

His voice cut through the fog in your mind, but you couldn’t answer. You couldn’t speak. The walls of the Red Room were closing in again.

You were nothing but a weapon.

But Satoru was there, right by your side, his presence grounding you like an anchor. He knew you better than anyone, and even though you couldn’t admit it, he understood the ghosts you carried.

He caught your wrist gently, pulling you back as the battle raged around them.

“You’re not that person anymore. You’re not a weapon. I’ll never let you be that again”

His words were more than just reassurance—they were a lifeline. A promise.

And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe it.

The battle was over. The Red Room was dismantled. Or at least the majority of it, after all they were a pest ever growing in the shadows. But for now it was over.

For you, though, the real fight had just begun. As the Avengers cleaned up, dismantling the remains of the Red Room’s operations, Satoru stayed close to you.

You both were alone now, walking down the dark corridor of the destroyed facility. The quiet was oppressive, and you felt the weight of the years you had spent running from yourself catch up to you. You hadn’t said a word since the battle ended.

Satoru stopped walking, turning to face you. There was no one else around now—no mission, no enemies, no distractions. Just the two of you, standing in the ruins of what had once been your prison.

“I know it’s not over for you. This doesn’t magically fix everything”, his voice was low, almost gentle.

There was no pressure, no urgency. Just a quiet understanding.

“I don’t know how to move past this. How to be… normal. How to feel anything other than pain”

“You don’t have to do it alone. You don’t have to fix everything in one night” he reminded you, “But I’ll be here. Whenever you need me. And when you’re ready, I’ll help you carry it”

Your heart thundered in your chest. The walls around you—those walls you had built for years—felt like they were crumbling. But for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel scared. You didn’t feel like a weapon.

You were just… yourself.

“Thank you”, your voice was quiet, the weight of your gratitude heavy.

Satoru didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He simply reached out, placing a hand gently on you shoulder.

And for the first time, you didn’t pull away.

[bimbo-baggins17]

(just a random thought that i wanted to share with someone) but james kelly having a lawyer s/o who manages to help him with everything he needs to open his own shop, and things finally start to work for him, and he feels all happy and in love, and he doesn't really know how to express it, so he's just clingy, buying his s/o gifts or taking them out for dates more often, talking about them with other people the whole time

No because I love this idea. James isn’t one to really show his emotions or brag about what’s going on in his life. Honestly he hasn’t really had much reason to until he met you. This got a little away from me sorry

You both met by chance, both of you at the bar the same night. You overheard him complaining to the bartender about his troubles and fighting with the banks to get his own shop up and running. It’s probably the alcohol in your system that gives you the courage to approach him. “Couldn’t help but to overhear you’re having a bit of a problem.” He’d roll his eyes a bit mumbling a, “That’s one way to put it.” as he brings the bottle up to his lips and takes another sip. You both would spend the rest of the night until last call talking about it and brainstorming ideas. You’d end up leaving before him but not before you give him your number so he could get in contact.

At first the texts (maybe phone calls?) were purely work related. They get flirty though every so often. He was a bit skeptical of this working out because when did things go in his favor? But the miracle happens and you’re able to vouch enough for him to the banks (thanks to your reputable name) to the point they approve him. Celebratory drinks at the bar that brought you two together is a must after that. Both of you spend the evening laughing and albeit pretty tipsy but it’s the lightest he’s felt in a long time. The only downside to finding the success is that he assumes this is where your time together draws to an end. He knows he can’t let you slip through his fingers so he works up the nerve and asks you on a real date, not just to some run down bar.

You end up being everything he could have ever wished for and more. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, or what he did in a previous life to have deserved you but he won’t complain.

The days that were slow, he’d stop by your office to bring you lunch and eat together. He couldn’t go the whole day without seeing you.

As the success of his place grows, the more gifts he finds himself buying for you and fancier places he takes you to. One of his favorite things to do, even if it’s simple, is to stop by your law firm to bring you flowers/favorite chocolates/little gifts (I’m not sure if you wear jewelry but if you do he buys it for you). Perhaps a ‘J’ pendent necklace so he’s always close to your heart. “Oh my gosh, Jamie..” He smiles sheepishly trying to gauge your reaction, “You like it?” “Like it? I love it. But you didn’t need to do that for me, y’know?” He shrugs, “Maybe not but I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

He’d be cheesy enough to keep a framed photo of you on his desk back in his little office at the shop, maybe a small one in the pocket of his jumpsuit. He’d show you off any chance he gets. Old coworkers from the last mechanic shop, clients, etc. “Yeah, I’m real lucky. Got this place all to myself and I got this one waiting for me at home.” He’d say proudly, grinning ear to ear and he pulls the little photo out to show you off. “Only reason I got this place was cause of them. I owe them everything.” The words hold a warmth as he looks down fondly at your smiling face.

He means it when he says he owes you everything. He could give you the moon and he still wouldn’t think it was enough.

