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#I don't come on here for months and STILL this shit goes on
judasofsuburbia · 1 year
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something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.
wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.
wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.
"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.
"i'm planning to."
"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.
"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.
"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."
the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.
"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.
"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.
"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."
steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.
"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.
"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."
"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.
eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."
steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."
right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.
"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.
"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."
eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"
"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.
"love it," eddie whispers.
"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.
"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.
over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.
"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."
"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."
"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.
wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.
"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.
"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.
"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.
"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.
eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.
steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.
"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.
"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."
"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."
"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.
steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.
"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."
"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.
eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"
"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."
"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.
steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"
"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.
steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."
"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.
steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."
eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."
steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.
"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.
"well i--" eddie stutters.
"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.
eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.
"wayne's meds," steve whispers.
"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"
steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."
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star-suh · 1 month
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Good Friends Share
Park Jonseong & Park Sunghoon x Male Reader
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cw: established relationship, dom-ish tops jay and sunghoon, threesome, cheating, spanking, breeding, double penetration, musk kink, sweat kink, degradation, feminization.
yn and sunghoon have been a couple for three months already but there is something that the first one is hiding, he has been fucking his boyfriend's friend, jay.
“harder please” moans yn, spreading his cheeks with both hands so jay can get a better view of his cock pounding that sexy ass “who's the better cock me or sunghoon?” jay said pushing yn's head against the bed with his hand but he said nothing, just whimpers coming out of his mouth. “i asked who's the better fucking cok bitch” jay said in a angrier but sexier tone, placing his hands on each side of yn's head then introducing some fingers in his mouth to pound harder “it's you~ jay you're the better c-ock~”.
“is that so?” a familiar voice came from outside the room, “i thought i was fucking you good” he grabbed yn's chin with his thumb and index finger “that's what you told me every night i pushed jay's cum deeper with my dick” he smirked maying direct eye contact with the bottom “you're such a dirty boy yn” he pouted.
yn didn't know what to say, his mind is still processing that sunghoon knew he was cheating on him. suddenly he felt something wet licking his ear, it was jay “i told him” he whispered, “we're good friends after all… and good friends share” a chill running through yn's entire body.
now yn was in between both males, their sweat and smell driving him crazy. while jay keep slamming himself against the bottom, sunghoon was using his mouth like a fleshlight “so he's the better cock huh? let's see if that changes tonight” hoon grabbed him by the head and make him deepthroat his dick, forming a little bulge on his throat “hold it” growled the top, his legs trembling from the pleasure he was receiving “fuckkkkk” he grunts pulling out his dick covered in thick saliva, a string of it connecting his tip to the bottom's mouth.
“what a skilled slut we have here” jay mentions while spanking the ass and he won't stop until it's all covered in bright red hand prints, “he really knows how to take cock” he adds.
“of course he does, it's like he was made to satisfy us both, our pretty hungry cumslut” sunghoon wipes a tear from yn's eye and lick it from his thumb. yn has never seen sunghoon like this, he was so calm yet something in his smirk was haunting, sex with him has always been vanilla and now it's as if as if he were showing his true self, with lots of kinky thoughts crossing his mind– and yn will know about them probably soon.
“you like it prince?, you like how he's railing your pussy?” sunghoon asked to yn who was with his mouth stuffed, “i bet you do pretty bitch” jay laughs, pushing the bottom's head deeper down hoon's dick “the way he's clenching so hard in my dick just confirms it” he adds.
yn sat on hoon's dick, his already used and slicked hole making it easy to swallow it all the way down to the balls. yn moves his hips in a gentle motion feeling a bit sore for how jay has been rearranging his insides the past minutes.
hoon lock his hands around the other's waist and says “if you're gonna act like a bitch at least fuck like one” he starts pounding hard, the sound of his balls slapping against yn's ass fills the room along with jay's laugh who was jerking off enjoying the sight in front of him. hoon's thrusts were so hard that some lube drops start splashing every time he goes in.
yn was already tired, resting his head on hoon's neck when he felt a sudden stretch, when he was about to moan his boyfriend kissed him “it's ok, you're gonna like it” he whispers and kissed him in the forehead. jay was introducing his dick in yn's already stuffed hole, it felt so tight that he almost came “holy shit, i don't know if i can last long” he whimpers.
