#what a fucking look i watched this video more times than were necessary to gif it tbh

[christakisbang]

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - IX - BETTER WATCH HOW YOU THINK OUT LOUD, IF IT'S 'BOUT ME THOUGH 📜

🖼️ moodboard

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➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

Note: We made the magic number 🎊, sorry to post so late but I know you guys dont like to wait a moment longer than necessary.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.7K

Warning: The usual apply. Trigger warning for all the toxicity that comes with Narc abuse.

Summary: This chapter is sunshine and a storm. Rio and the Reader enjoy a day out together in Mexico. Their last day abroad together only makes their bond stronger. The rest you'll have to read and see 😉

IX - BETTER WATCH HOW YOU THINK OUT LOUD, IF IT'S 'BOUT ME THOUGH 📜

Sitting relaxed Rio watches the sun cast golden hues on you as it prepares to set. The ocean sprays along the boat as dolphins lead the charge ahead of the boat ushering you back to the resort. The day had been incredible. The two of you had shared several moments of firsts. Your connection could not be denied. It was way too strong so much so that you felt like you were in sync. Turning around you find Rio watching as you hold over the edge of the boat to watch the dolphins. Your eyes find each other and he nods giving you an encouraging smile. He admired how much you enjoyed every bit of effort he put into the trip. It makes him want to do even more to keep a smile on your face. He made a mental note to tip the member of the hotel staff well for recommending the set of excursions that he had. Rio had asked what were the bestsellers for couples and women and then booked accordingly. The day started ziplining which was rough considering the night's festivities but after a nap during the ride to swim with dolphins you were ready for the day. He’d been around you long enough to detect any personality defects, and found none. Building a business meant great people management skills. He couldn't think of any sensible reason for James’ cheating. Instead, he understood why James was being such an asshole about letting you go. Smiling Rio takes a video of you looking at the dolphins happily. Wearing a cheeky bikini bottom and short sarong, the video would only be for him but he would keep the memory nonetheless. 

“Rio, come see!” you call him over. He obliges despite not giving a single fuck about the dolphins, fish and everything else exciting you at the moment. He smiles mostly at your excitement. “It’s so gorgeous, thank you for this” you smile looking up at him.

“You’re welcome” Rio nods.

You sit enjoying the sunset as the boat takes a scenic way to the doc by the resort. Rio settles feeling you next to him, his mind is on what will happen when you return home. There were a couple of properties he was managing, he would schedule some showings and do his best to respect your need for space if that's what you needed. Only he’d already started shifting his schedule to be around most nights, he would have to find someone to keep eyes on James too just in case the entitled fuck decided to do anything sneaky. 

“Did you have fun?” you ask, interrupting Rio's thoughts. He smiles nodding, he did but not for the same reasons as you.

Rio nods, “I enjoyed myself.”

“I don't think you did” You respond both amused and appreciative that he’d taken the time to make today all about you and your enjoyment.

“I enjoyed seeing you enjoy yourself. I like making money and taking care of my people.” Rio says, a simple man. Looking him over you realise he’d revealed no vices during the entire trip. He didn’t drink too much and there were no frequent smoke breaks. His eyes never lingered on the assortment of scantily clad women scattered around the resort. No flirting, or whispering on the phone and he seemed too proud to lie. He’d also managed to make you feel considered every step of the way. 

“Well I had an incredible time, I’m really really really happy you invited me out here and made it so special.” you smile smothering him with quick kisses in your giddiness.

“I know,” Rio nods, pecking your forehead.

Getting off the boat you walk hand in hand with him through the resort and towards your room. You pass by a group of his family eating and the smirk on Nick’s face is unsettling. Marisol looks apologetic but it’s Tia’s eyes that catch yours. She stands coming over and pulling both you and Rio away.

“Rio, can I talk to Y/N quickly?” she asks.

“No” Rio interjects holding your hand tighter. “What is it?” He asks.

“Come here sweetie” Marisol says standing and reaching for you only for Rio to grab your wrist.

“She ain’t going nowhere, what the fuck is up?” Rio snaps getting upset.

“She's married” Nick mocks glaring at Rio. Everyone tenses but Rio who relaxes much to everyone's shock.

“See, I told you there was more to the story!” Marisol says to Nick reading Rio’s body language and Tia rolls her neck at Nick with folded arms.

“What happened?” you ask.

“James, whoever the fuck that is messaged all of us.” Tia signs and Rio loosens his grip.

“What did it say?” you ask as your anger surges. She hands you her phone allowing you to read it.

Hello Tia, I regret to inform you that I have discovered an ongoing affair between your cousin and my wife. This situation has caused immense pain and distress to our family. I am reaching out to you in hopes that you can address this matter with your cousin directly. It is crucial that this affair ends immediately for the well-being of all parties involved. My wife and I have a loving relationship, and this indiscretion is merely a result of her current state of boredom and emotional instability. Continuing this affair will only lead to more hurt and damage. I implore you to intervene and help put an end to this destructive behaviour. Your cousin risks significant emotional harm if this continues. Please, for the sake of both our families, help bring this to an end.

Looking up from the phone embarrassed isn’t the word. You flush overheating as you become nauseated. Your eyes water looking at the lies.

“He sent this to all of you?” Rio asks, having read the message too.

“Everyone tagged me on my story last night, got one” Tia explains.

“Christopher” Marisol interjects as Rio’s anger reaches a ten.

“You okay?” Rio asks, taking your chin. Blinking you close your eyes and tears run down. “Hey, he’s lying don't cry” Rio says trying to calm you down.

“I need some time alone” you swallow turning away from the crowd as the walls close in around you. Your hands and face are hot. Emotionally unstable?! You feel it now as you head to the room feeling crazy. Heading into the room you try to regulate your breathing and manage to dial James number from memory. It goes to voicemail but youre so angry you call five more times until he picks up.

“Who is this?”James’ voice says grating your nerves.

“You piece of shit!” you shout.

“Mexico really!?” he shouts back. “And youre so fucking messy youre there with another man, and you have the audacity to post him and be kissing him at the airport while being married-”

“You're so beyond unbelievable JAMES!” You scream. “YOU’RE FUCKING A BIMBO FOR MONTHS AND I DON’T CALL HER, I DON’E MESSAGE HER I LEAVE YOU TO ALONE! YET YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO DIVORCE ME AND LET ME BE IN PEACE. YOU ALWAYS TOLD ME KEEP PEOPLE OUT OF OUR RELATIONSHIP AND YOU MESSAGE HIS FAMILY WITH BULLSHIT ABOUT US BEING IN LOVE. I WAS EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE WHEN I SAID I DO AT THAT ALTER, I’VE BEEN EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE OUR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP TO LET YOU TREAT ME LIKE AN AFTERTHOUGHT AND A PERSONAL ASSISTANT BUT I’M DONE WITH THAT. I’M DONE WITH YOU! DON’T CALL ME OR MY MOTHER OR ANY OF THE PEOPLE I ASSOCIATE WITH.”

“Calm down” he responds, gaslighting you further. You nearly blow a gasket. There's a knock at the door and you swallow trying to remain calm as you head to the door. Marisol’s sympathetic expression awaits outside the door. Overwhelmed, you step back to let her in. If you could disappear you would. 

“Baby, where are you? I’ll book a flight and be there as soon as you need me to be” James continues driving you crazy.

“James, I don't want you and after what you did today I never want to see you again, don’t call me, don't write me, don't call my mom, my friends or my family!” you snap.

“Then stop posting! If you wouldn't have posted for everyone to see I wouldn't have had to intervene you're taking this too far. This guy whoever he is doesn't mean well, you're vulnerable he's taking advantage” James’ words are just more manipulation.

“Speak for yourself” you scoff. “I’ve never done anything to deserve what you did and what you’ve done to me today” you snap.

“I’m not sorry, at least it made you call,” he says, making your ears ring. It’s Marisol that hangs up the phone on your behalf. You take deep breaths as her eyes hold yours. She looks horrified.

“I’m sorry I’m ruining your wedding trip” You apologise, feeling horrible.

“The fact that you're even apologising after that tells me everything I need to know” she swallows, shaking her head at James' abounding audacity. “I’m sorry about Nick, he thinks you're too good for Rio and it would be a funny aha moment if you were playing him. It was just a shocking message you know” she apologises.

“Marisol, there’d be no apologies if it weren't for my drama on your wedding vacation.” You apologise.

“Girl, there’s always drama. I don't care about a party more than I care about a human being. James will pay for this mess I promise you that. Nick owes us big time for that stunt back there, I can imagine your divorce hearing will be expedited and after those messages. We’ll explore an injunction for both a gag and restraining order. Besides, his actions will do wonders for pain and suffering - extra alimony. We can talk and I can report on emotional abuse.” Marisol says in full therapist, problem solver mode.

“Really?” you can't contain your surprise.

“Really sweetie, now that you're okay I’ve got to make sure Rio doesn’t kill the guy or Nick first” she says.

“Please, James isn't worth it the drama” you mutter.

“I will try, just decompress and relax unless you want me to call him here?” Marisol asks.

“It’s alright, just please apologise to everyone for me” you repeat and she smiles.

“Fuck that asshole James” She says and theres a knock on the door. You open it and Tia walks in with a tray of treats. Marisol leaves and Tia stays sitting with you in the cozy living room. It’s the venting session you’ve missed out on. You video call your mother too and the three of you talk everything out. It ends letting you feel lighter. You order room service and eat with Tia once your mom ends the call. You tell her about your day trying your hardest not to let James ruin all of Rio’s planning. It’s how he finds you when he comes in smelling like weed. His energy is tense as he nods heading in the bathroom.

“You think he’s mad at me?” you ask Tia as she checks her phone.

“Nope” she smiles showing you a video of you and the dolphins today. There’s no caption, only the business is tagged as well as you. You smile too. “Your James might be used to winning, but nobody beats Rio” she says getting up.

“It’s dark Tia, let me walk you back to your villa” Rio says emerging from the bathroom.

“I was leaving, asshole, you don’t have to be like that and rush me out” she stands fanning him off.

“Keep playing with me and I’ll tell Granny what you be doing with her zucchini loaf” Rio warns. Tia deadpans pretending to zip her lips.

“Y/N say you have an allergy. It’s dis-gus-ting!” Tia warns, making you laugh.

“Can I come with you guys?” you ask.

“You don't need permission, you're grown” Tia smiles, linking arms in yours. The walk to Tia’s side of the resort is about ten minutes and full of her colourful personality. Once she’s settled you take Rio’s hand he hasn’t said much to you since James stunt. He takes your hands and kisses them before pulling you in.

“Don’t apologise” he says before you can.

“I made you look bad to your family” you say.

“Nah, you made Nick look terrible. Everyone sat there ripping him a new one. I don’t owe them explanations but I told them about James and it’s settled” Rio says and you smile feeling overwhelmed by his support.

“I’m happy he cheated. If he didnt I wouldnt be here with you. Today was amazing and you’ve been a godsend through all of this. I know you tell me not to thank you but I really appreciate everything” your words are from the heart.

“You deserve it, people always get what they deserve. James will too for making you cry” he says and you nod trusting him with a smile. Ready for war you post more pictures from today to fan the flames. Rio’s family members along with yours rally in the comments hyping you up. You ignore any DM’s from James' family and smile when you see Tia addressing the chaos in your comments, airing out the truth to James. You watch attentively, refreshing until the comments from disgruntled family members of James’ start disappearing and make a mental note to take Tia to dinner.

Rio sits on the couch watching it too from his personal phone getting more and more pissed. Having had it with showing restraint he calls his people, as much as he wants to personally make James pay there’s no way to from here. He gets a two for one special on James taking both of his women out of the picture. His instructions are as follows. Make Japan an offer she won’t refuse to leave town and end communication with James. Scare her real bad. It’s the least of what she deserves for being complicit in your harassment. It has to be done tonight. Rio wants absolutely nothing to allow James to feel safe or content in his life. No woman to slide into, no one to listen to him, no one to call. James couldn’t play with you, not anymore. His mental health accusation would ultimately come back to bite him in the ass when Rio was through. Rio’s second set of instructions were for the cheating bastard James himself. He knew James would be at a bar tonight. He was the type. First Rio’s boys would be friendly while James drank. After James started talking too much they’d start to taunt him quietly. With the liquor in his system it wouldn't be long until a fight started. Only James wouldn't win this one getting the brakes beat out of him. He’d tried restraint but it was clear now more than ever that James needed to be broken and put out of commission. Nothing else would stop him from messing with you.

Pausing from the instruction Rio ponders if there’s anything else. Hearing the bedroom door open he ends the call after giving his people the green light.

“You alright?” he asks, eyeing the third of your lingerie sets. He makes a mental note to check the tags and buy out the store. When you sit in his lap instead of the free seat beside him he relaxes instantly.

“Yeah, you?” you ask him as he adjusts you for his own comfort.

“Better now” he nods.

“I’m exhausted from today baby, can you come to bed so we can sleep?” you ask him and he sees it in your eyes. He had a romantic dinner planned to commemorate the last night. He’d planned to ask you to be his properly, officially to clear any confusion but of course James fucked that up.

“My ego isn't so fragile you gotta tip toe around being tired mama.” Rio smiles reading between the lines. Though his appetite for you felt insatiable he didn’t view you as his personal sex-slave regardless of any jokes he’d made in the past.

“It’s not about your ego Rio, I know what it’s like to be unappreciated and I don't want to be that person” you yawn. Rio leads the both of you to the bedroom. Pulling the sheets back he watches you get under the covers first before settling in himself. You fall asleep in no time but Rio’s slower to go. He watches you sleep, each breath quells his anger until he drifts off too knowing ain’t shit sweet or peaceful for James tonight.

Author's note: Whew, chile this one was a rollercoaster. I feel like thats how it goes sometimes, unfortunately. Can we believe the ish James pulled? Like the audacity of him to send that mass message. At least Rio has some real ones in his family. Let me know what your favourite part was?

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TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads

[gummydummy19]

Kinktober day 6: Bondage (Captain Syverson x F reader)

Request: by @jamneuromain

Balance

Summary: Sy loses a bet and you give him a taste of his own medicine

Content Warnings: smut, fluffy ending

A/N: This was very very very fun to write :))

Word count: 1400+

"Please, sugar...FUCK, please please, c'mon!"

He didn't even know what he was begging for.

More? Less? Stop? Don't stop, ever?

"Tut tut! Be a good boy for me, Daddy..." you cooed, pressing more kisses on his chest while lazily jerking his leaking cock with the vibrating stroker toy you got him.

The cockring that sat snug around his balls prevented him from cumming. Tears had been welling in his eyes for at least half an hour, but stubborn as he was, he refused to let them fall.

Logan Syverson was a good lover. He was kind, he was respectful and he had a habit of making you cum so many times you lost count.

Sy was a lot of things, but gentle wasn't one of them.

You knew he loved you, he made sure of that. He told you so every single day. And that was necessary because every single night he fucked you like he didn't.

He would tease you until you cried. He made you beg him to touch you before making you beg him to stop. He was relentless, he was mean.

You didn't mind it, you wouldn't be with him if you did, but sometimes it seemed a little unfair. He got to push your boundaries all the time, but you never got to push his. You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. To show him you craved other things sometimes. You were such a good girl, surely he could learn how to be a bit softer...from time to time.

One afternoon, you saw a video on TikTok. It was a girl challenging her boyfriend to do an exercise she was doing, where she leaned down with her hands behind her back. It seemed fairly easy, but no matter what the guy tried, he kept falling over. Apparently, a man's balance point is lower than a woman's, which means there are certain movements they can't do without losing balance.

You decided to challenge Sy to a bet. Whoever fell over first, lost, and the person who kept their balance got to do whatever they wanted in the bedroom.

Sy never lost bets. Which is why he had agreed to make this one. Because he was so incredibly sure he would win.

"So all I have to do is keep my balance?" he raised his brow before chuckling, "easy."

He stood beside you and watched your movements, confidentially copying what you were doing, but to his surprise, when he went to lean over with his hands behind his back he landed straight on his face.

You giggled at his frustrated growl.

"Wh-god damn it that didn't count! Let me try again!" he sputtered, straightening himself

"Nuh-uh! You know the deal." You grinned, shuffling closer to him before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, "You're mine Captain Syverson. Mine to do with as I please."

It had been hours.

Sy was a mess. His arms were tied above his head, his face was red and sweaty and his cock was leaking like never before.

You had brought him to the edge countless of times, every single time you promised you'd let him cum, and every single time he fell for it, hope swirling in the pit of his stomach before he got disappointed all over again.

He had a safeword, yet he refused to use it. Insisting he was strong. He was a trained army captain, he could take some teasing. Especially since this was absolutely nothing in comparison with what he did to you...like at all.

Damn...he really was mean.

"Does daddy wanna cum?" , your tone was teasing...taunting even as you looked up at him with the most innocent doe eyes you could manage.

"Fuck yes...please princess...be a good girl and make daddy cum...please!" He whined, bucking his hips upward when he felt your lips lick the drops off his tip.

"M'always a good girl for daddy, but it doesn't matter does it? Daddy punishes me anyway." You stated

"Shit...I'm sorry, Sugar...daddy is so fucking sorry...please?"

Suddenly, you stopped touching him altogether, sliding the toy off his cock and placing it somewhere he couldn't see.

He whipped his head up, staring at you with desperate eyes.

"What are you sorry for, daddy?" You stared at him expectantly

"I...I'm..." he stuttered

Fuck he wasn't good at this.

"I'm sorry for always being mean, baby...I....I love you, I promise I do, I just..."

"I love you too, Sy." You assured, interrupting him to make sure he didn't spiral.

You knew he wasn't used to being in the submissive spot, and as much as you wanted to bring your point across, you didn't wanna overwhelm him either.

"I love it when you're mean, daddy..." you assured him, pressing a soft his on his tummy, "just need some reassurance sometimes....need my sweet n soft daddy every once in a while..."

Your tongue swiped up the fallen drops of pre-cum on his stomach, moaning at the taste.

"Can you do that for me? Pretty please?"

"I'll do anything for you, Princess," he assured you, looking straight into your eyes so you knew he meant it.

"Hmmm...good daddy" you grinned, before taking his throbbing, hard cock into you mouth.

Sy's head fell back again and he yanked at his cuffs, hands itching you guide your movements.

Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, he heard the familiar buzz of the vibrating stroker, only this time he didn't feel it anywhere.

He peeled his eyes open to what you were doing, and the sight he was met with nearly did him in. His toy was nestled between your legs, pressed perfectly against your clit, making you moan and hum with your mouth still stuffed full of his cock.

'Ah, please! Please let me cum, please! I'm sorry, I'll be good. I'll be so fucking good to you, please. You're such a good girl, such a fucking good girl, please lemme cum baby!" he pleaded.

Having a hard time hearing him beg the way he did, you decided he'd finally had enough. Besides, you were really fucking close to cumming yourself and your submissive nature still wanted to please your daddy,

You quickly removed the cockring from his base, giving him your permission before taking him back in your mouth.

You humped down on the toy a little harder and the second you felt the first surge of Sy's cum hit the back of your throat you tumbled over the edge yourself, moaning around his cock as you swallowed everything he gave you. You road out the faves of your orgasm, relishing in the deep grunts and groans rumbling from Sy's chest.

You made sure to swallow every last drop of Sy's spent before releasing him from your mouth. For a split second, you thought about overstimulating him a little, but when you saw how fucked out and utterly exhausted he looked, you wanted nothing more than to just cuddle up against him.

And that's exactly what you did.

You clumsily crawled up his body, quickly pressing soft kisses up his chest before unlocking the cuffs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

He was so tired he didn't even move his arms, so you pressed some more kisses on his wrists as you gently put down his arms, snuggling yourself under one of them, nuzzling against his side.

You kept giving him little kisses wherever you could reach, loving the lazy grin that kept growing and growing on his big dumb face.

After a couple minutes, you felt his plush lips against your still-warm cheek. The scruff of his beard made you giggle, and the sound made his heart swell.

Wordlessly, you sat up and grabbed the big bottle of water from your nightstand, handing it over to him.

"You first," he stated, gently pushing it back to you.

Ever the dom, you thought to yourself as you took a couple big gulps before passing it back to him.

The two of you stayed in bed for quite a while after that. Checking in with each other, making sure everything was alright, which it was, more than alright actually.

"I must say, Sugar, I learned a lot today," he sighed, pulling you closer against him.

"Oh, really?" you grinned, pressing a kiss against his beefy shoulder, "Like what?"

He looked at you with a newfound calmness in his eyes before saying,

"How to keep my balance"

Taglist;

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[chuckmaider]

Those F*cking Polaroids

So, I saw Dinner in America recently and I don't know what just happened but it occurred to me to do this.

If you saw the movie you'll understand and if you didn't see it it doesn't really matter and its not really necessary bcs only part of it is based on the movie.

English it's not much frist language, pls sorry for any kind of error.

The Riddler/Edward Nashton x obsessive! gn! reader

Summary: Reader meets Riddler while browsing the Internet and becomes obsessed with him and his plan to unmask the city, and... Maybe send some curious Polaroids after hacking his address.

Warnings/tags: Obsessive behavior, address hacking, a bit of humiliation kink (reader), tall reader (like 2 o 3 cm more than Ed) , weird reader, creepy reader, obsessive reader, a little bit of dom! Reader Sub! Eddie, Eddie is weird too, prob autistic reader(?) and I so sorry but this si so Out of Character Eddie (idk how to write him I'm sorry 😭), I feel like this is kinda boring so uhm at least the beginning es very boring but um it's very long too i think soo Im sorry idk, we need more insane reader

I met The Riddler when I saw a video of him on some strange Internet page that I was on, it was one of his first posts and the beginning of his...career. At first I was just curious about what he wanted to do, we both had a lot in common about what we thought of the city, both of us were abandoned and discarded by those who claimed to take care of us, to look out of us, to give us a better life. Over time I started to see him more, I made an account and saw him on his page, sometimes, very rarely, I would comment on my opinion about what he said, and he really seemed to notice me.

I can't really say when I started to obsess about him, I guess from first moment that I saw him, something happened to me and that's why I kept seeing him.

I felt something, I felt something, I felt something when I saw him, and I think that's what led me to... Take this further. I didn't feel much, not because I was insensitive, I could feel, but nothing was really that exciting or interesting to capture my attention enough to make me feel anything. I work in a coffee shop, it's small, but sometimes fun things happen with customers, but not enough to keep me amused or not bored for the rest of the day, but there's one customer in particular, who comes almost every day, asks for a cappuccino, a pumpkin pie and sits for hours with a notebook to write. Sometimes I keep looking at him longer than necessary, it's interesting to know what might be going through his head, or what things he'll be writing about.

I was sitting watching the news on the small TV in the cafeteria, it was just me and the usual customer, he was, as always, writing things in his notebook. They were talking something about the Mitchell boy, a guy running for mayor of the Gothic City, just like everyone making empty promises, talking shit and more shit.

"This is crap, he should kill himself quickly and then maybe there will be a real change in this fucking city” I whispered thinking that no one would hear me, I took the remote control and was going to change the channel, but a voice stopped me “wait, I want to listen” it was lucky that there was no more noise than the TV and a few cars passing outside, otherwise I wouldn't have heard the low voice that spoke. I turned to look at him and left the control at the inn “do you support that shit?” I asked him, he looked at me for a few seconds and shook his head “no, of course not, he should kill himself for real change” I looked at him for a few seconds, and without saying anything I gave him a small smile. We didn't talk again after that, a new customer arrived and the old one left, I kept my eye on him as he left, and I could see how he sent me one last look and continued on his way.

After work I returned home and prepared for what was coming, today The Riddler (as we called it) would be live at night and I wanted to see it, but I had some things planned to do first. I studied programming for two or three years, I didn't finish my degree thanks to my lack of money and motivation, but I learned enough things to be able to do what I was going to do. Some would call me immoral, sick, or maybe call me a crazy and obsessed freak, but I wasn't interested right now, it never did. I took my computer and started, went to his page and copied the link, continued to go to other forums, writing codes and finally after a good hour I was able to locate his address (or at least that of his computer), I must say that he was quite protected, it cost more than other times, but I succeeded. I smiled when I saw the small bright spot on the screen, which indicated the exact place where his (I assume) house was right now, I didn't plan to know his identity, of course, I wanted to know who he was, but my plans were different.

I put on my clothes, exactly like his, and waited for the live show to start. I took my Instant Camera and left it aside from the computer. As I listened to his voice I could feel my body starting to warm up, I twisted myself a little in my chair and kept looking at him. After 10 minutes, i was hot enough and I started. I lowered my hand and put it under my pants and underwear, let out a sigh and tilted my head back, continued stroking, rubbing and I felt my climax approach, I accelerated my movements and with my free hand I took the camera and took a photo at the time of my ejaculation, waited for the photo to come out and throw it aside, I took my shiny hand out with my cum and took another photo of it, making sure that it could see the computer with the live one.

As the live went on, my breathing calmed down and I smiled excitedly. I could still feel my face warm because of the blush and the moisture of the sweat on my body “this is for you, Riddler...” I thought as I watched the screen. At the end of the live, he said goodbye to everyone and I closed my computer, took a notebook and wrote the Letter I had planned to send him along with the Polaroids

𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵

𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶,

𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘶𝘯,

𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴,

𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 ��𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬.

I kept the Letter together with the Polaroids in a dark green envelope, closed it and saved it for sending tomorrow.

This became part of my routine for months, I wrote him letters, sometimes poems, other times I told him about my day and other times I told him my ideas and plans that he could use to unmask the city. Watching one of his lives, I could notice at one point that he had some Polaroids stuck on the wall, they weren't noticeable enough, but I noticed them.

In those months, I began to talk more with the customer who frequented the cafeteria, his name was Edward, I was never good with names, but I could remember his. We were quite similar, and even if neither of us really talked about their private life or past, I could tell that we had common opinions and other similar tastes, such as music. We were both part of a religious choir, my family was extremely religious and they put me in a church choir, which I left one day, the day I escaped from them. Edward loves riddles and all that kind of thing, he's really good with numbers too, riddles stressed me out, but numbers and calculations always helped me, as did technology. Edward was intelligent, he knew a lot about a lot of things, I didn't, but I liked to hear him ramble and digress about everything he wanted, I liked to hear him and feel that he could teach me, or easily humiliate me in anything he wanted, I studied programming and yet he seemed much wiser on that subject than me

Over time, I started to have some new feelings, feelings for Edward, at first I thought they were friendly, for being my first friend in years i was just excited, but I noticed things, I started to notice too many things in him, and I couldn't help but want to be with him, not as a friend. One day when I asked him for his number, I picked up his phone and quickly installed software and connected it to mine, it had his location and I could see everything he was doing on it, and although I know that there's no justification, I thought “it's to protect him, it's quite naive...” or so I thought. I didn't spend all my time seeing what I was doing or if I was talking to someone (which I didn't really do, I didn't talk to anyone but me)

After work I used to follow him, a part of me couldn't really get to his house, but I always saw him, constantly. I was so enthralled with him, too much, that it started to become painful. Edward, My Edward, was too much for me, everything I felt for him. I started compare him with him, with the Riddler, and I realized things that maybe I shouldn't have done. Looking at his address, I finally noticed his house was in the exact place where the Riddler lived, but it couldn't be him right? Even so, he couldn't know him either, he told me he lived alone, and I know he didn't lie to me.

While I was still with Edward, I continued to fall in, his way of talking, of thinking, of moving, his way of living with others, his hair, his eyes, his lips, his glasses. Everything about him had me trapped, entangled in him, and I didn't want to leave. Obviously, I hadn't forgotten Riddler, but he was different, I couldn't see him or feel like Edward, yet I kept sending him letters and photos, I was still his faithful follower.

I needed to know, I needed to know if what I knew was true, if all these months of research and incredible stupidity had worked, and in fact, Edward is The Riddler.

I warned at work that I was sick so I wasn't, I knew that Edward was at work and that, if my theory was correct, no one would be home. I went up the emergency stairs and saw his apartment, it had white curtains and the window opened easily, I suppose that when we are together I could fix it to make it safer, any freak could come in and do who knows what things. I could see when I was already inside, a large mural with everything related to Batman, the Waynes and Gotham City, I had a small computer in the inn and it was all quite messy and dirty, and full of papers and notebooks. I heard the jingle of the cage that was on the other side of the room and I saw that there were some rats inside, very good Edward, I won't judge your hobbies but I really wouldn't like to live with rats. I saw what the bathroom was like and it was quite dirty, it had empty pill bottles and in the corner there were some dirty clothes. Whether I took a shirt or not is not important. Finally I ventured to what would be his room, and even though his whole apartment was shouting The Riddler at me, I needed one last confirmation, being someone's most private room, I assumed that if Edward really was who I thought he was, everything should be there. I opened the door slowly and the first thing I saw was the large green fabric with the question mark in the middle characteristic of Riddler's fund of his lives, my breath was cut short for a moment and I felt as if I could ejaculate right now. It was him, Edward was, Edward is, the Riddler.

Then I saw them, I saw all of them, the Polaroids, the photos that I sent him together with the letters, each and every one of them in a space on the wall, attached to one side of his bed, there were some separate ones, marked as Favorites, he kept them, he stuck them, he really had me on his wall without even knowing that it was me.

I stayed for at least fifteen more minutes in his room, until I decided it was time to go, not before leaving a small hidden camera, just in case. That same night I couldn't sleep, after watching Riddler's live and knowing who he really was behind that beautiful mask, it could be said that I enjoyed masturbating too much watching him, the Letter was quite intense, demonstrating my devotion and love for him like never before. The next day I was still quite shocked but I knew how to hide it, until Edward, the Riddler, My Edward arrived... When I saw him I became more nervous than I usually would, not out of fear, no, of course not, I was ecstatic, my face burned just thinking about him and having it in front of me it felt as if I had just opened an oven and all the heat would come from it. “Hello Edward, the-the usual?” I asked him, feeling how my voice trembled very slightly “yes, thank you” He told me and sat in the inn in front of me. While I was preparing his coffee and taking out the piece of pumpkin pie I could feel his gaze on my back, burning and burning so exquisitely, I loved to feel his attention on me even though I was almost always the one who had his attention on him all the time, not because he wouldn't pay attention to me, but mostly I let him talk, and I contributed everything I could, but I loved listening to him too much to interrupt him. “Here, your coffee and your pie, it goes around the house, you don't need to pay anything” I said as I handed him his coffee, Edward looked at me surprised “what? -No, it's not necessary..!” ireplied, My Edward is so thoughtful. ”Don't worry Eddie, nobody here cares too much” I tell him and let out a giggle, I look at his eyes and notice that he relaxes, smiles and thanks me, proceeding to drink his coffee and eat his pie.

“Edd, would you like to come to my house today?” I asked her suddenly, seeing the surprise in her eyes, I could see her plump cheeks turning red and I smiled internally when I saw her reaction “you-your house? - I-i don't wanna bother you" he said "you could never bother me Edd, all these months and you don't know it?"

“Sorry, yes, but Uhm.. I have - I have some things to do and I really don't think I can go, I'm sorry” I could notice the nervousness in his voice which made me smile and want to play with him a little more "Come on, they can wait a day” I could see how he frowns and tried to disguise his surprise “what-what? Th-they what?”

"The work, silly. That's why you have to go home right? I know your type of job and they always leave a lot to do even after you finish everything” I could see how he visibly relaxed and the tension was leaving his body. “Yes, I suppose it can wait a little...” he smiled shyly at me. I told him to wait for me for a while since my work ended at 7 (what was in about fifteen minutes)

We walked for about twenty minutes until I reached the door of my apartment, “you know Edward, I've wanted to tell you some things for quite some time, I want to” I start talking as I open the door of my house “I did my homework and I was really surprised by the result, you know?” I let out a laugh, i still don't look at him as I entered the corridor and I locked the door “just in case, there have been some robberies around here” I say calmly, he looked at me confused just a few steps away from me. I looked back at him and finally dropped the “I know who you are, I know you're the Riddler” bomb.

