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soaps-mohawk · 5 months ago

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I just saw someone talk about Simon Riley being a rapist and the only way they tried to confirm it is by saying that he is a war criminal and all soldiers are misogynistic and sexist and they also talked about how he dreamt of hurting women in the comics when that's quite literally a normal reaction by being raped by both men and women (what I mean is that abused people sometimes dream of becoming someone they're not and don't want to be) but they conveniently forgot to mention how that "dream" was a nightmare. (Just wanted to rant about this and see your opinion)

The sigh I let out when I saw this ask this morning.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing this discourse. Not just in this fandom but in every fandom. Maybe it's just because I'm old and my frontal lobe is fully developed, or maybe it's because I was in fandom back in the days where there were no tags. You were lucky if you got a warning at the beginning of a fic. Most fics you walked in blind and if you didn't like something? You hit the back button and found something else.

This sudden mainstreaming of fandom has ruined these spaces. People come in, refuse to "learn the rules" that most of us learned by just existing in these spaces and watching others interact. There were no written rules back then. We learned by observing and occasionally being guided on fandom etiquette by those more experienced than us. Now it's just like people come in expecting fandom to be like every other space on the internet and then get defensive and angry when they realize it's not. Fandom is cringy. It's nerdy. It's happy and sunshine and it's dark and ugly like every media out there. Us creators and those of us more experienced in fandom have been screaming how to exist in fandom spaces from the rooftops but no one is listening and then everyone wonders why creators are leaving these spaces. Why fandoms keep getting abandoned.

All of that aside, this discourse about FICTIONAL characters pisses me off. Simon Riley is a FICTIONAL character. He has no morality, there is no right or wrong because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him do whatever you want to do because he's NOT REAL. You can give him wings and have him fly and guess what?? Cool, that can happen because he's NOT REAL. You want to make him a rapist? Cool, you can do that because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him whatever you want to make him because he's a character. He's not a living, breathing human being. There are no consequences of his actions because he's FICTIONAL!!!

Don't even get me started on this sudden discourse about dark fics and dead dove that's appeared recently. Dark media has existed for literal centuries. The Epic of Gilgamesh from 1800 BCE. The Odyssey. Mostellaria by Plautus. The Castle of Otranto published in the 1700s. Frankenstein. Dracula. The works of Edgar Allan Poe. Lolita. Hell, look at the Bible. The Bible, especially the old testament, is fucked up. Even in the watered down, bastardized King James version, the things the old testament "God" supposedly did, when you sit and actually think about them outside the lens of religious brainrot, are super fucked up.

People have been creating dark media for a long time. Horror has existed for a long time because it plays to our worst fears. It gives us a safe way to express those fears and to experience them without having to experience them first hand. You wouldn't bitch at a horror movie director for including things like rape and gore and murder in their movies?? So why is writing different? You think every horror movie director agrees with the things they portray on screen? You think every horror movie director would go out and murder someone just because they made a movie about it? No, because we're allowed to portray things in all forms of media, we're allowed to write things without morally agreeing with them. Guess what, most people that write rape or assault or violence, aren't going out and doing those things in real life. They don't support those things in real life. In fact, people that write dark fanfics are some of the loudest protesters against those things.

If you want to make Simon Riley a real person, guess what? He's not going to be even morally grey. Most people in the military are not good people. They're not. The people that are good people in the military, or were in the military, are the ones saying that the loudest. People that got tricked into joining, people that got promised things, people that did it because they had no other choice and then realized what it was really like after getting in? Those are the people to listen to. Not Call of Duty, not the people trying to convince you to join because they're glorified sales people and have a quota to fill. Look up videos of what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan at the hands of American and British soldiers. You would not like Simon Riley if he were a real person.

But he's not real. He's FICTIONAL. Even as a fictional character, he's not a good person. So many Call of Duty fans put on the blinders and ignore the fact that these men are out here committing awful acts of violence and killing people because they're "the good guys." People love to forget that Price literally kidnapped a woman and a child and had them held at gunpoint to get information out of someone. Not only that, he was okay with it. If he were a real person that did that, you would not be questioning if he were a good person or not. You can tell the people that have never played the games or watched playthroughs, who only know these characters through the lenses of fanfics and artwork and headcanons.

Call of Duty is military propaganda. They paint these men as heroes, make it easy to put the blinders up and ignore the things that are happening, the things they're doing so that they can convince young men that they want to do that and they should join the military so they can go out and do that too. That's Call of Duty's audience. That's who they're creating these games for. These young, impressionable boys who get excited by the violence and the action who will go on to fill quota numbers for recruiters. Call of Duty was not made for us, the people writing fanfiction and creating art for it. This side of the Call of Duty fandom will be the first to tell you all of this.

This side of the fandom creates fanworks which would turn Activision's eyes red. We babygirlify their military propaganda because it actively goes against what Activision is trying to do. It goes against what Call of Duty is at its core. Sure, some people water it down a lot, and others keep it more realistic to what these men would be like in real life, because it's FICTION. You can portray these characters however you want because that's what fiction is for.

And guess what, anon? Rape kinks exist. Consensual non-consent exists. It's well known. And guess what? Victims of sexual assault and rape can develop those kinks as a coping mechanism. Here's a study from the NIH website, and if that's too complex for you, here's a VICE news article that uses that study. People can write rape and rape kinks and CNC and noncon and not support it in real life. People can write those things to bring awareness to the fact that they happen to people in real life, or because people in real life have those kinks. People write those things to help victims, to support them. It's cathartic. Dark media most often is created for catharsis. It gives people an outlet, and it allows people to experience those things in a safe, controlled environment for whatever reason.

And that's the thing, anon. People don't have to give anyone a reason for why the consume that kind of media. Creators don't owe anyone an explanation as to why they create it. It's none of your business, and if you're not comfortable with it, then don't consume it. You can turn off the TV if a horror movie is too much for you. People walk out of theaters all the time because a movie is not what they were expecting, be it because it was bad or because it was too graphic or violent or disgusting. You start reading a book and you don't like it for whatever reason? You put the book down and pick up another. Why do people have such a problem with not reading fanfics they don't like? Why do people have such a hard time just blocking creators that make things they don't want to see. Most dark fic and dead dove creators put ample warnings on their blog and their posts. That's why those tags exist. You don't like it and you don't want to see it? Then block and move on and let others enjoy what they want to enjoy.

You pearl clutchers are ruining fandom and soon there won't be anything for you to enjoy. If you can't handle fandom, then don't be in it. There is no algorithm here. You're going to see things you don't want to see and it's very easy to just block and filter tags. There was a time on Tumblr where you couldn't filter tags. I remember those days. You had to download the X-kit extension to block things, and that only worked on desktop. The fact Tumblr gave us the option to filter tags on the site and on the app was a big deal when it was rolled out. I remember so many people that didn't want to use the app when it first came out because you couldn't block potentially triggering tags.

It's not a creator's problem if you were triggered by their media. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings and it's a blessing that it's become so normalized to include warnings at the beginnings of fics. There's websites that exist for other forms of media that will give trigger warnings. If you can look up trigger warnings for a movie and decide not to watch it, you can look at the trigger warnings for fics and decide not to interact with it. You're not out here emailing the directors and producers of movies that include triggers you don't like, telling them they're awful people for including those things in their movie and they shouldn't. Yet you have no problem coming into the comments and inboxes creators who do this FOR FREE because we wrote one dark fic. Because we wrote something that's triggering to you.

And yes, some abuse victims go on to be abusers, some people continue that cycle because they don't have the help and support to break it. It's a sad thing that happens, but it happens. It happens in the fictional world and it happens in real life. People can make that happen to fictional characters for whatever reasons they want.

I've written dark fics. I've written several. I consume "disturbing" media for fun. I've read books and watched movies that would send these pearl clutchers to the hospital. Hell, I've probably written things (some published, some that will never see the light of day) that would turn these pearl clutchers inside out. Guess what? That's okay because it's FICTION. It's cathartic. I don't have to give my reasons why because it's no one's business except those I decide to tell because I trust them and I know they'll support me. I don't support those things in real life. Just because I write for Call of Duty doesn't mean I support the things the game portrays. If you consume Call of Duty media be it the games or fanfiction, does that mean you support what the game supports? What the creators of the games support? What militaries around the world support?

Think about that next time.

I’ve made my stance very clear here before, but I’ll do it again. In real life, I am anti military, anti war, anti gun violence, anti genocide, anti fascism, anti terf, anti homophobia, anti conservative, anti rape, anti domestic violence, anti colonialism and pro choice.

Just because I may create or consume media with those things in it, does not mean I support them. It's high time some of these pearl clutchers learn that.

The next time you want to come into a creator's inbox or comments and spew hatred towards them because of the things they write, why don't you do something useful with your time instead.

This will be my only discussion on this topic. I will not be answering any more asks like this. I will delete and block anyone who tries to come "well actually"-ing into my inbox. If you don't agree with this stance, then get off my blog and block me.

#free Palestine #free congo #free Sudan #free everyone living under a colonial apartheid regime #this was not directed at you anon #I just used you in the general sense #unless you think like that then it was #answered

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quantum1mmortality · 7 days ago

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OMGGG I LOVE UR MARRIAGE HCS FOR CURLYYY (love that blue eyed man) also speaking of his child do you think he would want more than 1? And if so i might think that man has a breeding kink...

Using this ask to feed you guys while I work on my full length curly fic- hopefully it'll be out by Friday, then I can start working on requests again

I see Curly as the type of guy who would want 3 kids. No more, no less. Well, maybe more, it depends on your feelings of it though.

I know it's cliche, like everyone on Tumblr writes every man with a breeding kink, but curly would have one. Unlike every other man on Tumblr, he doesn't get off to the whole "marking territory" aspect of it. He gets off to the fact that you, his wife, chose him of all people to have kids with. He gets off to knowing that the woman of his dreams is carrying a child that HE helped make.

To him, it's much more about the intimacy of 'breeding' than anything else. He likes how close it makes him feel to you. Honestly, he didn't even know that it was a kink of his until you asked him to cum inside you for the first time. It's like something in his brain clicked, like his frontal lobe had been fully developed since that moment.

#mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing curly #captain curly x reader #curly x reader #curly x reader smut #curly mouthwashing #i feel like hed be really specific too #hed want older twin girls and a boy #okay im done now thank you

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 3 months ago

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OK I'm probably alone in this and I'm sure everyone will think I'm more of a bitch than they already think I am for this but. Am I alone in finding Chris's horniness lately a little excessive? The only reason he's not coming across as a weirdo on a dating app is the fact that he's attractive and well liked. But if a random guy from work or school or whatever kept posting the stuff he posts and showing his body and talking about sex all the damn time, we wouldn't find it sexy or cute. Like I was watching some videos from his performance and I just didn't find it sexy or arousing, just honestly a little sad. It comes off as desperate to me, because it happens so often.

Babe, not going to lie in that you may be one of the few Stays who have this opinion but I'm going to include it anyway and tag some of my other babygirls in it.

What videos were you watching because I need context for this thought because I honestly hadn't thought about this topic until I saw your ask.

I can't tell if it is excessive or if we are seeing Chris for who he is w/o the filtered down version, maybe he is just naturally this fuckboyish and he's finally revealing it.

Because his frontal lobe has developed so all his decisions are strategic so it's not even a maturity issue but I've been a Stay since 2020/21 so I'm used to these antics with him and his constant flirtatious nature.