“don't worry, i got you bro” sunghoon pushes yn in top of jay making the latter to fell on his back, his dick still inside the hole “i'm gonna take care of you both from now on” he says once again with that goddamn smirk. he starts drilling his boyfriend's hole. the sensation was overwhelming for both yn and jay that they started moaning in unison “look at you jay, acting so tough but you just end up being a moaning bitch like yn”; “shut up dude it.. it's because you just started to fuck” his hooded eyes making eye contact with hoon who smiles and murmurs “bullshit”.
the friction between his cock and hoon's made jay cum inside yn, who came seconds later due to the overstimulation; “please i can't anymore” the latter cries. “it's ok, i'm gonna cream your pussy soon” hoon kisses him while doing some lasts thrusts and finally flooding yn's inside with his warm cum, it was so much that it started to drip down yn's hole and jay's shaft.
“we're gonna have so much fun” hoon smirks one last time to yn who falls asleep on top of an already sleeping jay.
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sylveon-official · 3 months
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thoughts on angel's heartbreak
viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo
i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.
we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"
i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.
so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.
husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.
the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.
that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"
"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"
"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"
angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"
"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"
angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...
"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.
"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"
"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.
husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.
"angel, wait-"
"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.
then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.
this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.
i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.
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fluffypotatey · 3 months
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okay so:
the year is 2021. the month is june. the new season of hermitcraft, season 8, has just started, and everything is great! the hermits are all messing around, having fun, building insane things within the first week of the server being active, and generally having a good time. everyone's collected themselves into little factions, pranking each other, and it's all the fun, lighthearted, mostly-vanilla content hermitcraft is known for.
and then the split between minecraft versions 1.18 and 1.19 is announced. the delay of new terrain, and especially of new mobs like the warden, considerably disrupt several of the hermits' plans. but it's fine, they'll figure something out, they're professionals, and it mostly goes unnoticed.
about two weeks later, on november 9th, grian turns to mumbo jumbo in one of his episodes, and asks the famous question that would seal hermitcraft season 8's fate:
"mumbo, is the moon... big?"
suddenly, the fans panic. they search back through videos and streams, and realize that the moon had been abnormally large and stuck in a full-moon phase since october 30th. the Moon Big event has begun.
this is where the roleplay really starts. once the moon's size has been brought up, the hermits start a weird combination of scrambling to figure out why the moon's growing, and how to stop it- but also of ignoring it, hoping it won't be a problem, hoping someone else will deal with it. the moon keeps getting bigger, more hermits start realizing it's going on, and a creeping sense of dread starts to grow. but it's fine. it's fine, right? they do little plotlines like this all the time. they'll figure something out, the moon will go back to normal, and we'll laugh about it when this is all over. it's fine.
and then, blocks start flying away. just floating up out of the ground, and falling right back down! like for a moment, a square meter chunk of dirt has decided it's a ballerina and leaped out of the ground! but it's fine, right? the blocks are coming back. no lasting harm is done. they're going to fix it all... right?
the moon gets bigger. it's growing every day- local hermit weirdguy joe hills measures it every stream. the blocks start flying higher. gravity starts getting... weird, with players getting the slow falling effect at random, and being lifted off of the earth themselves. the players form cults and rituals and whatnot to try and appease the moon, convince it to leave them alone, making plans to escape. nothing works. things keep getting worse, and the moon keeps getting bigger. but it'll be fine. these storylines never leave lasting harm, or at least they never have before. they'll be fine.
and then the blocks stop coming back, just floating into the sky forever. the players have the slow falling effect more than they don't now. the moon is now so big it's visible even during the day, and fills the entire sky at night. they start planning their escapes in earnest, and say their goodbyes. some hermits jump into a void hole in the overworld (it was the centerpiece of their village). some flee to the End, some to the nether, some just fly with elytras and hope they can get far enough away in time. one brave hermit, tango, flies himself to the moon in a futile attempt to blow the whole thing up before it can crash.