“Who are you?” He seriously asks me “don't worry Eddie” I smile mockingly “I won't do anything to you, nothing you don't want at least” Edward takes only two steps towards me but immediately retreats as I approach him “don't even try anything Eddie, it's my house, I know it better than anyone” I walk slowly to him seeing how he goes back to girls with the wall next to the door that leads to the living room. Being close enough to feel his breath on my face, I start talking, “you know, I dreamt about this more times than I should, but before it wasn't you, well, it was you, but I didn't know it. Fantasize about the Riddler more times than you have done about destroying the city and its corruption. Later, I met you, we start talking and I could obsess with someone with a real face and name, but then... They were never two people were they? Just two personalities, Edward and Riddler” as I spoke I could feel like all their attention was on me, our eyes never disconnected until I approached him and whispered softly in his ear “but between us, we both know what the real one is, right?” I returned to his eyes, and for the first time it was me who kept talking, all too excited confessing to him. I took his shoulders and guided him to the door next to him, turned him around and made sure that his back would rest on me and let his eyes see all of my room, where everything related to Riddler and Eddie was, each of the points I connected and some photos I took without him noticed it “after a quick visit to your dirty apartment, I was able to confirm every single thing you see there, the Riddler was, in fact, my Edward” I squeeze his shoulders, and my voice breaks slightly thanks to my head, supporting my head on his shoulder and looking at him sideways, seeing his reaction to everything, I smile more broadly, I could confidently say that It's going to hurts my cheeks if I went on like this more time. “You, little mouse, were the cause of my obsession for months, and not only the Riddler, but also like Edward and, I swear, finding out that they were always just you, everything increased at least a hundred times more” I walked up to him, now looking at me again “Edward, Edward Nashton” I put my hands on his blushed cheeks “everything you see there is for you, And more, all the insane things I've done since I met you I did them for and for you, I am completely yours from the moment I found you, and oh God, seeing how you kept and pasted those Polaroids that I sent you was like getting to heaven, seeing that you really saw me without even knowing who I was makes me squirm in my bed like a teenager in love. You didn't know it and you already missed me”

Eddie put his hands on my hands that supported his cheeks, and spoke for the first time in minutes “it was always you, the one with the Polaroids..? Were you always the one who wrote all those letters to me? For Riddler?” she asked softly looking into my eyes “of course it was me, of course it was always me, Eddie” I smiled at him big time. "You don't- you don't know how those Polaroids affected me, what they did to me... You don't know how much those Polaroids worked on me...” the intensity in his gaze could cross walls if he could, but in me it only pierced my heart “oh Eddie-” without being able to finish, I felt like Edward kissed me intensely, melting at his touch I let myself go, I felt his teeth hitting mine thanks to the hardness of the kiss, his tongue entered my mouth and with pleasure I let him do what he wanted with me, his hands came down from mine to my waist and they hugged me tightly, I let out a moan through the feeling, his mouth and mine, his lips and the Mine, his tongue and mine are twisting, Edward let out a moan when he felt my pelvis hit his, being able to feel his growing bulge in his pants.

I took his hands and slowly raised them up my body until I left them on my shoulders hugging them, instead I lowered mine and tucked them under his jacket and t-shirt, feeling their quality leather. I slowly went up and down my hands all over his torso, squeezing his skin on my hands, feeling like Eddie let out small gasps in the kiss.

After a hot session of kissing and touching as a result of an intense declaration of my love for him, we were lying on my bed, staring intently at each other without saying anything, too busy keeping every detail about each other to talk. “Edward” I call him in a whisper, getting a “hum?” on his part “this isn't a dream, is it?” I asked him, “if this is a dream, I wish I would never wake up” and he answered.

Hello! This is the first fic that I will publish here on Tumblr, I don't know if I make it constant but if you like the way I write (which I doubt because I myself feel that it is quite bad, especially since it's not in my language)

I feel like the ending goes by very quickly, I'm sorry it's 1am and ik tired, and I'm also sorry for the very likely OOC! Edward, I'm not very good at capturing the essence of a character already created unless I created it hehrjee I'm sorry

Even with all that, I hope that if you finished it and it didn't bored you, you liked it and you can make any suggestions and/or corrections to me, I don't know if I'm taking request or something, but you can still send them to me and I'll see if I could do them:)

[bluemoonpunch]

Relationship Reading for Choi San and Jung Wooyoung - Tarot Reading

[This reading covers the relationship dynamic between Choi San and Jung Wooyoung on a subconscious and energetic level. This particular reading can cover romantic, platonic, and familial relationships and is designed to put a connection between two people into perspective, showcasing what is gained from the relationship and what the highest potential of the connection is. I used The Linestrider’s Journey Tarot for this reading. This spread is an original design by me. This reading lasted less than 1 hour.]

Reading Performed: July 4, 2024

Posted: July 13, 2024

Back in November/December of 2023, I had random hyperfixation on ATEEZ for a solid month or so — I heard Bouncy and it was all downhill from there. My dumb ass, as always, started reading in on their energy and there were some interesting things that came through the first time I watched the MV for Bouncy, and came to find out, I did readings on a couple of the members back in 2018 and some of that same energy was coming through. It was really interesting because I recognized it, saw it so clearly, and then found out I wrote about the exact same imagery years ago. That led to me SPIRALING and basically breaking down the entire group's current state, purpose, past lives, bla bla bla, the whole thing. Like, I was going to write a 50-page report on all of it because it was genuinely fascinating what was coming through and how it was seemingly showing up in their personal development and work now.

Depression and physical health issues hit, so I never did write anything, but I saw some really, really, really interesting stuff for San and Wooyoung that suggests an isolated lifetime centered on healing and protection that stems from issues that arose in a past life where Wooyoung would have been on his own due to necessary soul development that was needed in order to occupy the same space as San on a higher level. Quite literally, it looked like they were just casually fucking around on Earth for centuries, popped out, and realized they couldn’t go where they wanted to go together without Wooyoung’s soul experiencing more development, so they threw him back in on his own in a hyper-compressed incarnation cycle and things just didn't go well.

That lifetime, which was actually an incarnation cycle of three lifetimes back to back, ended up being quite negative and left “scars” on the souls of everyone involved. I really could write a whole other thing about all of this, I have a ridiculous amount of notes on it because out of everyone, they have the most interestingly deep soul connection I have ever seen out of all the readings I have ever done. Like, they are literally here to do nothing else but heal Wooyoung’s soul and balance energy — balancing energy and healing seems to be the group’s collective “purpose,” although they seem to have given themselves this purpose. They are not, as I’ve seen it, “on the roster,” but are to be influential, especially as individuals.

For San and Wooyoung, when I first watched the video I was like, oh they definitely have some vibes together, don’t they? And then I found out that San is a Cancer and Wooyoung is a Sagittarius. I have, FOR YEARSSSS, wanted to analyze a pair made up of a Cancer and Sagittarius because I’ve always found their reflective energies together to be so interesting. You have Cancer, Cardinal Water, Firery Water, boiling water, a spewing geyser, and Sagittarius, Mutable Fire, Watery Fire, flowing fire, an erupting volcano. They’re quite literally the SAME energies, visually they line up, they just erupt from different spaces. Fire and Water are the most difficult elements to balance, but Cancer and Sagittarius have an inherent balance within them between Water and Fire, although it can make them a bit temperamental and sensitive.

To me, it always felt like a Cancer and Sagittarius would simply have to hate each other until there was just one split second where they both happened to “erupt” at the same time, express something from within at the same time, and suddenly they’re like, “oh, you’re me, i’m you” and then it’s just best friends forever. And that’s basically what I saw between them when looking at their energetic connections now within this lifetime.

For the sake of not getting too wild off the bat, I will just focus on what came through in this reading alone, but if anyone is interested, I will GLADLY unload all of what I have for ATEEZ down the line.

Overall Energy

As expected, Healing and Regeneration are at the head of the overall energy between them. Healing and protection are extremely strong links for them that are rooted in the soul. So deeply rooted that this may feel more instinctual for them at this point than emotional or mental. Healing represents the energy, while Regeneration marks where and how that energy is being used. It gives me the sense of the souls re-expanding after experiencing a few downfalls, especially on Wooyoung’s side where, as I mentioned, he has acquired some pretty deep soul scars from past lifetimes.

Discovery (Mercury in Sagittarius) and the Lunar Eclipse both give this incredible sense of conscious level expansion to match with the expansion of their souls. They could explore spiritual things together, or discuss personal philosophy with each other. This is very focused between the two of them and gives me the sense of them being able to holds a “birs’s eye view” when they ponder things together, as if their vision becomes clearer through the other, allowing them to understand themselves, each other, and the world much easier when they seek it out together.

The Queen of Cups at the end there grounds a lot of this energy into a more physical and conscious place, but still highlights the strong soul connection and suggests tightly woven emotional bonds as well. One of the keywords with this card is “devotion” which suits them well on all levels of connection.

Before we get to the main reading, I just want to point out how INSANE it is that the mirrored state of their souls showed up in this reading so clearly. I really do want to do a deepdive post on them at some point because everything that I’ve seen for them has honestly blown my mind, and their cards here just add to that.

San’s Projection: Ten of Wands (rev.) Wooyoung’s Projection: Ten of Swords (rev.)

This set marks the energy that San and Wooyoung individually project into their relationship with each other. This is purely an energetic projection and may not reflect emotional or mental connections. Here, San is projecting the reversed Ten of Wands while Wooyoung is projecting the reversed Ten of Swords. These are the “bad 10s” in tarot, both holding quite a lot of pain, frustration and even death in their upright positions. There may be a display here of conflict between the soul and the conscious level aspects as both of these cards essentially are in denial of themselves, but seemingly for the sake of each other.

Tens mark the end, and when reversed, that end is being denied or something isn’t being brought to completion. On San’s end, the focus is on Wands, Fire, energy, and matters of the body, while Wooyoung’s focuses on Swords, Air, thoughts and communication, and matters of the mind. It displays a set dynamic where San is the body and Wooyoung is the mind, which is somewhat similar to what I saw of their souls in a state before they started incarnating on Earth. On a conscious and physical level, this settles more as physical and mental burdens they both share partially being withheld from the other.

Essentially, it’s like the reversed state of these cards came by two hands. For example, if San is feeling physically unwell he may hide it from Wooyoung to not worry him, but Wooyoung may also be someone he wants to be around when he’s not feeling well. Therefore there could be a kind of secret nurturing where sometimes they have to ask each other or very directly express their negative states to each other, and other times they can care for each other without much talking at all. So, in some aspects, they reverse their own cards, and in others, they reverse each other. Either way, they will never get to a breaking point, they will never hit a physical or mental “rock bottom” so long as they have the other to balance them.

To explain the cards more, the Ten of Wands, when upright, traditionally features someone carrying a lot of sticks (Wands/Fire/Energy) towards a destination that is quite far away in the background of the image. In the Rider-Waite deck, the man in the image is shown to really be struggling, hunched over with his face buried in the sticks as he tries to keep hold of them. In the image in this deck, it’s shown as a young girl who has collapsed on the ground with a bag of sticks on her back as she stares at her destination in the background.

It’s physical overwhelm or overexertion that puts a lot of strain on the body. This card can have a positive side to it as it can suggest that whatever overwhelming or strenuous situation you are in right now may come to an end soon, but when it is reversed, it’s more so allowing yourself to drop those sticks and take a breather. This can be positive as you can catch your breath and regain some energy, but in other situations, reversals here could line up with someone giving up just before they’re about to hit their finish line.

For San, I really feel this in a literal way where there is overexertion on the body, or a tendency to overdo physical activity, especially in a stressed state, and either for Wooyoung’s sake, or with the help of Wooyoung, he pulls that energy down, grounds himself, and sort of tempers his own Fire. It’s making me think of someone who would work out quite hard for hours, and then finish up with a grounding meditation. I will say that San’s soul, where it stems from, is a very high place, his energy is very high frequency and with that, it can be quite hard to hold that energy in the body. A lot of movement or bodily focus is necessary for him to stay grounded, so this may be connected to that as well.

The Ten of Swords, when upright, traditionally shows a man lying dead on a shoreline with ten swords in his back. In the background, we can see the sky either clearing or gathering in a storm, and the sun either rising or setting in the background. As Swords relate to Air energy, thoughts and communication, logic, and harsh reality, the Ten of Swords marks an undeniable end, one you can’t alleviate or run from. This can have a lot to do with anxiety and depression, as well as negative self-image if you can imagine the swords as your own thoughts and the body as yourself.

As I’ve seen in past explorations with them, both in past lives (and out-of-body lives) and the current lifetime, Wooyoung seems to have quite a bit of mental weight to him, but it’s not necessarily observational, as in it’s not so much that he’s thinking a lot, it’s like he takes in a lot of what is around him, what he hears, what he sees, and he holds onto it. The image of the Ten of Swords here in this deck is more so accurate to what I feel for Wooyoung.

In the image, a deer (I think) is shown to have been shot by many arrows and is twisted in pain. Those arrows could be equated to the words and actions of other people that Wooyoung carries with him. This can reflect his soul state with the soul scarring, as well as his current state where there does seem to be some sensitivity and maybe some personal insecurity to him.

They hide from each other a little bit, they hide this stress from each other, but at the same time it’s kind of impossible to do such a thing when they are so closely linked that you could argue they may be able to read each other's minds. They hide these states from each other, but at the same time, they each help the other to maintain and balance these quite heavy energies and keep them from ever reaching a true breaking point.

How San Sees Wooyoung: Nine of Cups + Ace of Cups How Wooyoung Sees San: Ace of Pentacles + Nine of Pentacles

This was the most insane part of the reading for me. The mirrored Tens already had me like O.O, and then this shit came out and I was like, what the fuck am I even supposed to do with this??

This set covers how, based on the current state and their projections, they see each other within their relationship. San sees Wooyoung as the Nine of Cups and the Ace of Cups, while Wooyoung sees San as the Nine of Pentacles and Ace of Pentacles. I find it interesting that while they are “hiding” their Tens from each other, they actively acknowledge and seem to praise each other at their peaks with these Nines. What’s even more fun is that in these suits, Cups and Pentacles, the Tens are some of the most positive cards in the deck, and with these Aces here, it almost feels like they look at each other as if they have the ingredients to make the Ten of Pentacles and the Ten of Cups — Ace (1) + Nine.

Here, they also seem to really acknowledge each other as a counterpart, someone they balance with, or someone who has what they are missing. Wooyoung, who may experience a bit more emotional and mental turmoil, looks to San as this space of stability and support, a strong foundation based in Earth energy with the Pentacles. There’s an admiration through the Nine of Pentacles for how independent he is and how well he is able to accomplish what he sets out to do. San, who seems to be a bit more physically oriented for the sake of staying grounded, sees Wooyoung as this flowing energy, seeing him as having more Water to him. A strong, open sensitivity that he finds fulfilling and relaxing. There’s an appreciation here for creativity and fluidity as well.

My favorite thing about this, is that as they acknowledge each other as counterparts through these energies, they are essentially blending Earth and Water energy. Similar to Water and Fire, Water and Earth can be a bit tricky to mix as you can destabilize Earth with Water, or dry out and absorb Water with Earth. In its perfect balance, however, as it is displayed here with these mirrored energies, Water and Earth come together to create clay. Something, energy, that can be shaped and molded at will into anything. Combining that with an element of balance between Divine Masculine energy on San’s side and Divine Feminine energy on Wooyoung’s side, you basically have two people who, when working together, are a magic wand away from being The Magician, a master manifestor.

In other words, anything they create together or work on together where they can focus on each other could be considered magic in the sense that they would have quite a lot of ease in bringing their visions to life while working together.

Current State of The Relationship: The Lovers Highest Potential: Ten of Pentacles

Here, The Lovers came out to represent the current state of their relationship, while the Ten of Pentacles popped out to showcase the highest potential of their relationship going forward. I put them together because what it looks like to me is that the Lovers represent the soul connection while the Ten of Pentacles represent that soul connection being completely integrated into the physical and conscious levels. They’re already there pretty much, perhaps that’s the significance of the Nines and Aces combos, but this suggests that they’re supposed to get to that higher state and integrate more of those higher aspects.

In one of the many readings I did for them, I did see, especially for San as his soul is quite BIG energetically speaking, that there were multiple stages of soul integration that he would experience in this lifetime that would be marked by alterations of the body — found out a bit later that he did bulk up quite a bit over the last few years, so I assume, especially when it comes to the need to ground into the physical through the actual body, that this is reflective of that. Wooyoung doesn’t have as much to integrate, but his soul is still occupying a much higher state than he is right now on a conscious level. The integration for Wooyoung may be noticeable in drastic changes regarding self-perception, self-esteem, and how he operates or expresses himself artistically.

As this entire lifetime is very self-focused (focused on each other) for the two of them, specifically in the realm of healing Wooyoung and progressing his soul a bit more so that he can join San out of body on a more well-matched level, it makes sense that potentially the Ten of Pentacles here marks, in its entirety, the completion of this lifetime with all that they set out to do being accomplished. The current state of The Lovers implies personal alignment, but in this context, reflects their deep soul unity and recognition of each other as soul counterparts (the term "soulmate" doesn’t quite capture how significant this connection actually is).

The Lovers, on a soul level, based on the traditional Rider-Waite image, showcases personal inner alignment of the layers of consciousness — conscious, subconscious, unconscious — through the images of Adam, Eve, and the Angel Raphael. Adam represents the conscious mind that looks to Eve, the receptive, intuitive subconscious, who looks to the Higher Self, the higher unconscious mind represented by the Angel.

In addition to that, Adam and Eve stand in as representatives of the Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine as Eve, the force of Life, stands in front of a flourishing tree and Adam, the force of destruction or deconstruction, stands in front of a burning tree. When they are in balance, Life and Death dance happily, but if Adam looks away from Eve, if the Divine Masculine loses sight of the Divine Feminine, it loses connection to its own soul, stagnates, and becomes destructive toward the surrounding environment. If Eve disconnects from either side, she can become destructive toward herself.

The Lovers card in this deck here shows San and Wooyoung as these counterparts, Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine, being in perfect sync with each other, implying that within themselves they hold that personal alignment, and are able to meet each other on all levels. This is what makes soul integration possible for them and is what is fueling the soul healing that Wooyoung is experiencing in this lifetime.

*More readings at bluemoonpunch.com!

[circular-bircular]

Hi, sorry this is a big ask but what are your thoughts on this article?

https://powertotheplurals.com/why-the-theory-of-structural-dissociation-is-ableist/

We don't know enough to go through and say exactly that it's wrong but something feels wrong? Like that's not our experience being treated by someone who believes in the theory of structural dissociation.

Also this article was introduced to me as the argument against sysmeds but the theory of structural dissociation has grown since its creation and I can name two people who came up with theories that are the basis of modern psychiatry who should never practice.

Again though we don't really know enough to say any of that for certain and I hope we don't look silly.

Alright, let's start clearing out my drafts and inbox with this lovely ask!

I have been sitting on this ask for eons. I got it, wanted to work on it but died during the school year by way of teaching being hell, and then promptly forgot it existed. However, a thousand and one people have broken this article down for the sheer absurdity of how bad it is. Like, it's really bad.

This article is 1000% just fearmongering bullshit to steer people away from a very, very valuable theory. Anon, you do not need to feel the need to sway your opinions on the ToSD -- first and foremost, above all else, you determine what helps you the most and what theories benefit your system. Not anyone else's sayings.

But let's dig into it, shall we?

We start off with a huge image of a video about Otto Van Der Hart, author of The Haunted Self and a very instrumental psychologist in the understanding of DID. This is immediately followed by the following statement:

The above video was recently released after one of the authors of Structural Dissociation lost his license for life and can never practice again.

[VERY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]

He's not one of the authors of Structural Dissociation. He's one of the authors of The Haunted Self. He did not invent the theory; the Theory of Structural Dissociation was not the invention of The Haunted Self. The ToSD was the invention of many, many, many people working together to understand pieces of dissociation, and Van Der Hart, alongside Kathy Steele and Ellert R Nijenhuis, created The Haunted Self to publish a focused overview of everything related to it. To call him "one of the authors of the theory" is really discounting the fact that this theory is far more wide-reaching than just The Haunted Self.

But that's me being a little nitpicky.

Me being VERY nitpicky is their linked article immediately after this statement with the falsehood about how Final Fusion only works 12.8% of the time. This has been thoroughly debunked. Here's an example of a debunk! I'm incredibly frustrated to not even be able to get to the bulk of the article, simply because they're so insistent on plugging their own misinformation.

Then a link about Otto Van Der Hart losing his license... Then another link about it... Why is this necessary for "The ToSD is ableist"? Seems like you meant "Otto Van Der Hart is ableist" and your editors just got confused by the 4 letter word. Let's see, one last PTTP link... Okay, article time!

Anyone who has watched a DID youtube video, or read a few posts in a support group, has seen it pass by: The theory of Structural dissociation, written by Ellert Neijenhuis, Onno van der Hart, Suzette Boon and Kathy Steele. 

Very confused why you keep saying the ToSD was written by these people, but you continue on to acknowledge that the ToSD was not written solely by these individuals. This article feels disjointed as fuck and there's only actually been like... two paragraphs! How did you manage that?

It’s good to know that in 1987, the writers of this theory already referred to us as parts, not personalities or alters, as the common terms were back then. Now, you might think this was progressive, ahead of its time — but was it really? 

Yes. It was. As someone who is relieved to be seen as a part of a whole, rather than a distinct personality who is wildly out of control, I'm thrilled to see parts language in my history.

It was actually, psychologist and psychiatrist Charles Samual Myers, who in 1916 wrote about Apparently Normal Part (ANP) and Emotional Part (EP) after acute trauma in WW1. So it is fair to say that the theory of Structural dissociation borrowed these terms, not introduced them, as is readable in the haunted self. (page 4)

Yep. So why were you so insistent for so long that the authors of the Haunted Self "created" the theory when... you're literally acknowledging some of the history of the theory here?

Let's see... you then acknowledge another author who should also be credited as helping to create the ToSD, once again contradicting the start of your article...

It is also good to realize that the theory of Structural dissociation is neither about DID, nor is it about alters, as many of us Plurals know them. They speak of ‘dissociative parts of the personality���, caused by trauma. Nota bene, not early childhood trauma, trauma in general. As this theory of structural dissociation also explains single trauma, repeated trauma in adulthood and (early) childhood trauma. It is used to describe changes that are diagnosed as (c)PTSD, trauma related borderline personality disorder, DID and more.

Yeah, this part is true! The ToSD is not only about DID, or childhood trauma, or even repeated trauma. It's... about structural dissociation. It's in the name. Not sure why so many people are so confused about that.

As you can see in this image, all types of Structural dissociation have EP and ANP elements which Myers talked about.  In other words, the theory puts forward that all traumatized people have ‘dissociative parts of the personality’ as this is just the collective name for the EP and ANP. Thus, plurality does not just happen in DID, as many people with DID like to claim.

The theory of structural dissociation is not about plurality. You said it yourself that it is neither about DID nor about alters. It is about trauma causing dissociative parts of identity. All traumatized people have dissociative parts of identity, but that does not mean that all traumatized people are plural. Because that's what you're poking at by listing that as plurality.

These dissociative parts of identity are not necessarily fully formed parts. From every single person I've met with PTSD, their ANP/EP structure is nothing like mine -- not just in the fact that I've got more of that sort of thing, but in the fact that their ANP and EP don't have goddamn names. Their parts of self are not full identities that take over the body; they're states of mind.

Now, does that preclude someone from calling that plurality? No. People can call anything plural, if they feel that label fits. But to suggest, looking at these charts, that it is universally plurality -- that the existence of ANP/EPs is plural inherently -- is jumping the shark to the largest degree.

(Lastly, as a syscourse side note -- please stop conflating DID with Anti-Endo in your posts. "Many people with DID like to claim" just say anti-endos. Just say sysmeds, for fucks sake, I would prefer that to you making it about DID)

From which we can conclude that OSDD, complex PTSD, borderline personality disorder or extreme stress may also have alters as we Plurals know them, or at least as the ‘dissociative parts of the personality’, which this theory of structural dissociation calls us. – From a Plural perspective, I do not understand the differences, besides being integrated less in DID (or tertiary Structural dissociation) compared to more integrative capacity in secondary Structural dissociation of the personality. 

"I don't understand the differences, besides (lists the vital difference to why DID is called dissociative identity disorder)"

Also, not a single person was arguing that OSDD does not have alters. That is baffling to me why you included that on the list. Furthermore, yes, these could be plural -- but they are not alters similar to DID. There is a major difference there, in that in DID, the alters are fully developed identities, whereas in most cases of PTSD and borderline personality disorder, they aren't. But I will give you credit here -- this time, you said "MAY" also have alters. And yes, I would give you that credit -- some people with borderline personality disorder may see their splits as plural in some way.

But I have found, through talking to people with various trauma based disorders, that often, my alters are very different from their whatever they are experiencing. Because, once again, I am far more distinct. I've actually spoken once to a friend of mine with PTSD and OCD on this topic, because (due to her OCD), after meeting me, she believed she might be plural. It wasn't the case, but her states of being were distinct enough that she felt that way, however briefly. And then she stopped identifying that way, as it was harming her mentally to do so. While that is not the case for every individual who feels plural, it was the case for her. I don't want to look at PTSD and say, "This makes someone inherently plural," because it doesn't.

So, simply put, the ToSD is not about plurality. It is about dissociation of a single personality; not about multiple personalities. While the other disorders listed in the theory can be plural, they are not inherently so. (And this still has not explained why the author believes the ToSD to be ableist).

If DID is not Plurality, then why have such a thing as a DID diagnosis? What is the difference then between complex PTSD and DID, if not the Plurality? – More on this topic next time!

I've deliberated on this point for awhile (and I do NOT care to try to hunt down if PttP made good on their promise and made another article about this idea). I actually tried to discuss it in a server I'm in, which went a bit in a loop due to "plurality" being inherently seen as endogenic plurality (maybe I'll make a post about that sometime).

But leave it to my singlet partner to knock it out of the park, lol.

They brought up the fact that they have spiraling depression; depression that is worsened by other disorders they have, such as ADHD and anxiety. It just loops around continuously. Now, they could have a hypothetical diagnosis (just like C-PTSD would be, as that's not an actual diagnosis that exists) of "Spiraling Depression." But would that diagnosis be as informative as their multiple diagnosis of depression, anxiety, and ADHD?

By having the specific diagnosis they have, they're able to get more clarity on symptoms and understanding of what's happening. And I think that's a compelling argument for DID over C-PTSD in this case. Because, PttP, like it or not, plurality is disordered for many individuals. Even if the symptoms of DID and C-PTSD do overlap in many ways (and differ -- for instance, C-PTSD has far less correlation with dissociation and amnesia, and DID has far less correlation with emotional regulation problems and flashbacks to trauma), they overlap in such a way that it is important to be specific.

And yes, DID is specific in the fact that alters are part of it. No, DID is clearly not just plurality with C-PTSD, as you argue. There's a lot of different factors that differentiate the two disorders. But even with the large amount of overlap they can have (to the degree that the two are so highly comorbid that I see people argue you can't have DID without the other), the plurality is disabling for many individuals. And I say this as an individual who is not disabled by their plurality, and yet is diagnosed with DID.

The reason there's such a thing as a DID diagnosis is because having multiple, dissociative identities is disordered for many individuals. For me, I am disordered by my DID in the fact that I deal with severe amnesia that distresses me, as well as issues that correspond to C-PTSD. The treatment may be similar -- but if I were simply diagnosed with C-PTSD, I would not get the specific care I need, that being an assurance that my individual parts get the help they need. Which you, PttP, rally against later in this article (at the Systematic Approach to Dissociation section).

The haunted self states that Structural dissociation has become chronic in those patients with trauma-related disorders. (page 12.) Which, first and foremost, means that Structural dissociation is not a (trauma-related) disorder on it’s own, as some people claim these days. 

Accurate. It's a symptom, not a disorder. I believe what PttP is getting at here is the claim that dissociation is only a symptom of dissociative disorders; however, that's now what that sentence actually says, and it's incredibly frustrating to see this pair of sentences to try and make that claim. "The Haunted Self says that structural dissociation is chronic in patients with trauma-related disorders. This means that structural dissociation isn't a trauma-related disorder." Okay, yes, but that does not negate that it is talking about disorders, not plurality.

However, I point this quote out for a different reason. The theory of Structural dissociation idolizes integration. And although they say that ‘’no one has to go away’’, they also clearly explain to therapists, to not engage with us ‘dissociative parts of the personality,’ unless absolutely needed. Instead it is suggested that the therapist speaks whenever possible, through the ANP fronting. We the Plurals, then have the most integrative capacity, which basically means we can integrate the experience best. Which should be encouraged by the therapist at all times. I can understand how it is useful that ‘everyone’ listens in during therapy. But this should not be the case when we express ourselves!

And here we get to the bulk of the picture; PttP's hatred of anyone who so much as dares consider final fusion as an option for recovery.

First, let's correct a major misconception that I have had to correct timelessly in my time on systumblr. Integration is not final fusion. Integration is the lowering of dissociative barriers in order to communicate and function with your system as one whole; this could be through working together (functional multiplicity) or through fusing into one being (final fusion). And, as a few users in sysumblr have pointed out recently, these two things are not diametrically opposed. There's no hard and fast line between FM and FF. They're both just signs of recovery, and any recovery is beautiful. To shame anyone for going a specific route that makes them feel better is shameful in of itself, imo.

Second, let's tackle the image that PttP provides and show you why their quotes-out-of-context are complete bullshit.

"ALL interventions need to be geared toward increasing integration and decreasing dissociation" -- All treatment needs to be geared at helping alters connect with each other and decreasing memory barriers.

"Always use interventions at the highest level of integration possible, e.g., if the client can work with all parts, it is not necessary to work with parts individually" -- I can communicate with all of my parts. My therapist does not need to explain to each of my 14 parts the same exact thing each time they show up; he can work with me one week, and the next week, Curtis will remember what we discussed and can continue without my therapist needing to explain what we did last week -- I just make sure that Curtis is on the same page as me before that session.

"Use integrative language. 'Parts' language is OK, but emphasize 'Parts of you.' Parts should not be treated as individuals -- An individual as in someone who is not sharing a body. An individual as in someone who is a separate body not sharing it with 13 other people ffs. By focusing entirely on "You're an entirely different person," then it's going to be really hard to convince a patient in the throes of flashback, "I know YOU didn't experience that particular trauma, but that other person did, so now it's your problem to deal with" without reminding them that you are together in this one body. (Furthermore... This just straight up isn't as common in modern therapy, at least from what I've seen and experienced. I had to CONVINCE my therapist to stop fucking calling my parts "people" because it made me angry to be stuck in this body. Now I use parts language, and I'm not stuck in this body, I AM this body).

Lastly, I want to highlight: "Always be curious about what a part is unable to realize: this is the treatment target" -- this, to me, is so vital, and I feel like PttP skips over it. This is connected to the "highest part of integration" point; if a part isn't at the highest part of integration. If a part cannot realize something, it is up to the therapist to help them treat that. For instance, I just worked on EMDR yesterday with my therapist on realizing I am capable. Shockingly, about two EMDR sessions ago, Curtis did that same realization -- but as a part, I couldn't realize that myself. So my therapist had to work with me, as a part, directly.

So, to recap: this is all fairly standard, healthy guidelines for working with systems. Don't pit the parts against each other by implying they're all completely separate, work on communication and lowering barriers, and don't repeat yourself when you don't have to.

How's PttP feel about this?

"And although they say that ‘’no one has to go away’’, they also clearly explain to therapists, to not engage with us ‘dissociative parts of the personality,’ unless absolutely needed." Nope. I don't see that anywhere above. "Instead it is suggested that the therapist speaks whenever possible, through the ANP fronting." Also incorrect; nowhere in the above picture does it suggest that the therapist speak through the fronting ANP. That would certainly make my therapy difficult, given that we don't even have clear ANPs; my therapist just works with whoever is out. "We the Plurals, then have the most integrative capacity, which basically means we can integrate the experience best. Which should be encouraged by the therapist at all times. I can understand how it is useful that ‘everyone’ listens in during therapy. But this should not be the case when we express ourselves!" Wow, it sounds like whoever wrote this article feels very separated from their other parts. It sounds like the therapist will need to work at the highest level of integration possible, which is really low for your system. Your therapist would need to work with individual parts far more than mine would, because you don't have a high level of integration currently. Nowhere does it ever suggest that your ANPs need to be out for therapy. That's your jaded and biased view of a completely neutral statement.