I also agree with @torialefay in that I think he's fucking bitchless right now and he might be using the stage as a way to subconsciously live out his fantasies and get all those endorphins that you would normally get from a relationship.

And that's not even a jealousy thing because I don't get jealous over idols and their love lives.

I feel chris is honestly just a rlly lonely guy who's looking for those intense romantic and emotional connections and he can't get it so he's created a borderline unhealthy/leaning on toxic parasocial connection with Stays.

And this manifests in this 'simulated' relationship where we both feel desired, prioritised, supported and 'seen'.

So excessive? I don't think so- he's been like this for a long time.

Desperate and horny? Yeah probably, but I can't judge because I am also desperate and horny for this man all the time.

Tagging my other babygirl moots @gnabnahcsworld @lyramundana @berryberrytan @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @chansfavoritetoy

#bang chan smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #answered ask #skz smut #bangchan smut

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oinkinpigprince · 6 months ago

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Charlie x sensitive reader? I cry over damn near everything 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️

WAAAAAAAAH, I’m so sorry to hear 😔😔. I got my pre frontal lobe smoothied after the 8th grade so I don’t have to deal w/ those ‘emotions’ :33

Charlie x sensitive reader

He is, probably the least emotionally developed person. Charlie doesn’t cry, he’s been desensitized due to the internet, bros just emotionally constipated

At first he has ZERO idea what to do. You could be balling your eyes out right next to him and he just sits and nods. He’s just trying to assess the situation

Pats your back and goes “there there man, I feel ya” (HE DOES NOT HE IS A LIAR). He’s trying his best but it’s such in awkward moment

Sometimes it helps, during a sad movie you ball your eyes out and says “mood”. You’re so perplexed you stop crying: it’s magic lol

It’s honestly a skill, he’s just so awkward. Can’t help it, if anyone starts crying around him he’s instantly uncomfortable. Don’t worry he doesn’t care, he’s just so confused on what to do or say

He doesn’t really understand, helps you nonetheless. As you’re sobbing into his shirt he’s just like “it was just a video of a raccoon” while rubbing your back

Charlie lets you sob into his hoodie, he will not move an inch. If you’re crying and clinging to him, he’s staying put. Heaven nor hell could move that man

He’s very even tempered so if you need help w/ figuring out if it’s an actual logical decision or you’re just whining, he’s very blunt w/ it

Please don’t ask him for any opinions, bro doesn’t think twice about being honest. Of course he thinks you’re pretty and amazing but no he would not love you if you were a worm

#smiling friends #smiling friends x reader #smiling friends x reader headcanons #smiling friends headcanons #charlie dompler #charlie dompler headcanons #charlie dompler x reader #Charlie dompler x reader headcanons #smiling friends charlie #smiling friends charlie headcanons #smiling friends Charlie x reader #smiling friends Charlie x reader headcanons #smiling friends charlie dompler #smiling friends charlie dompler headcanons #smiling friends Charlie dompler x reader #smiling friends Charlie dompler x reader headcanons

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missathlete31 · 2 months ago

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So happy that he is happy and thriving and he even talks about how he has chemistry with everyone!

Some interview highlights:

Powell: I’m really happy, I don’t know. I’ve been known to have a lot of energy. I don’t get burnt out easily. I’m more prone to the kind of burnout where you’re trying to do the thing you want to do and you’re not getting to do it. But right now, I’m getting to do the thing I love and the thing I really want to do. There’s no reason to be burnt out.

Powell: Let’s see what’s on my actual Pinterest. [Looking at his phone]

You have a Pinterest?

Powell: [Incredulously] Of course I have a Pinterest. OK, I have a house in Austin that I’m trying to get in shape, so I’m currently doing that Pinteresting. For my next projects I have some inspirational Pinterest [boards]. I have a cowboy boot Pinterest, that’s pretty specific. I don’t know if you ever heard about this, but when I did Hit Man with Adria Arjona, we put a Pinterest board together of inspirational pictures.

Do you think there’s something about getting your big break when you’re in your 30s and your frontal lobe is fully developed and you’ve seen a lot of movies that makes success extra great?

Powell: You know what, I do think that. I think one of the best things you can teach a kid — I don’t have kids! — but the best thing you can teach them is delayed gratification and that good things come to those who wait. I feel like if I had gotten even one one-hundredth of any of this when I wanted it that I would have been developed enough to appreciate it in the way I do now. I feel very grateful because of the detours on my journey. I’m sort of getting to take advantage of this moment in a way that I don’t know if I would have gotten to if that failure didn’t come so often. There’s something about your 30s — doing anything in your 30s! I even see that with people who get married later in life. It doesn’t feel like “We’ll see how these young kids get through it!” They call it a capstone marriage because you’ve gone through two separate paths and experienced all these things when you find someone. It makes you appreciate them and see them in a different way when you’ve already been through the fire. So I appreciate [this success] maybe more than someone in their early 20s.

STAY BUSY GLEN AND STAY HAPPY!

#glen powell #hit man #twisters #chad powers #audible #booked and busy #thirty flirty and thriving

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baekhyunsbestie · 24 days ago

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──★ ALL MINE ˙🌷͙֒ ̟ !!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: it's been months since you cut ties with your bff-turned-fwb. now, you’re stuck with a new guy who’s a total fucking letdown in the bedroom. but there’s no way you’re telling your bestie baekhyun that embarrassing detail, right? WRONG. you guys share everything. and of course, baekhyun won't stop teasing you about it—especially after another disastrous date. just when you've hit your limit, you come home to find him rummaging through the pantry, snacking like he runs the place. but don't worry, he's here to make it up to you!!!!! and by "make it up to you," i mean help release all of your pent-up sexual frustration, because that's what besties do, right? …right?!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 8.5k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. no specified age, but i'd say they're somewhere in their early-to-mid 20’s cus i can only imagine people w/o fully developed frontal lobes behaving this way, respectfully 😭🙂‍↕️ bff's to fwb's to bff's again to strangers to lovers. fluff, angst, and it ain’t a baekhyunsbestie fic if it don’t got some good ol’ nasty smuuuttttt. pet names, praise kink, cheating, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie after creampie after creampie (baekhyun deffo has breeder balls, don’t @ me), overstimulation (both f + m). you both are just two big meanie idiots who are in love with each other.

your phone lights up with a ping, the glow illuminating your face as baekhyun’s text pops up on the screen:

✶bestie baekhyun!!!✶

aaawwww, is that your little boyfriend who can’t make you cum??? you guys are so cute together!

attached is a screenshot of your recent instagram story— you and your latest fling cozied up at a movie date earlier this evening. a date that ended with you unsatisfied, yet again.

your gaze drifts across the room. baekhyun, lounging on the couch, meets your eyes with that signature, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. the one that makes your eye twitch in instant irritation. he’s enjoying this way too much and you want to pummel him into the ground.

it’s been a week since you let your embarrassing little secret slip—your boyfriend can’t make you cum. and now, for seven agonizing days, your infuriating best friend has been toying with that knowledge like it’s his new favorite game. poking at your frustration with every sly comment, every teasing smirk.

you’re seething, and sexually frustrated, wound tight and ready to fucking snap. baekhyun knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing your buttons like only he can, and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or let him finish what your boyfriend never could.

it’s your bi-weekly hangout with your friend group—same old routine: catching up over movies, playing drinking games, maybe getting high, with mindless banter and a sea of snacks. the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the air as you wait for takeout to arrive. you're surrounded by your closest friends, laughing, relaxed. but beneath the surface, you’re a storm waiting to break. every fiber of your being wants to blow up at him, but you can’t. no one knows about the “friends-with-benefits” situation that crashed and burned a few months ago, and you'd be damned if they found out. it would wreck the entire dynamic, fill the room with awkward tension, and you're not about to let that happen.

it lasted as long as it could before you realized you were starting to catch feelings— which definitely wasn’t part of the deal. you couldn’t admit that to him, though. no way, it’d be too embarrassing. you’d wreck the years of friendship that you have between you. so instead, you lied. you told him you were interested in seeing someone and wanted to give it a real shot.

one of your coworkers had been persistent about taking you out, and eventually, you gave in. he was great—amazing, even. a real charmer, with looks that could stop traffic, a sharp sense of humor, and a surprising attentiveness that made him seem like the total package. except for one small detail: he couldn’t take you to that edge, couldn’t push you past the brink where pleasure turns into toe-curling bliss. you tried to tell yourself that, with time and patience, he could learn. maybe, with a few more pointers, he’d figure out how to unravel you, bit by bit.

but the truth is, you don’t want to have to teach someone all over again. not when there’s someone who already knows every inch of your body, someone whose touch leaves you trembling without needing a single word. baekhyun. he’s the one who knows exactly where to touch, where to linger, how to make you drip with nothing but a glance or the graze of his fingers.

but, of course, it’s never that simple. because baekhyun is your best friend, and as much as you wish he could see you in the same way, he doesn’t—or at least, not in the way you need him to. and even though your boyfriend has been nothing but sweet and patient these past few months, the connection just isn’t there. the attraction feels muted, like a faded echo of what it should be.

it leaves you simmering with a frustration you can’t admit out loud, the kind that gnaws at you from the inside, bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest crack to spill over and consume you. you’ve been holding it together for so long, but every time you’re near baekhyun, every casual brush of his skin against yours, it pushes you closer to the edge. and you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending. how much longer you can keep this act going, knowing that the one person you truly want is right there, just out of reach.

suddenly overwhelmed and no longer in the mood for the night’s festivities, thanks to baekhyun, you decided to slip away quietly. feigning a tired smile, you excused yourself, blaming it on the onset of a cold you claimed was creeping up on you.

as you got up and gathered your things, slipping on your sweater to shield yourself from the chilly october evening, baekhyun let out an exaggerated yawn and announced he was heading out as well, drawing boos and groans from your friends that both of you were leaving.

feeling the walls close in, you rush to the door, needing to escape and breathe. your hands fumble to slip on your shoes, heart racing, fingers already gripping the cool metal of the doorknob. just as you’re about to turn it, baekhyun’s voice stops you, smooth but firm. "hey, let me take you home." his presence lingers behind you, his words almost a plea, warm and insistent.

without meeting his gaze, you replied coldly, “no, i’m fine. i’d rather walk,” waving him off dismissively. “goodnight, baekhyun.”

“w-wait!” he called out, but you were already closing the door in his face. you pulled your bag over your shoulder and tugged your sweater tighter around your neck, bracing against the crisp fall air.

your apartment was only a few blocks away, an easy ten-minute walk on most nights, but tonight, you lingered. every step was slower, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you wandered the quiet streets. you needed the extra time, the space to think about the growing weight of your situation.

your thoughts drifted to your boyfriend—should you break up with him? the idea gnawed at you. you even reached for your phone, fingers hovering over his name, but the words refused to come. how could you explain that nothing he did ever truly satisfied you? that every time, you had to guide him, instruct him, tell him how to touch you, how to kiss you. his attempts never stirred anything deep inside, and when he fucked you, it was mechanical—passionless, almost empty.

he wasn’t like baekhyun.

with baekhyun, you never had to say a word. he knew your body instinctively, knew how to make you unravel without asking. he never needed guidance to make you cum; it was as natural as breathing for him.

you approached your apartment complex, the weight of your unresolved dilemma still pressing heavily on your mind—caught between trying to make things work with your boyfriend and the tangled, confusing feelings you had for baekhyun. your shoulders slumped as your head hung low, chin brushing against your chest, your eyes tracing the cracks in the pavement. the world around you felt muted, distant, like you were moving through a fog, everything blurred and out of focus.

with a swift punch of the door code, the lock beeped softly, and the door groaned open. but before you could step inside, your breath caught in your throat. there, by the entrance, sat a pair of men’s shoes—worn but familiar, ones you couldn’t possibly mistake. they rested neatly by the door, as if they had been waiting for you, like he had been waiting for you.

a tired sigh slipped from your lips, recognition sinking into your chest. you didn’t need to look any further to know who was already inside.

you were hoping for a moment of solitude to finish gathering your thoughts, but there he was—baekhyun, rummaging through your pantry, helping himself to your snacks.