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but in the end, the moon crashes into the server, and everything they'd built was destroyed. and the whole time, there'd been nothing any of them could've done. season eight was over, a full six months before anyone had expected it to end, and season nine wouldn't start until about three months later. and im still not okay about it.
(here's a cool animatic of the moon's crash! honestly i dont think you need too much hermitcraft knowledge to get the gist)
(also the moon crash happened on the day before my birthday lmao.)
….
holy shit
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benedictscanvas · 4 months
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pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3
warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)
---
“Hi love.”
Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 
He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.
Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.
You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.
If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.
“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.
“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”
“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”
You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.
“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”
You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.
“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”
He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.
“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”
You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.
“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”
Jamie winces.
“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”
You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.
“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“
“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”
You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.
“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”
“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”
“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”
He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.
“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”
Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.
---
He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.
After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.
You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.
“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”
Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.
“Kit room.”
It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.
Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.
“Y/N? Love?”
“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”
Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.
“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”
He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.
“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”
Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.
Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.
“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”
“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.
“You’re alright, though?”
You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.
“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”
No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.
Tell her, you prick.
He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.
This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.
“What’s it say?”
You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.
“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”
You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.
“On the ceiling?”
He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.
It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.
“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”
“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.
“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.
“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”
You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.
“I spy with my little eye…”
---
It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.
No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.
“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.
“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.
He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.
Tell him, you silly shit.
It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.
“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”
“What?”
He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.
“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”
He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.
You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.
"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."
He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.
Maybe again.
"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."
He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.
"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."
You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.
"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.
(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)
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causeilikelix · 4 months
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new to the blog but abt those felix throughts 😍😍 felix whos so tired of the members calling him innocent and babying him. yea its nice from time to time but hes a grown man ! so he goes 100% hard dom on you just so your moans can be heard in the dorm 🫣 also he would totally cover you in bite marks and hickeys just so he can get his point across to his group 💕
now THAT's what I'm taking about skhsfdlkfjsdlkfj
Like we all know that Felix is a lil guy with too much love in his body but soft =/= sub. He's a man very comfortable in his identity and the power he holds over you. Felix just wants to make his baby feel good but he also wants to prove a point...
Smut and warnings below the cut. MINORS DNI!!!!!!
↳  Words - 2.7k (and some change)
↳Warnings: SMUT duh, Soft!Dom Felix (I'm still getting used to writing Hard!Dom anyone) and a tough of Hard!Dom Lix at the end, afab!reader, relatively vanilla, fingering (f receiving), P in V, unprotected sex (don't), multiple orgasms, exhibitionism?, hickeys
You loved his innocent vibe!  You really did!  His angelic smile and his sweet words and actions is what drew you to him in the first place.  He was nothing but romantic and sweet all the time.  The best communicator, respectful of your boundaries, always treated you like a princess.  Honestly everyone needs their own personal Felix!!
But he’s tired.  He can’t help it.  All of his friends baby him so much!  Like Changbin said himself, Felix is happiness personified!  But enough is enough.  His sweet exterior is giving him a reputation he doesn’t want.  When his friends talk about their sex lives, they always make these jokes that Felix must be a little pillow prince who takes what he’s given and lets his partner take the lead.  In fact, his friends bet, he’s as innocent as can be and maybe you and him don’t even have sex at all!
He’s still grumbly about it when you get to the dorm one night, just to spend a little time together in between schedules.  He greets you with his normal warm hug and a sweet peck but you can sense something is off.  
Initially you stay in the living room to continue watching the movie the other guys are watching.  It’s some action film you couldn’t give two shits about.  Your legs are swung over Felix’s lap and he’s gently massaging your calves and thighs while he stares at the screen.  You can hear a few of the other guys snickering but you can’t make out what they’re saying.  When you glance at Felix, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is set.  Honestly it’s kind of hot and makes heat pool between your legs.  Let’s be honest though…. It’s Felix.  Almost everything he does can get you wet.
The boys laugh again and you note that it’s during a not particularly funny part of the movie.  This is where Felix breaks.  He pushes your legs off him and grabs your hand.
“Come on, babe, this isn’t very interesting.  Let’s go to my room.”  Felix whispered to you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 
Your body immediately went hot and you had a feeling you knew what was on his mind.  He dragged you to his room and tossed the door shut behind him. 