To me, it sounds as if they want to make us all like OSDD, where one part regularly fronts and others speak through them. And although I think there is a dissociative spectrum, I do not think that changing the diagnostic criteria we meet from the diagnosis of DID to OSDD will lead to ‘healing.’ And in DID, in particular, requiring all communications to relay through one particular (perhaps malleable or favored) ‘alter’ that sounds a lot like silencing to me. Because the therapist (or any other outside person,) can never know (for sure) whether the part who is presenting, is truly conveying all information which is coming from inside. This book talks a lot about shame, but forgets that our ANPs might not feel comfortable repeating what those EPs just said inside, and that the information may be so overwhelming for them as to cause them to have intense dissociative symptoms. Half-truths might reach the therapist.

"They want to make us all like OSDD" -- not a thing. Stop fearmongering.

"Changing the diagnostic criteria we meet from the diagnosis of DID to OSDD" -- Part of the reason I am all for getting rid of both of those diagnosis and just changing it to CDD, so that people can't make this absolutely batshit argument.

"Relay through one particular (perhaps malleable or favored" alter" -- Already reviewed this, but jesus christ I hate that you just called them malleable. That is so horrifically ableist, to suggest that the fucking therapists -- people who are helping systems -- are just trying to manipulate an alter. Fuck that.

"The therapist can never know for sure whether the part who is presenting is truly conveying all information which is coming from inside" -- =_=.... "Hey, Wade, good to see you! So, what do you remember from last week?" "Wow, hey therapist, I am going to tell you the honest truth, I remember exactly jack shit." "Alright, so let's review-" It's as simple as that PttP. When we aren't able to communicate, we just... review. And if I decided to not be honest with my therapist... well that's just a fucking waste of three hours (two for driving, one for session) and money (gas and session cost).

The final few sentences is running with their misinterpretation of what the image was actually saying, so I'm not going to harp on that any longer.

The writers of this theory of structural dissociation explain dissociation as experiencing separation in simple terms and in more difficult terms use the meaning of the term dissociation, formulated by Pierre Janet (1859–1947), ‘’Structural dissociation is a particular organization in which different psychobiological subsystems of the personality are unduly rigid and closed to each other. These features lead to a lack of coherence and coordination within the survivor’s personality as a whole.’’ (Preface Haunted self) 

To translate that, for the layman: Structural dissociation is when parts of the personality are separate from each other, leading to a lack of consistency in a person's being. This can be represented as plurality (such as in CDDs) or as just inconsistent singular personality (such as in PTSD).

They explain integration as ice cubes melting and the water coming together, or dams breaking and water coming together. Which to them equals no one goes away. Everyone is still there, it’s just one body of water now.

Because they're singlets who don't get it. Rather than being a bitch about it, we could... explain in better terms, which so many fucking people have done. For instance, I use the puzzle piece metaphor for ourselves. We are each one puzzle piece; when we come together, you can still see the lines that show I'm a piece of the puzzle, but we are now together. But even if we use their metaphor... Nobody went away. The ice cube melted, but that doesn't mean you suddenly have less water. You're still there. Just together. By phrasing it as "going away" when fusion happens, you're purposefully fearmongering what actually happens in fusion; it's coming together, not someone going away.

To me, it sounds more like soup, because not everyone in a system is the same, like with water. So you throw in your EPs and ANPs (and those are very limited terms for our diversity!) and then you have a soup. Although soup is great, it is not the same as the loose ingredients. A potatoe is a potatoe. A carrot is a carrot. But potatoe-carrot soup is something new and different. You cannot remove the potatoe from the soup, it is no longer a whole potatoe. And potatoe-carrot soup cannot do the same things the original potatoes and carrots could do.

.... I will not lie, this confused the fuck out of me. Is this another analogy for integration? Very confused. Have fun though.

We know from a 6 year follow up study that only 12.8% of participants were able to reach integration as described in the theory of Structural dissociation. (page 4) That is a very low percentage. In any scientific research for medicine or therapy for example, a 12.8% positive outcome would not be tolerable. Yet the whole theory of treatment within Structural dissociation is based on it.

Once again, this was debunked (same link as above). Also, the ToSD isn't fucking based on fusion. It's based on structural dissociation. Yknow. As it says in the name. The therapeutic treatment is based on integrating past dissociation. Yknow. Integration. Not fusion.

A chronic disorder, often debilitating, with a much-respected and idolized healing option with only 12.8% success rate, sounds ableist to me

... how? Genuinely, how is it ableist? Ableism is discrimination against disabled people. How is... How is trying to help people with a disorder discrimination?

Favoring OSDD over DID comes from singular normative biased thinking

This just straight up isn't happening, you just read something in the worst faith possible and pissed on the poor because of it.

The haunted self has a chapter dedicated to phobia of dissociative parts. Maybe the writers, should re-read the chapter and apply it to their own way of thinking.

Oof ouch the edge. Anyways, now I want to read that chapter, I'm curious if they go into the shame around splitting in DID.

It also sounds to me, as if clinicians say something else to our face, then what they write in their books. Especially when it comes to alter integration or final fusion as Kluft calls it.

Integration and Fusion are not the same thing, and a clinician in 2019 (when this article was written) may not match the novel that was published in 2006, based on psychology from as early as 1916. It's almost like shit progresses and time keeps moving! Remarkable I know.

Although I do not think personalities is the right term for us, nor is the word parts. It is derogatory, dehumanizing & it is taking away from our autonomy, roles and authenticity as individuals.

[Stares in "I have never felt more alive, authentic, and real than when I was referred to as a part of a whole"]

[Stares in "I use it/its pronouns and this individual probably hates that huh, if they're so against dehumanization"]

[Stares in "Just tell your fucking therapist what goddamn language you prefer, because I had to do that too, you aren't fucking special"]

Anyways. Parts language is not universally derogatory, dehumanizing, or taking away your individuality. For me, it has been incredibly healing. Furthermore, it is genuinely what is happening from a medical standpoint. From a medical standpoint, splits in DID are occurring due to, you guessed it, trauma. You don't suddenly just... get possessed or mitosis a new person in your brain who is entirely separate from you. The parts of you are parts of you, regardless of how you label them, because you are composed in one body. If we get into possession and endogenesis, then remarkably, the ToSD does not apply, because the ToSD is strictly about structural dissociation. Not plurality.

And so I often wonder whether the alter integration they desire, equals just not being Plural anymore in the minds of the writers of Structural dissociation. If it does, it makes sense to diminish us to parts. And it also makes sense to claim “no one has to go away”, if they never believed we are separated in the first place. After all, it is the ‘experience of separation’, not actual separation, as they say, we did not split off. So was using the term ‘parts’ in 1987 progressive, or a step to further diminish, gaslight and silence us?

If you wonder about this often, you need to step the fuck away from system spaces and touch some grass.

Integration is not fusion, I cannot stress this enough.

Fusion does not equal no longer being plural; ask any fused system (or hell, just a fused part) and they will tell you, flat out, "I'm still us, just different." If someone no longer wants to identify as plural due to fusion, is that not their choice? Why would you care about someone else's experience that much?

Being parts is not diminishing anything, as someone who uses parts language.

If we are multiple parts, and the ToSD acknowledges us as multiple parts, then clearly the ToSD acknowledges we are separate. The goal of the theraputical practices that revolve around the ToSD is to help lessen the separation between parts. Not remove us entirely. Still not sure where you got that idea from, other than your fearmongering about Fusion.

Using parts language was literally just people looking at MPD systems and going, "Huh... you know, maybe that is a single person and not multiple people crammed into one body. Maybe that is just a severely traumatized individual, and we should treat them as a person, same as anyone else."

Or maybe they were all high on cocaine. That's possible too.

Here is my problem with how the DID community treats this theory. From the community feedback it seems that many of you do not want integration, as explained in this theory. And you cannot cherry-pick the sweet parts, when it comes to theories like this. Especially not when integration is so interwoven with this theory. The theory of Structural dissociation is often presented as truth in our communities, even though this theory is not widely accepted, not acknowledged, not proven (or provable) and hence just a theory like any other  – there are many theories about DID. 

Obligatory "integration and fusion are not the same." Furthermore, this idea is based on community feedback in 2019. I can't wait for 2029, when things will be completely different once again. Lastly, the theory is widely accepted. It is the most accepted theory of how dissociation works structurally that we have. While there are other theories about DID, I have not seen any of them that better describe my experiences or make as much sense. (And, unsurprisingly, you don't add any of those alternative theories here).

You also cannot say you like the application of this theory for DID, but not for borderline and vice versa. The theory comes as a package deal by explaining a progression of Structural dissociation. I think many people did not read all of the haunted self, as it’s long and dry. And even though most quotes from this article come from the first few pages, it is information many do not know. I read the book twice and followed a conference with its writers. I hope this article explains things, to those who endorse this theory without having actually read it. There are many more questionable things about this, but I cannot address them all.

This article only explained your personal vendetta against fusion and parts language, and your lack of ability to comprehend a percentage point. It did nothing to further the understanding of plurality, as the ToSD is not about plurality, and it didn't even explain why the ToSD is ableist. Nowhere have you explained how the ToSD itself is discriminating against disordered/disabled individuals. You just threw the word out, primarily while focusing on the therapeutic practices that utilize the ToSD. Even if we came to an agreement that the practices that utilize the theory are ableist, that does not make the theory itself ableist. Good grief.

Obviously it is not needed to throw away the baby with the bath water either, that is not what I am proposing. What I am proposing though, is that you take a second look at the theory you endorse and why.

I endorse it because it is the clearest understanding of structural dissociation I have found, and it helps me to conceptualize myself as multiple parts within one whole. If that doesn't work for you, congrats, the theory doth not apply. You can find therapists who don't agree with it and who will work with you directly without the ToSD.

But to say it is ableist because it doesn't fit your particular framework is prideful at best and fearmongering at worst.

Because if you just like the part about how we are not split off, but born with different self-states you can quote Putnam. And if you like the idea of PTSD consisting of EPs and ANPs, you can quote Myers. And if you like fusion integration, you can quote theory of Structural dissociation.

Nowhere in the theory of structural dissociation does it suggest you need to fuse. Nowhere in the Haunted Self does it suggest you need to fuse. Nowhere in modern therapeutic best practices does it suggest you need to fuse. You are simply trying to scare people, at this point.

That's... about it for the article. It is horrific from everything I was seeing, and I cannot even begin to process the lack of context. I think it's because, as Stronghold says in the comments, this article was based on a conference they attended. They attended a conference where people discussed the ToSD.

Would it not be better to say, then, that the conference is ableist?

But that wouldn't really draw in a big crowd, would it? Not as many clicks or views. Why not challenge the entire theory? That would get a lot more views. A lot more clicks and attention. Isn't that the point of articles like these? To be seen and viewed?

I implore everyone to remember that this was an opinion article. It is not based on fact; it is based on the authors own bias. This is Stronghold's personal feelings about the ToSD, based on their personal interpretation of the ToSD, based on their personal beliefs on fusion. They try to use quotes to back up their claims, but their claims are entirely based on opinion.

So, to counteract that: From my opinion, the ToSD is not ableist, and while ableists have used it in the past to hurt others, that does not make the theory itself bad. The theory is incredibly useful, and everyone who struggles with dissociation or trauma disorders should do a bit of research into it to see if the framework works for them.

FURTHER READING:

Syscurse posted this link to the System Speak podcast debunking this article. A good podcast overall!

Here's a PDF link to the Haunted Self. I never actually read the whole thing before, so I'm happy to have found a PDF online of it. Cannot vet if that's a good link or not, but I'm moving pretty fast now that this thing is around 5k words.

A debunk of this article from SysmedsareSexist, which, funny enough, I did not read before writing this big long post.

Hiiragi and SoaF's comments about parts language in the article, and a very good reminder that we should critique how science looks at disorders, and discuss potential ableist views -- I don't disagree with that at all. It IS possible that the reason parts language is used is meant in a dehumanizing manner -- but I also think it's good to dig into those ideas and figure out why we feel that way, and what evidence there actually is for it (rather than misinformation about fusion being used as a major basis for the argument).

And honestly, just make sure to look up information on therapeutic practices and the ToSD folks!

[congratsyoureanidiot]

(this gif is absolute shit my apologies. i had to get it from a youtube video😫 i will repost a more clear version of this)

chronically in love with you

emily sonnett x reader

this fic is loosely based off of my experience with pots and hyper mobile eds as an athlete. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it😌

reader’s pov

It was nearing the 48th minute when you felt it hit, you were having a flare up right in the middle of the semifinal. Sure, you’ve had plenty of flare ups during games and you’ve played through bad days, but this was your first time having it happen in such a critical game. You groan slightly as you start to feel lightheaded and dizzy, your heart rate starting to increase.

“Fuck”, you mutter to yourself. You know you kind of need a minute to adjust to what’s happening to your body and to breathe. You don’t want to go off, however, or feel the need to quite frankly. Every other time this has happened your team gladly adapts to the situation, wanting to help in anyway they can. Sometimes you would have to go off for a second, while other times you’d stay on and just take it easy for a bit, your teammates only passing to you when necessary until you were okay to continue again. They’ve always told you that they’d have your back, all you had to do was say what you needed and they’d act accordingly. You look over your left shoulder as you’re getting back into position and see the one person that you feel most comfortable and confident that will help you in this situation. The one person that specifically promised to you that she’d look after you.

“Sonny”, you find yourself murmuring, doubting that she heard you over the ambience of the game.

sonny’s pov

The two of you had been dating for just a few weeks, Sonnett finally having the courage to ask you out. She already knew about your health problems because you had openly told the team, but she didn’t really know the exact details until she started talking romantically with you. Even before then she had always kept a watchful eye out for you, not being able to help herself due to her ever growing feelings. She had always asked how you were feeling and if you needed anything and would always be the first to notice when something was even slightly off. She would ask about your health and wanted to learn about everything that you had, no matter how complex the condition or the name was. Anytime you’d be feeling slightly more symptomatic than usual, she’d be the first to talk to you about it. If she noticed any discomfort on your part, she’d be the first to put a comforting hand on you. If you started to feel faint, she’d be the first to put her arms around you to steady you and keep you from falling. She was just always there when you needed her, and this only got stronger when the two of you got together. She seemed to know when you were feeling poorly even before you did, she’d recognize your tells even before you had time to register what was happening within your body. She’d ask if you took your medication and would give it to you if you ever forgot. If you fainted she’d be the first one to rush to your side and hold you until you were conscious and able to get up again. If you dislocated your joints she’d always comfort you as you got them put back in. She was always just there and ready to do whatever you asked of her. That’s why when you called out to her, ask weak as it was, she heard you.

“Sonny”, she just barely heard you say. She knew by the sound of your voice that something wasn’t right. She snapped her head towards you, concern evident in her features.

reader’s pov

Your eyes widen in disbelief when you realize that she heard you. In fact, you’d be a grinning mess if you didn’t feel so badly.

“I don’t feel good”, you manage to say a bit louder than you had said her name. You take a deep breath and move your legs around as you see her make eye contact with you, trying to calm your heart rate and keep your blood from pooling in your legs.

sonny’s pov

Her heart drops a bit as she looks at you and sees weak eyes looking back, worry starting to course through her body. She nods at you slightly, fully processing what you’ve said.

“Okay”, she says gently, her nods getting bigger as she turns to get into position. She tries her best to be as nonchalant as possible as she gestures to the rest of the team to cover for you. She doesn’t want to get herself too worked up about the situation and cause herself to make mistakes due to being worried about you. She does her best to keep an eye out for you while continuing to do what she needs to do for the team. She finds herself going extra hard for the next few minutes, wanting to do everything in her power to do a good job covering for you and allowing you time to take a minute to manage your health. She’ll be damned if she fucks anything up when it comes to you. She ends up being able to walk next to you as the team resets for a goal kick.

“Are you okay baby?”, she asks as she puts a hand on your lower back. She takes a look at you, searching for any signs of discomfort from you.

“Yeah”, she hears you respond.

“You sure? It’s alright if you’re not babe…I want you to take care of yourself”, she finds herself rubbing your back ever so slightly.

“I’m okay now Em, I’ll let you know if it changes.”, you respond honestly to her.

“Okay baby. I’ll be watching out for you”, she pats you on the back gently before going to the spot she needs to be in.

The rest of the game she keeps an eye out for you just like she promised, constantly looking to you and nodding to you to wordlessly ask if you’re okay. She takes pride in watching you recover and play your heart out for the rest of the game, cheering you on and giving you encouragement when she can. Once the game is over she makes a beeline to you and gives you a hug.

“I’m so proud of you baby. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve felt off during a game, but just getting to watch you work through it and all…and it’s such an important game and…I’m sure you felt a lot of pressure and…it-it was just so badass to me…I don’t know. I’m just…I’m proud to call you mine…”, she kind of chuckles.

“Don’t…don’t listen to me…uh…I’m sure you still feel like crap, huh?”, she shakes her head at her rambling and pulls from the hug to look at you.

“Yeah, it’s not as bad as it got during the game, but yeah i feel like some shit”, you tell her honesty.

“What can I do for you? When we get back do you want me to hold you or give you a massage or something? I’ll do whatever you need baby, just tell me.”, her eyes widen a bit out of curiosity as she sees a smile forming on your face.

“What?”, she feels a smile creeping onto her face, just not being able to help herself. She watches as you shake your head and start to walk towards the locker room, still smiling.

“What?!”, she says now laughing as she watches you walk away.

Later on back at the hotel she does just as she promised and tends to you and your needs. She holds you and asks what was bothering you during the game and how you managed to work through it, wanting to know in case she needs to help you or give encouragement to you while you recover. She talks with you and comforts you until it lulls you to sleep. She just watches you sleep for a long while, not believing she gets you call you hers. She feels her heart swell at the thought of spending all of her days with you and building a future with you. Even though it’s only been a few weeks since the two of you started dating, she feels like everything has just fallen into place and couldn’t imagine her life without you by her side.

“I love you baby”, she whispers into your ear, hoping that her words make their way into your dreams. She kisses you on the head and turns out the light, holding you even tighter with a smile on her face as she drifts off to sleep.

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 12| There Is Rain

(Gif credit: @xo-tough-love-xo )

Sweat poured down my face as I finally finished my set of Bulgarian squats. Dropping the seventy pound dumbbells in each hand, I stood up and wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt. As I went to grab my water bottle, I caught Aiden’s stare.

“What bro? I did fifteen,” I said.

Waving me off, he said, “Question.”

The look on his face let me know that I would soon regret giving him the go ahead for his foolishness but I motioned for him to continue as I took a few sips of water.

“Been around any vampires lately?” he cracks, causing me to almost spit my water out.

“Bro, what is your problem?” I chuckle.

“Nothing, I’m just saying. Looking like you willingly offered yourself up. Whore,” Aiden said.

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped as we both busted out into laughter. I wasn’t someone who kissed and told but as I was rushing to get here on time, I didn’t realize there was evidence left behind. If I did, I would have worn a different shirt.

“Something like that,” I say. In a flash I see Mila on my bed spread before me, eyes wanton, chest flushed a vibrant hue of red.

There.

Here?

Yesss.

My reverie is interrupted by Aiden hitting me in the face with a balled up towel.

“Unnecessary,” I said, tossing it back, though he side steps being hit by it.

“Necessary as hell. You ain’t about to be reliving your lil sexcapade in front of me. We close but never will be that close,” Aiden said with a laugh, as he went over to pick up the weights for his turn. “Who is she.”

It no longer felt right to call Mila just my friend but it was hard to describe what we were becoming. If it were Rah asking me this question, I might have a better answer but since it was Aiden, I kept it simple. “Someone I care about,” I reply.

“One you don’t care about people, you be in love. Two, good, tired of you being sad and mopey. Three, you are a shit wingman so you better make her your girlfriend. You ain’t for the streets for real,” Aiden jokes, as he does his set without nearly the amount of struggle I did. 

“Man it’s not my fault you don’t have no game and you're right about that, I’m not for the streets. I want more than falling in and out of beds,” I said, with a shrug.

“Like I said, you be in love and ain’t nothing wrong with that. So what’s her name?” he asked.

“It’s Jamila and it’s too soon for the love word, so chill,” I replied. The last time I thought I was in love that turned out not to be the case.

“Look at you blushing and shit. Lying ass,” he chuckled, dropping the weights.

“Respect that I don’t want to give your nosey ass any details right now. Just know that she’s different,” I said.

“She better be. The last thing you need is another Mariah,” he said.

“Nah, I learned that lesson, trust me,” I said with a shake of my head. Being with Mila was like breathing with the full capacity of my lungs. I didn’t have to hesitate to be myself because everything I said mattered to her. It was a freedom that had been sorely missing from my life until now.

“Only took the rest of your twenties and eight months of walking around looking like an extra for a Jagged Edge video,” he said, causing me to snort.

“Dawg, I can’t fucking stand you sometimes,” I said, as laughter consumed us both.

This was the closest of a heart to heart we would have because Aiden didn’t do feelings. All he cared about was whether or not we were happy and how he could show up when we weren’t. That alone is why no matter how bad he got on my nerves I would always call him my best friend.

With most of my free time being split between watching over Granddad and hanging out with Mila, it had been almost a week since I had been by my parents house. After the hectic nature of the previous one, I needed some space. I think we all did as Veronica opted to spend last weekend at my apartment versus at home with our parents. She was a bit out of sorts after seeing our father collapse which was understandable. We had been having to face mortality a lot recently and she wasn’t even eighteen yet. When I walked in the house, I could hear her and her friends in the backyard most likely practicing tumbling. I’d give my greetings to them later and continue to let them have their fun undisturbed. Kicking my shoes off and placing them in the cubby in the foyer, I padded my way to the living room where I heard the TV on. Sitting in an armchair, looking like the spitting image of Granddad, was Pops.

“Hey Xay,” he greeted, as I walked over to him to slap hands. Like his father, he wasn’t overly affectionate to anyone other than my mother and sister. When I was ten, I came up with a handshake which became our thing. “Glad you stopped by. Your mother has me cooped up in here.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you. Doctor said you’ll be able to do light exercises next week though,” I said, as I took a seat on the couch.

“She’s feeding me rabbit food,” he deadpanned, causing me to chuckle at the exaggeration.”I might not make it that long.”

“Pops,” I said, shaking my head. “Too soon for death jokes.”

“Sorry but it’s how I feel. You know I don’t like being idle,” he said.

“You're not being idle, you’re recovering from a traumatic health event. I think that warrants some down time,” I said, for what had to be the twentieth time. There was something about getting older that made the adults in my life turn mulish in nature. They were less inclined to listen to reason and only wanted to do what they wanted while not taking account of the better options.

He nodded his head while picking up the remote. “You trying to watch this Yankee’s game with me?”

“Sure.”

I leaned back against the couch as he turned to the YES channel. While we watched the game, mom flittered back and forth, making sure Pops was taking his medication on schedule and bringing snacks. I was haphazardly picking pistachios out of my napkin of trail mix when Pops called my name.

“Yes sir,” I replied, looking over at him.

“We just struck out Boston’s best hitter and you didn’t have anything to say. What’s on your mind son?” Pops asked.

He was right. I couldn’t recall anything from this game because I had been trapped in my mind trying to figure out how I wanted to broach the subject of our relationship. However, like there would never be a perfect time, there weren’t going to be perfect words either.

“Honestly, I’m vacillating between being concerned about your well being and pissed about your lack of respect for me,” I said, sitting the napkin down on the coffee table.

“Well since your concern has been duly noted, let’s address the latter. What makes you think I don’t respect you?” Pops asked, as he sat up a bit straighter. A sign that he was actively listening to what I had to say.

Scrunching my face I said, “You did when you insinuated that I wanted to shirk my responsibilities to Granddad and tied that assumption to my character as a man.”

“Xay, I know dealing with Granddad isn’t easy but we are his family, and looking after another is what we do. A man looks after his family, come hell or high water, not passes those responsibilities over. I know you don’t have a family of your own yet but you would want your kids to do the same for you. Hell I want you to do the same for me if it ever comes to it and I’m not sure you will,” Pops said.

“What?” I said, with a raised brow. “How can you even say that shit to me with a straight face? I go above and beyond for this family.”

“Doing what is expected of you isn’t going above and beyond. It’s your duty,” Pops said.

“That’s semantics. Either way I show up, which is more than you can say.  I have a question for you, what’s the name of Granddad’s primary doctor? His neurologist? His physical therapist? Huh?” I asked.

“I don’t see-

“Yeah you don’t!” I said cutting him off. “You don’t see shit. You barely see how not easy it is dealing with your father, the man you supposed to take care of as the oldest of his children! So what kind of man that make you?”

Pop's face darkens with anger as he points a finger in my direction. “And who’s paying for those special doctors? Those medications? Not the V.A., I’ll tell you that. Who is paying the taxes on the house? The car? That’s the kind of man that makes me. I’m doing my part, I’m asking you to continue to do yours.”

“It’s easy to do your part when all it consists of is writing a check. You not getting cursed at and beat on when he can’t remember where he is in the middle of the night. You not getting called every name but your own. You not seeing the bruises on GiGi that he leaves when me, Chase or Ryan are not there,” I said, standing up, my anger roiling too much to remain seated. The feeling made me antsy so I slowly began pacing on the side of the coffee table.

“What?” Pops recoiled, sinking back against the chair. “What bruises? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you letting your mother, children, nieces, and nephews get beat on by a person who doesn’t even exist anymore. We take it because we love him too but it’s not right. None of us are trained medical professionals! We all work, we all tired, we all got shit going on but none of that is considered because of your idealization of what a man is supposed to be? Let me clue you in, a man should know how to make the correct decisions for his family. Not put them through hell because of their pride,” I spat out.

The more I thought about his inconsideration the more vexed I became. All of the frustration I had previously swallowed was churning in the base of my throat. The acid was on the tip of my tongue but I was trying my best not to blow up. Trying my best not to slip back into the angry child he knew me to be growing up because then he really wouldn’t listen to me. He would accuse me of being emotional and dismiss everything I said in one fell swoop.

“You think my reasoning is about pride?” Pops said, standing to his feet as well. “Let me tell you something boy, everything I do is because it was what I was told to do. When your grandfather first started losing his memory, he knew it was only a matter of time. He made me swear to keep the house and him in it! He trusted me to do right by him and that’s what I’m going to do. He wanted to be at home with his family until the end so that is where he will be.”

“That was before he knew his disease would make him violent,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That changes things.”

“It does, I’ll look into getting an overnight nurse at the house. I didn’t know he was hitting GiGi,” Pops said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“But you knew he was hitting us. Why wasn’t that enough for you to make this decision when this behavior first started?” I asked, squinting my eyes in confusion. 

“By the time I was your age, I had been hit more times than I can count. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” Pops said, waving my question away. He stood with his shoulders squared, no regret written anywhere in his countenance. 

“So because you suffered, I should? That’s your logic,” I chuckled darkly. “The crazy part is you don’t even realize how fucked up you sound.”

“I’m not going to apologize for looking after my family and trying to raise you right,” Pops said.

“I’m not asking you too, I’m asking for you to apologize for failing at it. I didn’t go to Rikers for no reason,” I said.

Indignified, he steps closer to me and I keep my eyes on him as he eliminates the space between us.  “Now, that was your own mistake. You and you alone decided to go joy riding in somebody else's car. Your mother and I gave you everything and you almost pissed it away being careless. Don’t you dare put that shit on me,” he said, pushing his finger into my chest. 

“Yeah it was my mistake but what do you think pushed me into making it? Your constant threat of signing me up for the army actually made prison more appealing. Not something you ever considered huh father of the year?” I questioned, causing his eyes to go wide at the confession before settling into a slant.

“Hey now, what’s going on in here? Why are y’all yelling in my house?” Ma asked, walking into the living room but Pops held his hand up signaling for her not to come any closer. 

“See that’s what I mean right there, you always want a loophole around hardships or something you don’t like,” Pops said, twisting my words.

“No, because I’ve been through plenty of hardships. I want a father who loves me for who I am and not what he wants me to be but fuck that,” I said, slapping my chest for emphasis.

“Your father does love you sweetheart. Come, let’s have a seat, this has gotten out of hand and we need to take a beat,” Ma says softly, inching closer to us.

“Mom is right. As my first born, I didn’t know what my heart looked like until you got here, so don’t be mistaken Xavier. I will love you every day until I leave this Earth and even after but I’m struggling to like you at this moment,” Pops said, his tone full of steel as he takes a few steps back from me, hands on his hips. 

“Alex Taylor!” Ma gasps, shaking her head, as her eyes shift wildly between us both. Words that have been ten years in the making have been purged for what seems like no reason. He still didn’t see me, maybe he never did, and maybe he never will.

Nodding my head, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. “Likewise.” I place a kiss on my mother’s forehead and move before she can pull me into a hug. The action hurts her but I can’t be touched right now. “I’ll call you Ma. Tell V, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay long.”

With that, I stalk out of the house, the front door slamming behind me. Music still pours from the backyard and I’m grateful my sister didn’t have to bear witness to that ugliness. My legs carry me several blocks away from the house. I’m walking in hopes to calm myself down but it’s not working. This isn’t the kind of anger that burns off. It’s the kind that makes you feel as if you are breaking into a million pieces. I don’t feel like trying to collect the fragments either. Reaching into my pocket, I call the one person who can make me feel something besides this darkness. The call is connected on the first ring. She takes one look at my reddened face and spares me from having to spill my guts with one question.

“You trying to lose at UNO?”

“AYE YOU CHEATING.”

“No I’m not, we agreed to stacking,” I laughed, as Papi looked across the table at my empty hands with nothing but disbelief. In a matter of seconds I had changed the course of game night between the trio when I won my first and then second, and third round of the card games. Mila was happy for my wins because the mother and son duo had been beating her for the previous hour they had been playing.

“Take your L Papi,” Mila said.

“Vengeance will be mine,” Papi says, reaching for the cards to reshuffle but Mari stops him.

“It will be yours another day. We’re going to the movies,” Mari said.

“We are?” he asks with confusion wrinkling his brow but I knew what Mari was doing. Although I came in smiling and was cracking jokes, my energy was off. Even Papi noticed because he was being nice for once. 

“Yes we are. Say goodbye,” Mari said, standing up from the floor where she had been sitting.

Papi made quick work of wrapping his arms around Mila. She gave his curls a playful tug as he held out his fist in my direction.

“See you little man,” I said, bumping his fist with mine. 

“You coming to my game on Friday?” Papi asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said. I know it was a big deal for him to ask me, that meant in some way he was accepting me into his orbit.

“You weren’t going to invite me?” Mila asked.

“You always come. Didn’t think I had to ask anymore,” Papi says with a shrug.

“Fair point,” Mila concedes with a smirk.

“Thanks y’all,” Mari smiled. It meant a lot to her to have Papi feel supported and having an extra person to help with that was appreciated. “Boy, bring yourself.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” Mila said, watching as they bounded out of the apartment. 

Once the door clicks shut I waste no time, pulling Mila across the couch, and settling her into my lap. I push my face into the crook of her neck and inhale deeply, she smells of jasmine and something warmer. Something uniquely her that makes me press a kiss there. Her arms wrap tightly around my shoulders and that’s how we remain for a while. The only sound that can be heard is the show Papi insisted we watch from the tv. I listen to her heartbeat and let it lull me into some semblance of peace. Her fingers trail gingerly across the nape of my neck, moving in small circles. I let the power of her presence subdue the remnants of my frustration. Nuzzling my nose against her skin caused her to hold me tighter.

“You hungry?” she asks after some time.

“Not really,” I replied.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked and it apparently took me too long to come up with the answer by the indication of her sucking her teeth. “I’m going to heat you up some pizza and wings. You go wash up. I cleaned your clothes from last time you were here this morning. They are in the chair in my room.”

“Aight, thank you,” I said, retreating from my hiding spot to give her a kiss.