“baekhyun, what are you doing here?” you ask, voice laced with surprise and slight irritation.

it’s not like his presence is unusual—he’s your best friend after all. he used to drop by unannounced all the time, making himself at home as if your space was his own. he’d lounge on your couch, rummage through your fridge, and sometimes, without a word, he'd settle next to you for hours. but since you both called off your little "arrangement," those random visits had stopped completely. maybe it was because there was no longer that unspoken pull drawing him to your bed, or maybe—for once—he was trying to give you some space.

but let’s be real—baekhyun doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, especially when it comes to you. and little did you know, it’s not respect for your privacy that keeps him away. no, it’s because he can’t bear the thought of walking in and potentially finding you with someone else. the idea of seeing you with your new boyfriend—his hands where baekhyun’s used to be—would kill him. he’s already imagined it a hundred times, and each time, the image is enough to make him want to gouge his eyes out.

he peeks out from behind the pantry door, a bag of chips in his grip, he grinned. “oh, hey! you’re finally here.” he stuffed a few chips into his mouth, his voice muffled. “y’seemed a bit out of it, so i wanted to make sure you were okay.” with a playful poke to your cheek, causing you to grimace. “shoulda just let me drive ya home, cupcake. i’ve been here for like ten minutes already.”

"cupcake." the nickname pulls you into a warm memory from childhood. you and baekhyun, determined to bake cupcakes for a school event, laughed as flour flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a playful disaster. your moms watched in horror as you two struggled with the instructions, but when the cupcakes came out, you both beamed with pride—baekhyun mostly for the fun. at the event, you eagerly awaited your friends' reactions to your creations, excitement bubbling inside you. but when they announced their preference for another girl’s cupcakes—sparkling with glittery frosting—your heart sank. yours and baekhyun’s looked so plain in comparison. heartbroken, you ran off, only for him to find you, comforting you with a gentle pat on the head, "you’re my favorite, cupcake." he gently wiped away your tears as you choked out a trembling, "promise?" between your sobs. “mhm! promise,” and in that moment, he wrapped his pinky with yours, and with a playful press of your thumbs, you stamped it with sincerity. fifteen years later, the nickname still clings to you like the sweetest frosting.

"'m fine, really," you lied, your voice barely steady as your eyes darted away from his. you leaned against the kitchen island, elbows digging into the cool surface, pressing your forehead into your palms. no matter how you tried to mask it, the stiffness in your frame exposed the truth, even as you tried to keep your tone light. "’m just... not feeling well, that's all."

you’re stuck in the middle, torn between what feels safe and what feels right. you keep telling yourself that making it work with your boyfriend is the better option—after all, you’re terrified of losing baekhyun as your best friend. but a part of you knows, deep down, that things between you and baekhyun aren’t the same anymore. ever since you became friends with benefits, something shifted, something fragile that you’re afraid to acknowledge.

you can’t let yourself believe baekhyun could feel something deeper for you. it’s easier to stay in denial than face the possibility that the guy you’ve been so close to, the one who knows you inside out, might actually want more. maybe it’s because you’re scared—scared of ruining the friendship that’s been your constant, the one thing you can always rely on. so, you push down the thoughts, shove aside the feelings, and try to make things work with your boyfriend. but you know you’re unsatisfied. emotionally, physically—it’s not enough. yet, you cling to it, because you think it’s better to have a relationship that’s functional rather than risk something that might fall apart.

but baekhyun… with him, it’s different. you never have to try. things just fall into place with him, naturally, effortlessly. it feels so right—too right—and maybe that’s what terrifies you. being with him feels easy, like slipping into something that was always meant to be, and that scares you more than anything. what if you let yourself fall for him and everything changes? what if you lose him completely, not just as a lover but as your best friend?

you don’t know what you want. you can’t figure out if you should stay with your boyfriend just to avoid the risk of losing baekhyun, or if you should give in to the way you feel toward him. deep down, you know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. it’s the fear that stops you—the fear of losing control, of opening up to something real, of being vulnerable with someone who’s already seen all your cracks.

but how long can you pretend? how long can you stay in a relationship that leaves you empty, just because it’s safer than taking a chance? maybe what you’re really scared of isn’t losing baekhyun. maybe it’s the idea that being with him feels too perfect, too right, and that kind of happiness is something you don’t know how to handle. but sooner or later, you’ll have to make a choice—stay in a relationship that drains you, or risk everything for something that makes you feel alive.

but you’d deal with that headache another day.

his fingers curl around your arm, firm but not forceful, spinning you to face him. the movement is swift, catching you off guard, and you stumble slightly before his gaze locks with yours. “is this about my text earlier?” his voice is playful, but there’s an edge beneath the tease. “i’m sooooo sorry for teasing about your loser boyfriend, the one ya clearly don’t have any romantic feelings for,” he says, each word dripping with mockery.

“you’re such an ass, y’know that?” you want to yell at him, to snap back with something cutting, to defend your relationship like it actually means something. you want to push him out the door and slam it behind him, pretend that this tension between you doesn’t exist.

but you can’t. because baekhyun’s right. and even now, with him standing just inches away, you feel more electricity between you than you ever have with your boyfriend. the way he looks at you, the way the air between you thickens—it’s undeniable. infuriatingly so.

the atmosphere shifts, charged with something far more dangerous. his voice softens, but the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “finefinefine. ’m sorry, f’real, cupcake. hate seeing ya upset cus of me. how ‘bout i make it up to you, hmm?” his words are smooth, each one laced with a promise. “i can help ya forget all about your little boyfriend.”

the word lingers between you, thick with implication. you shift on your feet, heart racing. “well…i—i don’t know,” you stammer, your gaze falling to the floor. you can’t look at him. if you do, he’ll see it—the flicker of hope, the unspoken longing. you’ve tried so hard to bury it, to keep it hidden, but in moments like this, it threatens to spill out.

his fingers loosen slightly on your arm, but he doesn’t let go. instead, his thumb is rubbing circles, the gentle caress making it harder for you to keep it together. “i don’t know what i want,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. you’re not even sure if you’re convincing yourself or him. all you know is that if you meet his eyes, he’ll likely see everything you’ve been trying to deny: the truth that maybe you don’t want your boyfriend at all. maybe you’ve wanted baekhyun all along.

your eyes are glued to the floor and your trying your hardest to suppress the rising heat in your chest. his fingers slide from your arm up to your chin, gently tilting your face toward him. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, a gesture that sends a rush of heat through your body, making it impossible to think straight.

“look at me,” he whispers, his voice low and almost dangerous. slowly, your gaze lifts to meet his. “i don’t believe you,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. his eyes drop briefly to your mouth before returning to yours, darker now. “i think you do know what you want.”

suddenly his body is pressing into yours, the warmth radiating from him almost overwhelming. his hand slides up, cradling your neck, fingers gentle yet possessive, his thumb brushing along your jawline. your breath hitches as he leans in, lips hovering so close to yours you can feel his breath.

“baekhyun….w-we really shouldn’t…” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a weak attempt to stop what you know is inevitable. but your body doesn’t qute get the memo with the way you’re leaning into him, craving his touch.

“tell me to stop, then,” he whispers, lips brushing yours, his voice coarse with challenge. his eyes are locked onto yours, daring you to say it. to push him away.

but you can’t. every nerve in your body is screaming for more—for him. all the frustration from your boyfriend, the disappointment in every failed touch, every unsatisfying kiss—it all crashes over you at once. and baekhyun… baekhyun is standing right here, so close, so familiar. you miss him. you miss the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands knew exactly where to touch you, the way he could unravel you in seconds.

you can’t tell him to stop. not when you want him this badly.

your lips part in a breath, and that’s all the invitation he needs. his mouth crashes onto yours, the kiss full of urgency and raw, unrestrained need. his lips move against yours in perfect sync, fierce yet deliberate, like he’s pouring everything into this one moment. his tongue brushes against yours, coaxing a soft whimper from your throat, and his hand tightens slightly around your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like all the pent-up frustration you’ve been harboring melts away in an instant. all you can feel is baekhyun, his lips claiming yours, his body pressing you back against the wall with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve missed this,” he mutters between kisses, his lips barely leaving yours. “missed you.”

your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like never before. it’s not just the kiss—it’s everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve denied yourself. and now, here he is, reminding you of exactly what you’ve been craving.

when he finally pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours, you’re both panting, chests heaving. “see, cupcake?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “you know exactly what you want.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, fiercer this time, as if the mere thought of stopping is unthinkable. the kiss deepens, every inch of him pressing closer, until he’s got you in your room and on your bed, pinned beneath him. his body moves instinctively, shifting behind you, and within seconds, you feel him slide into you from behind, achingly slow at first. but the second he bottoms out, something shifts. a low groan rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin. he doesn’t even wait for you to adjust, he loses all control, thrusting with raw, feral intensity. his chest is flush against your back, the heat of his body overwhelming as your face presses into the pillow, muffling the broken moans spilling from your lips as you bite into the fabric, trying to hold on for dear life.

each relentless thrust from baekhyun feels like it’s stealing the very breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air. his movements are unyielding, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to reclaim every second of the time you’ve spent apart, making up for the last few months he couldn’t have you like this.

the sheets twist tightly in your fists, but no matter how hard you cling to them, it’s impossible to ground yourself—he’s pulling you deeper into the intoxicating blur of sensation. his pace is feral, his hips slamming into yours with an intensity that borders on overwhelming.

baekhyun moans, the sound rough and guttural, fueling the fire building inside you. his hands grip your thighs, possessive and firm, as he drives into you with a force that makes your entire body quake. the heady mix of sensation has you floating, completely consumed by him, by the way he moves, as if he’s trying to burn this moment into your skin, into your memory. each thrust pushes you closer to that edge, where all you can feel, all you can think about, is him.

his voice cuts through the haze—deep, raspy. "look at my pretty little angel... i’ve missed watching you fall apart for me." his words, tainted with hunger, ignite something in you. but you can’t find it in you to respond, not with the way he’s driving you to the edge.

his fingers sink into your hips, firm and punishing, and you know for certain that bruises will manifest if he keeps this up. each grip imprints on your skin, marking you as if he’s claiming you as his own. and you revel in it—every deliciously painful second. there’s something intoxicating about witnessing him completely lost, consumed by his need for you, making you feel more desired than ever before.

his breath is hot against your ear as he growls, "you're all mine, aren’t ya, cupcake?"

you can barely find your voice, breathless and overwhelmed, but somehow you manage to gasp out, "y-yes... all yours." how could you ever belong to anyone else when he's driving into you with such raw intensity, each thrust relentless, pushing you deeper into the mattress?