His hands were cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss before the latch had fully closed.  You could simply melt into his kisses.  They always were deep and full of every ounce of love in his body.  Tonight, however, his lips were urgent and demanding. 
“I need you baby, please.”  He whispered against your mouth.  The need to show his friends that he wasn’t a little boy anymore coursed through him, but he would stop if you gave the word.
“Lix, I need you too.”  You managed out between kisses, “But what about the guys?  They’re right outside and-”
“Remember what we talked about last month?”  Felix kissed down your neck and pushed you back towards the bed. 
How could you forget?  Most of the time you and Felix had sex it was very mutual.  You didn’t do a whole lot of powerplay.  Maybe a sprinkling here and there when the situation was right, but Felix loved it when sex was a mutual expression of love.  A few weeks ago he asked you about exploring power play a little more and maybe experimenting with some kinks.  One of them was being listened to.  Not necessarily the real thing, but pretending like someone could walk in on you at any moment. 
With the boys right down the hall, that one held more risk than normal. 
“You wanna try it?”  You asked.  The back of your knees caught on the edge of the bed and you sat down.  Felix weaved his fingers through your hair and bent down to kiss you.  You parted your knees instinctively and Felix settled between them. 
With him above you like this, you felt small under him.  The thrill it gave you made your heart speed up.  You gripped his slim waist to pull him closer. 
“I want them to hear you while I fuck you dumb,” Felix’s voice dropped and octave.  It sent a shiver down your spine.  You always loved it when he got like this.  When he got too horny, his voice dropped and it made you wet in an instant.
Felix’s hands made quick work of your clothes.  He wasted no time in getting you naked, leaving your top and jeans in a pile on the floor.  Even though you hadn’t expected to have sex on this visit, you still wore one of your cuter underwear sets.   Baby pink with a little bit of lace at the top of the cups of the bra and the top of the panties, made even more innocent by a tiny rose in the center of both pieces. 
Felix swallowed thickly at the sight.  
“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”  Felix whispered.  He maneuvered you onto the bed and hovered over you.  You clawed at his shirt, urging him to take it off.  He smirked and tugged it off.  “Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?  Until then you're going to let me do whatever I want with you, right baby?”
“Yes, baby.”  You nodded in understanding.
You groaned at the sight of his chiseled chest.  Those gorgeous, defined ab muscles and his perfect little pink nipples made your mouth water.  Everything about him was beautiful from his head to his toes.  Not to mention his cock.  Speaking of, you wanted to see it immediately.  You tried to reach for his pants but he grabbed your wrists and shoved you back against the bed. 
“No touching without permission, got it baby?”  He cooed, “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you.  I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?  It doesn’t take much to get my baby worked up.”
Felix slipped his hand into your underwear and seemed unfazed by the amount of slick in your panties.  To be honest, you thought that there should have been more.  The sudden show of power had your cunt gushing and clenching around nothing and you needed him inside you, um, yesterday. 
“Felix, please!”  You cried, pushing your hips up into his hand.  His digits rubbed small, slow circles on your clit.  Just enough to feel good but not enough to actually get anywhere. 
“What do you want, baby?  Good girls use their words.”  Felix chided, his fingers slipping lower to tap against your entrance but not going in. 
“I want you to touch me!  Please!”  You kept your voice quiet so that no one outside the door could hear you, but that wasn’t what Felix wanted. 
“You want me to touch you?  Alright, baby, I’m feeling nice today.”  Felix kept his eyes on your face as he slipped two of his fingers into your tight hole with basically no resistance.  He watched as your face screwed up in pleasure and your lips parted in a silent moan.  “Come on you can do better than that.”
With that, Felix pumped his fingers into you.  Quick thrusts wouldn’t get him where he wanted to go so he opted for long, deep strokes that pressed the pads of his fingers onto that special spot he’d found a few weeks ago.  The ball of his hand pressed deliciously against your clit with every thrust.  You swallowed a moan and turned your head to press your face into your arm to help silence yourself. 
At this, Felix threw three quick thrusts of his fingers into you.
“Uh uh,” he chided, “I want to hear those beautiful noises of yours, baby.  Let me know how good I’m making you feel, yeah?”