“Nothing to thank me for, go,” she says, kissing me once more before hopping out of my lap so that I can stand. She turns and heads to the kitchen before I can tell her how untrue that is. I shake my head and head to the bathroom knowing how she feels about compliments. One day I was going to tell her about all the ways she made my life better by just being herself. For now, I’d let her think she was slick.

After my shower, she beckons me outside to the small balcony that’s attached to the living room by way of a sliding door. There’s enough space for a chaise and a black cocktail table which our plates rest on. It’s still warm out but the breeze makes it one of the nicer summer nights. As soon as I sit, she hands me a plate. I express my gratitude with a forehead kiss that she blushes at. 

“Are we talking about it or ignoring it?” she asks softly once I’ve eaten half of my food.

“Ignoring for now,” I said, finishing off a wing and looking over at her. “It took a fifty minute Uber ride and seven games of UNO for me to reach the level of calm I’m currently on.”

“Understandable. I don’t need the details to tell you that I’m proud of you and that your braveness is something I admire,” she says, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“I dunno, I’m feeling more foolish than brave,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin.

A part of me knew the conversation with my father would go left and I had been prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was how deep his need to regulate everything was. I walked in hoping to demand his respect and left wondering why I had wanted it in the first place. He claimed to love me but purposely let me struggle for almost two years to teach me some sort of lesson. Even when I brought up how he failed me he stood in a chamber of ego refusing to let it be chinked with the truth. 

“That’s the risk of vulnerability. No matter how long it may take you, you find a way to express yourself which is the bravest thing any of us can do in the face of rejection or disappointment. I want to be fearless in that way too, I’m trying to be at least,” she said, with a nervous laugh. 

Grabbing her by the waist, I placed her in my lap for the second time this evening needing to have her closer. Her long limbs wrap around me, securing our embrace. 

“You are and it’s beautiful,” I said, kissing her cheek. She was on the cusp of finding her purpose. I considered myself blessed to be able to witness the journey. “I don’t express myself to be brave, I do it to be heard. A side effect of being a military brat I suppose but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to hear you say that.”

“Either way, you do it, and that’s something,” she said, staring into my eyes warmly. Underneath the glow of the streetlight I’m bathed in her spirit. It’s a balm that lays over the rough parts of today so that I can make it into tomorrow. 

After a moment of openly gaping at one another, she pressed her lips to mine. I kissed her back, tangling my hands in her braids, and chose to get lost in her versus continuing this particular line of conversation. It may be something but that something had not been enough to get my father to hear me. So it was no longer worth lamenting over.

As if she can feel my thoughts traveling outside of this moment, she pulls away from our kiss, to flick the tip of my nose with her tongue.

“Why?” I questioned, as I began to tickle her sides. She squeals as she tries to escape but can’t due to the hold I have on her. The sound of her laughter evokes my smile.

“I regret nothing,” she laughs, as she leans in to do it again. “Now finish eating so we can go start the second Captain America movie because I need to see the full scene of them jumping Tony.”

Tilting my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I groan. “Stooppp watching MCU compilations on Tik Tok.”

[a-trick-or-two-with-lepers]

Jesus Christ Superstar Live in Concert (NBC 2018) Breakdown and Review

Quick disclaimer: This is the second version of JCS that I've seen in full. I was introduced to the rock opera through the 1973 movie, and I'm not afraid to say that that is where my bias will always be, especially considering I'm more of a film buff than a theater nerd. However, I am aware that putting a feature-length film and a live recording of a performance on the same level for criticism is unfair, so I'll try to keep the comparisons to a minimum.

With that out of the way, here are my (slightly deranged) thoughts on NBC's JCS Live!

~Overture~

I can only imagine how hyped JCS enjoyers got while watching this live back in 2018. Not only is the live orchestra doing an amazing job, but the guitar players get their own time to shine on stage! This is so damn cool to see, because the guitar riffs are really what makes the song. When the "Heaven on Their Minds" riff began and we got to see one of the guitarists on stage just going at it, I knew I'd be in for a treat.

I'd like to take a moment to talk about the set design as well. One thing I know to be true about most JCS productions is that the set is almost always bare-bones - but in a meaningful way. The story relies more on the actions and emotions of its characters than the environment, which makes sense as Jesus and his compatriots were not necessarily wealthy. This remains true for this particular production. The staging is really impressive; you're never short of something or someone to look at.

Also... the outfits! I'm a sucker for leather, and this production has no shortage of it. The costumes, while aesthetically pleasing, show how much the ensemble in this play favor rebellion.

I love when casts are as diverse as possible - in ethnicity, skin color, body types, gender presentation, etc. This cast fits the bill, and everyone does a fantastic job in the overture. In fact, the ensemble this cast provides are just amazing in general. You can tell each and every one of them has oodles of experience under their belt. I have no complaints about any of their performances.

I will say, the flashing lights during the more chaotic bits were a bit much for me, but that's more due to my propensity to get overstimulated. Overall, the choices made in this section were top-notch, and I really can't be mad at any of it.

Enter: John Legend.

You know how I was really digging the costuming? Well...

Look, I understand that most productions have Jesus just looking like a normal ass dude with normal ass clothing, but was the grey shawl really necessary? Whatever, I'm not too put out by it. At least we get to see some John Legend tiddy.

It occurred to me during this part of the play that I am not a fan of live audiences. Once again, my easily overstimulated brain may be to blame, but I found myself wishing for most of the play that the audience would just quiet down. Nevertheless, I'm sure the cast was happy to be so outwardly appreciated.

~Heaven on Their Minds~

I'm gonna say this once and I won't say it again. THE MARKETING TEAM LEFT BRANDON VICTOR DIXON IN THE GODDAMN DUST. Seriously, every time I came across a video of this production on Youtube, his name was either not in the title, not in the thumbnail, or he was labeled as Tim Minchin. The poor guy is the main fucking character and nobody could be bothered to give him the credit he deserves. I understand that Legend is more famous, but seriously. That just rubs me the wrong way.

Anyway...

I'm back to loving the costuming. Judas' vest is so cool, and I love the symbolism of his tank being red. Honestly, any Judas in red has my heart immediately.

His performance here is good, but nothing I'm overly impressed by. I can understand wanting to save energy for later performances, though, and I'm definitely not offended by Dixon's singing. He's a bit stilted in his delivery, a little nasally in his vocals, and I sometimes have a hard time believing his performance. Though, I can imagine it's kind of hard to stay in character when you're struggling to be heard above the audience. I mean seriously! When Jesus did the bit where he reached out to the audience, the crowd got so loud that if I didn't know the lyrics to this song by heart I wouldn't know what Dixon was saying. It made me a bit mad, to be honest. I don't know, maybe that in itself is symbolic or some shit.

I do like Dixon's phrasing in some parts, especially when he sing-speaks the line "do you care for your race?" as well his sassy delivery of the titular line. I did not care for the way he sang "how put down we are," but he later totally nailed the original riff on "sour," which is one of my favorite vocal runs of all time. The way he interspersed the bits where he wasn't singing with spoken complaints was cute. He also did a really nice break at the "puh-LEASE" bit.

He really made the song his own. The last twenty seconds gave me chills. Dixon is clearly a very skilled performer, and though there were parts of his performance I didn't love, I overall really enjoyed watching him sing one of my favorite musical numbers.

One last thing about this part: I don't really like how Judas is singing directly to Jesus. A big part of Judas' characterization is that he is a sort of outcast-loner type, and his relationship with Jesus fails mainly because both men fail to communicate effectively. When Judas is literally expressing his concerns directly to Jesus, and Jesus outright ignores him, it makes Jesus come across as an unresponsive dick. Again, this is the first theater JCS I've seen, so I'm not sure how much of this is written in stone as part of the Broadway production. Instead of doing the right thing and researching that, I'm just going to judge the play based on how I initially responded to it.

~What's the Buzz / Strange Thing Mystifying~

I'm not sure if this is a constant in most JCS productions, but "What's the Buzz" feels too slow to me. It's a bit jumpier in the '73 version, but that may be because they were recording it in a studio rather than in front of a live audience. I will say, there's not much room for breathing in this song. Once again, though, the ensemble is doing a banger job.

I came into this not really having a strong opinion on John Legend. I really only know the one song from him ("All of Me," obviously). I've heard people criticize his performance in this, and while I'd much prefer a rock singer or seasoned Broadway performer in this role, I can't say I'm too offended by his casting. He's more focused on his voice than his acting. When it comes to musical theater, each line should be treated as its own and should portray a slightly different emotional tone. With Legend, all his lines kind of sound the same and seem to hold the same level of importance. He's also not very good at the kind of talk-singing that is usually present in this role. But, I can't deny that he sounds pretty damn good. I especially liked how he sang "Mary, oooh, that is good." Very sexy indeed.

Speaking of Mary! Who doesn't love Sara Bareilles? (No seriously, who? I just wanna talk...) I really really really love her dress, and her voice is just lovely. Very soothing and unassuming.

When Judas comes in for "Strange Thing Mystifying," he is once again portraying the perfect amount of sass and shade. I really missed the "hey cool it man :(" line from Simon, though. It's so adorable in the '73 JCS.

I really liked Legend's staccato "Who. Are. You." parts! Whoever made the decision to direct him like that knew what they were doing.

All around, there was more singing than acting going on from the main cast. In my opinion, this makes the characterization kind of weak, but it doesn't make the songs unenjoyable.

Also, I love the choreography here! Especially when they sing "when do we ride into Jerusalem?" Still can't top the '73 choreo for me, but that's a very high bar.

~Everything's Alright~

While I absolutely adore Sara Bareilles' voice, I wish she enunciated a bit more for this song, but that's just a personal preference. Her singing and her entire vibe is just so calming and gorgeous, and her runs are spot-on. Then we get to the little Judas and Jesus interaction.

In the original movie, this is the scene that made me realize, "Wow. These men really love each other." Every scene with Carl Anderson and Ted Neely is just so emotionally intense that it's impossible to look away. That is not really the case with Legend and Dixon.

Though they both sound good (for the most part), the desperation and emotional overflow is just not there. And I say for the most part because both Dixon and Legend struggle a bit with the higher notes. Dixon went for the belt, but was a bit flat. Legend opted to sing "when I'm gone" with a poorly sung falsetto, and it just. Does not fit. Whatsoever. It was a weak performance of a line that is meant to be fraught with emotion.

Also, by the end of the song, I'm pretty sure the point is supposed to be that despite Mary's careful ministrations, Jesus is still stressed and upset. But here? Nah, Jesus is just snoozin'.

Despite J and J's subpar deliveries, I enjoyed this song even if just for how Mary was presented.

~This Jesus Must Die~

Norm Lewis! I! Don't really... have a pre-formed opinion on him. So many people seem to, but I just haven't been involved in theater for so long that I'm a bit out of the loop.

Nonetheless, he is a wonderful performer. His vibrato is liquid gold. However, I was under the impression that Caiaphas is a role usually played by bass singers. Lewis is very clearly a baritone. I'm not sure I'm too happy with this choice, especially since he seems to struggle a bit with the lower notes. It's not nearly as noticeable as Legend's struggle with high notes, but I really wish we got to have a beautiful, gravelly bass voice in this role. Even without the inhumanly low tones, Lewis manages to make this role just as intimidating as it should be.

Jin Ha does a good job as Annas. I don't have much to say about his performance.

What I find particularly funny about this part is that you can tell who the stage performers are. Legend is a singer. He sings. These priests that have like, two lines each? They're PERFORMERS. They are taking their fifteen seconds of fame and milking them as much as possible, and I respect the hell out of it because it makes for some very enjoyable performances. The "What then to do about this Jesusmania?" guy killed it.

I love the costuming here as well - very cool geometric designs on the jackets.

Though I would love to say I fancied this version of the song, they didn't include the "Jesus is cool" line. And for that, this is my least favorite song in the production. (/j)

~Hosanna~

I don't have a whole lot to say about this one. It was good! Just a few little tidbits:

-Legend starting a crowd clap was cute

-This song works really well for Legend cause it's right in his register and he doesn't have to reach for any super high notes

-The key change is super cool! I LOVE Legend's runs during this part as well

-The last part where they all sing "SUPERSTAAAAR" was awesome and I can imagine them using that for a lot of cable advertisements

~Simon Zealotes / Poor Jerusalem~

First of all: Simon's cute as hell! Look at his lil' hair!

I just love when this role is played as the most energetic, chaotic, batshit insane guy you've ever seen. And I cannot express how delighted I am to see a role in this play being done by a rock singer! Erik Grönwell's performance here is my favorite out of anyone in this play so far. His belts are out of this world.

The ensemble can't be discounted here either, 'cause they sound freaking amazing. But I've already expressed my love for them.

Surprisingly, Legend's falsetto actually works well for "Poor Jerusalem." It makes sense, though, as this part is meant to be a bit gentler and more downtrodden. He sounds really nice.

Side note: when did they change the "but you close your eyes" line to "but you live a lie?" Is that just for this version or was it changed previously? I feel like it doesn't really add anything.

~Pilate's Dream~

Not much to say here either, it's a pretty short song. I will say I really like Pilate's outfit. The colors are reminiscent of '73 version, which is an immediate like from me. I also like how Pilate looked straight into the camera at the end of the song. Pretty impactful even if I know for a fact they went to commercial break right after that.

~The Temple~

Okay. I'd die for these guitarists. I love whenever they're on stage! They're killing it!

Anyway, I found it pretty funny that the temple-goers just started dumping glitter on the ground. I wrote in my notes "Slay ig," so, slay ig.

It's pretty cool too how the "temple" is literally just a huge cross on the ground. The slow movement of the camera makes this a languid realization, which is neat.

Speaking of which, I forgot to mention that the camerawork so far has been really good. I never feel like I'm watching something stagnant, yet I still feel like a part of the audience. Good job, NBC crew.

"My temple should be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves" is my favorite part of the original movie. It's so undeniably powerful, and Neely's rock-belt is just heavenly to listen to. (He performs it live, too, so I know it isn't just a trick of the recording studio).

Legend's version of this line? Eh, it was alright. It was honestly better than I was expecting. I was really worried he was just gonna sing it the way it was written and go for the falsetto, but he instead chose to stay in his range. He also has an intentional voice break, indicating a bit of emotion, which is nice to see. I don't know why he sings the "get outs" in lowercase; it's just kind of funny.

The lepers sound really good, but when Legend is trying to sing his part over them, I can hardly hear him. What I did hear, though, was like? Really good? Super rock-sounding. Hopefully we hear more of that later...

~I Don't Know How to Love Him~

No notes. She slayed.

Yvonne Elliman supremacy, but Sara Bareilles Mary Magdalene now has a place in my heart. I'm glad I watched this production if just for her, honestly.

~Damned for all Time / Blood Money~

What can I say? The priests are spooky, the lighting is badass, and Norm Lewis is the best singer here.

As far as Judas goes, Dixon is doing exceedingly well for how ridiculously hard this song is to sing. Carl Anderson owns this song in my heart, but Dixon is not disappointing. He makes up for the lack of insane belting by adding his own runs, and it works well. I wrote in my notes that "Brandon actually looks like emotions are happening," so, yeah. Also, the BICEPS! Needless to say, I was enjoying it.

~The Last Supper~

I forgot why I wrote "Aw, gay apostles" in my notes, but going back to it, I noticed how much hugging kissing was going on between these guys. Can't complain, love a good smooch.

Mary is also in this scene, which differs from the movie. And she shows her hospitality towards Judas, which is cute. I always wished they had Judas and Mary interact more in the movie.

Legend sounds good at the beginning. Once again, this song is well within his range, and his falsettos don't feel too out of place. However, they didn't put a pause between the "when you eat and drink" line and the "I must be mad" line, which I thought was odd.

When the accusations start flying, Jesus just. Doesn't seem mad. Judas does, and Dixon completely upstages Legend in this scene.

After the apostles sing a second time, and Judas starts dishing out the insults to Jesus, I feel like it should have been more one-on-one and personal. I would've had the apostles move further away or even leave the stage for this part.

Oof. Legend singing "Get out!" in falsetto was just... not good. When the audience clapped for it I cringed so hard.

Let's see if Legend can redeem himself with the next song...

~Gethsemane~

With how bad everyone made it out to be, I was expecting Legend to completely biff it here. But to my surprise, he really stepped it up here, in both terms of singing and acting. Obviously, it was nowhere near as impactful as Gillan or Neely's versions, but I could at least see that Legend was trying. This part made me recognize that he isn't necessarily a bad actor, he just isn't consistent enough in his performance for it to be believable that he is in character.

He displayed some really impressive rock-belting midway through the song, right around where most people usually go for the g5 note. It sounds so gravelly and crisp, and I really wish he used it more during this performance. Additionally, I am very happy that he didn't go for the g5. That part usually makes or breaks the performance, and with Legend I think we know which way the egg was gonna fall.

There were some good choices made here as well as some bad ones. He still did some nasty falsettos in the latter half of the song, which actually made me laugh. Seriously, who convinced him that was okay? I feel like this would have been a well-regarded performance without that.

Overall, I'm impressed. The weak points were weak, but few, and the strong points were really strong. It wasn't nearly as poor as people made it out to be.

~The Arrest~

The kiss was nice and tender. I like the way Jesus hugs Judas afterwards too, that was very sweet. For some reason it sounded like Legend said "Judas, must you betray me with a gay?" which I thought was pretty funny.

I like how the arrest was framed as a news stint, with reporters and mics and all that. It was also pretty neat how they interspersed the solo lines with ensemble lines.

~Peter's Denial~

Peter was good, but the real standout here was that guy with the phone that sang "But I saw him too, he looked just like you." God DAMN! They went OFF!! Can he play Judas next please?

~Pilate and Christ~

Pilate is really the one bringing the camp here. He ate this up.

~King Herod's Song~

Well. What do you want me to say here? It's Alice Cooper. Do you really think I am physically, mentally, or legally capable of criticizing Alice Cooper?

I'll spare you the fangirling I did in my notes app; just know I, as well as the audience, was very happy to see this man doing his thing.

Also, as a rocker, he actually made this song fit with the rest of the play, which is truly a feat.

(Still not as good as his episode on The Muppets).

~Could we Start Again Please~

Even though I love Sara as Mary, and Peter did a good job as well, I wish they included more ensemble in this song. I feel like it's more impactful that way as it shows that there were still people who believed in Jesus. Still, I'm so glad they decided to keep this song in most JCS productions because it's one of my favorites.

~Judas's Death~

Oh no, he lost the leather vest! I'm not complaining though... 😏

This is the part where I praise Dixon for his showmanship, 'cause this man just got THROWN and he KEPT SINGING! I found that to be very impressive. Though I will say, the increase in his emotional performance seems to cause his singing to suffer a bit. To be fair, it's an incredibly hard part to sing.

Aside from Jesus going bonkers in the Temple, Judas' reprise of "I Don't Know How to Love Him" is my favorite scene in the original movie. Did Dixon live up to my expectations? Well, considering my expectations were pretty low to begin with, he exceeded them.

This is seriously the best acting I've seen in the whole play. Dixon completely sells his performance. Consider me a proud and satisfied viewer.

Although, quick PSA to the audience. You don't actually have to clap every time a man sings in falsetto, mkay? Thanks <3

~Trial Before Pilate~

This song is notorious for its difficult timing considering it's just talksingtalksingtalk *BUM* talksingtalksingtalk *BUM* for a bit. This Pilate though? Yeah, he nails it. I was really impressed by his performance. Also, when he said "talk to me Jesus Christ," that was the most sexual tension I've seen in a stage play, wow.

I don't really understand what was going on in the flogging scene, because the ensemble members were just running past him individually, but Legend was selling it. It definitely looked like he was in pain, and the lashes on his back didn't look sloppy or rushed.

Another emotional crux of the play is when Pilate basically yells "DON'T LET ME STOP YOUR GREAT SELF DESTRUCTION!!" I was a little let down by this guy's performance of these lines honestly. However, he was virtually perfect the rest of the time so I can't really be mad.

~Superstar~

THIS. THIS IS IT.

For whatever reason, Dixon just decided to turn the iconic scale up to 1000. The diamond laced fit. The dancing. The footwork. Everything about this performance was absolutely incredible, and I am just ecstatic about it. I mean, the man was full on spinning on the ground while singing. Every run he did now has a permanent residence in my brain. If you decide not to watch this version of JCS, I understand. I don't blame you. But if nothing else, please please PLEASE watch this part on Youtube. You won't regret it.

In the words of a close friend of mine, he slayed, ate it up, left no crumbs, licked it clean, you could eat off that plate again.

~The Crucifixion~

There were some lines in here that definitely weren't in the movie, and again, I'm not super familiar with the broadway play so I'm not sure how much of this was changed for this version alone. Nonetheless, Legend did a good job here. I mean, attempting to portray Jesus dying on a cross is a task to be sure, and he accomplished it.

~John Nineteen: Forty One~

There seemed to be some resurrection imagery here, so, congratulations Christians. He did the rising. (I am not religious, can you tell)?

I love me a good curtain call. They're just so joyous.

So! Was this production worth two hours of me composing my thoughts on it into a Tumblr post approximately five people will read? You tell me. I certainly enjoyed my time with it, and I hope to do this with more productions. I'm looking forward to watching both the 2012 revival and broadway productions, the 2014 Swedish one, and the 2000 movie. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for others I might enjoy or that you would like to see a breakdown of.

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Playground Appropriate

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in The Shape of Youniverse

The Prompt: Marc is the best dad ever with Nyla at the local playground

Requested by: a lovely nonnie!

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, background Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system 

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶, Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2.5k

CW/TW: Bosses being terrible, Marc is a booty-ful DILF but reticent about another bb bc trauma, mention of lactation kink and pussy-drunkenness, dirty talk, sixty-nineing so both m! and f!receiving oral, P in V sex, a smidge of over-sensitivity and spanking, daddy kink

A/N: Is the gif shitty and low-quality with a tacky watermark? Yes, but guess what? I DON’T CARE! I made it myself because the video from whence it came and an idea from @lovetopanic that MAJORLY inspired me when writing this fill. To the beautiful little bambina who made this ovary-exploding moment happen, thank you for your service. 

As much as you loved being back at your job, you hadn’t missed days like these. Your and Marc’s plans to take Nyla to the Discover Children’s Story Center were promptly and thoroughly ruined when your boss called early this morning, a Saturday, and demanded you report into the office for an emergency meeting. You were in charge of one of your company's largest accounts, which while it came with lucrative bonuses and more challenging, fulfilling work, it also meant dealing with your superiors’ neuroses. 

Your husband patiently listened to your laments while you got ready to go into the office. You wanted nothing more than to tell them to shove it, but your family was swiftly outgrowing your current place and you needed every penny of everyone’s salaries – yours, Marc’s, Jake’s, and Steven’s – to afford more space in the overpriced and cutthroat London real estate market. 

“We can go another time,” Marc tried to downplay the inconvenience as you finished primping in the living room mirror to look office-presentable and he fed Nyla breakfast. 

“I know it’s not a big deal, it’s just–” you slipped on a pair of loafers and huffed, “--it’s the principle of it you know? Graham and Nigel are both middle-aged divorcees, they don’t have families they care about spending time with, so we all suffer. In-person too.” 

“Which is why you have to hang in there and get promoted so you can change things,” your husband reminded you. He turned to Nyla, “We’ll find something to do just the two of us.”

“You’re right,” you conceded. “But can you blame me for wanting to spend every second I can with this chunky monkey?”

Rather than waiting for Marc’s reply, you peppered your daughter’s plump little feet and legs with kisses in her high chair. She squealed in delight at your affections, flailing her hands in delight and sending her banana slices flying.  

“Thanks,” he harrumphed at the additional mess. 

“Sorry,” you apologized with a kiss to his cheek before you pulled on your jacket and grabbed your bag.

Nyla proceeded to slam the tray of her high chair and shrieked even more when she saw her mom was leaving home without her. Marc knew he’d be dealing with an irate 16-month-old if he didn’t handle this right. 

“Okay, come here little girl,” he freed his daughter from her seat and scooped her in his arms. “Let’s say goodbye to Mommy.” 

They met you in the doorway and your baby’s sweet, cherubic face, currently with banana smeared across it, tugged at your heart strings. You wanted nothing more than to text your bosses to go fuck themselves, how dare they take you away from your baby any more than necessary, but you were tolerating these nightmare men ultimately for Nyla’s benefit. “Mommy will be back soon sweetie, be a good girl for Daddy.” 

“Wave bye-bye Nyla,” Marc encouraged her, modeling the gesture himself. After a few moments of watching her father, Nyla mimicked his wave. It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen. “Bye-bye Mommy, we love you, bye-bye!” 

“Bye Smushy, love you so much,” you waved back at her, swooped in for one last kiss on those chipmunk cheeks, then addressed your husband. “I’ll text you when I’m free, honey.” 

“Sounds good, babe,” Marc murmured and pecked you on the lips. 

Leaving the two of them felt akin to a death march as you exited your building for the Tube. No matter how big Nyla got, you always felt an ache when you left her. Even when she was in the more than capable hands of her doting dad, being apart from Nyla felt as if there was a piece of you missing. It was easier to cope with when you were sleep-deprived or your daughter was driving you crazy, but you and Marc’d had such a lovely morning with her.

***

It was a herculean effort for you to maintain a professional veneer during the meeting with Graham, Nigel, and a few fellow godforsaken colleagues. Thankfully, assuaging their concerns about the account didn't take more than an hour and a half. You just needed to send a few “urgent” emails and then you could return to the quaint, quiet weekend you’d been enjoying with your family. 

You immediately fired off a text to Marc once you left the conference room. 

From me: Leaving here in 10! 

From Hubby: K, we’re at the park. 

Marc was the “coldest” texter out of him and his alters. Steven loved his emojis, while Jake messages were always a mix of English and Spanish with an abundance of typos in both languages. He wasn’t much of an emoji user, though he did love the smirking devil one. It was usually fitting, after all. Boy loved to sext. You’d tried over the years to hammer into Marc’s brain that ending texts with a period meant that you were either angry or a psychopath, but it was a lost cause. 

Today Marc redeemed his unintentionally icy text by sending a photo of Nyla on the swings at Dulwich. You were impressed that he’d not only managed to dress your daughter in an outfit that wouldn’t get her seized by the local safeguarding children board, she sported an actual hairstyle to boot. You detested the phrase, but Marc was blossoming into quite the “girl-dad”. 

From me: PIGTAILS! 

From Hubby: Steven helped with those. 

From me: Well done, you two! See you soon xx 

***

When you arrived at Dulwich playground, you spotted Marc and Nyla before they saw you. You took a moment to covertly observe them, marveling at how attentively the man who was initially afraid to hold his newborn was now playing with his daughter. He followed her every move, steadying her with gentle and firm hands when Nyla needed it, encouraging her the entire time. 

Turned out you weren’t the only one admiring Marc with Nyla. You’d be the first to sing the praises of Marc’s butt, and with him bent over tending to his daughter as she toddled around, you couldn’t exactly blame the mums and nannies that were enjoying the view. 

You approached them before it got creepy and announced yourself with the exclamation, “Is that my big, beautiful girl?!”

“MAMA!” Nyla launched herself at you and you swept her in your arms at once.  You dotted kisses all over her face, and lifted her up above your head, earning a peal of ecstatic laughter. Then, just like that, she was squirming to be released. 

Marc sidled up to you once Nyla’s feet were back on the ground to ask lowly, “Do I get a kiss?”

“Hmm, let me see.” 

He got a kiss alright. One with tongue and that included your hand wandering into the back pocket of his jeans to give one of those luscious ass cheeks a squeeze. Were you marking your territory? Maybe. 

“Now, that was not playground appropriate,” he panted when you broke apart.  

You shrugged your shoulders and answered in a voice that was not one bit repentant, “Oops.” 

“Mama!” Nyla banged on the thick plastic of one of the playground’s slides. 

“Apparently the first fifty times we went down together weren’t sufficient,” Marc observed wryly. 

“Of course not,” you laughed and passed him your bag to hold.  

Twenty minutes with Nyla and all of your work frustration was forgotten. The three of you ended up spending the remainder of the afternoon at the park, stopping to pick up a pizza for dinner on the way home since neither you or Marc felt like cooking. 

Later, your husband tucked Nyla in while you wrapped up a few outstanding emails on the couch. You met Marc just outside of her door and collectively tip-toed into your bedroom.  

“That was impressively fast,” you remarked once it was safe to speak at full volume. 

Marc emerged from the en-suite with his toothbrush in hand. “The playground tired her out thankfully.” 

You sat up on your knees from your spot on the bed. “You can’t blame me for wanting another baby when you’re so good with her.”

You and your husband had begun to discuss Baby Number Two. While Steven and Jake were on board, Marc was the hold out. The last thing you wanted to do was pressure him since you suspected his reluctance was out of lingering fear and trauma from his past. 

“Steven and Jake just want to knock you up so they can milk your tits again.” Marc earned a little shove from you for that statement, but he continued, “Also you said you wanted to be in a bigger place before we had another?” 

You cursed Marc and his stupid memory when he disappeared back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

He joined you on the bed, and you tucked your fingertips under his T-shirt to strip it off. “How about we compromise then, and you pound that big cock into me instead?”

Your husband groaned, both from your naughty suggestion and the touch of your hands flitting from his chest downwards. “Shit, I hope she stays asleep because I’ve wanted to fuck you raw since that move you pulled at the playground.” 

“Hmmm, I can feel it,” you purred, wrapping your fingers around his growing erection. “Watching you take such good care of our little girl made me so wet.” 

“Lemme see,” he grunted, momentarily removing your hand from his dick to knock you back among the pillows. 

You spread your legs as soon as your back hit the mattress, and Marc wasted no time hiking up your nightgown to get a glimpse of your folds. A low, aroused rumble resonated from his chest at the sight, compelling him to trail kisses up the inside of your thigh.

“This little pussy is always so pretty and glistening for me,” he growled. 

“Marc,” you sighed, your voice thin while he touched you. “Wanna suck your cock.” 

Your husband didn’t have to be told twice. He manhandled you on top of him, leveling your eyeline with his throbbing dick while he lined up his mouth with your entrance, which was currently clenching in anticipation. You drew his length between your lips and swirled your tongue around its head, tasting the salty pre-cum that had begun to leak from it. Marc groaned at the stimulation and sank his face into your pussy in turn. 

Together you made the most divine feedback loop of pleasure, your slurping around Marc’s member, spurring him to lap at your folds all that more enthusiastically. It was nearly impossible to focus enough to apply any technique to sucking your husband’s dick when he was tongue-fucking your hole and drinking down your ample nectar like a man starved. His deep moans reverberated against the wet, sensitive skin between your thighs, bringing you even closer to the orgasm steadily building within you. 

You choked on your husband’s erection when he landed a slap on your ass, then moaned around him when the large pad of a calloused finger found your clit. The extra stimulation, in addition to Marc’s tongue swirling inside of you, is what you sent over the edge. Your eyes crossed, dick still in mouth, as your peak swept your body from head to toe. 

The force of your climax meant you needed to pull off his manhood to get sufficient oxygen into your lungs. Just when you’d recovered enough to resume your worship, Marc tapped your thigh to stop you. Though your husband was usually all too happy to come in your mouth, tonight was different.

“Need your cunt,” he clarified with slurred, pussy-drunk words. 

“Fuck…okay,” you gasped, your voice rough from having your husband’s dick down your throat.

Maneuvering you onto your back amongst the pillows was an easy task for Marc, your body made pliant and prone by the delicious orgasm. He leant down to share an absolutely filthy kiss with you, greedily tasting the tang of the two of you together, before he locked eyes with yours. Only once your dilated pupils had found his did Marc drape your leg over his shoulder and slide home.

You rewarded him with a drawn-out keen, writhing under his dark, suffocatingly hot gaze. He began with slow strokes, grinding himself against your pelvis, luxuriating in being one. 

“So deep, daddy,” you whined. Speared on his cock, your frame convulsed when he undulated against you, since your slit still felt like a live-wire after your orgasm. 

He rocked even more torturously slowly where you were joined, circling those sinful hips so you could feel every inch of him. “You like it?” 

“Uh huh,” you gasped, jerking once again from oversensitivity. 

Your husband transitioned to a faster pace to impale you on his member. His increase in tempo earned a euphoric whimper from you. With no orgasm to chase, you could simply revel in the sensation of his dick filling you over and over, losing yourself in the stretch of your pussy around his thick girth. 