"yours," you repeat, the truth sinking in. you always have been. you never stopped.

baekhyun’s grip tightens at your affirmation, his pace quickening in response—he liked your answer. it’s clear in the way he devours you, body and soul. he’s using you like his personal plaything, his touch both possessive and unrelenting. but it’s the sounds spilling from his lips that keep you tethered to reality—reminding you that it’s still him. baekhyun. your baekhyun.

"baek," you whimper, voice shaky, barely audible over the sounds of your bodies moving in sync. he doesn’t respond right away, too lost in the pleasure rippling through him, but you see it—the way his eyes flicker open, wild and dark, his gaze locking onto yours. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not his usual playful grin. this one is predatory, dangerous.

“what’s wrong, cupcake?” he rasps, his voice dripping with amusement, though there's something almost menacing in the way he says it. "can’t—nnngghhh—handle it?"

your breath hitches, and the words you want to say cling to your tongue, refusing to come free. all you can manage is a faint nod, a fragile acknowledgment of the moment. he leans in closer, his lips grazing the delicate curve of your ear. his voice, a low whisper, dancing across your skin.

"good," he purrs, his voice now a deep, velvety growl. "cus i don’t think i can stop fucking this pretty pussy. fuck—i think she missed me."

what feels like hours later, after countless orgasms brought forth by his mouth and the myriad of ways he’s taken you, the sight before you is nothing short of devastating. baekhyun has already came inside you twice, and now, poised on the brink of losing himself again in a mean mating press, he looks utterly wrecked. strands of damp hair cling to his forehead, dark and slick with sweat, framing a face flushed with feverish desire. a deep crimson blooms across his cheeks, spilling down the bridge of his nose like a painting. his bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, the skin pale from the pressure, while his gaze—dark, ravenous, and locked on the intimate connection of your bodies.

the way his eyes feast on you sends a shiver racing down your spine, igniting a deep ache that only he can soothe. he trembles with barely contained desire, his body quaking with the need to claim you all over again, while you teeter on the edge, overwhelmed and craving more. before you know it, he’s flipping you back onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to meet his as your face and the upper half of your body sink into the mattress, the sheets slick with your sweat and juices.

his tip glides teasingly over your entrance, and you instinctively flinch away from the sensitivity, heart racing.

"nonono, cupcake, don’t do that," baekhyun’s voice rumbles, low and commanding, sending another jolt through you. his hands are firm as they guide your hips back against his waist, grip tightening, muscles flexing as he holds you in place. "run away from me again, and i’ll make it so ya can’t walk."

"p-please, baekhyun," you whine.

a deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, sending a shiver rippling down your spine. goosebumps rise, and baekhyun notices—he always notices—his hands roaming, possessive, over every inch of your trembling body. "uh-uh," his voice rough with lust, "you’re gonna take every last drop.”

his hips surge forward, harder, deeper, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. there's a flicker of something wild in them, raw.

“fuck, you’re s-so perfect. so perfect for me,” he growls, voice low and ragged, and it shoots straight through you, making your insides coil in response. “y’feel that, cupcake? how close i am?” his tone is a little desperate now, his restraint slipping as he fights to keep control. but you can see it—the need, the hunger that threatens to consume him.

another thrust, brutal, claiming, sends you spiraling, and you feel him everywhere. your breath hitches, and you know he can feel it too, how tightly you’re holding him inside, the way your body swallows him tells him just how much you want him—more than words ever could.

a hiss escapes him, sharp and guttural, his teeth gritting as he barely holds on. “you’re so tight—fuck—i’m gonna–ngh–fill you up again. you’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya? isn’t that right, my girl?” his voice is almost pleading now, the desperation to spill into you driving him mad. and when his thrusts grow erratic, each one landing deeper than the last, you know he’s close to breaking, just as you are.

it’s intoxicating, watching him unravel before you, the way his chest rises and falls erratically, every ragged breath he takes feeding into your own desire. at the sound of his name slipping from your lips—soft, and pleading—he finally tears his gaze from the mess he's made of you.

his eyes, dark and glazed over, meet yours, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but it’s strained, barely there. he doesn’t slow. if anything, he pushes harder, deeper, the rhythm relentless. sweat drips from his temple, tracing down his cheek, but he doesn’t even notice. his focus is singular, entirely consumed by you—by the way your body trembles, how your fingers grip onto the sheets, like a lifeline.

"say it again," he breathes, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you hear the urgency in it. "say my name."

you bite your lip, trying to hold back, but the intensity of his gaze—it undoes you. your eyes meet his, tear-filled and hazy, and you see the way his own eyes flicker, like he’s losing whatever control he had left.

and it’s the way your soft, pouty lips quiver as they whisper his name that gets him there, how your brows are knit together in an innocent plea while your eyes gaze up at him, brimming with love and vulnerability.

his jaw clenches, and he lets out a deep, guttural sound, so raw it sends shivers through you. he lowers his forehead to your back, his breath hot against your skin.

"holy–fuck—," he hisses through gritted teeth, his hand tightening on your waist, like he’s afraid to let go. his hips stutter before slamming forward, burying himself deep inside you one final time. his orgasm crashes over him like a violent wave, dragging him under. the guttural moan that escapes his lips is raw, primal, and he knows he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but in this moment, it’s beyond his control.

you feel the tremor in his body as he shudders against you, his skin flushed, slick with sweat, while his cock pulses inside you. his balls tighten and twitch, spilling hot and thick, the sensation drawing a gasping whimper from your own throat. his breath is erratic, each inhale a desperate gulp.

baekhyun lowers himself until his chest is pressed against your back, the weight of his body sinking into you, his lips brushing your ear as he pants, "you... you feel too fucking good. how do you... how do ya do this to me?" his voice is shaky, barely a whisper as his hands continue to clutch you, desperate, possessive.

you murmur something incoherent in response, your own mind foggy with aftershocks, but all you can focus on is the way he trembles against you. his forehead presses against back, and you feel him trying to steady his breath, his heart racing like he’s just run a marathon.

“goddamn,” he breathes, the words more for himself than for you, voice thick with awe. "i’m never… getting enough of this. never gonna get enough of you."

his body lingers against yours, the air still heavy with the remnants of pleasure. even as the sharp edge of your climax begins to dull, you can feel the way his hands stay locked on your skin, like he’s afraid to let go, fingers tracing invisible patterns over your waist as if committing every inch of you to memory. there's a yearning in his touch, a silent desperation that clings to the moment, stretching it out.

you pretend not to notice. you can’t let yourself notice. feeding into that fantasy, that he could want more than this—more than just the heat between your bodies—would be a mistake. he’s your best friend, and that’s all this is. two best friends tangled in each other, using one another to satisfy a need. nothing more, nothing deeper.

it couldn’t be.

the air in the room feels heavy, thick with something unspoken. at least that’s what it feels like to baekhyun, like a weight pressing down on his chest. as he’s silently pulling his clothes back on, he’s stuck in his head, running over the same thought again and again: how badly he wants to ask you to leave your boyfriend. he wants to beg you to give him a real chance. because you and him? you just fit.

it makes so much sense in his mind—you should know it too, right? i mean, the synergy between you two is undeniable—the way you connect, how effortlessly you bounce off each other, both physically and emotionally. no one gets his humor the way you do, no one reads him so instinctively, and no one fits him quite like you. you’re each other’s perfect match, and he feels it in every fiber of his being. what could be better than being in a committed relationship with your best friend, someone who already knows you inside and out?

he hesitates, throwing his shirt on as you rummage through your closet, probably looking for something more comfortable now that you’re home. his voice breaks the silence, casual but laced with a tinge of hope. “soooo... are you gonna break up with, uh, what’s-his-name?”

you pause, turning around with a look of genuine confusion on your face. “huh? oh—hmm, no. at least, not just yet... maybe i should give it another shot? he actually texted me not too long ago if i could meet him for drinks in a bit.”

the way his expression drops is almost comical, if it weren’t for the fact that you see it—the disbelief, the frustration flickering across his face before he can mask it. baekhyun has never been skilled at concealing his emotions, despite his insistence that he can. right now, it feels like he isn’t even attempting to hide the disappointment that hangs between you like a heavy fog.

if you could hear his thoughts, it’d be something like, ‘you’re going out with him? i literally just emptied my entire fucking ballsack into you, and you’re going out with him?’

his frown deepens, brows knitting together as if he’s trying to hold back a storm. before you can fully process what’s happening, he scoffs, shaking his head as if he could simply dismiss it all. “hah. right. okay, well, thanks for the nut, i guess. i’ll be seeing you around.”

each word drips with sarcasm, but beneath it, you can sense the hurt—an ache that tugs at the edges of your heart.

and with that, he turns on his heel and storms out of your bedroom, heading straight for your front door.

“baekhyun, wait!” you call after him, scrambling to catch up, grabbing his arm just before he can leave. he stops, but he doesn’t turn around, his body rigid with frustration. “what’s going on?”

he finally looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes catches you off guard. “what’s going on?” he repeats, voice low, almost a growl. “i’m sitting here, watching you play house with some guy who doesn’t get you—not like i do—and i’m supposed to just... what? be okay with it?”

you’re taken aback by the intensity in his tone, the way his words come out in a rush, like he’s been holding them in for way too long. “baekhyun, what the hell are you talking about?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “you really don’t get it, do you? we,” his hand gesturing between the two of you, “make sense, you and me. we’ve always made sense. and yet, here you are, wasting your time with someone who doesn’t even appreciate you like i do—who you don’t even like!”

you blink, a wave of dizziness washing over you as a flood of questions races through your mind, each one slipping away before you can grasp it. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick and suffocating.

“s-since when?” you stammer, doubt trembling in your voice. the ground beneath you feels unsteady, as if it might shift and swallow you whole.

“are you kidding me?” he scoffs, disbelief etching deeper lines into his face. “i was a fucking wreck when you called it off.” the intensity of his emotions surges, filling the quiet of your apartment with an echo that seems to reverberate off the walls. “when you told me you wanted to ‘try dating some other guy’—do you even realize how that felt? why do you think i haven’t been around much since then??? it’s because i literally cannot stand the thought of you with someone else. just the idea makes me sick to my fucking stomach. i can’t breathe knowing he’s with you when it should be me.”

oh.

ohhhh.

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, the unbearable guilt gnawing at your insides. but it’s the way his voice trembles, softening as it cracks beneath the weight of vulnerability, that makes your eyes sting with unshed tears. “but i wanted you to be happy,” he admits, each word wrapped in a bittersweet sincerity that tugs at your heart. “even if it meant not being with me… i knew what this was. i understood our arrangement. and i tried so hard, so fucking hard, to push these feelings down. deep down, i always felt it was something more. call it delusion, but it just felt so good pretending you were mine... even if you didn’t feel the same.”

every word is laced with desperation, like a raw, exposed nerve. the truth hangs heavy in the air, and you can see the storm brewing in his eyes—agitation just beneath the surface, threatening to overflow.

you can barely meet his gaze, heart racing as the reality of his feelings sinks in, pulling you under. “how come you’ve never said anything before?”

he takes a moment to steady himself, visibly wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. his gaze drops to the floor, fingers still tangled in his hair as he collects his thoughts. when he finally looks back up, his expression is a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“because i thought you’d be happier without me,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want to be the reason you felt trapped or guilty. i thought if you wanted to explore something new, then i should just... step back. but every day these last few months have felt fucking suffocating. i can’t shake the feeling that we belong together, even if it’s terrifying to say out loud.”

he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, eyes searching yours for understanding. “i’ve been a coward, honestly. i know that. i kept telling myself i should let you go, but every time i see you smile or hear your laugh, it just reminds me of what i’m missing. i wanted to tell you so many times, but i was afraid of ruining whatever friendship we had left.”

his voice thickens, eyes glistening with unshed emotion. “but i can’t keep pretending anymore. i want to be the one who makes you happy. i need to be that person, even if it means risking everything. even if it means putting everything on the line.”

he stands there, eyes searching yours, you can see the desperation in his gaze, but the weight of his words feels too heavy to bear, and you take a step back, creating space between you.