He pressed a few more deep and precise thrusts into you and this time you complied with a long, drawn out moan.  Felix grinned.  He continued like this for a few minutes, pressing his fingers in as deep as possible.  He resorted to pressing his hand against your clit and his fingers massaging that spot within you. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight.  You’re drenching my fingers already.  I can’t wait until you cream my cock, baby.  Keep moaning, just like that.”
He has you clenching and cumming on his fingers in seconds.  It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets your thighs shaking.  You’re moaning so loudly that you’re certain that the others can hear you.  Felix smiles through the whole thing.  His eyes are dark as he watches you cum just from his fingers. 
“Good girl, there it is.  Let’s see if you can take my cock, yeah?”
“Please.”  You moan loudly. 
Felix pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss.  He pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere in the room.  Next he strips from the rest of his clothes and his cock slaps against his stomach.  Precum pearled at his tip and your mouth watered.  You longed to take him in your mouth and suck him until he came but he had other plans.
“Hands and knees.  Now.”  Felix demands.  He pumps his cock a few times to make sure he’s hard enough.  How could he not be, though, as he watches you climb onto your hands and knees and present your ass and your glistening hole to him.  He leans over you and brushes his cock along your swollen folds.  “Good girl.  God, you have the most perfect ass…”  Felix palmed it appreciatively before pulling his hand back and landing a firm slap on the flesh.
“Fellix!”  you gasped when he landed a second slap.  
“That’s right, baby, remember who’s name you’re screaming when I make you cum.”  Felix’s deep voice rumbles. 
He lined up his tip at your entrance and rubbed it through your folds a few times, reveling in the way he could make you shiver every time his cock grazed your over-sensitive clit.  When you least expected it, Felix pushed his cock into your tight, warm cunt.  You both moaned out in unison when he bottomed out.  His long, thick cock filled you up perfectly.  It was as if your pussy was designed for him.  Felix swore that he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you, darling?”
With that, he began thrusting.  Sometimes adjusting to someone’s cock in you is a thing of myth.  You can never get used to how perfectly he fills you up.  It may not be the longest, but it’s thick and it stretches you more than anything or anyone else ever has.  His cock has a perfect little curve to it that hits that little spot inside you whenever he angles his hips just right. 
Tonight, he’s determined to get all of the sounds out of you that he can.  So every single thrust is designed to do just that.  He shoves himself into your snug heat as deep as he can go every single time.  It’s like you can feel him in your throat.  Every thrust pushes his hips flush with your ass.  He takes a hand and presses on your back to push your chest onto the bed.  
“Fuuuuuck baby, you feel so good.”  Felix moaned, “Always so warm and tight for me, baby.”
“You feel so good inside of me,”  You moan back, struggling to get your words out between Felix’s rough thrusts, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
“Come on, moan for me baby, show them how good I make you feel.”
As if you had a choice.  His thrusts were hard and he shifted his hips until his tip speared into that spot over and over again.  Felix had found that spot by chance a few weeks ago when he was fingering you and now he made it a point to seek it out every time.  
Felix’s hand curled around your bodies and his fingers made contact with your clit immediately.  At this, you keened and let out the loudest moan of the night.  Your cunt clamped onto Felix’s cock and he bit his lip to keep from cumming right there.  Your tight, wet heat eas driving him crazy but you had to cum first.  
He could have sworn that the TV volume lowered.
“Come on baby, cum for me.”  Felix grunted, his finger swirling around your swollen clit.
Your walls clenched and fluttered around him.  Something in your belly pulled taut and you rocked yourself back on Felix’s cock.  The extra bit of friction made the coil pull tight.  You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to let your body relax so that Felix could take over and bring you to orgasm.  Your moans grew louder and louder as you got closer.
“Yes, yes, yes!”  You cried, “Fuck, Felix!  Right there!”
“That’s a good girl, cream my cock, baby.”  
The sound of the TV in the front room had stopped all together.
The extra pressure of you pushing back onto his cock was just the right thing.  The intense pressure in your stomach suddenly released all at once.  Your legs trembled and your body shook.  Felix took over and gripped your hips tightly.  He slowly guided your hips down towards the bed so you were laying flat, continuing his intense thrusts into your cunt.  He leaned over you and pressed his lips to the back of your neck. 