“Yeah…come on, take daddy’s cock,” he snarled as he thrust into you, backing off his ferocious rhythm some. “So fuh-fucking tight.” 

“So big,” you whimpered, pretty sure that you were about a minute away from vibrating out of your skin. 

“No one fucks you like daddy, right?” Marc slowed, waiting for your answer before driving into you any further. 

You shook your head so rigorously, your cheeks collided with the pillow as your neck thrashed back and forth. “Please daddy, pound my pussy!” 

He approved of your response with another growl, “Well, since you asked so nicely,” and resumed a punishing pace. 

From there, it was a blur of the sound of skin slapping skin, Marc’s grunts, your cries, and your husband testing your flexibility by stretching your leg back to get a deeper angle before his hot cum was painting your walls. 

Marc straightened up after emptying himself into you, pressing a small, reverent kiss into the skin of your ankle before releasing your limb. 

Honestly surprised that you could formulate words, you somehow commented, “I know the jury’s still out on a second kid, but you are damn good at making them, Marc Spector.” 

“As are you, Mrs. Spector,” he echoed, collapsing back on the bed. 

He tugged on his boxers once again, and you pulled your nightie back down as you padded to the bathroom to clean and relieve yourself. Marc followed suit, and when he reunited with you in bed, it was important to you to confirm, “Another baby or not, you know you’re a great father, right?” 

Usually Marc would deflect with a (often dirty) joke, but this time, shrouded in the darkness of your bedroom, he replied quietly, “I hope so.” 

“You are,” you averred and snuggled closer into him. “It’s not just me either, the entire female population at the playground was salivating over you playing with Nyla today.” 

“So that’s why you greeted me with that pornographic kiss,” he chuckled.

“You’re mine,” you shrugged, not one bit ashamed of your actions. 

Marc pressed a kiss into your hair, “That’s right, baby.” 

A/N: Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by Oscar Isaac not putting a baby in you 🙋‍♀️ I’m doggedly making my way through these prompt fills, thanks to everyone again for your patience and support! 

Taglist: @twwcs​, @rmoonstoner​, @hot-mess-express1​, @murdickdocked, @toracainz​, @saahmi​, @unspokenmoon​, @winterbiipp​, @avatarofseshat​ @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6​, @harrys-tittie​, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32​, @dawnsutopia​, @strawberry1042, @nikitawolfxo​,  @weirdo125  

[quietmyfearswith]

suitkovia ; baron zemo x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

warnings — SMUT SO MINORS GO AWAY, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), cursing, cheek and clit slapping, groping(ish)

word count — 3,457 words

pairing — fashion designer!helmut zemo x model!reader

a/n —zemo is such a fucking hot daddy and daniel bruhl is just as hot — and what was i gonna do?? not write about it??? psh no way! also blame the suitkovia video because he was so fucking hot andgoofy there.. enjoy this self-indulgent fic! also idk if you can be a baron and a fashion designer but let’s pretend that that’s possible okay? feedback is appreciated and hope u guys have a lovely day !! :> 

also the ones in italics are in sokovian, i just didnt want to translate it into something lmao

tagging @art-estrange

masterlist 

“Sir, your newest model has arrived,” Oeznik informed with a smile; and just as he announced it, the mentioned woman walked in and into the line of sight of the famous Sokovian designer.

Putting down the now empty glass of whiskey he earlier downed, he stood up and approached her, “Hello Y/N,” He huskily greeted her as his hands gently landed on her arms which allowed him to lean over and plant tender kisses on both her cheeks, “I am eternally grateful for your endorsement and modelling of our line of clothes.”

The kiss caught her off guard — but in a pleasant way — and she could only smile coyly, “If anything it is my pleasure to be able to wear your masterpiece of garments, Baron; I’m honoured that you thought of me.”

Releasing his grip from her he then held out a hand for her to take, once she did she was being led in front of the racks of clothes that were lined up — waiting for her to be worn. “Did you want a drink? Perhaps a Turkish delight?”

Eyeing the coffee table where a small platter of sweets and food lay along with some refreshments, she shook her head no and politely declined. “You can leave us now, Oeznik. And we are not to be disturbed, yes?”

“Of course, Sir.”

When the two men spoke in Sokovian, it made her quite uneasy but when she watched the designer run his hands along the fabric of the gowns that were hung, she thought that he was talking about one of the dresses. The wooden doors noisily shut behind her as the assistant left the two of the alone in the room.

“Thank you, again, for coming in here a day earlier than the arranged photoshoot,” He grabbed a gown off the rack and carefully carried it in front of her. “Of course, I understand that it was necessary to ensure that the clothes would fit me well.”

Nodding, he then handed her the silk tulle gown with a smile, “May you try this on first?” Taking the soft gown from him she silently complied and headed to the dressing room he pointed at.

While waiting for her to get changed, he sat down and poured himself another glass of whiskey. Perhaps it was due to her training or attributable to her various ramp model gigs, she quickly changed into the gown; there was one setback however, there was a zipper on the back that was too far for her to reach.

Walking out of the dressing room, she cleared her throat — effectively catching the attention of the Sokovian designer, “Baron? I need some help with the zipper.” She turned around and his breath was hitched in his throat as he saw how beautiful she looked.

“Of course I can help, darling,” He snapped out of his adoring gaze and stood up quickly to zip up the dress. Feeling the pad of his fingers along her skin resulted in both of them feeling a rush of electricity run through. “All done, love.”

It was comical how the fabric whirled around in slow motion as she twirled around to face him; he took a few steps back to admire her fully, “You look exactly like the goddess Persephone, darling.”

Walking in front of the the full length mirror that was placed in the far back part of the room, she observed herself in the eloquently-designed gown and smiled, “The gown looks like something straight out of a fairytale; and it fits me well,” She faced him as she remembered the last part of his statement, “Persephone? Is that your inspiration for this new line?”

Finishing off the remaining liquor he had poured out before nodding and explaining, “The recent books that I’ve been reading are about the Greek gods and goddesses.” He then stood behind her and gently touched her waist, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, “And Persephone stood out to me the most.”

“Not Aphrodite? Is she not the most beautiful goddess in Mount Olympus?”

“Touche,” He smirked and removed his hands from her sides and went back to the racks and fetched the blue, floral gown that was the first design he made for his most current collection, “But the Olympian beauty wasn’t my focus on all, for I was far too intrigued with Persephone.”

A pout formed her lips as she was confused with his reasoning, “Change into this one first then I can answer the questions you have,” He assured her as if he could read her mind.

Thankfully the second gown that was handed for her to try on was easier for her to zip up; but at the same time she was dismayed at the realization that she wouldn’t be able to feel his hot touch on her skin. Upon stepping out of the velvet dressing room, she announced, “I think this is my favorite gown by far. This really makes me feel like a goddess.”

“To be fair, princess, with or without the clothes you would be crowned a goddess.”

The blunt comment had her biting her lip as she felt undeserving of his praise; standing next to him in front of the mirror, she shook her head and replied, “Well I’m not Greek so your argument is invalid, Baron.”

Once again, his hands roamed around her body — but this time his hands settled on her bare shoulders, “Not all goddesses are Greek; there are Nordic, Celtic, Indian — to name a few.” Looking to her right, where he had rested his chin while his hooded eyes took in every inch of her, she gulped down, “Cultured and intelligent all on top of having a great eye and sense of fashion — is there something you’re lacking?”

“Just my Persephone,” He muttered after placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. That piqued her interest, she created some distance between the two of them but she laced her hands with his as she smirked, “You think of yourself as Hades?”

“In a way, I do,” He disconnected himself from her and was skimming through the different dresses he had planned for here to wear, “Are you the king of the underworld?” From her tone it was obvious that she was slightly teasing him, but he decided to give her a serious answer either way.

“Despite how magnificent that would be, I am not,” His eyebrows lifted up in excitement as he picked one of the next gowns that Y/N would try on, “But I do admire his passion; he and I share that same thing, you know?”

Handing it over to her, she got the signal that it was her next frock she was to try on; silently, she nodded and took the dress and headed to the dressing room. As she slid on the crepe gown, she then nodded to herself and smiled.

A low whistle was heard when she stepped out in front of the mirror, with a smile Zemo’s fingers danced around her neck as he fastened the cape in its place, “Now you look like something carved out of marble.”

Trailing down from her neck, his hands settled themselves on top of her breasts, “Is the neckline too much?” Her chest heaved up in anticipation as she shook her head no, “I don’t think it is, Baron.”

Smiling, he nodded and placed a kiss on the intersection of her neck and shoulders, “I’m delighted you feel so, darling. I feel like you have questions regarding my earlier statement.” Her small nod encouraged the designer to explain further, “Hades is often dismissed for he is the king of the dead. But, if anything, I think it is his passion for Persephone that he should be known for.”

“Oh?” Was the only word that escaped her with a shaky breath; a simple kiss in her skin had reduced her brain into a puddle, but the simple word spurred him to continue, “After finding the woman of his dreams, he did everything in his power to keep her in his arms.” His hands then slid down from her breasts and to her waist, pushing her body closer to his. Taking in her heavenly scent, he smiled upon feeling goosebumps against the skin of her shoulder where his lips were.

“Have you found your Persephone then?”

“I have now,” He gruffly spun her around and latched his lips on hers; she quickly welcomed his soft lips as she opened her mouth and moaned out as  his hands nestled themselves on her ass, occasionally squeezing her cheeks. Her hands ran along his bearded cheeks and pushed him closer to her.

She whimpered when he tore off the cloak hastily and sucked on her neck, “You’re so fucking beautiful, darling.” As soon as he unzipped her dress she automatically shrugged it off her shoulders, exposing how she didn’t wear any kind of underwear underneath it. Amused, Zemo smirked as he ran his hand along her stomach, “Do you always go about without any kind of underwear?”

“No, not really,” She denied, “It’s easier to slip in between dresses without underwear holding me back.” Holding onto her waist he then carried her to lay on her back on the velvet couch, “Well that just makes it easier for me to please my goddess.”

He dipped down and licked her clit with his thick, wide tongue; and with just one lick of his tongue she was placing her legs on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. “Fuck, more please,” Hearing her moan out for her, egged him to shove his tongue in her tight canal as he swirled around and tasted her sweet juices.

“What got you this wet, my little goddess?” It was a rhetorical question — which was a good thing for she was so deep in pleasure that she couldn’t process anything in her pleasure-riddled brain. His thumb rubbed her clit vigorously while his other hand inched upward and grabbed onto her nipple, twisting and pulling on it.

“Were you this eager to be fucked, darling?” The vibrations of the filthy words had her locking her legs behind his neck,  further nudging his tongue deeper into her pussy. A loud whine erupted from her mouth when he pulled his face away, “Does that disappoint you, love?”

“Please, Baron. I need you,” She moaned out, her eyes blinking as tears of pleasure threatened to spill out. Wordlessly, he slid two of his fingers in her pussy and lowered his mouth so he could lick her clit. He didn’t break eye contact with her as she watched him lap her juices while his fingers were being squeezed by her damp walls.

“Is this what you needed, darling? Wanted my fingers?” She nodded as tangled her hand into his har, “Fuck! How am I going to fit my cock when you are already struggling to take my fingers.”

Her chest was heaving up and down in pleasure as she thrashed around, “Want you, want you so bad.” Her declaration had his chest rumbling with pride as he pulled his fingers away and kissed her hardened nub one last time.

“Is that so? Can you take all of me inside you then?” He lifted his face right in front of hers, she moved to slant their lips together. Dribbling down from his mouth to hers, she got a faint taste of her juices; and in the model’s opinion, it tasted better when it was mixed with his saliva.

“Want to please you first baron,” She clawed at the ends of his sweater, hands loving the feel of his warm back, “Can I taste you first?” The way she pleaded for him had him smirking at the realization that she was just as desperate for him as he was for her. Giving his consent silently, he helped lift off the cashmere sweater he was wearing and toss it on the foot. Switching both their sides so he lay under her posed as a challenge for her kisses went south — from peppering kisses on his beard, she lowered them until her cold mouth met the wide expanse of his chest.

“You really have a way,” He paused his train of thought as her lips gave his nipple a gentle tug; his eyes darkened with desire as he watched her give the opposite nipple the same treatment before kissing her way down his stomach, “With that precious tongue of yours, darling.”

The way her eyes peered up at him innocently contradicted the way her hands expertly unbuckled his pants; and once his pants, along with his underwear, was being moved off of him she licked her lips in anticipation. One hand stroked the entirety of his length while the other rested on his thigh, anchoring herself.

As if to test the waters, she placed kitten licks on the tip of his cock, “Fucking hell, darling,” The designer moaned out once she lowered herself and allowed her mouth to enclose around half of his cock. The way his cock poked around the inside of her mouth was a delightful intrusion for her; soon enough the tip of his cock was poking the back of her throat.

His short nails were digging themselves against her hair as his chest rumbled in pleasure, “You got me so close, love. Want to have a taste of Sokovia?” The chuckle he let out quickly died down when she fondled his balls with one hand as she shook her head a bit as she deepthroated him long enough until she gagged a bit.

It wasn’t long before he spilled all over her mouth,  “Fuck, darling,” He moaned out as she milked him. Easing his grip on her head, he smiled upon seeing her lick her lips and open her mouth — showing him how he swallowed every single drop of his cum.

“You taste delicious, Baron,” She said with a smile as she rose up from where she was kneeling and moved to sit on his lap, “Can I please ride you?” Her meek petition had him even harder. Wordlessly, he snaked an arm in his cock, tapping it against her pussy before sliding it in her; in one motion he was already halfway inside her.

“Already so wet for me, darling,” Helmut moaned out when he lifted her by the asscheeks, leaving only his tip inside her; her nails were leaving marks on his shoulders as she mewled out, “Please fuck me, Baron.” Just as she spoke the final syllable, he then rammed his cock all the  way in her, causing her to lurch forward, pressing her chest against his. It gave him leverage to fuck her fiercely yet slowly, as if savoring every moment inside her.

With her mouth pressed against his ear, she was moaning out loud for him which sounded like music to the designer’s ears; whereas his mouth was focused on leaving marks of his desire on her shoulder. “Been wanting you for a while, love,” The Baron rasped out as his thrusts sped up when he felt her walls squeezing onto his thickness even more, “Saw you walk down the ramp at Milan and I just knew,” He groaned mid sentence when she moved away from him and leaned down to kiss him tenderly — a juxtaposition from where his cock was now mercilessly and swiftly entering her tight canal, “Just knew I had to have you.”

The declaration of his admiration had her feeling oddly more confident in herself, “Am I like everything you ever wanted, Baron?” He rapidly nodded before moving his head away to get a good look of her — she was biting her lip, yet it couldn’t contain her delicious whimpers from reaching his ears, whereas with every bounce she made resulted in her breasts hypnotizingly moving along. Enclosing a nipple in his mouth, he pulled on it hard enough for her to rake her hands in his hair and shove him harder against her hardened nub.

“I’m so close, Baron,” She moaned out at the absence of his mouth, but was quickly satisfied when he took on the other nipple. Even without her verbal forewarning, he would have known that with the way it was getting more difficult for his cock to slide in and out of her clenched, wet walls. “Are you gonna claim my cock as yours, darling?”

Feeling the presence of his cock surpass her sweet spot and hit her cervix was too much for her as she weakly nodded, “Want you so bad,” She moaned out as she was starting to feel overwhelmed. The designer could feel his own cock pulse upon seeing her current state; he unwillingly removed his mouth from her now swollen nipples — much to both of their dismay — yet he tried to make up for it by lowering a hand to the front of her pussy, alternating between rubbing and pinching her clit. “I want you to cum for me, love,” He rasped out as his other hand was on her cheek, urging him to focus on him. “Your juices should be running down on my cock, okay?”

Slightly turning her head, she sucked on his thumb as she continued to rock herself harder on his cock — the thought of an impending orgasm sounding wonderful. A gasp escaped her lips when the Baron slapped both her cheek and clit when he did not receive affirmation from her, “I need your answer, darling, will you cum for me like the good girl I know you can be?”

Whether it was her desire to be his or the fact that she just didn’t want that added stimulation, she nodded her head vigorously as she indistinctly muttered, “Gonna cum for you, Baron. Want your cock all for myself.”

Pleased with her response, he then drove his cock in her deeper and harder while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her lips were quivering right under his thumb was tucked in safely. With one particular harsh thrust, she came and bit on his thumb too hard; despite feeling a sharp pain, Zemo smirked and continued to ram his cock in and out of her as he too was on the brink of another orgasm.

As she was placing kitten lick on his thumb as an attempt to calm herself down, she allowed him to take control; it was incredible how much strength he had because with one hand latched on her hips, he was matching the way her body rose and fall matched the pace in which he was fucking her. “I’m never gonna let you go now, darling. You’re all mine now.”

Delighted with that, she removed his thumb in her mouth and looked at him — fondness and lust portrayed through her eyes — and said, “Cum in me, Baron.” As if her words set off a trigger, he came load after load of his cum, painting her walls as his. Panting heavily as he pressed his forehead against hers, taking in the glow that encompassed her entire body.

Lovingly stroking both her cheeks they both smiled at each other; she spoke up first, “I hope you don’t always sleep with your models.” Despite the overwhelming pleasure she had just experienced, she couldn't prevent her from feeling insecure about the repercussions of their little rendezvous. The hairs at the nape of his neck was something she distracted herself with since she was too nervous for his response; tilting her head to get her to meet him eye to eye so he could reassure her, “No, my love, I don’t make it a habit to go and sleep around. Truth be told, from now on I only plan on sleeping with you.”

His line had her chuckling and lightly shoving his shoulder, still in disbelief with the words that left his mouth. “You’re my Persephone, the one I have been searching for; and I have no plans of letting you go,” He spoke and looked at her wholeheartedly and genuinely, hoping that he would solidify his claim and hopefully get her to believe him.

As her lip quivered and eyes watered, she hugged him close and showered every inch of skin of his that she could reach with kisses, “You don’t know how much that means to me, Baron. I, too, would not do the foolish thing of letting you go, ever.”

It was only then that the designer knew what true happiness was as he rubbed her back gently, pushing her body even more closer to him, “You’re with me now, darling, for life. I’ll treat you like the goddess that you are.”

[shhhlikeme]

F*cked Out 💤

Ojiro Aran Domestic Smut (NSFW) part 2

A/N: I wrote this as a Part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone!

18+, Explicit smut, praise kink, Aged up obvs, Timeskip spoilers

Tagging: @saitamastamaticsoup & @chunhua-s b/c these Aran stans found part 1 last night & their comments made me thirsty enough to write a pt. 2. Hope you like it!

also my lovely @qyuanon who I just read is back and I missed her💛

Futilely, you knocked on the door to yours and your man’s home office. Leaning on the frame, you crossed your arms. Being a literal isolationist when you had to work, you never understood why your man liked keeping the office door open. But then he told you once that he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t hear you calling him if the door was closed. ‘What if something happened and I didn’t run to you?’ He had explained, pouting when you laughed at him. It warmed your heart, but you decided not to call his name tonight, instead opting to physically pay him a visit. You had to, because what lead you here in the first place was serious! You had just woken up in the middle of the night because his side of the bed had turned cold. Yeah, that deserved nothing less than a visit from you! 

From your spot in the doorway you could see Ojiro sitting at the grand desk, his back turned to you, the lights from his laptop playing some Team Canada highlights. The screen bluelight shone brightly on his gorgeous dark skin, the back of his head bobbed up and down as he dutifully wrote down any important plays he was seeing so that he could tell his coach tomorrow.

“Babe,” You announced your presence with a soft smile. Your man is such a hard worker and he really doesn’t get enough credit for it. You tighten the robe you were wearing because it was always kind of drafty on this side of the house. “You have a game tomorrow.” 

Your boyfriend, captain of the Japanese National Volleyball Team’s shoulders slumped when he heard you, but he didn’t turn around. 

He didn’t have to.

He never had to. Even though you’ve only been dating for a bit over a year, you two knew each other so well that you could accurately tell exactly what kind of expressions, feelings, and thoughts permeated the other without having to be vis-a-vis. When you first met, your dates were—objectively speaking—oddly silent for the most part. The waitress once asked you if you were uncomfortable through an inconspicuous napkin note, which was kind of her—but the truth was that on that date you were actually more than Okay! It might have seemed odd to an outsider or eavesdropper that no sentences were being finished, and both people on said date were constantly staring down, away, or into each others eyes in silence… but realistically, neither of them could grasp the fact that words weren’t necessary when there existed a connection like yours and Aran’s. 

‘It’s fate. He’s the one.’ You had told your friends after the second date when you realized your mind reading wasn’t a fluke. Because as corny as it sounded then and even now in your memory; it was true, tf. 

Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to kick his ass for letting his side of the bed go cold, though. You were used to Aran being gone for volleyball so you had no problem falling asleep alone, but when you were ecstatic to have him home it was important for him to REMAIN home, which means staying in bed if you fell asleep on his chest! He has never done it before, so This is not Okay!

“I know, baby, I know…” your boyfriend calls to you, scribbling on his notepad faster. “I’m almost done. I-I think their setter could be doing one of two plays to start tomorrow, and I don’t think it’s the one I was sure about before we went to bed. And I mean, we play them until 12pm, so—“

“So nothing. You still have to be up by 6. The stadium is far and knowing you, you won’t sleep on the Team’s bus, you’ll still be watching these videos even then. I’ll—“

“Please don’t tell Iwaizumi-san, he will kick my ass! We’re playing Team Canada tomorrow and they are ranked just under us but—“

“Not by a lot, I know. I understand, but you guys will still pull the win. I know it....because Your team has you.”

Aran chuckled heartily, continuing to scribble with his back still turned, but his voice turned a little more endearing. “Thank you, baby. But.... I can’t seem to sleep tonight... I just can’t. I’ve been up this whole time so I—” As your boyfriend babbled on, you quietly interjected, 

“I know a way to get you to sleep.” 

“—won’t use my laptop in bed and wake you up when you’re sleeping so….wait….what did you—?” 

You smirked, knowing that your man knew why your voice had dropped a few octaves. He knew you were up to something, not because you two could practically read each other’s minds—moreso because you two had already established that that specific tone of voice of yours made his dick hard. The pen he was scribbling with stopped moving, finally, and you could just picture the way he gulped just now. 

“I know you can’t sleep, Ar…..” You made sure he could hear you clearly now, in the voice you only reserved for fuck-me-o’clock. 

A sexy smirk that Ojiro could see without looking at you played in his mind and on your face simultaneously. 

“Yeah?” He asked, his deep voice cracking. 

You kept speaking in that voice with one goal in mind.

“Yes, baby…” You hummed thoughtfully before stating,

“So why don’t you come over here and fuck me so hard it puts you to bed, then?”

Drunk off horniness caused by the amount sex dripping from your voice, the captain of Japan’s National Volleyball Team slowly turned the office chair so that he was facing you. 

Boldly, you turned your back to him at the same time and fiddled your hands that just tightened your robe. This time, instead of tightening it, you loosened the strings fully so your robe was wide open, facing the emptiness of your house. Knowing that your boyfriend was checking out and admiring your ass in that short silk robe and desiring the shock factor—in one motion you tossed the robe over your shoulders so that it pooled at your feet, exposing your completely nude back and backside to your man. 

“🤤 Shit,” Ojiro groaned, sounding as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You just knew your man was biting that full and juicy bottom lip of his.

Swaying your hips to give your man a tiny show, you sauntered precisely where he didn’t want you to: away from him; heading towards the master bedroom. 

You kept yourself from giggling when you heard the aggressive shutting of a laptop, a volleyball announcer being cut off, and a certain volleyball player’s stumbling and cursing because Ojiro was practically chasing you out of the office.

***

“Mmmm…. Fuck..”

A few minutes later, your mind displayed a valiant effort by attempting to guess how your boyfriend looked right now, but it would be in vain. You couldn’t picture your man like you usually could because you were currently being fucked way too fucking well. Ojiro was filling you completely with just half his length, whispering horny-nothings to help you understand his feelings anyway:

“God damn, Y/N… Every. Time. Feels. So. God. Damn. Good,”

Now, If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s face was scrunched up in pleasure right now, a coat of sweat coating his nude dark skin, the skylight over his head allowing the moon to reflect an insanely sexy glow sheen over his muscles due to the perspiration. 

“Auuh there’s nothing better than this, baby…”

If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s head was tilted backwards right now, his mouth slightly ajar as he focused on not cumming inside you within the first few minutes of this because he needed to feel you cum around him first. As always. 

“Not when I hitting a line shot, not when I get a service ace.... nothing feels—auuuh f-uck— better than your pussy, baby girl..…”

If your mind was clear, you’d be able to see Ojiro on his knees behind you, holding your hips in his giant hands while he drove into you from behind, inserting only half his cock in and out like a pro, then surprising you with a fully thrust every now and then when he sheathed all 10 inches inside your heat.

“Mmm, so ti-ight, always so wet… damn,”

Despite your mind being clouded by immense pleasure, however—you did know that you looked absolutely wrecked with your face pressed in the pillow, blindly reaching behind you to tap or wave or pinch or do something to him since you couldn’t speak. You could barely made any sounds other than choked out moans because it felt so spectacular… but you didn’t have to! Aran knew that you wanted your boyfriend to stop playing and give you full strokes. His half thrusts filled and pleasured you more than any one ever could because he was huge and skilled in bed, he knew just how your insides liked to be stroked, but that didn’t stop you from silently pleading to him..

Even if Ojiro wasn’t holding back like always because he was very aware of his size and girth, even if you both knew that it would hurt you the next day like after a good workout, even if you walked funny when you had to attended his Olympic game several hours from now—you fucking needed it.

HE fucking needed it!

“Harder, Ar,” You commanded, “Deeper!”

“Fuck,” Your boyfriend panted, still not giving you what you asked 7 amazing strokes later. 

“Harder, now!” You cried as if you were whispering to the fucking pillow. You hadn’t the strength to lift your head. Your orgasm was fast approaching because HALF your man’s dick was too good and there was no way you weren’t bringing him with you. “Deeper, baby!”

“Y-you su-sure?” He asked worriedly. He always did this shit 🙄. He always worried way too much about your body soreness and way too little about both of your impending orgasms tonight rocking your motherfucking worlds. 

Ugh!

Good boyfriends and their fucked up PRIORITIES, amirite?!

Needless to say, you didn’t have time for compassionate Aran tonight. You needed him to fuck the both of you to sleep the way you knew he was capable of if he stopped holding back. Besides, he should have been in bed hours ago. You had to do this for the sake of the National Team! You had to this for JAPAN! (A/N: lucky b*tch shut your horny ass up)

So that’s why, in response to his asking if you were sure or not, you responded by clenching your insides so that your slick hole squeezed around your boyfriend’s cock. 

As soon as he felt you pulsing impossibly tighter around him as he fucked you halfway, his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck…” He moaned deeply, so of course you continued doing it.

“Shit, Y/N, Okay, Okay,”

Without having to beg for mercy, your man did as you asked him to. He moved his hands from your waist to splay them on each of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to make more room for his member that already barely fit (with your hasty prep and not his tentative one), but especially when your pussy clenched around him like that. With a loud moan from both of you, he bottomed out and stayed there for a bit to get you used to the size. You almost passed out by how good it felt pressing against your g-spot.

When Aran couldn’t take it anymore, and he started giving it to you: hard, fast, and deep. 

“Ye, baby, make room for me just like this…..” He moaned, gripping your ass tighter. “You want all of me? You think your tight hole can handle all of me?” He asked, no growled, still giving shallow but gratifying thrusts.

You whimpered, knowing that Ojiro knew the answer to that. Even so, you egged him on, “Sh-Show me why you’re the best top,” playing into your dirty talk from the last time y’all had sex like this but he was under you. 

Your boyfriend let out a long groan in his smooth deep voice and picked up his pace in reaponse, sending a new wave of wetness to your private. You were so soaked down there that it sounded like y’all were having sex in the bath tub, fuck. 

Your man loved it. 

“Mmmm, —m’ close beautiful,” He called, snapping his hips forward to meet you g-spot again and again. “It’s you, baby, it’s you,” Your man groaned. “Your pussy feels too fucking good……. I’d never pull out if I had to co-couldd,” 

“Oh, God. Aran!" You moaned loudly due to his dirty talk and praise, teetering on the edge of your release. Knowing that you maybe had 30 seconds left if you focused, you must have decided that you didn’t want to walk tomorrow at all because being the weakness of your bf you are, from your position being pounded into the sheets, you propped yourself up on your weak arms so that you could use the fact that your elbows were digging into the mattress as leverage to push your body back so that you met Aran’s deep thrusts. 

Like your boyfriends does every rare time he’s able to see your glorious ass bounce on his hard dick, his eyes flew open and he felt as though he’d been transported to heaven itself. 

“Y/N—auh, s-so sexy, aah, ooh, ohhh, fuck, Y/N,”

entranced, Aran couldn’t even last another second before he was stopping your movements with his hands, sliding them back on your hips to hold you still as his orgasm took his muscular frame by storm. He saw stars.

Of course, his orgasm triggered yours immediately, and you cried your man’s name as you came on his dick. He whispered yours as your insides milked him without influence this time, effectively lengthening your man’s finish. Panting, Aran just barely caught himself before his now exhausted body toppled over you. 

His last wakeful act, being the gentleman that he is, was to roll over so he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight, pulling out at the same time. 

You wondered if he registered that he said, “thank you baby,” before he began softly snoring—a sign that he was completely worn out and sleeping.

You smiled softly to yourself when you heard his snores, finally turning when you caught your own breath, to fully see your boyfriend’s stunning face. You endearingly brushed his goatee with the tips of your fingers, turning his sleeping face to yours so you could peck his lips. Then, you just barely had the leg strength to stand up on limbs that barely worked, removing his condom for him, then using the furniture in your room to support you as you cleaned the two of you up. You almost fell asleep standing up as you used a cloth on the two of you. Five minutes later, you were back in bed, under the covers with your lover and amazing man. 

Usually, Ojiro Aran slept like the dead (when he first moved in you occasionally have to check if he was still breathing...) , but you knew now that if he snored, that was a sign that he was so fatigued. You knew about the snoring, but the talking was new to you. Ojiro was so deep in his sleep after that round, that he was talking to himself in his slumber, whispering sweet-nothings about you that you’d never let him know he vocalized to spare him the embarrassment.

Besides, he didn’t say anything too embarrassing.... and you knocked out as soon as your head met his chest, not even feeling his arm sweetly wrap around your waist to pull you closer. So, you didn’t even hear most of his sleep-talk.

And maybe you were right when you called it fate, that drove the two of you.... because if it wasn’t fate that had you place your head on Aran’s chest at that exact moment, if it wasn’t fate that made you fall asleep at that exact moment..... then, I mean, you would have heard Ojiro not a second later declare aloud that he’s hiding your engagement ring in the office’s cabinet drawer. You would have heard theis the real reason he wasn’t able to fall asleep: because he was so nervous about asking for your hand in marriage before his Japan vs. Canada game tomorrow, when you least expected it.

Cause like, well, that totally would have ruined the surprise.

But you did fall asleep. Fate did that. So him sleep talking honestly never really happened.

And you know what else never happened? 

You never had to feel the cold side of the bed again where your man should be, at least not that night, because Aran Ojiro your new fiancée’s body kept it warm all night, because you were great and helping him fall asleep like a baby....making him just that:

 f*cked out. 

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

a flower for a flower

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: smut (i want to say pure smut, but i also ramble a lot, so it’s not just smut—close to it though), food innuendos and other cheesy things, fluff, harry in his pimp daddy outfit, oral (f & m receiving), exhibitionism (mentions of voyeurism), teasing, soft!dom feels, praising kink, a couple of good girls thrown in there

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: a walk on the beach leads to more 

author’s note: hi, i hope you're doing well :) sorry the synopsis sucks, but you know what i mean! xx hope you enjoy

masterlist

—

She’d never been the type to like the beach.

Granted, she had never been to an actual beach, like the ocean kind of beach, until she was well into her twenties, but that’s beside the point.

Then, she met Harry.