“baekhyun, i just—i don’t know if i can—” you start, but he interrupts, the hurt flashing across his face.

“don’t know if you can what? feel the same way? i’m here, laying it all out for you!” his voice rises again, tinged with anguish. “you’re with someone else, and i get that! but you’re standing here like it doesn’t even matter, like you’re just going to pretend whatever we have between us doesn’t exist!”

the sharpness in his words cuts deep, and your heart aches. “it’s not that simple. you know it’s not,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions. “you think i haven’t thought about what this means? about how complicated it is? i can’t just flip a switch and make everything okay!”

he runs a hand over his face, frustration boiling just below the surface. “you don’t have to make it okay! just... just acknowledge it! acknowledge us. you can’t deny that there’s something more here.”

the heat of the moment grows unbearable, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. “i-i can’t! i can’t do this right now! i don’t even know what i want!”

“then maybe it’s better if you stay with him,” he snaps, hurt flooding his voice. “at least then you can pretend you’re happy. you won’t have to deal with the mess we’ve created. you can have your perfect little life, while i’m over here trying to pick up the fucking pieces.”

his words cut deep, each syllable laced with disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. “baek… c’mon, that’s not fair—” you reach out to him, but this time, for the first time ever, he pushes you away, the sudden force of it leaving you reeling.

“just please…let me go, okay?” his voice is low, but it trembles with emotion. “there’s nothing here for me anymore. you’ve made it clear that there never was.”

you swallow hard, the weight of unshed tears threatening to spill over as you gaze into his eyes for what feels like the last time. the raw pain reflected back at you cuts deep, shattering something fragile inside you. he turns on his heel, his silhouette fading into the distance, the door clicking shut behind him like a final punctuation mark.

now, in the suffocating stillness, the tears flow freely, your chest tightening under the weight of your own heartbreak. each beat of your heart an ugly reminder of how deeply fucked this entire situation is.

this is it.

you’ve hit rock bottom.

the days that follow blur into a haze of heartache and regret. each moment apart stretches into an eternity, every thought of baekhyun sending sharp pangs of longing twisting painfully through your chest. you try to distract yourself, immersing yourself in the whirlwind of work while surrounding yourself with friends—friends who have always sensed the unspoken tension between you and baekhyun. apparently, you two were never as subtle as you thought you were. the longing glances, the lingering touches, constantly matching each other’s energy, him effortlessly meeting you on every wavelength—everybody saw it, each tiny detail.

‘you’d have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on the chemistry,’ one of them commented. ‘yeah, we were all calling you and baekhyun the next hellen kellers,’ another added. ‘more like tweedle dee and tweedle dum,’ someone else chuckled. you couldn’t help but wince at the truth of it all.

you come to find out that they all secretly rooted for your “not-so-secret” connection to flourish, yet holding back from intervening, respecting the boundaries of your privacy. you feel nothing but gratitude for that unspoken understanding; after all, the very reason you both kept your fwb arrangement hidden was because of the fear of anyone else complicating the already complicated.

oh, and your boyfriend—the poor guy. he really didn’t deserve the turmoil you put him through. the conversation with him still echoes in your mind, haunting you like a ghost. you told him the truth, your voice trembling as you confessed to your betrayal. “i cheated,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “i’m so sorry. it was wrong, and i take full responsibility for everything.” you could see the disappointment wash over his face, the trust he had for you shattering before your eyes. he deserved more than what you gave him, yet you’d been stringing him along, all because you felt like you didn’t have a chance with baekhyun—the one who made your heart race in a way your boyfriend never could.

now, you’re left with nothing but the empty echoes of those moments, each heartbeat a reminder of the love you lost and the love you crave. baekhyun's laughter still dances in your memory, his touch lingers on your skin, and the connection you shared feels like an ache that refuses to fade. despite the distractions, you can’t escape the truth that looms over you: he’s the one you truly want. it was always baekhyun who held your heart, and the thought of losing him makes your heart ache all over again.

then, one evening, after an especially difficult day, you find yourself in a familiar spot—a coffee shop you and baekhyun used to frequent together. you sit there, cradling your drink, as a wave of sweet memories washes over you, each one tied to your past visits here with him.

just as you’re gathering your things to leave, the bell above the door jingles, and your heart races when you see who's walking in, a hesitant expression etched across his face.

“hey,” he says softly, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“baekhyun…” his name falls from your lips in a quiet whisper, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy between you as you step closer. “can we talk?”

he nods, motioning toward a nearby table. your legs feel leaden as you walk over, your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. each beat is a reminder of how much this moment means, of how much you stand to lose. you can’t mess this up. not again. you have to make this work—you can’t lose him.

“i know things have been… difficult since everything happened,” you begin, your voice trembling as you lower yourself into the chair. his eyes are on you, but they seem distant, almost guarded. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t care. i can’t just walk away from us.”

baekhyun looks down, his fingers brushing the edge of the table, searching for the right words. his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “i didn’t think you felt the same,” he murmurs, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“i was scared,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “scared of losing you for good. but i realized that it’s worse to lose you without even trying to fight for what we had.”

you feel the tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they’re not from sadness; they’re from the overwhelming relief of seeing him here, in front of you.

“i don’t want to lose you either,” he confesses, his voice laced with quiet desperation. his hand reaches across the table, the warmth of his touch wrapping around yours as he gently grasps it. “i can’t stand the thought of seeing you with someone else. i never did. i want to be with you, and i’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

your chest tightens as you take a deep breath, nodding slowly while a shaky exhale slips from your lips. “i want to be with you, too. for real this time.”

his eyes widen, hope flickering like sparks catching flame. “do you mean it?” he asks, his voice filled with cautious anticipation.

you nod again, a soft hum of agreement escaping you, and in that moment, his smile breaks free, one of pure, unguarded relief. without a word, his hand reaches out, and your pinkies intertwine, just as they did all those years ago. a silent promise passes between you, and with a soft press of your thumbs, the vow is sealed—an echo of the past and a delicate mark of something entirely new.

“so… can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, his nervous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice dipping into a shy but hopeful tone.

“yes,” you reply, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles up, “i would love it if you were.”

his grin widens, turning his brown eyes into soft crescent moons, as if the tension in the room has melted away. you hadn’t realized how tense he was until you see him relax into his chair. “ugh, thank goddddd. i’m so glad we agreed not to be stupid anymore,” he jokes with a smile, and your heart swells at the familiar spark in his voice. and it hits you again—just how much you’ve missed him. that toothy smile, his voice, his laugh and the way he can always bring light into even the darkest moments. just him.

your best friend.

your boyfriend.

“i missed you, y’know?” you confess, the words tumbling out with sincerity.

“i missed you, too, cupcake.” he replies, his expression softening, thumb tracing little planets on the back of your hand.

he lets out a relieved sigh before continuing, “so what does my GIRLFRIEND want to do now?” excitement bubbles in his tone. “should we take a walk on the beach? the sun is about to set, and it would be nice. or does my GIRLFRIEND want to watch a movie? maybe my GIRLFRIEND wants to grab some dessert?”

you can’t help but blush, a giggle escaping your lips at the way he emphasizes your new title, drawing curious glances from the cafe patrons. embarrassment flares in your cheeks as you swiftly rise, tugging him by the arm to guide him out of the bustling cafe.

as soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he whirls you around, his hands tenderly cradling your face. twarmth of his palms feels like home as he leans in, kissing you with such devotion and tenderness that sends you soaring straight to cloud nine. everything outside melts away, and in that electric moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped snug in each other’s arms.

he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and you catch a glimpse of that playful spark in his eyes. he sends a thrill racing through you as he ghosts his lips over yours, the soft brush igniting a flutter deep in your stomach. “or how about i take my girlfriend back to my place,” his voice low and sultry, “and we consummate our new relationship?”

you laugh, your heart racing at the implication. “i think my boyfriend read my mind,” you tease, interlocking your fingers with his as you both giggle, making your way to his car. ‘finally,’ baekhyun thinks to himself as he swings open the passenger door, a grin spreading across his face. before you hop in, he leans in for one last kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. and as he shuts the door, a wave of relief washes over him. ‘finally, you’re all mine.’

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 a/n: the song linked in the title (and a text post on here that i cannot find for the life of me) inspired me to write a fwb!baekhyun fic 🙂‍↕️ i was going to end it with angst but then i realized......i literally can't do that!!!! lmfao i need my disney ending or else i'm gonna combust!!!!!!! sigh but anyways, i hope u enjoyed it!!!! as always, lmk your thots unless you hate it then pls keep it to yourself omg cus i am sensitive and will cry <3 (not joking)

⤷ prequel <3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#the dividers that feature lyrics from the song linked in the fic title were created by me <3 #rest of the dividers are by @anitalenia <3 #baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites

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rovingotter · 1 month ago

Text

I started writing my own version of the Honda Odyssey scene from Deadpool & Wolverine but I probably won't develop into an entire story so I'm just putting it up here. Canon-typical violence/gore.

Logan had just jammed his claws straight through Wade’s skull, into his brain, and out the other side. Which was rude. Wade’s vision went fuzzy and then totally dark, and half his body went limp—it was temporary, he knew, but it was always a little unnerving. Logan had also decided to be extra rude and entirely miss his frontal lobe, so he could still think about how hurt he was by Logan’s mean-spirited rant.

Couldn’t even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper.

Also, he was dragging Vanessa into this? Hello? Not cool.

They were probably getting a lot of blood on the seats. Whatever. It wasn’t his car.

Wade’s right arm still worked, so he fumbled for Baby Knife, yanked it out, and plunged it in what he hoped was the direction of Logan’s face, though it probably wouldn’t make it through his stupid adamantium-enhanced skull. To his pleasant surprise, however, the knife encountered very little resistance. There was a roaring scream and then a rubbery pop which let him know he’d gotten Logan right through the eye.

Ha!

He angled it upward, making it harder for Logan to pull away, and Logan jerked.

Logan went still, panting. Wade was on his back, on the backseat, and Logan was on top of him, crushingly heavy, damp with sweat, chest heaving. He spoke slowly, through clenched teeth, every word a strain: “Get—your knife—out—my fuckin’ head.”

“You first, honeypie.” Wade was kind of impressed that either one of them could still talk. Though he was kind of having trouble remembering how they’d gotten into this situation. They were in a car, and Logan was mean. That was all he could say for sure.

Logan’s claws were still stuck through Wade’s head, Wade’s movements still jerky and uncoordinated, his vision still absent due to the two-inch-thick wedge of adamantium which was very rudely skewering his visual cortex, but he had a good grip on the knife, most of which was now inside Logan’s skull. And he wasn’t feeling very charitable. So he wiggled it around.