“Felix, don’t stop,”  you moaned, arching your back into him to keep his dick lodged inside you as deep as possible.  
Your orgasm washed over you in waves, each one resulting in a gush of wetness between your legs.  His hips kept drilling into you diligently.  He kissed along your shoulders and neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin.  The second you rolled over, he’d give you hickeys on your neck and breasts to match these.
When he sensed your orgasm coming to an end, he slowed his hips but kept his cock lodged within your tight walls.  He hadn’t come yet but he knew he had to give you a short break before he sought his own orgasm. 
“Was I loud enough?”  You giggled,  “What was that about?”
“The guys were making fun of me, saying things like… I couldn’t be a dom because I’m too innocent, that I’m just a pillow prince and I let you do all the work.”  Felix peppered soft kisses on your skin. 
“That’s not it at all baby!  We just like sex to be reciprocal, that’s all.”
“I know, but I guess I needed a little ego boost.”  Felix shrugged.
“Well if I get to come like that every time we need an ego boost, by all means,”  You giggled, rubbing your ass back into him and making his cock slide against your puffy walls, making you both gasp.  “I think you could stand to be a little meaner, though.”
“What?  You want me to be mean to you?”  Felix stared at you with large eyes.
“Maybe a little more.”
“Oh, so you want me to call you my own little personal slut?”  Felix whispered in your ear.  That tantalizing voice of his made your cunt clench on him.  “Oh so you would like that?  I should have known you’d be a little cock-hungry slut.  Can’t go a single day without my cock in you, is that it?”
“Mmhm…”  You nodded, eyes suddenly a little teary but in the best way.  You pushed your hips back against his again.  He groaned and pressed a hand to your hip to stop your movements.
“If you keep going like that I’m gonna treat you like a little cocksleeve, got it?  I’ll stuff you with enough cum to keep you full for weeks.  You want that, baby?”
“God, yes,” your eyes rolled back at the thought of feeling even fuller than you were now.
“Then relax, my pretty slut, we’re just getting started.”  Felix growled. 
His hand slipped under you to press lightly against your tummy, the pressure pushing your g-spot effortlessly against the tip of his cock.  He’d hardly have to aim at all like this.  You let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fill you up ‘til your cute little cunt can’t handle it anymore.  M’ cum is all yours.”
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musickgeek · 3 months
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Trust [Angel Dust x Reader]
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Warning: This chapter is a bit heavy. Implications of sex/sexual assault. If Ep4 is rough for you, this chapter would be too. About 2k words
Everyone in Hell knows who Angel Dust is. Famous porn star, stripper, partier. An overlord's pet. Many thought his life to be exciting, or maybe fun. I thought it was sad. I know that life doesn't exude happiness. So when I saw him in the street, I couldn't help but approach. He quickly eyes me up in down, taking in my somewhat timid stance. He smiles, and immediately goes in for the kill.
"Hey gorgeous, can I help you?" He gets close, sliding one of his hands up my arm, one playing with my hair. "Oh...no thank you..." I lift his hand by his finger and give it back to him. "Oh come on, baby cakes, no need to be shy." He insists. "I'm not interested in that, I just wanted to ask...are you okay? Do you need...a hug?" My voice becomes less sure by the second. He immediately scrunches up his face. "What? What kind of weird kink is that?" I can't help but laugh. "Why are you kink shaming? Down here? No, that's not my kink." He crosses his arms. "Then what? You think I need your pity?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"I think you need a little care is all." He just stares at me like I grew three more heads. "You don't have to say anything, I just thought I'd ask, see if you just wanted to talk to someone." I tell him. He looks over me again, much more skeptically this time. "Not to be as forward as you, but what did you do to end up down here? You seem a little too, uhh...soft...to be hanging around here." I smile sadly. "Up there, I was exactly what you are down here." He frowns at the weight in my words. "I hope you have a good day, Angel." I say meaningfully, walking away before he can respond.
~~~~~
The next time I run into Angel is a complete accident. I'm not paying attention to what's in front of me, and I barrel into someone. "Ah shit, what's your prob- oh... it's you." He recognizes. "Yeah, sorry. I was lost in thought. But how are you? How's it going?" I ask politely. He scoffs. "Small talk don't pay the bills." He mutters to himself. "It could."