Harry, someone who has nothing but kindness and love in his soul, open for anyone who’s willing to take him, scared her when they first met. She has always been anxious, riddled with insecurities and tension, and to meet someone who breathed and exuded nothing but unadulterated confidence was absolutely terrifying. At that moment in time, she thought she could never be with someone who was like that, thinking that it would be difficult to keep up with someone like him.

And she was never one to take risks.

She will be forever grateful for finding someone who is able to open her eyes and give her the opportunity to see and do things that she never even dreamed about. It definitely helps that he is the way he is. She doesn’t think she would have ever found the courage to be the woman she is today without him being just him, kind and patient.

Now, the beach is their safe place. The ocean is their escape from the world around them, a peaceful place for them to simply be with each other.

It’s a little past noon, the sun high in the clear sky, with only a couple of clouds shrouding the beautiful day. She’s been sitting on the sidelines underneath a fluttering umbrella, working on some unfinished assignments she has for her classes. She hasn’t gotten much work done, however, not only because she gets easily distracted in general but also because of the teasing looks Harry shoots her.

She watches him through large sunglasses, a chipping gold coloured wire surrounding fading pink lenses, as he sits at the table once again, setting down a plate of watermelon atop the terribly ugly tablecloth. He told her how important this shot was before when they were driving to the beach location. With jittery hands and giddy eyes, he told her about how it was going to be the teaser that would be posted a couple days before the big release. Getting the “perfect” shot hasn’t been going too well, especially since Harry knocked over the glass of orange juice in the very first take.

Despite his pleas and the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes, she declined his offer to be a part of the video, opting to sit and watch from afar. She has never been one to put herself into any situation that forced the attention more on herself than necessary. Besides, when their relationship is in the public eye (it’s, sadly, an inevitable part of their journey), she doesn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about their relationship, that she’s simply using him to better herself.

The director calls for a quick lunch break before the next couple of scenes, and Harry took it as an opportunity to spend some time with her, having been distracted and busy for the better part of the day. He tugs her up from the worn chair, a brittle little thing that had been sitting in the patio of her rental house for what looks like centuries (she was honestly surprised when it didn’t crumble beneath her). Watching their footprints spread and sink and die beneath merciless waves as the tide rolls further and further in, they walk to a more isolated part of the beach.

A pair of green sunglasses, large and shaped like hearts, are perched on his head, pulling back the stray curls that always seem to fall onto his forehead, and the necklace she gave him for their anniversary sticks to the skin of his chest, just barely tucked beneath low swooping neck of a dark orange tank amongst an array of dozens of dangling charms and shells.

His eyes are crinkled form the blaring sun, but he still doesn’t move the glasses from his hairline; they don’t cover much of anything anyhow. His feet are still bare as he kicks through the sand, swinging their connected hands between them. The sun beats down on his freckled shoulders, and he savors the warmth. She stops suddenly and turns to face him, a faint smile creeping over her features as her nails tease across the green stitching of the tank.

“Ya know,” she begins, making him turn to face her. He has such a sweet little grin on his face, and she can’t help but melt at the sight. It never gets tiring being able to see Harry in his element.

He’s been beaming since they woke up this morning, especially since she told him she would be joining him at today’s shoot. While his other songs are very dear to him, they don’t hold a candle to Watermelon Sugar because it was made because of her; it was a culmination of everything he’s been through in the past two years, the highs and the lows.

It signifies his new beginnings with her.

When he met her, on that dry summer night, she made everything seemingly fall into place. And later that night, after a couple bottles of wine and a riveting game of twenty questions, he kissed her, her lips, soft and supple, tasting like cheap moscato and strawberries, and he felt like he was breathing for the first time; it was all very new and exciting and dangerous. He knew, after having just gotten out of a relationship, he shouldn’t put his heart so entirely on his sleeve, for fear of having it absolutely shattered. He fell for her hard and fast, despite his reservations and fears and common sense.

Looking back on it now, he’s glad he didn’t listen to his common sense. Then, he wouldn’t be walking with his soulmate on a beach now.

“You look really hot in this,” she says, her hands smoothing along his hips before connecting right above the curve of his bum. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing along the heated skin.

“Yeah?” His lips curl into a teasing smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she returns the light tone, her nose just barely grazing against his. When she catches his lips, they’re sweet and sticky. She holds him steady by the cheeks, feeling the slight stubble. Hands grasped tightly to her bunched dress, he backs her up against a rock as her hands travel toward any piece of open skin she can feel, from his biceps to the tips of his fingers digging into her waist. She feels a rush of anxiety settles in her stomach as he hikes up her dress around her waist, his crotch grinding into hers.

While they used to fill her with dread, these nerves leave her eager and wanton, and she wants so badly to melt into him and have him take her however he wants, but that little voice, the one that always reminded her of every little thing that could possibly go wrong, is screaming at her to stop him. Harry, ever the pusher, who holds her hand and guides her through the things that she never thought she would before, would tell her to shove those fears back, that this is their moment to just be and live, just him and her, together.

Through her inner turmoil, she still focuses on her sensible side, and she hesitates.

“H,” she moans, tugging on his hair. He presses his lips to her neck, tongue dipping out to wet her skin, tasting, savoring her.

“Not that I’m not… loving what you’re doing, but—” Her voice breaks a little as he nibbles and sucks just below her jaw. “We could get caught,” she says breathily, and he pulls back, his hands still tucked in the hollow of her neck and her waist.

Despite the beach being very private, she can’t help but be worried that someone would catch them in such an intimate way, but he just gives her a comforting smile, their fingers interlacing at her hip, and she can feel her worries melt away. She still can barely believe that he can make nearly all of her nerves dissipate with just a simple look or touch.

“Isn’t that a part of the fun?”

Her heart jumps into her throat. Now, all she can think about how someone could catch them at any moment; all she can think about is how stupid and reckless it is for them, especially for him. It’s risky and nerve wracking, but her pussy still throbs in her underwear, wetness seeping into the already stained fabric. She could only imagine the person’s surprise if they rounded the corner to see him on his knees before her, her fingers tracing through his still wet hair as he works his mouth on her.

They’re hidden behind a set of pale rocks, plentifully dotted with dark moss. He nearly covers her, his thick arms resting on the rocks behind her, blanketing her in his shadow. He grinds his hips into her. She tucks a hand beneath the dark orange top, her thumb running along the fleshy meat of his hips, his sun kissed skin smooth beneath her touch. He spreads kisses down to that same weak spot beneath her jaw, still tender from his earlier ministrations.

“Okay,” she hums, finally sinking into him. Despite the heat from the burning sun, she embraces him, tugging and pulling him closer until they’re nestled close, chest to chest, his knee settled between her spread thighs, against the rock behind her.

“You jus’ gotta be quiet,” he mumbles.

That makes her chuckle.

“Me? I’m the loud one?”

Compared ot beginning of their relationship, she has learned how to be more expressive and emotive and assertive when it comes to sex, often telling him exactly what she needs, how she needs it, and when, but she still isn’t near as loud or talkative as he is. He could chatter her ear off about any just anything while he’s fucking her. Initially, it was odd; sex was never an experience she considered to be something that was really open or comfortable, if that makes sense. She always saw it as something that was supposed to be taken very seriously, and it was somewhat of a personal experience, despite it being between two people.

But, perhaps, that was just her anxiety telling her that it’s not a good idea, or it was because of her innermost fear of embarrassing herself.

However, it’s moments like these, where she can barely comprehend the world around her, only being able to move her head slightly, the words completely caught in her throat, that she’s glad that he talks her through everything; she’s glad that she can bear witness to the filthy words that leave his lips, words that make her tremble and quake with anticipation.

He cups her through thin panties, his nails tracing her swollen lips. His rings offer a different kind of friction, one she yearns for, rigid and relentless. She hooks a knee around his waist, and he cups the back of her thigh, the cotton of her dress pooling around his elbow. He pushes the panties to the side with his free hand.

“Your poor little peach,” he pouts teasingly, voice soft. He pinches her puffy clit, and her hips buck against the sudden, harsh touch. “So wet and swollen. ‘M sorry, babylove. If I knew you were feelin’ tingly, would’ve taken this walk earlier.”

He kisses behind her ear, fingers spreading her wetness over her folds, paying special attention to her painfully hard button, throbbing and aching from his faint brushes across her sensitive skin. She whines, head sinking against the rocks, eyes fluttering closed. He pulls her lips apart, until she’s full open to him, her tight, clenching hole seeping with arousal.

“What got you this worked up, lovie?”

Her thighs tremble and shake, her knees threatening to give at any moment.

“Was thinking about… you,” she admits softly, sweetly, and she can feel his bulge thicken just a little more against her.

“Me?” He has an incredulous tone, but the darkening edge to the laughter that punctuates it makes her thighs close around his hand. “Little ol’ me?” A flare of pink has started to form on the rounds of his cheeks, probably from the sun, but it looks cute on him.

“What were you thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“This,” she chokes out. That’s all she can really say at this point. With the pressured circles he’s kneading into her poor, swollen clit, she can’t think coherently. It’s not enough to make her come yet, but it’s enough to keep her satiated, just enough for her to teeter on the brink of insanity.

“Dirty girl,” he says, “thinking ‘bout me eating your pretty little peach out here, where anyone could see, your honey drippin’ down your thighs.” She clenches, aching and throbbing at his words. She can feel her arousal slip down her thighs. “Anyone could see us out here, sweetness.” He tuts, tapping the tips of his fingers against her poor bud, her hips buck at the slight friction, and she whines pitifully.

“Or is that what you wanted?”

He cocks his brow. He strokes his fingers along her swollen lips, nails slightly grazing the tender, pink inside, which makes her hips jolt into his touch. Breathing ragged, the meat of her thighs tense from his gentle touches, teasing and fleeting.

“Maybe you wanted someone to see us. You wanted them to watch me make you come with my mouth. Maybe they’ll think about those pretty noises you make while they come. Is that what you wanted?”

He sinks two fingers into her sopping pussy, stretching and filling her, and she cries out at the sudden relief. The burning ache inside her is quelled just a little bit more as he curls his fingers into her little spot. She slips, the rough rocks grating against the skin of her bare back; the pain lingers and heightens her senses, the throbbing pleasure from his movements sinking deep into her bones. He catches her before she can fall, knee still holding her up.

“Yes,” she whines, grinding into him. He sinks to his knees.

“So pretty, babylove,” he praises as he pulls back the hood of her clit. “Such a perfect little peach.” Suckling and nibbling at her swollen bud, her hips buck in time with his lips. He runs the flat of his tongue along the underside of her clit, her taste making his cock stir in his pants. Her walls clench around his fingers, sucking and pulling him deeper inside her. He pulls his lips back, his thumb pressing harshly into her bud, a stark contrast to the warmth from his mouth. He kisses the inside of her trembling thigh.

“Can you take another?”

She nods desperately, her hips grinding against him. He easily slips another finger, and he smiles as more arousal seeps down to his wrist.

“Never taken three, have ya? My good girl, so fuckin’ wet f’me,” he says, pulling at her swollen button with his free hand.

“What else were you thinkin’ ‘bout?”

She struggles to speak, her world still spinning and blurred from her impending orgasm. Her pussy tightens near painfully around his ring-clad fingers.

“Tell me,” he coaxes her, fingers fucking into her at a brutal pace, leaving her breathless and incoherent. She mumbles something through broken whines, her heaving chest stuttering. She can’t even keep her eyes open as she chases her coming high, her wetness squelching between his fingers.

“What was that?”

“Wanna choke on your cock,” she says through ragged moans. He smirks against her thigh.

“You want me to pull your hair back and tell you how much of a good girl you are while you take my cock in your pretty little mouth?”

“Yes, please,” she whines. She can actually feel her mouth water at the thought of shoving his cock deep in her throat with him moaning and claiming her and taking what he wants.

“Come for me, babylove, and then, you can have my cock,” he coos.

Her high takes over her with a burning fire, igniting every vessel in her body with ecstasy, sending waves of tremors and chills through her muscles, until it settles to smoldering embers, leaving her hungry and eager for him. She tugs him into a biting kiss, teeth tugging at his teasing lips. She wants to rip that orange top from him to feel his glistening skin against her, from the hardness of his chest to the soft little pooch that settles around his hips and stomach. She can’t now, but she’ll definitely have to play out that fantasy some other time.

He sits on his bum, the burning sand shifting and settling up around his thick thighs, but he doesn’t take much notice in that as she pushes his thighs apart, eagerly tugging his pants down. There’s a pretty red, nearly purple, hue to the head of his cock, precum slipping from the slit.

The fabric of his pants bunch up tightly underneath his balls, but it offers the perfect amount of pressure whenever his hips buck up. Her tongue traces along her lips, bitten and puffy, her eager eyes taking in everything he has to offer. His cock jumps a little under her gaze.

“Take it, lovie,” he moans.

And take it she does.

She licks the little divot of his balls, wetting the pliable skin before massaging her thumb into him, the way she knows he likes it. His eyes roll back. She presses the head into the soft skin of her cheek, making them puffed and protrude. She sinks further and further down, her wet lips tight and absolutely perfect against him.

“So pretty, baby,” he sighs, eyes fluttering closed as her throat tightens around him. Her teeth just slightly graze the throbbing vein on the bottom part of his shaft, making him twitch.

She grips tightly onto his pleated pants, twisting the thin fabric in little fists as she takes him entirely this time, choking her. Saliva dribbles from her lips to the swell of his balls, and he cups them, spreading the wetness over his sensitive skin. When she lets up, a string trails from her lips to the throbbing head.

“Such a good girl f’me,” he moans, brushing some wetness from her chin. He can feel himself twitch again at the sight of her, lashes clinging together with unshed tears, lips soft and plump and wet—she looks ethereal, absolutely divine. Her breasts are pressed tightly together, shifting slightly with every move of her wrist.

“My best girl.”

She jerks him in quick, wet strokes, the obscene sounds nearly muffled by the crashing waves nearby. A swell of wind brushes through, rustling his hair, and it sends chills down his spine, leaving his thighs quivering.

“Gonna come?” His sweet’s voice is raw and wrecked, and it makes him throb. She breathes sharply through her teeth, wiping her lips crudely with the back of her hand. She lets a thick drop of saliva slip past puckered lips and onto his swollen cock, and his hips jolt up as it trails teasingly down the ridges until it stops in her hand at the base of his cock, nestled tightly against the fine curls. Her other hand teases along the tip, just barely slipping it through her loose fist.

“Please, wanna taste it,” she whimpers, and he swears he could black out. His body is overwhelmed by his racing heart; he can feel it everywhere, from his ears to the tips of his toes, blood rushes through him, heating his skin. She wraps her lips tightly around the head, her cheeks hollowed, and she looks at him with hooded eyes, begging, pleading with him.

Her tongue suckles at that special spot on the underside of the tip that makes him see stars. With trembling hands brushing back the flyaways from her forehead and his face scrunching up, eyes closed, a toe-curling, all-consuming orgasm rushes through him and leaves his hips bucking and skin sticky. She laps at his cum, her pretty, puffy lips still wrapped around him to coax him through his high.

He pulls her up, his hands cupping the back of her neck, and she straddles him, his softening prick lying between them, still twitching slightly. He tugs her lips onto his, molding them together with swollen lips, saliva, and sweetness, twinged with salt and sex. He pulls their lips apart to finally catch his breath, but she continues to press her lips to his tender skin, her comforting kisses bringing him out of his euphoria induced lull.

A cute little purple flower catches the corner of his eye. It’s the only one sprouting beneath a heavy layer of sand, just barely peeking beyond the surface. He picks it.

“A flower for my flower,” he says sweetly, and she takes it, her eyes soft. She looks it over.

“I’m pretty sure this is a weed,” she laughs, rolling the stem between her fingers, and his eyes widen in offence.

“No, it’s a native wildflower.” He tries to defend himself, but she isn’t having it, soft billows of laughter falling from her swollen, wet lips. He pouts. “Fine, then, jus’ take my gift and completely squander it.”

Ever the dramatic one.

She stands up, brushing the sand that accumulated in the folds of her dress.

“Put your cock away. We should head back before everyone gets suspicious,” she says.

“After everything I do for you, you still make me put my own cock away,” he scoffs, teasing smile still curled over his features. He shakes his head.

“Last time I did, you said I was bein’ too rough,” she says, brow cocked and hip jutted. He concedes to her and tucks himself back into his slacks. “C’mon, sugar butt,” she says, pulling him onto his feet. He stumbles, standing more onto the heels of his feet to get used to the heat of the sand. She has the flower tucked behind her ear.

If anyone noticed their beaming smiles or their rumbled clothes or the scratchiness to her voice, they don’t say anything. They don’t say anything then, or when Y/N parts from him with a quick peck on the cheek and a pinch to his bum. They don’t say anything when he gives her even more teasing glances when he’s in front of the camera or when he stops by her after a quick wardrobe change and gives her a deep kiss, followed by a whispered promise of more to come.

—

[javajunkieao3]

Never Have I Ever: Post-Series Fic

Ben Gross prided himself on being smart.  And falling in love with Devi Vishwakumar?  Well, that was just about the dumbest thing he could do.

           But, it happened anyway.

           He didn’t exactly know when, but somewhere between first grade and watching her dance with that tool, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, she had gone from the person he always wanted to beat to someone he genuinely hoped would win.  Because she deserved that.  After everything she went through with her dad and then everything after, she deserved a win.

           But, did that win have to be him?

           “Of course, it’s him,” Ben said, voice colored with defeat and just a hint of indignation.  He still hated losing.  Even if he technically wasn’t in this game.  Aneesa was waiting for him over by the punch.  “It’s always been him.”  

           Beside him, Eleanor said, “What?  No, it hasn’t.  After you took her to Malibu, she wanted to choose you.”

           Ben listened incredulously as Eleanor explained how she and Fabiana had talked Devi out of choosing him.  It was fucked up, and he was going to tell her as much, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Devi, imagining how different things would have been. It would have been him with her, not that glorified meat puppet.

           “So, just for the record, it hasn’t always been him.”

           Eleanor walked off after dropping her figurative bomb and he stayed rooted in place, not knowing what to do or think next.  He wasn’t used to this level of indecisiveness and he probably would have just stayed there, staring at Devi dance with another guy, if Aneesa hadn’t come over, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

           “Hey, I thought you were meeting me over by the punch,” she said, glancing over at where he had just been staring.  “Oh wow, good for Devi.”

           Aneesa looked up at Ben, noting the tense set of his jaw.  “But…you don’t think that.”

           “What?” he said immediately, finally looking away from the slow train wreck happening across the dance floor.  “I don’t care about them.  I mean, he’s a tool who, based on what I’ve seen, can barely read above an eighth grade level.  But, I don’t care.”

           “Uh, yeah, you do.”

           “Aneesa-“

           “Ben, I saw the way you were looking at them. At her.”

           He went to argue, but then realized he had no defense.  Aneesa ducked her chin to her chest.

           “Okay.  So, I guess I’m going to go now.”  She turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back.  “Don’t mess this up for her?”

           He didn’t know what he hated more, the implication that he would mess things up or the fact that Aneesa was maybe a little right. The song ended and he watched Paxton and Devi kiss before Paxton dipped his mouth to her ear.  Devi nodded at whatever he said, and then Paxton walked away, not letting go of her hand until the distance made it necessary.  Devi’s grin widened and Ben hated Paxton even more.

           Devi stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, seeming blissfully content, and then she caught his gaze.  Ben noticed that her grin dimmed slightly and then she walked over, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

           “Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she began.

           “No, actually, you don’t.”

           She widened her eyes slightly.  “Okay.  Then, what are you going to say?”

           I know you wanted to choose me.

           “I’m happy for you, Devi.”

           It wasn’t what she expected, and not what he wanted, so they both felt out of sorts.  But then her shoulders slackened, a genuine smile spreading on her face, and Ben knew he did the right thing.  Because she deserved the win.  Even if it wasn’t him.

           “Thanks, Ben.”

           Paxton came over with two glasses of punch and handed Devi one, his now free arm going around her waist.  He gave Ben a lukewarm hello which, given their history, wasn’t entirely unfounded.

           “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Devi said.

           “See you around, David.”

           Paxton looked at him strangely, but Devi only smiled wider.

-----

           There were only a few weeks left in the school year after the dance, and Ben did his best to keep his distance from Devi.  She hovered a bit after learning about his and Aneesa’s breakup, but then they all got busy with finals and then the schoolyear ended.  Ben was grateful for the time apart.  He didn’t know how long it took to fall out of love with someone, but he figured summer break’s three Devi-free-months should do the trick.

           That summer, he lined up a volunteer program to pad his college applications just like every other summer.  He was supposed to help out with pro bono work at his dad’s firm, but at the last minute his dad hired a law clerk instead so that he could bill out his time at a markup.  So, he was stuck with a retirement home.  Everyone volunteered at retirement homes, which meant it was the last thing Ben wanted to put on his resume.  But, there was nothing else left and it was better than nothing, so he grudgingly accepted a spot at one about fifteen minutes from his house and prepared himself for a summer of moth balls and stories about “the war”.

           Instead, he got Devi.

           “I thought you were working at your dad’s firm this summer,” Devi said.

           “Something came up.  Weren’t you supposed to do Habitat for Humanity?”

           Devi nodded.  “I had an incident with a hammer.  Apparently, you aren’t supposed to bedazzle it.”

           Ben smirked.  “You bedazzled your hammer?”

           “Oh, yeah.  I added feathers, too.  Honestly, it was an upgrade.”

           “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to take you,” he mocked.

           Devi shrugged.  “Probably for the best.  I mean, would you want a house built by me?”

           “You make a fair point.”

           “So, here we are,” Devi said.  “Slumming it at the retirement home.”

           “You may want to say that a little louder.  I don’t think the guy in the back with the hearing aid heard you.”

           “But, you know what, if anyone can make the best out this, it’s you and me, Gross.”

           She flashed him a smile and he felt it all the way down to his toes.  This was going to be a long three months.

----

           It turned out, Ben was surprisingly adept at being around old people, and Devi was an immediate crowd pleaser.

           “Even Marvin likes me,” Devi said.  “And I’m pretty sure he’s a low-key racist.”

           “Not that low key.  He specifically asked me to help him fill out a banking form yesterday because, as he put it, your people are good at that.”

           “Damn.  Remind me to not give him an extra pudding cup.”

           One of the long-time residents, Gladys, rolled by with her walker and said, “Benjamin, don’t forget my granddaughter is visiting this afternoon.  I told her all about you.”

           “I won’t forget, Gladys.”

           “Look at you, Benjamin.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Using the residents to get a date.  Honestly, it’s sort of genius.  If I wasn’t dating Paxton, I would totally use these guys to pimp myself out.”

           “Slow down, David.  Gladys came to me about her granddaughter.  I’m not that desperate.  I have options.”

           “Sure, you do, Ben.”

           “But, um, you and Paxton?  That’s going well?”

           He didn’t know why he asked.  You don’t ask the girl you’re in love with how her relationship is going, but he asked, and now he had no choice but to hear the answer.

           “Yeah, it is,” Devi said.  She tucked her hair behind her ears as she smiled, and Ben wished he could sink directly down into the ground.

           “That’s great.”

           “Yeah.  It is.”

           That afternoon, he asked Gladys’ granddaughter out on a date.

----

           Ben could always tell when Devi and Paxton were fighting by her mood.  She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and while in a relationship, that hadn’t changed.  He noticed it a few weeks in.  She went back into the employees’ area and shoved her bag forcefully into the cubby hole.

           “Did the cubby hole do something to you?” he asked.

           “No,” she said stubbornly.  “The cubby hole is doing nothing.  Which is the problem.  The cubby hole just sits there playing video games all day.  Which, sure, I can play some Mario Kart here and there.  I’m a team player.  But, at a certain point, enough with the stupid video games.  I am not dating freaking Yoshi!”

           Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know a cubby hole had apposable thumbs to play video games.”

           She shot him a look, but then couldn’t help but laugh.

           “The cubby hole was a metaphor.”

           “Yeah, I caught on to that.”

----

           Ben found it remarkably easy to be around her, even as his feelings stayed rooted to the core, and at a certain point he became resigned to it all.  Maybe Devi was just one of those people he would always have feelings for.  Isn’t that what they said about your first love?  You could move on, but you never really forgot it.  So, he would love her and just move on.

           He dated Gladys’ granddaughter, enjoying himself but never really feeling anything beneath surface level.  But, she was nice enough, and Gladys was delighted by the pairing, even as the volunteer coordinator was not.

           “Just don’t have sex anywhere on property,” she had said in a huff.

           “I, uh, won’t.  Thanks for the clarification.”

           He was dating someone else.  He and Devi were finally sort of back to how they were before.  And then he accidentally ate pecans.

           “Oh my God, Ben, your mouth is getting huge,” Devi said, eyes wide with concern.

           “I am so sorry,” Gladys’ granddaughter said. “I thought the muffin was banana-walnut, not banana-pecan.”

           “Do you have an Epi-Pen or something?”  Devi barked at the terrified looking volunteer coordinator.

           “No, and even if we did, I don’t think we can technically use it on a non-resident.”

           “Are you freaking kidding me right now?  Do you see him?”  She pointed at Ben, whose face was rapidly growing in size.  “You know what, I’ll just handle it myself.”

           Devi dragged him out to her car, which was concerning since he knew she only just got her license the week before, and he also knew based on what she told him that her passing was a total fluke.  

           “I think I’d rather go into anaphylactic shock in there,” he said, already turning back toward the retirement home.

           “Don’t be dumb, Ben,” she said, forcefully pulling him back to the car.  “You are not going into anaphylactic shock.  I’ll take you to my mom’s office and she can give you a shot or something. She’s only a few minutes away.”

           He reluctantly got into the car, and Devi started her car, forgetting to put it into reverse before she pressed on the gas. The car lurched forward, nearly hitting the one parked in front of them, and Ben said, “Please don’t let me die in this car.”

           “No one is dying today, Ben Gross.  So, calm down, okay?  I got this.”

           It was not exactly a smooth ride, but true to her word, five minutes later they pulled into a parking spot in front of Dr. Vishwakumar’s office.  They burst into the office, Ben now leaning a bit on Devi as it became harder to breath.

           “I’m pretty sure I’m going into anaphylactic shock,” he gasped.

           “No, you are not.  You are fine.”  Devi’s words were calm, but her tone was not.

           Nalini Vishwakumar walked out of her office and stopped short when she saw Devi and Ben.

           “What in the world – Benjamin, what happened to your face?”

           “He ate pecans which, turns out, he’s also allergic to,” Devi said quickly.  “Can you give him a shot or something?”

           “Devi, you should have taken him to the emergency room!” Nalini said, rushing over to her daughter and Ben and bringing them back to an examination room.

           “The hospital was farther away.”

           Ben became to gasp for breath and Nalini hissed, “He’s going into anaphylactic shock.”

           Ben could barely breathe, but he managed a, “Told you.”

           “Well, how was I supposed to know!”  Devi said loudly.

           One shot of epinephrine and an IV full of antihistamines and cortisone later, Ben could breathe again, but Nilani made him stay for a while longer so that she could observe him.  She put he and Devi in one of the unused examination rooms, and told them to let her know if he had any more trouble breathing.  Devi sat next to him, her knees pulled tight into her chest.

           “I’m sorry that I almost killed you.”

           “You’re not getting valedictorian that easily.”

           He was joking because, yeah, his throat had almost closed up and she probably should have taken him to the hospital and not her mom’s office, but it was fine now.  Except, when he looked over at Devi, she still looked scared.  After a beat, she launched herself toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.  

           “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back.  “I’m okay.”

           She pulled away and gave his arm a light punch. “You really scared me.”

           “Yeah, well, next time I’ll double check my banana-walnut muffin actually has walnuts.”

           “And I’ll believe you when you say your throat is closing up.”

           Devi’s phone rang and he saw Paxton’s name flash on the screen.  He asked her, “Do you need to get that?”

           He watched her hesitate before sending it to voicemail.

----

           Devi and Paxton broke up a week later.  He found out from one of the retirement home residents, who he overheard telling Devi, “You’re better off, Devi.  Take it from an old woman.  You have the rest of your life to be with one person.  Now is the time to be free.  Sow your wild oats, if you will.”

           “Um, I don’t really know what that last part means, but I feel you.  I mean, I’m too young and hot to be tied down, right?”

           “Exactly.  You know, I have a grandson you might be interested in.  He’s pre-med.”

           “I appreciate the offer, Beatrice.  And offering me your grandson after I just broke up with my boyfriend?  Savage. But, I think I need to take some time by myself.”

           That afternoon during bingo, Ben casually brought up the breakup after calling out B-27.

           “Are you okay?” he asked.

           “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.  She ran the machine and picked out the next ball.  “B-13!”  She put the ball down and said in a regular volume voice, “We just didn’t have that much in common.”

           “Yeah, I bet,” Ben said automatically.

           “Wow, okay,” Devi said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound reassuring.

           “I didn’t mean,..” he trailed off, because he kind of did.  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”  He paused and picked up the next ball.  “N-7!”

           “Bingo!”

----

           Summer was coming to a close, and so was their time at the retirement home.  For some reason, Ben felt an impending sense of dread.  Sure, he would still see Devi, but it would be different.  Everyone else would be added back to the mix, including Paxton.  

           Their last big event at the retirement home was a movie night.  They set up a projector in one of the recreation rooms and made it up like an old theater, complete with velvet ropes and individual little bags of popcorn. They even wore old-timey usher costumes they rented from a local costume shop.

           “Does yours also smell like nachos?”  Devi asked.

           “Yeah.  I’m trying not to think about it.”

           The movie was It Happened One Night, and Devi and Ben sat in the back, watching the movie along with the residents.  It was secretly one of Ben’s favorites.  He and his mom had spent little time together when he was growing up, but she shared with him her love of old movies.

           It was the Jericho scene, where Clark Gable’s character was setting up a sheet between him and Claudette Colbert in their motel room.  He stripped down to just his undershirt, and Devi mused, “Clark Gable was super bangable.”

           “Shh,” Ben said.  “This is my favorite part.”

           Devi looked over at him and grinned.  Feeling her gaze, he glanced over and felt his breath stop when their eyes met.  They were close, and in the darkness her eyes seemed to glow.  He always thought she had pretty eyes.  Even before, when he hated her more times than he liked her. He felt an urge to lean forward. It would be so easy.  Just the slightest lean and his mouth would be against hers.  But, that would just be a kiss in the back of a dark room.  He wanted more.

           “Eleanor told me that you wanted to choose me after Malibu.”

           She blinked rapidly.  “What?”

           “After you scattered your dad’s ashes.  She said you wanted to choose me, but they made you also consider Paxton.”

           “Okay.”

           “Is that true?”

           Devi didn’t answer, so he kept talking.

           “And she said that you started the rumor about Aneesa because you thought that we were dating and you were jealous.  And, you see, I’ve had it in my mind all this time that it was always Paxton.  And that I was, I don’t know, some detour on the way, but-“

           “You were not a detour,” Devi said immediately. “You were…you were perfect.  And I messed us up.”

           “So, Eleanor was telling the truth?”

           Devi nodded.  “Yeah, she was.”

           Ben took a deep breath.  “Devi.  I’m going to kiss you now.”

           She nodded, all business, but he could hear the nerves in her voice when she said, “Okay.  Thank you for the advanced warning.”

           He leaned in and captured her mouth with his.  The kiss was sweet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.  And in a way, they did.  There was a noise behind them, and they pulled apart abruptly.  Their supervisor stood over them and said, "Remember what I said about no sex on property?"

"Are you kidding me right now?"  Devi said.  "Who is having sex in these gross costumes?"

"You'd be surprised."

The supervisor walked away, and Devi looked at Ben.  "You don't think she meant..."

"I think she absolutely did."

"I need to take this off immediately."

[kjhmyg]

rough edges pt. 4 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk warnings: mentions of drugs, implied sex word count: 11K

1 / 2 / 3 / Part 4 / 5

author’s note: no smut in this chapter folks, but i’m posting the next one real soon and you better hold on to your panties for that one. i wanted to show more of jungkook’s pov in this one. enjoy! 