Logan gasped. He tried to pull back, jerked again, and went limp, grunting. “Uh—fuck—hngh…”

Wade knew it was just pain, but those little grunts sounded distractingly porn-like. But his anger was still strong enough to overpower his spasm of confused arousal. “Apologize.” Wade squeezed the word between clenched teeth.

Logan didn’t answer.

Wade wiggled the knife harder, up and down and side to side, feeling its edges scrape against Logan’s eye socket. “Say it!”

Still no response. Logan had gone worryingly limp on top of him, and Wade was starting to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Logan’s brain regenerated just like Wade’s, sure, but brain regeneration wasn’t always as neat or clean as the rest of the body. Sometimes memories would be fuzzy or missing afterward. Also, he didn’t fully understand how well Logan’s brain regenerated. And he’d just pureed Logan’s whole left frontal lobe. It probably looked like a meat smoothie now. It was probably leaking out. What if he didn't get better? What if he turned into a feral beast-man and ran off into the woods to live in harmony with nature? Or started shitting his pants? What if Wade had just broken the Wolverine and he couldn't ever move or talk again? No, no, he was fine. This was fine.

Wade groaned. “Fuck.”

Logan’s claws were still in Wade’s skull, and Wade still couldn’t move his other arm. Or either of his legs. Or see.

“Logan…” He gulped. “Logan. We’ll both pull out on three, okay?” No response. “Okay?”

Logan made a weird, whimpery little noise.

“Peanut. Hey. Can you hear me? Can you understand me?”

“N-not…good.”

“Pull out. Just pull out. Okay? One—two—three!”

Logan’s claws slid out of Wade’s skull with a shhhk.

“Agh! Fuck!” he panted.

Wade tried to pull out the knife, but it was in pretty deep, and trying to remove it was more awkward than he’d anticipated, especially without the use of his own vision, which was returning more slowly than he'd hoped. Logan growled and jerked back before Wade could manage to maneuver the blade free.

“Logan…” Wade tried to sit up and flopped back down. His body felt like a bag of mashed potatoes and his vision—though now returning—was foggy. He reached out, groping at empty air.

Where was Logan?

Wade paused to catch his breath and give his neurons a chance to knit back together. His head throbbed, dull hammer-blows in the back of his skull. Nausea rolled over him, then faded.

Slowly, he sat up. This time, his limbs obeyed him and held.

The car was drenched in blood, the seats stained beyond any hope of cleaning, there were little chunks of pink stuff here and there, and Logan was nowhere to be seen.

Wade, still shaky and uncoordinated, climbed out of the car, landing in a heap on the ground. Logan was sitting a short distance away, on the dirt, staring blankly into space, Wade's knife still jutting out of his ruined eye. He was breathing heavily. Blood, dirt and sweat stained his suit.

“You know you can just pull the knife out yourself,” Wade said.

Logan didn’t react. His remaining eye was wide open, glassy. He was drooling a little.

Wade crept toward him. He started to reach out. Logan flinched back.

“Whoa. Hey. It’s okay. I’m just gonna take this out. It’ll only hurt for a sec.” He could already see Logan’s squished eye trying to regenerate, but it was healing around the blade—which would, of course, make it extra unpleasant to remove, but such was life.

He gripped the hilt. Then, bracing himself, he yanked the knife out. Fast, like pulling off a band-aid. Logan roared loud enough to startle a nearby flock of crows out of a tree. They flew off into the sky, cawing.

Wade started to wipe the blade off on Logan’s suit, then changed his mind and wiped it off on his own. It was red, anyway. Logan blinked at him, breathing heavily, as his eye slowly knitted itself back together.

"Do you know your name?" Wade said.

After a pause, he muttered, "Logan." He swallowed. "I...I'm Logan."

"Do you know my name?"

"Wade."

"Good. Now count backwards from ten," Wade said. "And then list every prime minister in reverse alphabetical order. And tell me the square root of pi divided by nine."

"Fuck off."

"You're gonna be fine."

#poolverine #deadpool and wolverine #honda odyssey #fanfiction #fanfic

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cravingpepsimax · 2 months ago

Note

Headcannons for teen stancest? I see it as more fluff then smut but I’m curious on what others think

teen stancest is something i find interesting, but not in the way most people do.

i think teen stancest is a lot of unknowing pining. i think stancest is like that in general, but especially as teens. they’re already terrible at dealing with emotions as senior citizens — imagine having to deal with gay incestuous feelings during the 60s-70s without having a fully developed frontal lobe. yikes!

i don’t think either of them would realize how they feel for the other at this age, but if either of them did, it’d be stan who realizes, not ford. ford has poor emotional self-awareness as a grown man — have you ever met a teenager with good emotional self-awareness? plus, teen ford has zero play. teen ford would absolutely take any weird feelings about stan entirely at face-value because the thought of him feeling that way about a man, much less his BROTHER, is unthinkable. yeah, sure, he might get butterflies in his stomach around stan, but that’s just because he wants to impress his cool brother. sure, ford might feel weirdly upset whenever stan talks about his newest girlfriend (god forbid ford sees them), but that’s just because he wants to make sure she treats his brother right! any actually romantic thoughts ford has are immediately surpressed and justified as his overactive brain throwing weird thoughts at him.

stan, on the other hand? i don’t think he’d realize either, but if either of them do at this point, it’d be stan. stan is very familiar with what attraction feels like. on the one-off chance he doesn’t immediately shut down any gay incest thoughts with a “nope not supposed to do that ❌❌❌❌”, i could actually see him realizing, and then promptly freaking the fuck out because oh my god how do you even address this. being attracted to a man is bad enough, but your BROTHER? i could see stan responding by going the complete opposite direction and trying his damndest to get ford a girlfriend so that stan couldn’t even imagine he has a chance. stan would probably get even more into the dating scene to distract himself, too. he doesn’t want to spend less time with ford by any means, but he has to get rid of these thoughts. not even for society at large, for ford’s sake — he’d believe ford wouldn’t reciprocate, and even if he did, ford gets bullied enough for being a six-fingered nerd, dating his own brother would make that even worse if anyone ever found out! stan is protective over his family, especially ford, and he wouldn’t want to risk anything.

if stan did confess, ford probably would freak out. be taken aback at best. again, this is ford we’re talking about. as a teenager. i don’t think he’d start hating stan or whatever, but i do think he’d reject stan and just pretend nothing ever happened (while also wondering if he should’ve said yes because he does love stan, but also would panic thinking he can’t, there’s no way he ever could. ford thinks he’s logical, but when he feels strong feelings, he justifies acting on them as if they were logical. ford’s really scared of ruining his relationship with stan, scared of being treated as even more of a pariah, but he justifies acting on these fears by lying to himself — he’s not paralyzed by fear, it’s just the Rational Thing To Do).

and then the science fair incident happens and oh god does the pining get worse especially if stan confesses. goddamn

so. yeah. unfortunately the exact opposite of fluff then smut lmao, this is very much an angsty pining mess for me. this is one of those instances where their complete lack of emotional self-awareness is a positive because i cannot for the life of me imagining either of them dealing with it well at this age

#stancest #adamconoverraisingfinger.png

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siddyyyyyyyy · 3 months ago

Text

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x female!Reader

this is part two to: University Romance, part three

Wc: ~2.1 k

warnings: none, no y/n used, 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, the name of the university is fictional

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

a/n: a lot of cringe in here and just yapping, I'm pretty sure I will make a third part to it and see how it goes. Have fun!

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 9:00 AM

Okay... maybe, hopefully, they haven't heard of these ridiculous assumptions from his students. First semester, they're still pretty young, stupid, and still have to get used to being in a university. Of course they will assume something like this, their frontal lobe hasn't even developed completely yet, has it? Is it even such a big deal to be mistaken as a couple?

»Stupid boom box...« Johnny mutters under his breath, making you confused at the same time.

»Carl, boom box; he asked if we were married. And I'm pretty sure he is the one who came up with all these rumors.« He adds, clarifying your confusion and making up a theory at the same time.

»Oh, so we should just have a talk with him, and then it's done.«

»No! It's too late!«

He surprises you by taking this situation so seriously. There must be something else.

»Okay, that's a bit dramatic, don't you think?«

He sighs out dramatically once more and throws his head back, eventually taking you by your shoulders and shaking you lightly.

»You don't get it! Soon, everyone will know, and I don't-«

The door swings open and, Kyle stands there, papers in his hand while his other still holds the doorknob. You're both looking over to him, Johnny having a rather stressed expression on his face. Kyle looks between the two of you, staying still in his spot while the silence stretches out.

»Am I interrupting something?« The physics professor breaks the silence, a faint smirk on his lips. Johnny almost squeezes your shoulders in a death grip before he lets go, being still a bit out of the wind.

»No! Of course not, what's up?« He answers almost too quickly and puts his hands on his hips, focused on Kyle and trying really hard to pretend nothing happened.

Kyle takes a small step back, closing the door just a tad bit but keeps his eyes on you both.

»I can also come in later if I was a bother. No worries.« He clarifies, earning a look from you both. He waves the stack of papers in his free hand, ready to just close the door and leave from the lack of response from the two of you.

»Wait, no, Kyle— you can just give me the papers and...« Johnny steps to him and takes the papers, glancing down at them before he looks to Kyle once more.

»Do you think we're married?« He asks, having a serious look on his face while awaiting Kyles answer. Kyle smrik widens, pretending to think he meant him and Johnny, instead the two of you.

»Aren't you guys something?« He asks back and points between you both, making you look away and regret every life decision that led to this. Johnny's eyes widen, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he dramatically puts his hand over his face.

»Thanks, Kyle.« Johnny mutters before he closes the door right on his face. He looks back to you, seeing you still feeling mostly confused about the dramatics of Johnny, and why he seems to be more exasperated than the first time he learnt about the sun exploding in about five billion years.

You sigh out softly, talking in a calmer tone.

»Why are you so upset about this? Did I miss something, or are you really just dramatic?«

He looks to you and tries to find his words, placing the stack of papers down on his desk before he leans against it.

»I just don't get why they think we are a couple... I mean, sure, I check up on your lectures sometimes and talk about you; I make sure you don't fall asleep in your office or overwork yourself, we spend our breaks together... But that doesn't mean we're married.«

You listen to him but get hung up in his words, holding your hand up for him to stop rambling.

»What did you just say?«

»We spend our breaks together?« He guesses, making you shake your head and ask again.

»No, before that.« You wait for him to repeat his words, being unsure if you heard him right.

»That I make sure you don't fall asleep here? What is it that I said?«

He makes you roll your eyes at him as he guesses again, putting both hands up and gesturing to him more impatiently.

»No, before that.«

He purses his lips, unsure if he should say it again or just somehow ignore the question, realising he said too much earlier. His lack of response makes you cross your arms and silently demand him to answer you finally. Johnny relents a moment later, sighing out sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

»Okay, okay, I talk about you in class, but that has nothing to do with this.« He finally admits and leans back against his desk more while avoiding eye contact. It seems like you have got him caught in something, and this explains a lot. You don't even want to know what other stuff his students have assumed, but you are also curious about what exactly he talks about in his lectures, considering he should be teaching them chemistry.

»Just- okay... Maybe that's why your students assume that.« You sigh out, having no motivation to be upset about him. At least there's someone to blame now, and it's Johnny. »And maybe you should actually teach them about chemicals instead of... whatever you are doing.« You add to, making him rub the back of his neck. It's clear he feels embarrassed if not ashamed about it. Maybe he was this dramatic all the time, because he knew he is at fault. But then again, he doesn't make sense as he said he doesn't want anyone to know.