"I-What? Gonna pay me to talk you? How sad are you?" He deflects, obviously flustered that I'd heard him. "I'd pay if it meant you were safe for a little while." I elaborate. He looks like he's going to make a snarky remark, but stops himself. He sighs, and sits on the curb. I take the place next to him. "How much would you have given to get that offer?" He asks. "Everything." I admit. "I'm sure you can handle yourself, you have to to survive this life, but doesn't mean a break can't help." He shrugs. "You talk like you stopped doing all this."
"... No, I didn't. It's just not so...aggressive? I just don't know anything different. I think I've been getting better. I don't seek it out anymore. I just...don't turn it down. Well except alcohol, but everyone's gotta have a vice right?" He smiles, understanding in his eyes. "You're not like most people are you, sweet cheeks?" He asks. "No. But neither are you. I mean we're pretty similar aren't we? I also would have thought I was a freak." He frowns. "At least your didn't sell your soul for this shit."
"Not down here, no. But I still sold my life away." I shake my head. "You're a good guy, Angel. I hope you find the way out. I'm certain there is one." I get up to go, but he grabs my wrist. We both look at his hand like we're surprised it's there. He blushes a little before letting go. "Sorry, I just-uh, I'd like to see you more."
"I'm good company, huh?" He rolls his eyes, but smiles. He hands me his phone, and I put my contact in. He stands, and wraps four long arms around me. "You were right. I did need a hug." I hug him back, needing it as much as him.
~~~~~
We were fast friends, and didn't wait long to admit we wanted more. On the first date, Angel wanted to come home with me. I told him I was tired. On the second date, I was too busy. Months went by without any action. I didn't want him to think that's all I wanted from him. I wanted him, and myself, to build a relationship built on comfort, trust, and innocence. Not to mention how nervous I am to be that close someone. I could tell he was getting frustrated, and not just sexually. He was a lot more willing to share intimate information then I was. He told me about Valentino, about his time alive, and readily shared his problems. I always answered his questions as vaguely as possible. I'm not used to someone wanting to know, nor am I used to sharing in general. I've always lived with my cards close to my chest. While he had friends that helped break those walls down a bit, I did not.
One night I was waiting at the bar of the hotel for Angel to get home. Valentino had him late. That moth fucker makes me so mad, I could kill him. He'd deserve it for everything he's done. I'm broken out of my murder plans by Husk's voice. "So you and Angel haven't exactly 'consummated the marriage' huh?" I nearly choke on my drink. "Huh? That's random. What-what gives you that idea?" My voice gets all squeaky, my face feels hot. "I'm the bar tender, when people get drunk, they give their problems to me. And right now, his biggest problem is you. He thinks you aren't attracted to him, or he's doing something wrong. Says you don't trust him."
"I didn't mean for him to feel bad, I just wanted him to know I care about him beyond sex! We've both lived lives where that was all there was. And I'm just so scared. I don't want to mess it up, and I want us to be in a place of complete comfort with each other. Obviously I'm attracted to him, have you seen him? There's not exactly a guidebook for all this. I just don't know how to trust, I guess. But that's not his fault." Husk smirks, looking behind me. I turn and find my lover. He's looking at me, mouth agape, through his bedazzled sunglasses. "I...think we need to talk." He says seriously. I simply nod, embarrassed. He takes my hand gently and leads me to his room, away from prying ears.
"Why didn't you just talk to me, (Y/n)? If you just weren't ready, I would obviously understand. Did you seriously think I of all people wouldn't understand?" He throws the glasses on the vanity, and paces anxiously. Okay, he's mad. "Angel, it's not like that."
"Then explain it to me! You don't want to trust me?"
"I do!" He comes over and grabs my hands, he looks at me with the most sincerity I've ever seen. "Then do it. Please." I'm overcome with emotion. "Angel?" He cups my face. "Yes?" I smash my lips to his. It's intense, passionate, incredible. This isn't our first kiss, but it's the first with so much heat. I slide my hands down to the hem of his shirt. He breaks away. "Are you sure?" I nod wordlessly. "Is that okay?" I ask. "Absolutely." He kisses me again and again and again, every action eager. We move to the bed, separating as little as possible
~~~~~
"Fuck, Angel, that was..."