Jungkook makes a bee line in the direction of the toilets. He turns the corner at the far end of the dance floor and enters a long corridor. He turns right in the direction of the men’s room, then stops halfway, leaning against the wall that separates the area from the dance floor. The music isn’t as loud here and he sighs, being able to hear his own thoughts for the first time tonight. A couple of other club goers walk past him. He waits for them to be out of sight before digging into the inner pocket of his jacket, taking out his phone. Swiping the screen, he finds multiple notifications of text messages from you. He’s smiling before he even opens them. 

They’re mostly pictures of you, back home, where you’re spending Christmas and New Year’s. You’ll only be back in two weeks and he’s counting down the days till then. When you mentioned going home for the holidays, he looked a little down. Not because he didn’t want you to be with family, but because he didn’t want to be without you. You had asked if he wanted to come home with you, but then you both decided it might be a little too early for that. Also, he’s deathly afraid of your dad after hearing how much of a perfectionist the man is. But not wanting him to feel lonely, you promised to send him photos whenever you can. 

“I’ll be fine.” He says, tightening the scarf wrapped around your neck. “Besides, Jimin and a few of the guys are gonna be around. I won’t be alone.”

“Alright.” You pout, asking for a kiss. “I’ll miss you.” 

The train horn sounds, signalling that it’s about to depart soon. Both of you look in the direction of the train where other commuters are hurrying aboard. “I’ll miss you too, baby. Take care and call me when you get there.”

“I will. I’ll send you lots of pics.” You nod, smiling. You were so excited to go back home but now, having to leave Jungkook behind has you questioning whether you really have to go. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “I’ll try.”

"See you next year then." You say, lifting your bag over your shoulder. You're sad about having to leave him behind. "Merry Christmas. And happy new year." 

"Okay come on Santa, you're gonna miss your train if you don't get on now." 

You giggle as he directs you to the train car door. "One more thing." He tilts his head and grins when you stop yourself from getting on the train, and turn to face him instead. You're so stubborn.

"What is it?" 

"I love you." 

You're still so shy about saying it so openly. He grabs your face and kisses you deeply. "I love you too." 

The platform guard starts whistling and you hurry up the train. Jungkook bites his lip at how cute you are, then there’s a sinking feeling in his heart. He doesn’t like seeing you go, even if it’s just for a couple of weeks. But he’d rather not show it to you, because he knows you’d feel bad about it. You rush to your seat and wave to him from the window. He watches from the platform as your train departs, and until he can no longer see you. 

He scrolls through the photos you send, noting the family members and friends in some of them but honestly, his eyes only look for you. The scrolling stops when he lands on a photo of you in a dressing room, trying on a light blue dress. It hugs your figure nicely. Too nicely. You definitely know what you’re doing sending him that photo. Oh the things he would do to you if you were standing in front of him right now in that dress. 

He closes the chat and clicks on a private folder in his gallery. His tongue comes out to wet his lips and he gulps, suddenly feeling very thirsty as he looks through the photos and videos he has of you. Specifically, a video you sent last night, where you’re laying in bed in your nightgown. Only showing from the neck down at first, the camera then pans to where you’re lifting the fabric up to reveal your bare body underneath. Your hands trace your skin from the top of your chest all the way down, and your fingers find their way to your⎯

“Damn. Does she have a sister?”

Jungkook jolts from his position, pressing the phone to his chest. The other guy chuckles, crossing his arms and leans against the wall, facing Jungkook.

“What the fuck. “ Jungkook breathes, positive he’s just had a heart attack. He looks to the side where Suga stands all smug. “Are you trying to kill me? How long have you been standing here?”

“Long enough.” He winks and Jungkook groans. Jungkook locks his phone and shoves it safely back into the pocket it came from. Suga continues to observe Jungkook. How he gets all clammy when the topic of you comes up. Jungkook should know better than to try and keep secrets from him. “You know you shouldn’t have your personal phone on during work. Much less use it.”

“I know I just...nevermind.” 

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” He smiles his signature gummy smile. “Y/N?” 

Jungkook scoffs way too quickly, only confirming Suga’s theory. He raises a brow at Jungkook, who shakes his head and walks off, back towards the main area of the club. He rests against the bar and orders an iced tea without thinking much of it. When Suga joins him, he frowns. “What now?” Jungkook asks, noticing his expression.

“Iced tea?” Suga nods towards the drink and Jungkook blinks, looking at it. “Why are you drinking iced tea?” 

Jungkook can’t admit it’s because iced tea is your regular order when you eat out, and it kind of grew on him. He pushes the drink away. “It’s...refreshing?” 

Suga laughs, then motions for Jungkook to follow him. They walk past the crowd of people, towards the back exit where security guards the door; one on the inside and one outside. They exchange nods, stepping out into the back alley to find a quiet space, away from listening ears. They lean against a fence wall separating the club ground from a more sophisticated version next door; a gentlemen’s club which they’ve only been to once. It’s a huge contrast. Same type of business just different target audience. 

“I’m not stupid.” Suga takes a box of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up. “She’s more than a friend, isn’t she?” 

“Who?” 

“Drop the act.” He rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. 

Jungkook drops his head into his hands and groans. Amused by his younger brother, Suga chuckles, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. It’s been a while since he’s seen Jungkook this vulnerable and he’s enjoying it.

It’s been almost two months since the night Suga and you met. Although Jungkook tried his best to redirect the conversation every time a question was sent your way, at the very least, you had given Suga your name. Would’ve been impolite not to, anyway. Suga put two and two together. It became all the more apparent to him why he’s been seeing less and less of Jungkook at work, why he never stays longer than he needs to anymore, and why the car always smells like sex.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are. I’m disappointed.” 

Jungkook sighs, then looks at him as he takes a slow, long draw of the cigarette. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't get myself attached to a girl especiall⎯"

"No, not that." Suga smiles. He lowers his voice, "We work with drugs, among other things, so keeping secrets should be your forte. Yet, I find you in a corner, jacking off to a video of your girl." 

"I was not⎯" Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was just...relieving some tension."

“Right.” Suga throws his half-used cigarette on the ground and steps on it. He crosses his arms across his chest and expression turns serious. Jungkook knows that look. It means he’s thinking over something important. He waits patiently for the older guy to speak. “Listen. Don’t think the others haven’t noticed how distant you’ve been. They don’t know about Y/N yet. You’ve got to be more careful.

“I”ve been covering for you. I told Captain and Lieutenant that your university’s keeping a close eye on you. So you had to lay low. I’m just telling you this so our stories check out. The boss is here. Big boss. And he’s called for us to see him in a bit.”

“What, why? Shit, are we in trouble? This is all my fault.” Jungkook fidgets in his spot. The boss seldom makes an appearance. There’s usually an underboss who passes the necessary information to their captain or lieutenant, who then passes it to them. 

"Calm down." Suga frowns. "Since when do you get nervous? You better get yourself together. He's expecting us right about now. Come on, Ace." 

Jungkook straightens himself up. Suga walks ahead, back to the club and before Jungkook trails behind, he’s grabbing for his phone again. But this time to switch it off. He doesn’t usually have it on, but he misses you. And waiting till after every shift to be able to see you is torture. Now that it’s off, he can focus. He has to. Suga stops by the door, waiting for him to catch up and they head up to the second floor of the building, down narrow corridors before reaching a room guarded by two of their colleagues. They greet each other and one of the two opens the door for them. 

It leads them to a room with a gambling table in the middle. Everyone at the table is serious, silently observing their opponents. Inside, there are four other guards, one by the door, one by the table, and two standing in front of a second door to the back of the room where they’re headed. All of them armed. The two walk quietly across the room and wait as the guards make their presence known to the boss. It’s a makeshift office, where Mr. Kim waits for them. They enter once they hear him call out for them. 

“Sit down.” He says as soon as they step inside. The lieutenant, who was sitting on the other side of the table across from Kim, gets up and smiles at them as he takes his leave. At the very least they know it won’t be bad news if he’s not leaving the room looking sullen. They take their seats and wait for instructions. 

Contrary to what anyone would expect the boss to look like, he has a kind face. Like someone you’d see in the supermarket grocery shopping for his kids, which makes it easy to get comfortable. That is, until he gets angry. Neither of them have experienced it personally, yet. And they hope not to after all they’ve heard about him. He’s not the boss for nothing. 

He gets right down to business with the boys, sliding a tablet across the desk towards them. On the screen, there’s a picture of a vacated building. It looks similar to the one they’re in. 

“This is…?” Suga asks.

“A new location.” Kim replies, a smile on his face. “Abandoned a few years ago after it caught fire. Pretty damaged but we’ve got men working on it already. It’ll look good when it’s done in about a month.” 

Jungkook notices the address at the bottom of the photo. He thinks about it for a while before realising he knows where this is. “Wait. This is in our district.”

Kim smiles and nods. “It is.” 

Jungkook glances at Suga and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Suga sends him a look that tells him to keep cool. “Sir, is there a reason you’re setting up the new location in my area? I mean, based on my numbers, I think I’ve been pretty consistent in my dealings⎯”

“Calm down.” He chuckles, leaning back into his chair. “Always so serious. No wonder you’re so good at what you do. But no, we’re expanding because business is good. Especially in your district. Stressed college kids who need help winding down, looking for some fun. We’re just bringing the party to them. It’ll make things easier for you.” 

“But boss, the cops are gonna be all over the place.” Suga says. “We definitely can’t move as freely there, like we do here. One slip up and it’s over.” 

“So don’t slip up.” He says casually, then laughs. “But ah, you’re right. So maybe until we’re clear, we don’t move the drugs there. Let the cops see it’s just another nightclub. Till then, you can continue pushing the drugs as you normally do. Then once we’re clear, we open up business. I’m sure you can figure out the timing, I’ll leave that to you.”

The boys nod. Jungkook sees the appeal, it’ll definitely be easier to have a base in the district itself. It would save him and Suga a lot of time than having to come down all the way to this club to get supplies. 

“So who’s the lead on this? The Captain?” Suga asks.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Kim says. “I’m leaving it to you. Both of you will oversee the entire movement there.”

“Us?” Jungkook and Suga speak in unison. 

“Yup.” He nods, taking back the tablet. “I’ve been hearing good things about the two of you. If you’re as good as they say, then maybe...you don’t need to answer to anyone anymore.”

“Wait, what are you saying?” 

“You two will manage the place. And…” Kim smiles, taking out a black notebook from his drawer and starts to write. “At the same time, you’ll be training some new members. This is supposed to be the Lieutenant’s job but I want you two to have a go at it. The new soldiers will then take over your place in a few years because by then, after Ace is done with college or whatever, you won’t be pushers anymore. I’ll want you on the team. Maybe a captain. Or co-captains. We’ll see.” 

Suga and Jungkook look at each other, then back at Kim. There's an obvious glee on Suga’s part. In this business, the only way is up. They don’t take their instructions straight from Kim, there’s usually a captain giving them the orders. But now they’re getting a chance to be captains themselves. Jungkook remains poker-faced as he usually does. On the inside though, he’s a little conflicted. Suga’s happy, is he supposed to be happy too? He thinks about you. Would you be happy? 

The boss clears his throat, snapping Jungkook out of his thoughts. He reaches under the desk for a small black briefcase and places it nicely on the table. It unlocks with a click and inside, stacks of money which he’s grabbing by the bundle. He starts counting and places five grand in hundred dollar bills on the table, in front of each boy. The two of them remain seated, looking at the money in front of them. Jungkook looks to Suga quizzically.

“Sir, what’s this for?” Suga asks, attempting to sound casual. “We got our pay from the captain two weeks ago.”

"Just a little Christmas gift from me." He winks.

Again, Jungkook waits for Suga to move before he does, only reaches for the money when the older boy does. He folds the stack in half and keeps it safe in his jacket pocket. 

“One more thing.” Kim says just as they start to get up. “I need you to track someone down.” He slides the tablet back to them, this time there’s a photo of a man on the screen. “This is Jax. He owes me money and unfortunately, he’s been avoiding us and our men. There’s word he’s hiding out in your district. See if you can find him and bring him to me.”

They nod and excuse themselves. But before Jungkook steps out of the room, the old man calls out to him again. “I hear you’re having some trouble with your school. Did someone rat you out?”

“Oh.” Jungkook gulps. “No, nothing like that. Just word of mouth maybe. But don’t worry, I’ve been keeping a low profile.” 

“Good. If anyone gives you trouble, just take them out.” He says casually, not even looking at Jungkook anymore. “And if you need any backup, let your captain know. Tell him you’ve got orders from me.” 

“Right. I will.” Jungkook nods with a half-smile. “Thanks boss.” 

Jungkook speed walks out the room, past the gambling table and finds Suga by the door, making small talk with the guards. They walk back down and Jungkook checks the time; a little after three in the morning. The club closes in a few hours, staying open just a little longer during the holidays. The crowd is already starting to wind down, though the music keeps blasting. 

“What’s the matter? Bedtime already?” Suga chuckles, speaking over the music. 

“I’m tired.” Jungkook says. “Aren’t you going home?” 

“Home?” Suga scoffs. “Haven’t had that in a long time.” 

Jungkook looks away, sharing the same thought. He just hadn’t realised how he’s started calling the frat house and you, as home. He fist bumps the older boy, then takes his leave, riding home in the early morning on his bike.

𝄖

“Are you awake?” You ask over the phone. It’s early, but the only time you’re able to have a decent conversation with Jungkook, in the privacy of your room and away from the prying ears of your grandmother.

“Now I am.” He hums, still sleepy. He stirred from his sleep as his ringtone goes off from your call, about to switch it off, until he sees your name across the display. “It’s okay, I wanted to hear your voice anyway.” 

“I miss you.” You say.

“I miss you too.” He smiles, leaning against the wooden headboard. It presses against his back uncomfortably but it doesn’t bother him, not when he’s busy pressing the phone closer to his ear, listening to the sound of you giggling on the other end. “Feels weird when you’re not just a drive away.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you disappear for days on end.”

“Hey,” he pouts, “I thought we’re way past that.” 

“I know,” you laugh, “I’m just messing with you.” 

Jungkook laughs along dryly. It brings him back to what happened at work and what Mr. Kim said. He wonders what you would say if he tells you he’s about to get a promotion. It’s weird; before you, he wouldn’t think twice about anything related to work. Probably would be ecstatic at the thought of moving up the ranks. But now, he wonders if that’s really what he wants.

As much as he hates to admit it, what Hoseok said before is probably true; you’re not going to want to deal with this forever. And you’re definitely not worth losing. You sense that something’s bothering him and after a long pause, you ask him, “Everything alright?” 

“Everything is...normal.” He nods, even though you can’t see him. You only hum in response, hoping he’ll tell you when he’s ready. “I’ll tell you when you’re back.” 

“Alright.” You say. “Hey, can we facetime?” 

“Sure.”

You click on the option and wait for the screen display. When he finally comes on screen, you almost throw your phone across the room. How does he manage to look that good when he just woke up? Ridiculous. But he’s thinking the same about you, the way you’re glowing, like an actual angel. “God I miss your face.” He breathes.

“Life is so unfair.” You pout and he’s confused. “You wake up looking like that? Come on.”

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffs. “Have you seen the way you wake up from a nap with drool on your face? I can’t beat that.”  

“Shut the fuck up.” You hiss, not wanting anyone to hear you. “That was one time! And I was really tired.”

You both start laughing and it slowly dies down to you just staring at each other. Jungkook runs a hand into his hair and leans his head against the wall, watching you like he’s trying to memorise everything. You heat up a little under his stare. How do the butterflies still not go away after so long? “Hey Jungkook, merry christmas.”

“Oh, right. Merry Christmas to you too.” Jungkook smiles fondly, trying to ignore the squeezing sensation in his chest. It’s sad, but he thinks this might be the first time someone’s wished him a merry christmas. He’s not usually around for the holidays, so it’s not anyone’s fault. And it’s not like they’re gonna start singing carols and having christmas dinners at the club. Then he clears his throat, interrupting his own thoughts. “So, you must be pretty busy there?” 

“Kind of.” You shrug. “Just decorating the house, getting ready for the Christmas dinner tonight. My dad’s pretty stressed about that. He likes everything to be perfect.”

“I can tell.” He agrees and you tilt your head asking how. “Cause you’re perfect.” 

You can’t help the smile that forces its way onto your face, looking down to avoid eye contact out of embarrassment. There’s nothing that Jungkook likes more than to watch you react so adorably to his words. He could watch you forever, but then you hear footsteps moving about outside and your expression changes. You haven’t told anyone about Jungkook yet, so you’d rather they not hear you. You lower your voice when you speak, “I think I have to go now.” 

“Oh, alright.” Jungkook nods, though he looks obviously disappointed from such a short time with you. “Call me when you can.” 

“I will. Bye Jungkook.” 

You hang up quickly after he says goodbye. It leaves him feeling empty, suddenly aware of how quiet it is. There’s less of the usual ruckus around the house with most of the boys having gone home. He then wonders about how different it would be to spend Christmas with you, and your family. A sudden longing overcomes him. 

To shake it off, he decides to get up, rolling off the bed and tossing his phone back on the mattress. He’s headed for the kitchen but before going down the steps, he realises the soft music coming from Jimin’s room. He walks over and finds Jimin on his bed, singing along to the songs. His knocks on the door, startling Jimin, who smiles wide when he sees Jungkook. It’s not always that the younger guy comes to him, it’s usually the other way around. “Hey stranger.” 

“Hey.” Jungkook steps inside slowly, hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Merry christmas.”

Jimin doesn’t hide the surprise on his face. Is this what they call a Christmas miracle? “Merry Christmas to you too, buddy.” From the look on his face, Jimin thinks Jungkook might have more to say, so he pats the area on the bed next to him, but Jungkook shakes his head instead.

“Um, do you want to maybe have lunch later? Or dinner? Only if you want to.” Jungkook clears his throat, trying to ignore the awkward atmosphere. 

Jimin grins up at him. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Just let me know when you’re ready. I’ll drive.”

𝄖

It’s not a fancy dinner, and Jimin is fine with burgers and a shake. Jungkook had actually asked Jimin out for help on picking out a gift for you. He wanted a second opinion, since he’s never done this before and Jimin was kind enough not to give him too much shit for it. Of course, it’s not Jimin if he doesn’t drive Jungkook crazy. They spent an hour bickering because Jimin insisted on dropping by planned parenthood to get himself tested. 

“Why do you need to do this today?!” Jungkook yells in the car. 

“Because we’re already out, Jungkook!” Jimin yells back and Jungkook groans. “I need to get myself tested ASAP!”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Then I wouldn’t have asked you out!” 

“Because then you wouldn’t have asked me out!” Jimin can’t help but to let out a chuckle. “And I needed a ride.” 

“You are the most annoying person⎯”

“Oh!!! You can get yourself tested too! We can go in together!” 

“That’s it, I’m crashing this car.”

For the sake of his own sanity, Jungkook went along with him. But it was only after Jungkook threatened to tell Taehyung that Jimin had a crush on him the first time they met, that Jimin finally shut up. Only to open his mouth ten minutes later to suggest Jungkook give his test results to you as a Christmas present.

“Oh yeah,” Jimin groans, mouth full, “this is definitely better than microwaved mac and cheese. Thanks for bringing me out of the house.”

Jungkook stays quiet, eating his own burger and downing sips of soda. It’s only after a while that he speaks. “I spoke to Y/N, about her and Hoseok.” 

“And she said they’re just friends, didn’t she?” Jimin asks, nonchalant. Jungkook nods, not meeting his eyes. “Told you there’s nothing to be worried about.” 

“I guess.” He shrugs. “Can I...ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” 

Jungkook sets his burger down and takes a long sip of his drink. Jimin eyes him curiously as he does. Everything about today has been strange. Jungkook almost never spends time with anyone outside of school, and even when he does, it wouldn’t be him that makes the first move. “How do I know if whatever choice I’m making is the right one?” Jungkook continues when Jimin doesn’t respond, “Like if you have to choose between two things, how do I know if I’m choosing the right one? Assuming you can’t have both.” 

“First of all, I can’t believe you’re coming to me for advice.” Jimin says cheerfully, then gets serious again. “But okay, that’s too vague Jungkook. It really depends on the context.”

Jungkook thinks hard. He doesn’t want to let Jimin know what this is really all about. “Okay so, if you’ve always liked dogs...but now you realise cats are cute too.”

“O-kay...and you can’t have both a cat and a dog?” 

“Um,” he thinks, getting confused himself, “maybe the cat’s allergic to the dog?”

“So you want the cat?” 

“Yes. But she- it’s allergic to dogs. And I have a dog.” 

Jimin blinks. “Yeah, I can’t work with this. Do you want my help or not?”

“Okay okay,” Jungkook whines and Jimin almost snorts at his tone if not for how serious he looks, “what if all you’ve known is one thing but now you don’t think you want that anymore. You want to move in a different direction. How do I know if I’m going in the right direction?”

“You’ll just have to take the risk. Won’t know if you don’t go for it.” 

“What if I regret it?” 

Jimin stares at him for a while. “You might have regrets either way. That’s life. If you choose that one thing, you might regret not going for the other. If you choose the other, you might regret it because you miss how it was before.” 

“So, there is no right choice?”

“That depends on you. Which option would your future self’s happiness outweigh the regret? That’s the choice you go for.”

“Happiness…” Jungkook mutters to himself. What makes him happy? He wonders. But all he sees is an image of you in his head. Jimin snaps his fingers to bring him back. 

“Okay? Just do what makes you happy.” 

Jungkook nods, silently reaching for his burger again. He continues eating as if nothing happened and so does Jimin. They sit in silence for a while, save for the sound of their chewing. Then Jungkook says ever so softly, “Thanks hyung.”

𝄖

“Are you sure he’s here?” Suga sighs, asking the kid walking ahead of him. He sends a disapproving look Jungkook’s way. “The last couple of places you’ve sent us were dead leads.” 

“I think so. I...I⎯I think he’s here.” He stutters and Jungkook has to hold Suga back before the new recruit pisses himself under his death stare. It’s dark and dirty, an old apartment building with floors that feel like it might collapse at any moment with every step they take. 

Christmas and the conversation with Jimin pushed to the back of his mind, Jungkook’s back at work, trudging through this place, looking for a wanted man. Next to him, Suga’s seething, “I swear if we don’t get this guy, you⎯” He stops when Jungkook grabs his sleeve, stopping them in their tracks. 

“Will you shut up?” Jungkook growls. “You’re scaring him.” 

Suga looks offended. “I’m scaring him? Gee, sorry mom, I won’t do it again. Why don’t you ground me while you’re at it!” 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jungkook hisses. 

Suga sighs again, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. The other guy moves ahead when Jungkook nods for him to go on. He continues to search for the right apartment, one which he was told the guy Kim is looking for can be found at. “I’m really tired and this kid is getting on my nerves.” He says, gesturing towards the guy. 

“Give him a break. He’s new, it’s not his fault he got assigned to this.” Jungkook whispers. “We’re supposed to train him, remember?” 

“I don’t give a f⎯”

“Uh...guys…” The newbie calls out. They turn in his direction and walk towards him, standing in front of an apartment. Door ajar, and a mess on the inside. The window is open, probably from leaving in a rush. Another dead end.

“Fuck.” Suga grunts, storming off in the direction they came from.

Jungkook sighs and turns to the boy. “You can go. Call me when you have new information. But check your sources first.” 

He looks at Jungkook sheepishly and mutters a soft apology as Jungkook walks away, catching up to Suga who’s already standing by the car in the back alley. “He sucks.”

“Yeah well, he’s new. And young. Give him a break.” Jungkook stares Suga down. The car door clicks as Jungkook unlocks it and they slide in.

"Hey, we started young too." Suga mumbles, then smiles as he thinks about the past. "Remember? You had such innocent eyes, fooled everyone into giving us intel for Kim. Gave us everything we need. And look at where we are now." 

"Where is that?" 

"What d'you mean?" Suga cocks a brow at Jungkook, frowns when he doesn't reply. "Did something happen?" 

"No, nothing." Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. The car's engine revs up as he turns the key on the ignition. "Just really tired." 

"Hang in there." Suga says softly, looking out the window. "If we do well managing the new club, we'll move up the ranks as captains. We won't have to do stupid runs like this anymore. I mean it's fun but it'll be even more fun getting soldiers to do the dirty work for you. Am I right?" 

"What if I don't want all that?" Jungkook asks carefully and quietly, immediately regretting it after. They've known each other for a long time; they're practically brothers. Suga knows Jungkook like the back of his hand, or at least he thinks he did. Recently though, Jungkook's been hard to read and acting differently. Suga doesn't like that.

"What the hell are you saying?" His voice is low but Jungkook can sense the frustration in it. "You don't want to be captain? Dude, what is wrong with you, you're acting so weird. Seriously. The normal you would've beaten the crap out of that newbie for leading us to three dead ends! But no, you're all soft now. Talking about giving him a chance and shit…and now you don’t even want to be captain?" 

“I⎯” Jungkook opens his mouth but can’t find the right words. He backtracks instead. “Nevermind. Just forget I said anything.”

Jungkook starts driving, heading back to Suga’s apartment to drop him off. After a long silence, Suga speaks again. “I don’t know what’s going on but I hope you don’t make any stupid decisions. Take some time to think things through. Then tell me if you’re in or out.”

Jungkook nodded even though he stopped paying attention halfway. Once he’s dropped Suga off, Jungkook takes a long drive through the night with the windows down. But the cool night breeze does little to clear his mind, so he decides to head to the gym instead. 

While he managed to get through his usual workout routine, it didn’t help him forget about what happened earlier either. He didn’t even realise a guy at the reception was speaking to him until they called out his name a couple of times. They wished him a happy new year and Jungkook returned the greeting, collecting his belongings from them. 

It’s three days into the new year so things are slowly going back to normal; students returning from their hometown. He was bummed when he got called into work on new years’ eve and had to miss out on a facetime session with you that night like he had planned. He hasn’t been home since and he sighs, feeling exhausted. Thinking about you, he takes out his personal phone and tries to switch it on, but the screen remains black. The battery’s dead. Perfect. 

He heads back to the house, driving past other greek houses hosting parties. The house is dark when he walks through the front door, save for the light coming from the television in the living room. Reruns of bad movies are playing on the television and a few guys are on the couch with drinks in their hands. Jimin, amongst them, turns his head when he notices Jungkook, then smiles. He’s drunk. He raises a finger at Jungkook and opens his mouth, then his brows crease and mouth drops into a frown. “Have to tell you something...can’t remember…”

“Cool. Goodnight.” Jungkook heads for his room, leaving him confused.

Jungkook runs up the steps but stops just as he reaches the top. There’s light coming from under his door. Had he left his lamp on before leaving a few days ago? He doesn’t think so. He walks up to it slowly and presses his ear to the door. It’s quiet. Gently, he turns the doorknob and pushes the door open. 

Are his eyes playing tricks on him? He looks around the room and sees luggage placed by the bed. They’re yours. And then there’s you, sleeping peacefully in his bed. He closes the door gently and walks over to you, kneeling by the side of the bed. It’s the first time he’s seen you in weeks. Without realising, he cups the side of your face with his palm. Your stir at his touch and he almost regrets it, if not for the cute way you pout and eyes flutter open.

“Jungkook?” You mumble, placing your hand on his.

“Hey baby.” He smiles, moving in to kiss your forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“I came back early.” You say softly. “Hana’s not home yet and I thought I’d come stay with you. I called you, but I couldn’t get through. So I came here.”

Jungkook curses himself for not charging his phone earlier. “And they just let you in?” He asks, keeping in mind the house rules in which non-members aren’t allowed in unless you’re with a member.

“I flirted with Jimin and he let me in.” 

“Sounds about right.” He chuckles. While he’d love to slide into bed with you right now, he figures he should clean up first. So he removes his hand from you and gets up, but you grab onto his arm to stop him. 

“Where are you going?” 

You’re so tired that you drift in and out of sleep. He finds it so endearing. He places your hand back gently and pulls up the covers. “I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll join you in a bit.” You hum in response. 

Jungkook’s shower is a quick one. The warm water from the shower doesn’t match up to having you snuggle up against him. He finishes quickly, dries his hair in the bathroom and practically runs back into the room, slipping under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you. You roll over when you feel him pulling you close, resting your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the sweet smell of his soap. 

Your legs tangle into each other’s and your arm wraps loosely around his waist as his hand rubs your back in gentle movements. For the first time in three weeks, he feels relaxed, falling asleep almost immediately.

𝄖

One day, Jungkook’s waking up in the dark of Suga’s apartment, where the paint is peeling off and it’s vacant save for the couch he sleeps on. The next, he finds himself waking up to something dreamlike; his room in a nice orange glow from the morning sun streaming in, his legs tangled into yours, and you softly tracing your finger over his skin.

A smile forms on his face and he groans sleepily. Even though he’s tired, he chooses to wake up. You feel his hand slide down your back, down to your butt where he rubs circles. You look up and see him smiling, eyes still closed. You scoot up and give him a peck on the lips and get an approving hum from him. Once you’re free from his hold, you roll off the bed to wash up. He watches under sleepy eyes as you undress, stealing glances at him when you slip out of your nightwear. 

“Missed you so much.” 

You turn, smiling. “I missed you too.” 

“Not you,” Jungkook replies, “her.”

You turn, looking around the room. He must be sleep-talking, you think. “What? Who?”

He grins, then throws the blanket off himself to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out for you. He pulls you in and turns you around so your back faces him. His hands up both sides of your butt. “Her.”

You erupt into a fit of giggles, playfully hitting him with a pillow and he holds his hands up to defend himself. “You’re so stupid.” You laugh, ending up on top of him when he grabs you. “Missed you.”

You stare at each other for some time and he traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You can’t help but to lean in for a kiss. It starts off as gentle pecks, until he places his hand on the back of your neck and slips his tongue into the kiss. You’ve both missed this. It seems silly when he thinks about it since it’s only been a few weeks. Makes him feel guilty too; all the time he’s gone off the grid and you’ve had to put up with it.

“Mmkay, I’m gonna wash up.” You pull away too quickly but he doesn’t stop you, and his eyes don’t leave you, or your butt, as you put his oversized shirt on and head for the bathroom with your clothes and toiletries.

It’s a short shower, since you figure the rest of the guys might wake up soon. Most of them are back by now, though probably not up yet. So when you hear a knock on the bathroom door, you think it may be Jungkook. Thankfully, you had enough sense not to open the door without getting dressed first.

“Hoseok. Hi.” You try not to sound awkward. By the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting you either. “Sorry if I was taking too long...shower..” You gesture vaguely and he nods. 

He must have just gotten home, still dressed nicely but with bags under his eyes. You grab your bag of toiletries and towel before slipping out the door and heading straight for Jungkook’s room. But a hand on your elbow stops you before you can get to safety. You jump a little, surprised at the contact. “Sorry,” he says, “um, so how was your break?”

You look in the direction of Jungkook’s closed door just a few steps away, then back at Hoseok. “Good. It was nice.” You nod and he nods, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans. You turn to the door again. And back at Hoseok. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with talking to Hoseok. Afterall, you’ve made it clear to Jungkook that it’s just a normal friendship. But you don’t want him catching on to what really happened between Hoseok and you that evening. 

“Can we talk? Maybe in my room, just in case he hears us.” Hoseok speaks softly and gestures to his room at the end of the hallway, in the opposite direction of Jungkook’s. 

“Okay but make it quick.” You say, following behind. 

You leave the door slightly ajar, so you can keep an eye on Jungkook’s door. “Look,” Hoseok starts, “I wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have told you about...everything.”

You cock a brow at him. “Why?”

“I know it got you all stressed out.” He sighs. “And I feel bad.”

“I’m fine now.” It’s not entirely true but it’s not a lie either. You’re still worried about the entire thing. “Don’t worry about me, alright? I’ll figure out how to help Jungkook.”

Hoseok looks at you in surprise. “You will? So you’re going through with my plan?”

“Not really. I’m figuring things out as I go.” 

“Huh.” He blinks. “So you don’t have a plan.”

“I’m trying okay!” You hiss. “Give me some time. You can’t expect him to quit his job and turn into a missionary all in one day!”

He breaks into a tiny smile, “Your plan is to turn him into a missionary?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Your cheeks heat up when he holds back a laugh. Sounds from outside distract you and you look through the gap to see Jimin, entering Jungkook’s room. He makes a ruckus and you hear Jungkook telling him to get out. “Anyway, I’ll update you once I get any info. Anything from your friend?” 