»Look, let's just say nothing about it. Everything is normal for now, no one suspects a thing. But if your fathere finds out...« He takes a deep breath and shakes his head faintly. »He's gonna kill me.«

He finishes off, once again with fantastic dramatics.

»Wait, what about my dad? I thought you two were good friends.«

But before he could answer you, the bell rings and signals the beginning of the next lectures. He ushers you both out of his office, guiding you back to your lecture hall, since it's next to his, waving you goodbye before stepping into his class.

He's strange.

Once Johnny enters the lecture, he is greeted by the many faces of his students and one particular student speaks up. Before he could say word though, Johnny puts his hand up to silence everyone.

»I'm not gonna answer your stupid question, but we're gonna make coloured fire!«

----

Office of your own, Wednesday 8:53 PM

It took you exactly four coffees to stay awake and distract yourself from today's events. And completing your work early on again. Your students are going to be happy to receive their assignments back early, but will probably feel concerned too. Also, you're staying late in your office again, on accident. But now that your work is done and there's nothing else to do before the next day, you decided to look through your old pictures back from your early twenties.

It felt nice just studying and living at your parents house at that time, where you weren't plagued to actually do adult stuff. But the memories are nice, seeing how much fun you had most of the time, how different your style was, the fun things you could do with your friends... how lovely Johnny stared at you? Is the caffeine catching up?

You go on that picture again, your whole friendgroup from the different classes of the university at a park, it being sunny, and making the photo look even more nostalgic. Another look at Johnny confirms his stare. Whenever he isn't occupied with something in these photos, he is most likely looking your way with a soft, almost fond, expression.

A rhythmic knock pulls you out of your train of thoughts, looking to the door that opens up. Again, Johnny walks in, most likely to force you out of this room once more.

»Wow, that's a big stack of papers. Did you do all this?« He points to all the work you've done today on the desk, approaching you at the same time.

»No, the friendly poltergeist did it.«

He smiles at the sarcastic response and huffs out amused. Once he's close enough to your desk, he leans arms against your desk, inspecting the papers. While he does that, you go on to sort through them once more, standing up while doing so.

He watches your hands work, helping out a bit at the same time. Eventually, the stack of papers are neatly sorted out, going into your bag for the next lecture.

»Damn, I look good... looked good, at least.« He speaks up, eyeing the screen of your computer while leaning over your desk a little more. It seems like you forgot to turn your computer off as he came in, quickly closing the tab with the photos now. He groans as you closed the tab, looking back to you.

»Why'd you have that open? For motivation?«

He tilts his head at you, waiting for your answer, with a subtle smirk.

»Did you know dentures used to be made out of dead soldier's teeth?«

You try to distract him, it working as he blinks and grimaces at your fun fact. He leans off your desk and you take the opppurtunity to finally turn your computer off. Johnny takes a small breath, pointing at you with his finger.

»I really wish I didn't know that.«

----

Redcrest High Academy, Friday 12:02 PM

Johnny has thought a lot about you. Since he saw these pictures on your screen, he can't help but think back to your college and university years. It was fun being in that friend group, there was always something to laugh at and the hangout's were truly something else. He lost count of how many drunk black-outs he had already, how many times he pulled all-nighters to study, and how many times he tried to ask you out. If he only had the courage... if he weren't that hesitant, he is sure you two were indeed married by now.

But he remembers that time his friends and him hung out at your place for the first time, just before your university years as students started. Your house was rather big with two floors and a back yard. At that time of the summer, you used your back yard to grill and hang out at. He can remember how surprised he was when he saw how pretty it was, not having expected much. But that positive surprise surely died down quickly when your dad came by to help with the grill.

He looked intimidating then, a few inches taller than himself and looking rather rough. But then again, that small scare flew by once your dad introduced himself and finally smiled politely.

John Price, or 'mister Price' as how he calls him, even now. He knew he'd need to make a good impression on him and didn't drink as much as usual, trying to talk to your dad a little more. Of course, it was that same evening when your friends found out about his profession, or at least just knew that he was an SAS-soldier not too long ago. A captain as well.

At that point, he knew he probably had no real chance with you. He knew, if he fucked up, there's a whole SAS-team after him. So, he settled on just being good friends with you, mostly because of your father and his own fear of rejection.

Your father, on the other hand, befriended himself quickly with Johnny, having chatted about explosives most of the time in that same evening. He was sure Johnny and your friends were nice, not having anything against those.

You invited Johnny over more frequently, having had late study sessions, talking with your father about different stuff, and also more grill parties with your friend group. You could say your father became more fund of Johnny with time, having made more jokes and teases than necessary about you two.

»When are you marrying, son?«

He really wanted to ignore that question the first time your father asked him that. But he couldn't, and really tried his best to find the correct answer to it, but also not lie.

»We aren't together, sir.«

John waves a dismissive hand at him, huffing out lightly.

»Please, I've seen how you look at her. Don't waste your time before she finds someone else... and stop with the formalities. I told you that already.«

After a small pep talk from your father, he had some more courage to be closer to you, but still not enough to ask you out.

For some reason, it was harder than it looked like.

Even now, as your both fully grown adults and working together, he can't just walk up to you and propose something as a date. But now, with everyone thinking you are engaged, it might be the perfect oppurtunity to finally ask you out.

a/n: wow, again a cliffhanger, who would have thought!1!1! I hope you enjoyed it, I'm working on two fics right now, so I can't say when the next part is coming out. Probably soon.

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stilljuststardust · 3 months ago

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Frontal lobe is loading...

How I became stardust and why I'm taking time for myself

I'm discussing quite a lot, but this post also details the origins of my blog.

I don't typically make personal posts. I have for the most part kept everything about me private. If you ever wondered what pushed me out of the nest and finally made me understand myself and the law this post is it. It's probably not what you are expecting because it was not a revelation about manifestation that finally made everything work out for me, it was a revelation about myself.

Before anyone worries, I'm ok. The events I'm describing have affected me but though it was distressing when it first happened it was a necessary catalyst in my growth.

For those who are less familiar with how my blog started, I downloaded Tumblr at the beginning of the year because I was desperate for an outlet. I was in a bad mental state.

I will not describe in detail what had happened. The short version is I was beginning to realize someone I loved very deeply wasn't who I thought they were. They were much older than me and we met when I was still in my mid teens.

Essentially, my frontal lobe developed and I was like wait who the fuck are you and why did I give you so much power in my life? Why did I let you make me feel like I couldn't do this or like I didn't have any power of my own?

It's insane how as you grow older you can feel your cognitive abilities load. Suddenly your brain is older and suddenly you realize what you were too young to realize before.

Out of nowhere I was all alone with the knowledge that I had never truly been safe with anyone. I had no choice but to go within.

I had no one to turn to but myself. So, I did. I turned to myself and for the first time I began to answer my own questions instead of seeking the answer from others.

I went within and for the first time everything clicked.

I formed my own opinions, I sought validation from no one but myself.

I am begging you to place power in yourself. Stop placing others above you, whether it be a blogger you think has some kind of secret knowledge, a friend you idolize, someone you think knows better than yourself.

They don't have some secret knowledge, they aren't more powerful or more lucky. The only difference between the bloggers you idolize and yourself is they put trust in themselves and you put your trust in them.

I suddenly understood shifting, the law, myself. I was evolving rapidly into a new version of myself.

In retrospect I realize that for years the only thing that held me back was my connection to that person. It clouded my mind. When left to my own devices I would have rapid progress and I would feel enlightenment only to be pulled back into the muddy mindset and mental space that came with knowing them. It was off and on for way too long.

When I cut them off I started to experience instant and effortless manifestations. Even if I don't truly understand how or why that's what happened.

Earlier this week new details about the situation were revealed to me in a way that I can only describe as reverse flash type fuckery. I'd like to thank my friends for supporting me through that realization. @caffeinatedmoonboy @lovebvni

I have discovered that my peace and my time for myself is deeply deeply sacred.

My blog started as me speaking into the void. I finally had a place to share MY perspective and MY thoughts. I finally had power over my own perspective.

Someone who cannot care for themselves cannot truly care for others

It has been a wonderful thing to hear from so many that I changed their perspective or that I helped them shift, manifest, grow. In a way this blog became my way of holding space for myself.

I love answering questions on this blog, and I am honored that I am asked them. It's amazing to watch so many people grow how I did. However, I do feel like people underestimate the emotional labor that comes with it. Unfortunately being the target of others frustrations and doubts comes with the territory.

You're probably familiar with the incredibly angry hate filled messages that come from antis but if you don't have a blog yourself it is possible you don't realize how common it is from people within the community to mistreat bloggers.

I know you've probably seen post after post from frustrated bloggers and if you've never run one yourself you probably don't realize why they're so frustrated.

This community has a MAJOR entitlement problem. You are not entitled to my time.

I say NONE of this to guilt anyone or discourage asking questions. I just would like to express that I have been on the receiving end of many peoples hatred and frustration.

I do not know you. I'm an 18 year old with autism on the Internet.

I'm so so grateful people want my input and advice, and I love giving it. Just please realize I'm a real person. This isn't my job, I'm not getting paid, I'm not omnipresent. I'm going to miss questions, I'm going to misword things.

This is something I run in my free time. Believe me, I want to help as many people as I can but that doesn't mean you are entitled to me.

I have SO much empathy for the pain and frustration that may come with your journey, but I don't know you and your frustration is misplaced.

You can ask me a million questions but I cannot force you to apply the law. I cannot force you to change your mindset.

I cannot do the work for you. Even if I have tried.

This past week I have begun on the next part of my self growth is boundaries. I shouldn't pressure myself to answer questions when I'm exhausted, or when I'm sick. Even if that is what some people expect of me.

What you feed your subconscious mind is important and it cannot be healthy for me to constantly consume others negative and limiting beliefs even if it is to disprove them.

I am stepping into a new version of myself. I am entering a part of my life where I will set boundaries unapologetically and prioritize myself.

I'm crawling back into my cocoon, I urge you to do the same.

If you take away nothing else take away this:

Invest in yourself. Put faith in yourself and stop placing your power in things outside of you. Self is what you carry with you, it is what you can never leave behind. When you finally realize you are the most powerful thing in your reality the rest will fall into place.

Thanks for listening <3

- Stardust

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yerrenica · 1 year ago

Text

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | go to hell (affectionately)

⬦ info; fem reader (dom), bickering, whipped jaha, the reader is stealthier than jaha could ever hope to be, they're both lowkey emotionally constipated, begging, grinding, blue balling jaha real, reject canon embrace cringe.

⬦ wc; 2.5k

Jaha Lee is an adult. He has a job, even if unconventional. He has subordinates, even if most of them are incompetent. He even pays with his own money, sometimes. And still, despite all of that, his frontal lobe seems to not have developed enough to know that killing people at 10 p.m. will make him stay up all night.

That's how he finds himself tossing and turning in his bed, burying himself deeper and deeper into his blankets, excitement buzzing in his veins making it impossible to get some needed sleep.

Normally, Jaha is the type of person who goes down quickly and can sleep through a tornado if he wants to. That's what having too many enemies to count and spending most of your childhood years and all your adult life on the edge does to you - you learn to fall and stay asleep wherever, no matter how uncomfortable the place is because that might be the last time you get to get some rest in a long, long time.

The officer of shining light drove that point home just before Jaha fell off that forsaken cliff.