[lonelywhalien22]

constant

pairing: sangyeon x reader

rating/genre: fluff + comfort <3

summary: after a long week of work, you and sangyeon barely have anything left in you to give, but what you do have you give to each other. selflessly.

warnings: none, just people choosing to love each other even when they’re exhausted <3

word count: 2.2k

song(s) to listen to while reading: good for you by eric nam, constant by jesse barrera ft. jeremy passion <3

note: back at it again with another comfort fic that i polished up from my old drafts. probably tmi but a while back i was listening to an episode of a podcast that was all about long-term partnership and this one idea of each partner rating their current level of capacity in a given moment was just fascinating to me. and then i wrote this wishing i had someone in my life like that. if that barely makes sense just read and you’ll get what im describing hopefully hehe. i'm in love with this type of relationship so i hope you enjoy <3

————

Sangyeon stepped through the door of your shared apartment that Friday evening to find that you were sitting comfortably in the living room with the television on, the sun having already set and the noise of commuters driving home having finally died down outside. It was quiet and peaceful, and his shoulders instantly relaxed as he finally shook off some of his work worries and thought ahead to the weekend - to finally getting to wind down with you and sleep in for the first time in too long.

“Hey babe,” you heard him say softly as you finally turned to look at him from your spot on the couch. You could see the tiredness radiating from his body, a large hand raking through his hair to push it out of his face as he gave you a little smile before hanging his jacket on one of the hooks you’d put up by the door.

You wished you could smile back but you’d had a rough day yourself - tired from work and getting stuck in traffic as you’d worried about a million little things on the way home.

He groaned as he noticed your expression, finally making his way over to you as he rubbed a hand over the back of your hair softly and gave you a peck on the forehead before plopping down on the couch. You couldn’t help but soften your expression when you felt his calming touches. That was Sangyeon – he was nothing if not instantly calming.

“Tell me where you’re at right now,” he asked of you softly, voice low as if he didn’t want to disturb your quiet. You turned to look at him, your eyes completely drained, and you could see the instant concern that radiated from him as you responded, even through his own tired eyes.

“I’m at like a 3 right now.”

Sometime after the two of you started dating you came up with a system to rate your emotional capacity at any given moment on a scale of 1 to 10. It seemed weird but it was really just a way for you both to quickly gauge how the other was feeling and know whether one of you was able to carry more of the load on any given day. The higher the number, the higher your capacity.

“I’m at a 4,” Sangyeon said immediately, and you gave him a pout.

It seemed like recently whenever you both happened to have bad days he always tried to be just a little higher than you so he could be the one to take care of things – take care of you. He didn’t like for you to worry about him even though you knew he needed to be taken care of too sometimes, just like anyone else. You made a mental note that from now on, you’d say your numbers at the same time.

“Sangyeon. Be honest with me.”

“I’ve had worse days,” he brushed your concerns away, easing around the subject.

You noticed how he didn’t try to insist he was telling you the truth about how he was feeling. Sangyeon always took his words seriously, treating them with a carefulness that almost rivaled how he treated you. He never was one to outright lie, and so after one too many times of buried feelings in the past, you’d learned how to read between the lines of his words. Sure, he may have had worse days, but that didn’t mean today wasn’t a particularly bad one.

You rubbed his arm a few times before shifting closer to him on the couch and resting your head against his chest. He wrapped an arm across your waist and pulled you in even closer, giving you another kiss in your hair as the two of you held each other. His movements comforted you, but you also knew that this was what he did to comfort himself after a long day. Doting on you was how he released his frustration sometimes.

He smelled like the laundry you two did together last weekend mixed with the day’s efforts and a hint of something that you could only describe as uniquely him, and if you were being honest you probably could have fallen asleep right there in his arms. But instead you kept rubbing your hand against his back in that way you knew he liked, hoping he’d relax some more and finally let go of whatever it was he’d been carrying all day like you wanted him to.

Eventually he released a deep sigh at your ministrations, and you felt his muscles relax underneath your palm. You hid the tiny smile that appeared on your lips, burying your head closer into his chest as he finally spoke up.

“Work was just a lot. Has been all week, but especially today.”

You hummed at his words gently.

“Did rehearsal go into overtime again?” And in response you felt him nod against your skin, the crook of his head now pressed into your neck.

“There was this one part we just really struggled to get in sync. And I kept worrying that I was messing up everyone else.” Sangyeon sighed again and you tried to hold onto him even tighter at those words. You knew how much he hated feeling like he wasn’t being a good leader to his group. How much he tended to carry that weight on his shoulders without a single complaint.

“I’m sorry babe. I can tell you’ve had a long day. You must be tired.”

“I’m sure you’re just as tired as me,” he said then, refusing to let you dismiss your own worries in your attempts to comfort him. Your mind drifted back to all the stuff you’d dealt with today.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he mumbled into your neck, breaking you out of your train of thought as he kissed the spot gently. You couldn’t help but smile a little at that despite your stress, combing your fingers through the strands at the back of his head as you thought about it for moment before finally responding.

“Not yet,” you answered. “What I really need right now is you. Holding me. Just like this. I missed you so much today.”