“No.” Hoseok shakes his head, brows furrowed and looking worried. “He’s been really quiet as of late. Bit weird.” 

“Maybe he’s busy.” You shrug and Hoseok chews on his bottom lip. "Okay I should go." 

"Right right, you should." Hoseok rubs the side of his neck as he manages a small smile. He's acting weird. You quickly slip out of his room and head straight for Jungkook’s. Only to bump straight into Jimin who’s exiting the room in a hurry. 

“Y/N!” He breathes, hiding behind you. “Your boyfriend’s trying to kill me.”

“I’m sure he has a good reason for it.” You giggle, just as the door swings open and Jungkook sees you, then turns his attention to Jimin and lunges forward. Jimin screams but Jungkook’s only reaching for you to get you away from him. 

“Stay away, demon.” Jungkook hisses.

“What is going on….” You mutter to yourself while you hang the towel behind the door. 

They get into a scuffle as Jimin tries to enter the room again and Jungkook holds him back. It barely takes any effort on Jungkook’s part and all you hear is Jimin grunting. You sit on the bed, waiting for it to end. 

“I just⎯ need,” Jimin huffs, then kicks Jungkook in the nuts. Jungkook bends over and falls on his knees, groaning. “I’m sorry! I need to talk to Y/N!” Jimin says, taking the chance to jump over Jungkook and step inside, bending over to catch his breath.

“Oh my god,” You gasp, hands to your mouth. “Jungkook are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s immortal.” Jimin says, stopping you from going to Jungkook. He sits you down again and pulls out a piece of folded paper from his back pocket. “I need you to look at this.” He hands you the paper and stands in front of you with hands on his hips. 

“Um? An STD test?” You ask. It’s his and you’re confused as to why he’s handing you this.

“Now that you’ve seen this and know that I’m clean, would you say it increases the chances of you going out and or, having sex with me?”

Jungkook gets up just then and goes straight for Jimin, tackling him to the ground. “How dare you.” He grunts, pinning Jimin’s arm behind his back. “She’s my girlfriend!”

“You’re hurting me!” Jimin cries. “Let me go, I’m not interested in Y/N!” 

Jungkook releases his hold, reluctantly, when you tell him to. He stands with his arms folded, watching Jimin carefully. Jimin breathes hard, holding on to his right shoulder. He glares at Jungkook from the floor and punches his thigh, only to hurt his own hand doing so. He screams when Jungkook fakes a kick.

“What are you up to?” You ask Jimin, sighing.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” Jimin huffs. “I just wanted to know if it’s a yes or a no.”

“Well, I honestly don’t know. It depends.” 

Jimin gasps. “On what? I don’t usually get rejected…”

“Usually?” You eye him curiously and he avoids your stare. “Ah...I see what’s happening.”

Jimin furrows his brows at you. You only smile back knowingly. It’s amusing to think about how he’s older than you but behaves so childlike sometimes. 

“You asked a girl out and she rejected you.”

He remains stoic for a beat until he can’t take the silence. “Fine, yes! She mentioned something about me being a fuckboy. So rude.” 

“She’s not wrong.” Jungkook mutters, going to sit next to you. 

“So anyway, I took the test to show her that I’m safe.” Jimin says, pouting. “But she still won’t go out with me.” 

“Maybe it’s not about that?” You shrug. “She probably just doesn’t like you. No offence.”

“That’s crazy, I’m so lovable.” 

“You’re disgusting.” Jungkook comments.

“Look, just leave her alone.” You say. “If she likes you, you’ll know.”

“But I need to know why she doesn’t like me...” He whines and you chuckle. 

“Why does it matter if she likes you or not?” You ask, eyeing him again. He fidgets under your stare. “Unless...you like her?”

“I don’t!” Jimin jumps to his feet. “I just don't understand why she would not want to hang out with me.”

You watch him with a knowing look. Jungkook furrows his brows and puts a hand up to him, “Wait. Did you take this test and force me to get it done with you, then show it to Y/N so you can get some advice, all for this girl? Wow.”

“Shut up! I hate you guys!” Jimin yells, storming off. 

Jungkook smiles, “Yeah he’s definitely into her. I know from experience.” He leans in to capture your lips in a kiss, one which you smile into. Your hands move down his bare front, teasingly tracing his abs. “Any plans today?” He asks breathily when he pulls away.

“Hm...I have a lot to unpack. Let’s go back to my place.” You smile, noting the way he pouts. “You can help me.”

“I have a better idea.” He smirks, hand around your waist as he moves back and pulls you on top of him. “We can stay in bed.” 

“Sure I guess.” You shrug. “But you know Hana’s not around right? So we have the entire place to ourselves, to do whatever we want.” You whisper the last part against his lips and he knows you’re just trying to lure him in, but he’s so weak when you use that voice on him. 

“I’ll go get ready.”

𝄖

“Why are we here again?” 

You turn and stare quizzically at your boyfriend, whose sulky face leaves you in giggles. There’s nothing more fun than watching a grumpy guy pushing a cart through the supermarket. “To get groceries, duh.”

“Why?” He frowns. 

“What do you mean why? Cause we need food. You know, to survive.” You tilt your head. “Have you never gone grocery shopping?”

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“What? Then who gets the groceries at the house?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks. “Probably everyone else.” 

“God, you are such a horrible housemate.” You mutter and he doesn’t react, suddenly wondering, who does get the groceries? 

You hear him grumble once he realises you’ve walked ahead, followed by the sound of the wheels of the cart against the floor, speeding up to catch up with you. You don’t actually need the cart, you just wanted to make him push one. It’s amusing, especially since he looks so cute doing it. 

You breeze through the supermarket, already knowing what to get since Hana and you follow a strict list of things to get. Only the necessities, to save cost. It’s only when you reach the jam and spreads aisle that you get stuck. “Hm...chunky or creamy?” You think to yourself. 

Jungkook waits patiently as you decide. He’s standing next to you with the cart in between. He stares as you tilt your head and pout a litte, then smiles at how adorable you look even when you’re just standing there. He pulls out his phone and snaps a shot of you. Just as he shoves the phone back in his pocket, you turn to him. “Chunky? Or Creamy?”

“Why not both?” He shrugs.

“Because we have a budget.” You shrug.

He sighs, then leaves his position from behind the cart to stand next to you. He looks at your two options. "Chunky."

"Hm," you pause, "I think I'll get creamy." 

Jungkook stares at you, puzzled as you reach for the jar and move around him to place it in the cart. You smile up at him innocently and get on your toes to give him a kiss. Maybe he'll forgive you this time. When you see a tiny smile forming, you skip away down the aisle and turn into the next one.  

It suddenly hits Jungkook. Would this be how it's like to have a normal life with you? Whatever normal is. He's still in the same spot thinking about how domestic this all seems, when he sees you return with a stack of tissue boxes, a grin on your face when you see him. 

"You alright?" You ask when he doesn't move or say anything. 

He manages a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking." 

"About what?" 

"You." He says almost immediately. 

A shy smile makes its way onto your face and you bury your face into his chest. He chuckles and kisses the top of your head. When you pull away, you stare at him for a while, giving him a once-over. 

"I love your outfit today." 

"You chose my outfit today…" He rolls his eyes but there's still a smile on his face. 

You decided on a white sweater with blue jeans for him. He looks less intimidating and absolutely adorable when he's not decked in all black or his favourite leather jacket. It's not like you went out of your way, he already had these items sitting in his closet. 

"Come on," he says, pushing the cart and holding your hand at the same time, "let's finish up and go home." 

"Okay. Actually I think we're done." 

"No, we need one more thing." You look at the items in the cart and tally them against your list. Everything's there. Still, you follow behind as Jungkook speeds up and finally stops in front of⎯ "We need lube." He says way too loudly.

You shush and cover his mouth, looking around. "What are you so loud for?" You whisper. 

He chuckles and kisses the palm of your hand. Then he reaches for a bottle of lube, reading its description. "Look, this one has a warming effect." 

A man walks past just then and you hide your face in embarrassment. Jungkook tries to hide his smile but fails. He's obviously enjoying this. He grabs your waist and presses you against his side. "Should we get this?" He asks, winking. 

You snatch the bottle from his hand and return it to its place on the shelf, grabbing another instead. "I think," you bring your face closer to his and lick your lips, "I'd enjoy the cooling lube more. Should we try this?" You ask in a sultry voice. And he knows you're only doing this to get back at him but that voice is really getting him going. He gulps, then takes the bottle from you and places it in the cart. 

You walk ahead when he doesn't say anything else, thinking you've won. 

"Babe! They have flavoured lube!" He yells.

𝄖

"Why are your clothes so big?" He asks, unfolding a black sweater that looks oddly familiar and holds it up in front of him. When he lowers it, you're staring at him with an amused look on your face.

"That's yours, Kookie." You say. "I borrowed it."

"Oh." He scratches his head and tosses it into the pile of laundry before him, focusing on unpacking the other clothes. "Kookie?" 

You smile, separating the colours from the whites. "I like it. It's cute." 

"Just don't call me that in front of the guys, okay?" He stops unfolding. "Especially Suga."

"No promises." You shrug. "Speaking of Suga, how is he?"

Jungkook pauses for a while, then says, "He's good. Why?" 

"Just wondering." You still remember the way Jungkook held you that night you met Suga. As if he was afraid of you getting any closer to him. Even during the cab ride home, he intertwines your arms and interlaced your fingers as if you would slip away if he wasn’t holding on to you.

"I have to tell you something about Suga." He says seriously. You watch him carefully and gesture for him to go on. "It concerns you. But you have to promise you won't get mad." 

"You're making me nervous. What is it?" 

"You know that video you sent me?" He starts, eyes suddenly glazed over. "The one where you're in bed, looking like a whole meal, and you start touching yourself⎯" 

"Jungkook, focus" 

"Sorry. You're so hot. Anyway," he smiles sheepishly, "Suga may have caught me watching that video…and he may have seen everything."

"What?!" You shriek.

"You promised you wouldn't be mad!" 

"I did not!" You throw yourself at him, shoving him to the floor and placing your hands around his neck in a choke. If anything, he’s enjoying it. "You're dead to me." 

He grins, hands sliding up your thighs wrapped around his middle. "I didn't know you were into this." 

"Ugh!" You throw your hands up in the air. "That video was for your eyes only!" 

"I know!" Jungkook sighs. "But I didn't know Suga was behind me. I'm sorry baby. I didn't do it on purpose." 

You whine and let yourself drop onto him. "Were you at work? Why were you watching it at work?" 

"Because. I was at work when I saw those photos you sent me. And I missed you." 

His voice is soft and gentle. Your heart swells a little knowing he thought about you while you were away. Even at work. You lift your head up to kiss him, sighing into the kiss. "Don't do it again." You say, pointing a finger at him and he nods. You draw circles on his chest for a while, "What did Suga think about the video?" 

Jungkook looks at you, amused. "He thinks you're hot." A tiny satisfied smile forms on your lips and he chuckles. "And he's right. I've missed being with you." 

His hands roam your body, from your thighs to your chest. "Me too." You bite his bottom lip, sucking on it then press your mouth to his in a wet kiss. He moans into it, hands already digging into the flesh of your skin. Until you push yourself off him. "But as punishment, we’re not having sex tonight." 

"What, no!" He whines, shooting up from his position. You almost fall over if not for him supporting your back. "Baby…don’t do this." 

You giggle when he pouts, pinching both sides of his cheeks. He tucks a curl behind your ear and you flinch slightly when it tickles your neck. The silence that follows as you stare into each other’s eyes causes the beating of your heart to intensify. And you can feel, from your bodies pressed together, that his is the same. He’s smiling sweetly up at you, a look you wish to engrave into your mind forever. When you think about the past, you’d never imagine you’d find yourself sharing moments like this with Jungkook. He always seemed so distant and cold. Yes he was playful and still is, but you never thought you’d be able to have a relationship with him like one you have now. 

The kiss that follows is slow and gentle. His lips move so carefully against yours, as if they’re savouring every touch. There’s longing in his movements and his touch, hands holding you gently over your clothes, but you can tell he’s holding himself back.  

"I almost forgot, I have something for you." He says.

“You got me a gift?” You ask, eyes lighting up and he nods.

You move to sit on the bed as he leaves the room momentarily, fetching it from his bag outside. You're excited, legs shaking as you sit at the foot of the bed, until he's walking back into the room, hands behind his back. You let out a tiny squeal when he joins you. "What is it?" 

You can barely contain it any longer, chewing on your bottom lip and eyes trained on his hands. He chuckles when you stare at him and raise your eyebrows, gesturing him to reveal it. 

"I wanted to get you something nice." He says. Your eyes go wide when you see a box in his hands. There's no mistaking what it is, a jewellery box. "I don't know if this is your style but I hope you like it…" 

You're silent when he opens the box, revealing a lovely rose gold necklace with a sparkling red heart-shaped pendant. You're more surprised than anything. You hadn't expected him to get you such a fancy gift. Maybe it isn't a big deal to him, but it is to you. He watches you, waiting for a reaction and worries when you don't give him one. 

"Do you not like it? I can return it⎯"

"Jungkook," you say softly and gently run a finger over the necklace, "you got this for me? This is beautiful." 

"Really?" Jungkook says, relieved. "I couldn't decide on a design, so I made Jimin come along to help me." 

He removes the necklace from its box and unhooks the clasp. You turn, lifting your hair for him to put it around you. It settles nicely around your neck and you run to the mirror to have a look. It's so pretty. And probably expensive. "This must've been expensive." You look at him from the mirror. 

"Don't worry about it." He reaches for your hand when you walk back towards him. "I got a bonus at work. I was actually going to get you matching earrings. But Jimin said you would think it's too much, so I didn't. If you do want it though⎯" 

You shut him up with a kiss. "This is more than enough, Jungkook. I love it. Thank you." 

"I'm glad." He grins wide, his tiny dimple showing. 

"I actually have something for you too." You say, walking over to your luggage. You unzip a compartment and with your back to him, pull out his gift and slip it under your shirt. He watches you curiously when you walk back. 

"Great hiding place." He chuckles.

"Shut up. Listen." You sigh. "I should've gone first. My present looks really lame now compared to yours." 

"I love it already. What is it?" He grabs at your hands under the shirt and you resist, laughing. 

"Okay, okay!" You hesitate for a moment, then remove the present from underneath your shirt, holding it out in front of you. "Ta-da! I made you a sweater." 

"You made me this sweater?" He takes it from you, running his hand over the soft material. It's a blue knitted sweater that you spent hours on back home. 

"Yeah. I knitted it when I was home." You bite your lip as he looks at it in silence. "Do you like it? I'm sorry it's so lame. It's such a grandma present. As in literally my grandmother helped me with it. Maybe I should've gotten you a watch or something. It's not too late, I could run some errands and get you⎯" 

"Y/N," he says, voice low and gentle, "this is the best thing anyone has ever given me." You would think he's exaggerating except for the lack of mischief in his eyes. Only sincerity. And if you're not seeing things, maybe there's a gloss in his eyes that wasn't there before. "No one's ever made me anything before." He says softly, looking at the sweater again.

It drops to his lap when he swoops in to cup your face and kiss you. Starts off gently, but he picks up the pace. You return the kiss, trying to keep up with him. He gets up from his position to lift you up, moving further up the bed. 

He wastes no time in removing the bottom half of your clothes, throwing your pants and panties on the floor, then spreading your legs so he can take a good look. "I know you said no sex tonight. So it's okay if I don't get my orgasm but I'm about to make sure you get yours." He kisses your inner thighs, then moves dangerously close to your cunt. Before doing anything else, he moves back up to kiss you on the lips. "Do you want me to stop?" 

You shake your head and he smirks down at you before going back to his position, making himself comfortable on the bed. He shifts your thighs over his shoulder and you tremble with anticipation. "Ready for part two of your present, baby?" 

𝄖

Jungkook breathes out a sigh looking at the notifications on his phone. Missed calls and messages, mostly from Suga. He dials Suga's number and braces for the yelling he's about to receive. 

"Where the fuck are you?" Suga seethes on the other end as soon as the line clicks. Jungkook winces. His calls and messages had come in while he was in bed with you earlier and no way was he about to answer the calls while he was making you scream his name in bed. “Why didn’t you pick up my calls?”

“Relax.” Jungkook says calmly. “I was busy. What’s up?”

“Busy?” Suga scoffs. An uncomfortable silence follows before Suga speaks again. “Don’t tell me, you’re with that girl again, aren’t you?”

The lack of response on Jungkook’s part confirms it and Suga groans. He can’t understand it; the vast difference he sees in Jungkook in the last couple of months blows his mind. He’s known Jungkook since they were kids. But now, Suga feels like he doesn’t even know him, not since you came into the picture. 

“Does it matter?” Jungkook sighs. He knows it does. “What happened?”

“We got a lead and needed backup.” Suga says. 

“Did you get him?” 

“What do you think?” Suga yells over the phone. “He got away, you fucking idiot.” 

“I said I was busy, didn’t I?” Jungkook fumes, keeping his voice down so he doesn’t wake you.

“Dude, what is up with you?” Suga’s voice is calm now. It’s even more worrying when he’s not yelling. “Last night, you were talking about not wanting to be captain. Is this what it’s all about? Y/N? What exactly are you trying to do here? Get married to that bitch, have kids and live a normal life? Do you seriously think that’s gonna happen?”

“Don’t. Call her. A bitch.” Jungkook clenches his teeth, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. But he knows whatever Suga’s implying is true. Being part of the organisation they’re in makes things complicated. 

“You think you can just waltz out of this establishment without any harm coming your way? You know too much already. And you don’t think that if the guys find out about your girl, they’re gonna come after her? It’s just not realistic Jungkook.”

He steps to the door of your room, watch as you sleep soundly, blankets covering your form. 

“Look I seriously don’t give a fuck about you having a girlfriend.” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “But I’ve seen her. She’s not about this life, is she? If you think she can handle it, then hey by all means you can do whatever you want. But you can’t even pick up my calls when I need you, you’re missing work...this isn’t going to work out. You need to make a choice. Are you in, or out?” 

Jungkook steps away from the door and over to the small window in the living room, overlooking the street below. He thinks, silence on both ends of the call. 

You stir from your sleep just then, feeling warm. The heater must be up too high. You roll over to switch it off, then realise the empty spot where Jungkook's supposed to be. There's no light from under the toilet door, so you look for him outside. And you find him, standing by the window, a hand on the window pane with his forehead against it, and the other holding a phone to his ear. 

“I’ll do it.” You hear him say. You were about to go up to him, but curiosity gets the better of you and you wait for him to finish. “You can trust me.” 

It’s all he says before he exchanges greetings with the other person on the line and hangs up the phone. He sighs, dropping his arm to the side, forehead still leaning on the window pane. You go up to him before he turns and finds you standing there. He jolts in surprise when you walk up to him and wrap your warm arms around his waist. His skin feels cool, probably from standing at the window, which means he must have been there for a while. 

“What are you doing?” You mumble with your cheek pressing against his back.

“Baby, why are you up?” He asks softly, turning around to hold you. “I had to take a call. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Oh.” You say, looking up at him sleepily. “Do you have to go? Don’t go.” 

“I’m not going anywhere baby.” He slides the window down and lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him. He carries you back into bed and crawls in right beside you. “I’m gonna stay right here. With you.”

"Good." You hum, settling nicely in his arms. 

"I love you." He whispers into the night and it's the last thing you hear before you're drifting away into a deep sleep where you dream of him. 

[thirsty-x1]

Crush On U | Han Seungwoo

Request:

crush on u is one of my favorite songs !!!! like..... it’s just so good. do you think you could write a smutty / angst sort of thing with seungwoo inspired by it??? i sorta get secret idol relationship from it but that’s just me !! it’s upto you ofc but i’d love to read that ⭐️🥺

↬ Pairing: Seungwoo x fem!reader

↬ Genre: Smut, slight Angst, Fluff, it has all of it

↬ Warnings: explicit language, oral sex, unprotected sex.

↬ Word Count: 2.7k

↬ A/N: please, I beg of you, listen to Crush On U before reading this story. This song was literally written and produced by Seungwoo in 2017 and he dedicated it to Alices. If you read the lyrics, you will notice he is a little teasing shit. I love him.

It wasn’t unusual for you to stare at the screen, smiling at the soft expressions your boyfriend made, answering now and then despite knowing that he couldn’t hear you anyway. You had grown used to it at some point: the cancelled dates, the abruptly ended phone calls, and the lack of messages. Sleeping alone wasn’t something that made you uncomfortable anymore, but there were small things that you couldn’t change. Somehow, you always ended up buying more food than necessary, or setting up the table for two, or playing a movie and turning around to make a comment to the unfilled seat beside you, or knocking on the studio door to ask something before realizing that there wasn’t going to be any reply. It saddened you, but there was nothing that Seungwoo could do to avoid it, either.

Touring, fan meetings, promoting, dance practice, vocal training, song writing, exercising… It was his dream and he was making it become a reality. You loved seeing his expression whenever they got recognized, or watching the fan cams and notice how much he really enjoyed being on the stage. Despite all that, your heart clenched whenever you realized that you weren’t by his side to celebrate his birthday, or his achievements, or any kind of holiday. All you could do was to smile whenever he got the opportunity to video call you, telling you about his whole day, and you had to hide your emotions in order to not make him feel guilty. Because you knew that he would end up blaming himself, even if both were aware of the situation.

Another of his videos started playing, this time a compilation of sweet interactions with his fans, and you melted. He was always so good, not just with you but with everyone surrounding him, and that was probably what you loved the most. Humble, kind, considerate… Those were mere words that couldn’t even start to describe how amazing Seungwoo really was. Up to this point, you had managed to control your jealousy and fear, but the insecurity kicked in every now and then, after all you still were human and couldn’t really help it.

A rush of loneliness washed over your body and you stopped the video, the still image of his gentle eyes almost bringing tears to your own. Sighing, you turned off the phone and started to walk towards the bedroom when a notification popped up, the bright screen distracting you for a bit.

Seungwoo ♥:

21:56 Open up, I have something to show you.

You quirked an eyebrow. Did he mean he had sent you a link or something? There weren’t any other messages though. After a few seconds, noticing that you didn’t reply, he sent another text.

Seungwoo ♥:

21:58 I meant the door. Open the door. I’m waiting.

The beating of your heart suddenly shoot up, an incessant ringing in your ears as you tried to process the words quickly. You read the message over and over again, as if to find something that indicated it was off. Were you asleep? The soft knocking on the door caught your attention and you ran towards it, not even thinking anymore as your hands fidgeted with the keys in hand, making it hard to open it, a tall figure completely covered coming into view. You could recognize it immediately: the scent, the bangs that covered his eyes under the black cap, the soft eyes that stared right back at you over the mask covering half of his face, his broad shoulders… Your arms were around him in a second, your face burying in his chest. He stumbled backwards, giggling as he held you closer, the air escaping your lungs in the tightest embrace ever.

“How are you here? I thought…”

“I haven’t seen you in months. You got even prettier, somehow.” You slapped his arm, knowing pretty well that you looked like a mess: hair tied up, wearing your old pajamas, bare faced. “I like you like this, I mean it.”

“Yes, well, I haven’t seen you all natural in a long time.” He laughed and took off the cap and the mask, showing his no-make up face and hair sticking out. “Not fair, even like this you look fucking gorgeous.”

As he laughed, you stepped aside to let him in, observing as he took off his jacket and left it on one of the chairs, sweat stains barely visible through his black shirt. You closed the door and stared at him incredulously, squinting your eyes and crossing your arms, his eyebrows shooting up when he finally realized your inquiring gaze.

“What?”

“Did you run here again?” He froze on the spot, giving himself away. “Last time you caught a cold because of that! Plus, you will get spotted easily, you aren’t really the kind of guy that goes unnoticed…”

While you kept nagging him, Seungwoo smiled and walked towards you, pinching your cheeks and stopping your blabbering before placing a kiss on your lips, shutting you up completely. Your whole face flushed a thousand colors, a mix of embarrassment and slight annoyance stirring up in your stomach as you controlled yourself and boop his nose lightly, although the touch denoted more.

“I couldn’t help it, the car is way too slow and I get anxious. Besides, they will always give me life lessons on the way.” You chuckled at his comment, giving up.

“You said you had something to show me, right? Your sole presence is enough but I’m still curious…” He brightened up at the mention of it and hurriedly grabbed his phone with one hand as the other took yours, pulling you to the sofa and making you sit on his lap.

“It’s a song… I-I made it. I want to show it to the agency and release it for the public.”

“Really? That’s amazing! Is it any of the ones that you showed me?” He shook his hand, biting his lip as he handed you the phone and snuggled his face on your shoulder.

“Just– Listen to it. I want you to be the first one to listen to it.”

Your chest filled with warmth as you pressed play, the beat being quite groovy. The lyrics didn’t take much time to come and they made your heart jump. Half of the song in, you could sense the knot in your throat and your sight getting blurry. The song drifted to the end, replaying and Seungwoo finally stopped hiding, wondering why you hadn’t said anything, eyes going wide when he saw the trails of tears run down your cheeks. He dried them with the sleeve of his shirt, no words coming out while he did it, not sure of what could he even say.

“I really liked it… I loved it so much.” Your voice broke while you were speaking and he took a deep breath, caressing your hair as you finally started sobbing loudly. “I’m sorry, I don’t… I can’t…”

“Shhh, I know. I know.” He cooed at you, softly swaying your body. “I love you, I really do. I know it’s not the best thing, but I swear I was completely sincere.” His words only made you cry even more.

“I love you too.” You started to recover, facing him. “I m-missed you so much…” He couldn’t help but to giggle at the small pout you were making, your swollen face looking way too adorable in his eyes.

He kept hugging you, waiting for you to stop, although he had to admit that he was also holding back his tears. When he noticed you had stopped crying and now were simply laying against his body, completely still, he realized that there was something else.

“You seem to be in deep thought.” You blinked a few times at his remark.

“Ah, yeah, well… You know… The lyrics are wonderful but the beat…” His expression turned serious, ready to take any criticism. “Isn’t it too suggestive?” Evidently, you had taken him by surprise.

“S-Suggestive?”

“Yes, like… The ‘babygirl’, the almost-moans, the feeling… It seems almost erotic.” He was pressing his lips, trying to not laugh at your furrowed brows. “I’m not sure I want everyone to hear you like this.”

Seungwoo chuckled again, running his nose on the side of your neck, sending chills down your spine as his hand started touching your thigh delicately. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, tickling your nape, his mouth close to your ear as his fingers played with your hair, letting it loose.

“Then how about I let you hear me now? In the way that only you can make me sound.”

His whisper was innocent but the connotation behind his words was the most sinful thing ever. You shifted your body to straddle him, leaving his phone aside, the song still playing as you attached his lips to yours. Melting into the kiss, you felt him massaging the inside of your thighs, and he left a soft sigh as you started to grind against him. The temperature between both of your bodies started to raise, the gentle touch turning into a needier one with each kiss, his hands slipping past the band of your pajamas and grasping your ass.

Tired of the teasing, your fingers tangled in his hair, eliciting a whine from him. That was it. Those were the sounds that only you could hear, that he never showed to anyone but you. You smiled and kissed him again, swallowing his tiny whimpers, biting his bottom lip when you felt his hardness against you. Slowing down, you got off him and kneeled, wasting no time in pulling his erect member out and sucking him off. Usually you would have teased him, but all this time abstaining from each other had been enough. You bobbed your head, making sure to lubricate him enough and his hands came to grip your hair, moving the few strands of your hair and as you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, you couldn’t help but to notice that small detail.

“Is this what you meant when you said you fell in love seeing my hair tied up?” He was about to explain when you suddenly engulfed his swollen tip, causing him to throw his head back.

“F-Fuck… Maybe I did.” The view before him was way too erotic, and he thanked the heavens for having you.

Maybe you were feasting yourself a little too much because Seungwoo finally tugged on your hair and pulled you up, changing your positions in a swift motion, his hands already discarding of your clothes. However, after all that and unlike you, he took his time: his fingernails grazing over your skin, stimulating you slowly. He started placing soft kisses on your skin in the lightest way possible, the contact was brief but so sweet that you didn’t dare to ask him to hurry up. You felt like groaning in frustration when he moved the fabric of your underwear aside, the pad of his fingers rubbing on your folders, starting by the outer zone and then drifting to your middle, slipping in his middle and ring fingers as he teased your clit with his thumb. It was so loving, so devoted, and so eternal. The sensation started to become too much as he fingered you, his tongue lapping at your juices.

Just like he had done before, you gripped his hair, but even if you tried to stop him, that only seemed to motivate him even more. He became more passionate, his pace picking up as his eyes fixed on your expression, seeing you in complete bliss almost made him cum on the spot. As you started to tighten around him, he pressed up, smirking when he found your spot and you came unexpectedly. He got up, leaving you empty as he indicated you to open your mouth to suck on his fingers, keeping you busy with your own taste as he aligned and thrust into you, your moan muffled. It wasn’t long until his own sounds started to fill the air, sounding like music to your ears, the song playing for the trillion time as he fucked you to the rhythm. The overstimulation traveled through your body, your nails digging into his back through his shirt, and you had to hold back in order to not paint his whole neck with purple and red. As his hips faltered, he hid his face on the crook of your neck, burying himself deep inside of you each time, your second orgasm ripping through you almost at the same time as he started spilling into you, filling you in the most delicious way.

For a few minutes, he didn’t move, enjoying the closeness and the warmth that both of your bodies exchanged. Both of you hissed when he pulled out, and you couldn’t help but to chuckle as he panicked seeing his seed drip out of you, taking off his shirt as a last resource to try and not make a mess. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision, considering that the sight of his exposed chest and abdomen had you biting your lips, making him get startled and laugh at your reaction.

“Like what you see?” A dumbfounded smile spread on his face, complete innocence and dorkiness taking over in contrast to the hot mess he was just before.

“I have always liked what I see.”

Not too long after that, both were laying down, cuddling on the bed. Suddenly, all the lonely nights evaporated into nothing as you inhaled his scent, your hands drawing nothings on his exposed skin. Your fingers traced his tattoos, the line of his muscles, his jaw… All in the most deliberate way, as if you were trying to engrave every detail into your memory for when he went away again. His eyes tried to do the same, watching every expression you made, the sound of your voice, getting goosebumps at your thoughtful touch. His chest fluttered a little.

“You know… I really meant what I said on the song.” You nodded absent-mindedly. He shook his head, grabbing your chin lightly so you would look at him and focus. “I genuinely want to fill the rest of my future with you. I don’t feel like hiding this anymore.”

No sound left your mouth. Those were the exact words you wanted to hear since so long, but right now, there was something off. Even if he said that, you knew that next morning he wasn’t going to be by your side, nor the day after that. You knew that he wouldn’t be with you on the rainy days, or to hold you when you felt lonely. You also knew that it wasn’t easy to come out to the public, and that his career could get damaged from it. Yet you wanted that, you wanted him all to yourself, and you felt selfish for it.

“Even if I feel the same way, I think it’s better like this. At least for now. I’m happy to just be with you, and to see people love you like I do. You deserve this and I don’t want it to be taken away from you, what if you end up–”

“I won’t regret it.” He cut you off abruptly, sitting down in the bed and stared into your eyes. “I have more than just a crush on you. It’s so much more. Maybe it won’t last a life time, maybe it will, I can’t know that, but I do know that I want to live with you each day from now on.”

“Me too.” There was no use in fighting against him. You believed his words, but you couldn’t do that to him anyway. “The song… The song is enough for me. Each time I listen to it, I’ll remember you and your promises. Let’s make it our own, personal secret.”

“Fine.” He chuckled, surrendering to you. “I will make my huge crush on you public through the song.”

You were thankful that he took it in a good way, your body snuggling against you to enjoy what was left of the night in his tight embrace. Both stayed asleep, not thinking about what was going to happen the next day and just seizing the short moments you shared, making them undying.

I am: soft. I love his song so much so I really hope I made it some justice with this story ㅠㅅㅠ Please, go stream it because he deserves it so fucking much.

~Nani

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