As he turns for the one-hundredth time in the past ten minutes, the sound of very light footsteps (almost as though the person did not wish for Jaha to know of their arrival) startles him, and his body immediately tenses up. Trying to get murdered from time to time is part of his job description, so it's not unusual to have people try to sneak up on him. However, he doesn't usually deal with assassins on the Black Rabbit clan's soil. The many squads patrolling the streets stop them before they have a sliver of a chance to get close to Jaha's or the Generals' quarters.

He closes his eyes and strains his ears, remaining as still as possible to hear what's going on. The walls are relatively thick, so the sound is muffled, but as soon as he hears the exasperated sigh on the other side of the door, he smiles and lets himself relax once more.

There's only one person who would be so brazen as to step foot anywhere near Jaha's quarters and then sigh with so little care and so much annoyance.

It's weird that [Y/N] is visiting at the wee hours of the night, but maybe she's forgotten something in his room or has finally decided to keep her word and murder Jaha like she has promised to do many times. Just to see what [Y/N] does when unsupervised, Jaha settles down and pretends to be fast asleep.

His bedroom door creaks open, and there's a soft sound of feet tiptoeing around the room. Jaha feels a hand pushing his fringe out of the way, and a pair of lips leaving a kiss on his forehead. It's such an innocent, tender touch, and it's so foreign that he has to bite his tongue and muster all his willpower not to make a sound that alerts [Y/N] that he's awake.

The mattress dips on the opposite side to where he's lying down, and he feels a warm weight settling against his chest. The woman settles down, lets out a contented sigh and plants a kiss on Jaha's chest, right next to where his heart is, with an easiness that seems practised like it's not the first time she's doing this.

And it's then and there when Jaha realizes that the woman's night escapades aren't uncommon and they're probably the reason why sometimes he wakes up with the familiar scent of lavender melon clinging to his skin, even though he's slept by himself (or so he thought) and with freshly washed sheets.

It didn't happen often, though, only after the nights when Jaha was too far gone, when the weight of his blade felt light, and the lives lost to it insignificant beyond measure.

It might be because Jaha is a bit enamoured with this woman, but the thought of [Y/N] sneaking into his bedroom just to sleep next to him and then leaving before sunrise just so she doesn't have to be embarrassed about it is painfully endearing.

[Y/N] mutters something in another language under her breath, and it's the first time Jaha has actively regretted not paying more attention to the foreigners who visited his inn back when he was an errand boy. Weirdly, it doesn't sound like an insult, but it also doesn't sound like the confession of undying love that Jaha would like to hear.

Well, there's only one way to find out what the woman said.

He wraps his arms around [Y/N]'s waist, and before she can react, Jaha flips them around so he's hovering on top of the woman. [Y/N] lets out a surprised yelp, and it's music to Jaha's ears.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." [Y/N] snaps too quickly for it to be nothing. "Let me go."

"No." Jaha singsongs, and he leans down to kiss the woman, but the other turns her head at the last second. Jaha settles on kissing her cheek. "It's rude to speak a language I can't understand and then not tell me what you said."

"I said let me go, you brute." [Y/N] repeats, turning her head to glare at Jaha. There's a beat of silence, and when she sees that the taller man isn't moving, she crocks an eyebrow. "Are you deaf?"

"You can already stop pretending you don't like me, you know?"

"Who says I'm pretending?"

"It's very hard to believe you don't like me at least a little bit when you sneak into my room in the middle of the night to cuddle me." Jaha chuckles, and just to drive the point home he leans in again, this time brushing their lips together.

[Y/N] purses her lips but doesn't say anything, so he keeps going. "You have a key to my room." A pause. "And a drawer full of your clothes here. We're basically dat—"

"Okay, shut up, I get it." The woman interrupts, her voice going slightly louder to block Jaha's words. Of course, she doesn't want to hear the word dating. Of course.

Jaha decides to be the bigger person, literally and metaphorically, and rolls onto his side, dragging [Y/N] with him so they're lying down face to face. He takes a moment to properly look at the other and only then notices the dark circles under her eyes and the way that she's blinking like she's fighting to stay awake. She looks exhausted.

"Hard day?"

"Assassins have been up my ass all day." [Y/N] says, and she doesn't explain further, but Jaha doesn't need her to. He understands what it's like to have a target on one's back. "Need to shut down for a bit."

"Stop calling it shutting down; it freaks me out."

"You've been basically fucking a walking assassin magnet for the past however many months, Jaha. Too late to be freaked out now."

Jaha scrunches his nose. "However many months", he thinks.

It's been seven months since we fucked for the first time and at least four since I realized that knowing the weirdly specific way in which you like your tea in the morning and spending my days off either pestering you until you pay attention to me or thinking about you may indicate that we are a bit more than associates with benefits, but we both seem to be deathly allergic to the word lovers and to any conversation regarding feelings and it's driving me insane.

But he's not dumb (or perhaps brave) enough to say that out loud. So he tugs on [Y/N] to bring her closer and buries his face into the other's hair. "Rest."

"In peace." The woman finishes with a stern tone. "Hopefully, I never wake up."

"It's sweet that you wish to stay in my arms forever."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know." Jaha concedes with a tired sigh. "Go to sleep."

There's a brief moment of silence, but [Y/N] then pulls back and looks Jaha in the eye.

"You told me to sleep, so now I can't do it." She argues, and the barely-there pout on her lips makes Jaha want to kiss her more than he's wanted anything in his life.

"It's a pride thing." She helpfully explains when she sees the dumbfounded expression on Jaha's face.

"Then stop being stubborn."

"Never."

The ravenette dramatically sighs in defeat and brings a hand to massage the side of his head. "You're going to do the opposite of what I ask you to just to be difficult, correct?"

"Correct."

"So how about..." Jaha starts, and he taps a finger to his lips like he's thinking. "You don't kiss me?"

"You're fucking dumb if you think I'm going to fall for that." The woman says, and she closes her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath like she's trying really hard not to hit Jaha over the head with a blunt object. "I can't believe you managed to become a clan leader. One would imagine you need more than one brain cell to be capable enough."

"One would also imagine that you need to be taller than three inches, but here we are."

He's barely finished speaking when the woman is already barking out a reply. "I'm going to kill you while you sleep."

"I'd love to see you try." Jaha chuckles, and there's something about the fact that the woman would indeed have a chance at besting him in a fight that makes him feel giddy. "Don't do it while I'm asleep though, I want to enjoy it."

"You're a fucking weirdo."

"I'm your fucking weirdo."

[Y/N] only rolls her eyes and huffs, and Jaha takes the opportunity to shove one of his hands under the woman's shirt. He's met with warm, soft skin, and he lets his fingers travel across [Y/N]'s taut stomach until he reaches the waistband of her pants. He hooks his fingers on the fabric, silently asking for permission.

"For fuck's sake, Jaha..." The woman whispers with irritation lacing her tone, but she leans way too much into the touch for someone who's complaining about it. "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

He unhooks his fingers from the fabric and lets his hand wander to grab [Y/N]'s ass. He squeezes, relishing in the way it makes the other squirm. As [Y/N] lets out a small gasp, Jaha leans in and bites her lower lip, gaining him a small whine. The ravenette almost smiles into the kiss, because [Y/N] might whine and complain, but she always responds so easily to his touch.

Without breaking the kiss, [Y/N] pushes him onto his back and climbs on Jaha's lap. She pulls back ever so slightly, and Jaha feels one of her hands grab his face. She forces his mouth open by pressing a thumb to his lower lip, and Jaha goes pliant under her touch, the only thought that runs through his head being, "Please spit in my mouth, please, please, please."

Instead, like she's reading Jaha's mind and refuses to give him what he wants, the woman takes her fingers out, leans in and shoves her tongue inside Jaha's mouth.

Jaha's mind is half-hazed as he sucks on the other's tongue like his life depends on it, and there's a buzz in his veins that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of murdering he's done that day. He holds [Y/N]'s hips in place and grinds up into her, managing to get a choked-out moan from her.

[Y/N] leans back, the moonlight coming from the window hitting her just right, and Jaha gets a view that he wants to keep in his memory forever - [Y/N]'s cheeks have a rosy flush to them, her lips are spit-slick and bitten red. The familiar sensation of wanting to wreck and be wrecked in return starts to bubble up under Jaha's skin.

Instead of taking Jaha's mouth again, [Y/N] blinks a few times and yawns, and it's a bit of a blow to Jaha's ego. The ravenette almost whines when [Y/N] leans back and props herself up on her knees, lessening the pressure from the one place where Jaha so desperately needs it. She takes both of Jaha's hands off her thighs, leaves them to rest on top of Jaha's clothed crotch, taps the back twice, like saying there you go, and clumsily climbs off of him.

Jaha's mouth falls open. "You're going to leave me like this?"

"Yes? I'm tired." The woman deadpans, and she shuffles to lie on her side, her back to Jaha. "You're a big boy, you can take care of yourself."

His dick twitches at the words big boy, and he looks down at the problem at hand. He realistically could take care of it, jerk himself off and call it a day, but what's the point if it's not her making him cum?

"You're really going to blue ball me?" He huffs as he lamely pulls on the fabric of his pants to release some of the pressure. It does nothing to help.

"You blue balled yourself."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Life doesn't make sense sometimes, Jaha." [Y/N] argues, and she dismissively waves a hand around. "Grow up."

Seeing that he's not getting any, Jaha lies back down on the pillow with a defeated sigh - it already smells like [Y/N], and that small fact shouldn't squeeze his heart the way it does. He takes a few deep breaths, letting his heartbeat go back to normal, and makes a mental note to make [Y/N] take care of all this pent-up frustration the next time he has her on his bed.

"To be honest, it's not the first time I've had to talk myself out of a boner because of you." He confesses with such nonchalance, eyes fixed on the back of [Y/N]'s head. "So I have practice."

[Y/N] turns her head, and even in the dim light, Jaha can see the furrowing of her eyebrows. He reaches a hand to smooth it out and considers it a step in the right direction when he's not pushed away or gets some of his fingers bitten off.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well—" Jaha helpfully starts, but the woman decides she doesn't actually want to hear about all the ways Jaha's so pathetically whipped for her, and stops him. "Actually, never mind. Don't even tell me."

Jaha unceremoniously hums. "I thought you wanted to know?"

She pauses for a moment and lets out a scoff that sounds way too much like a laugh. Proudly, Jaha makes a mental note of adding "making [Y/N] laugh when she's in such a bad mood" to his list of personal accomplishments.

"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep."

Jaha knows that if he asks for a goodnight kiss, he will get either a zap or a knee to his crotch, so he takes it upon himself to reach two fingers and delicately lift [Y/N]'s chin. He leans in, taking his time to kiss the woman properly without the heat of their previous kiss. And maybe he's hallucinating, maybe he's been awake for too long, but he can feel [Y/N] melt at the touch. He pulls back with a last chaste peck and smiles at the woman in his arms.

"Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Go to hell, Jaha."

Jaha chuckles, and just because he can get away with it, he plants a kiss on [Y/N]'s forehead. "I'll see you there."

#jaha lee #return of the crazy demon #return of the mad demon #webtoon #yi zaha #returnofthemaddemon #lee jaha #returnofthecrazydemon #jahalee #yizaha #jaha lee x reader #광마회귀 #이자하 #yi zaha x reader #i just really wanted to write bickering #was originally supposed to be mongrang x jaha but life threw a curveball at me

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