Sangyeon didn’t stress it, simply giving you what you asked for. After years of being together, he knew this was just how you were – you kept the complexities of your mind to yourself until you could really articulate what it was you wanted to say. And he was always there when you were finally ready to lay it all on him, even at the most random of times. He was always waiting for you with open arms, and you loved him for that.

“I missed you too. Did you eat?”

He separated himself from your hold just enough to look at you directly then, and you pursed your lips guiltily.

“No…but I did pick up some takeout.”

You had a bad habit of waiting to eat dinner until Sangyeon got home so the two of you could eat together - especially on Fridays, when he had the highest chances of getting back at a decent hour. That meant that sometimes you went without food for longer than was acceptable to him. Not to mention you’d toss and turn all night from the lack of digestion before bed. When you couldn’t sleep he couldn’t either, no matter how tired he was.

You looked up at him sheepishly then and you could tell he was about to scold you, but before he could, the two of you heard the loud rumble of his stomach.

“Uh…” Sangyeon started with his own guilty look.

You giggled, a smirk forming on your lips. The blush on his face was unmistakable as he averted his eyes from yours, rubbing the back of his reddening neck.

“Let’s eat,” you said, taking charge then.

You got up before he could hold you back with those tempting hands of his and began filling up two plates, grabbing water for the both of you as well and making your way back to the couch. He looked at you gratefully as he took a plate from your hands, eager to dig in. The two of you ate in silence, you spooning yourself up servings of kimchi fried rice while Sangyeon dove into a container of noodles and some egg rolls, his favorite from this spot a few blocks away from your place. He finished his food first, like he always did, sipping on his water as he stared over at you reverently.

“What?” You asked as you swallowed another mouthful of rice, a rare moment of self-consciousness bubbling up inside of you.

“I just like seeing you eat well. That’s all.”

He leaned in then and gave you a peck on your lips. It tasted faintly sweet like the sauce from his egg rolls and even though you knew he was trying to be quick you still got lost in it like you did every time he kissed you, closing your eyes for a moment before he pulled away.

“Uh uh, finish eating first and then let’s get ready for bed,” he chided, and you rolled your eyes, trying to finish the rest of your food as quickly as possible.

You’d already showered so once you were done eating you worked on brushing your teeth and cleaning your face as Sangyeon hopped into the shower. The two of you were so used to sharing space by now that you didn’t even blink twice as he took his shirt off before he even reached the bathroom. He finished undressing and slipped into the stream of warm water while you focused on yourself in the mirror, proud that you only peaked at his silhouette through the shower curtains once while he was cleaning up.

You were in bed laying under the sheets with a book in your hands when he finally got out of the bathroom, a look of pure bliss on his face as he put his towel away and made his way over to your shared bed. You could tell that, just as usual, he was feeling much better after a good shower.

He rolled under the sheets before leaning over towards you, his head craning towards your neck as he gave you another kiss there, this one slightly longer. You could feel the softness of his lips and smell the lavender scent of his shampoo, even noticing how smooth and soft the little bits of his skin that touched yours were from the lotion you always urged him to use.

You closed your book immediately and set it on the nightstand because you knew you wouldn’t be able to read a single word with him right beside you like this. Sangyeon shuffled even closer to you then, your shoulders touching as he raised his head to be at eye level again. His large hand landed on your thigh, the rough calluses of his palm contrasting with how gently he touched you and making goosebumps rise on your skin. You knew he was only touching you in a comfort sort of way but somehow it still made butterflies appear in your stomach - just like the first time the two of you ever laid together.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you looked over at him, not wanting to disrupt such a precious moment.

“For what?” he asked, a genuine curiosity lighting up his face.

You just tilted your head and shook it serenely, a tiny sigh leaving your lips.

“For taking care of me. Even when you’re exhausted.”

‘’Of course. I should be thanking you too, you know. I love you.”

He always said those three words so easily, like he was just breathing in air or blinking. They came out on instinct because at this point it was just a fact - he’d known for a while now that you were forever a part of him, simple as that.

You didn’t respond with words, instead leaning in with hooded eyes and cupping the side of his face with your hand. You kissed him softly, trying to tell him how you were feeling with your lips. Words had never come that easily to you.

He tilted his head and intensified the kiss, nipping at your lips a few times but keeping the pace slow and his kisses deep. You could feel his hair pressed against your forehead from how close he was and after a while it just felt like you were melting into each other somehow.

When you finally parted, he finished with another quick peck before quickly turning out the lamp on his side and pulling you into his arms, the two of you making yourselves comfortable as you laid down in bed.

“Come here,” Sangyeon mumbled in playful stubbornness, pulling you impossibly closer as you giggled.

Your head laid on his chest with an arm draped across his waist while his arm was securely wrapped around yours. The pairs of your legs tangled together seamlessly under the sheets as he laid on his back and you on your side, nestled into him.

As your eyes finally drifted closed, a whisper of “I love you too,” slipped from between your lips while your fingers rubbed back and forth across his wide chest, luring you to sleep.

“I know baby. I know.”