"Mind blowingly amazing?" He says excitedly, almost giggling. I laugh, winded. "Oh yeah. It's been so long since I was really into it, you know?" He pulls me into his arms contently. "Yeah, I get ya, toots."
"(Y/n), can I ask you something personal? I mean, I feel like I share a lot with you, but you're so closed off." He's not wrong, but I don't admit it aloud. "Go ahead." Maybe it's the endorphins, but after all this, I know I can trust him. "How did you die?" I can't help but laugh. "You don't hold back, do you?" I can feel the tears burning in the back of my eyes, and the panic rising within me. I haven't spoken about it since I died, and I never thought I would. Angel senses my oncoming attack, and holds me tighter. "I'm sorry, you don't have to-"
"I was on my own leash. Told me who to sleep with, told me how, controlled what I got out of it. He used me, I was at his beck and call. And one night, I... I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up to him, and he got so mad. He-He started to hit me, throw me around. I was already so weak and sore from the days work, I couldn't fight back." I'm crying, my grip tightening on Angel. "He said I needed to learn my place, said he'd fuck me into place if he had to. He trapped me between himself and the floor, and kept beating me. I was helpless, I was caged. He took his pants off, and it went dark-" I can't take it anymore. I yell out angrily and rip myself out of Angels grasp.
"Don't touch me!" Gasping and breathing erratically, I sit on the edge of the bed clawing at my chest and throat. I refuse to look at Angel, but I can feel his shocked gaze. "Shit! He probably fucked my corpse and threw me in a gutter! He's probably walking around here somewhere." I feel like air is being squeezed out of my chest rather then going in. Am I going to puke? That's be embarrassing. Angel's voice sounds far away until I hear my name.
"(Y/n), stop! I'm here, he's not. You're safe. Listen to me." He doesn't touch me, but slides off the bed to rest in his knees in front of me. He looks so beautiful and innocent. "Breathe for me, darlin. Follow me, okay?" I copy his deep breaths and slow exhales, struggling at first, but eventually I stop shaking. Even more exhausted now, I slump over, and he grabs me. He moves us back to a more comfortable position in the bed, and I nuzzle into him like a lifeline. "I'm so sorry." He whispers. I don't know if he means for asking or for what happened, but I don't ask. He kisses the top of my head, and whispers sweet nothings. "I trust you, Angel."
"I trust you, too."
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Wolf in Sheeps Clothing, Another idea
While writing, it's common to come up with multiple ideas centered around one idea. For this prompt, there was quite a few I was considering:
CW: Monsterfucking, noncon, eggpreg, broodmare fetish, pregnancy kink
What if the monster was well known on the farm. You're the rookie out grazing with the sheep when your pushed down and fucked full of eggs. Your fellow farm hands drag you back to the farmhouse and explain that what this monster is. It protects the sheep and cattle and even the farmers. There isn't just one on the farm, probably dozens, but they're all complete replicas of their mimicked animal. You can't tell which one is which and at this point there's no real reason to try and discern the creatures. You're not allowed to kill them and, honestly, the only reason why they haven't tried to kill everyone here is that you're all useful for taking their brood. What does it matter that a few livestock goes missing overnight and a farmhand is left pregnant for the next few months when you some useful monsters at your side more than happy to keep the herd safe.
Or maybe the monster just leaves you there. Hole unplugged. The eggs don't settle within you and quickly try to evacuate the way they came. It takes fifteen minutes of pushing for a pile of eggs to brush between your thighs. That's when your finally able to sit up and get into a more natural position on all fours, letting gravity do all the work. You hate how pleasurable it is to birth these eggs, but you can't get pregnant with them. You'd hate to what birthing them months from now would be like. It takes an hour of groaning and painful spasming orgasms to finally feel like you've gotten rid of them all. You even stuff a hand inside to see if you can force any out manually. You're thankful when you finally get back home to owrest. Terrified of going back to tend to your flock, but shits still got to get done around here. And, as the months dredge on and try to forget what happened, you start to notice that knowing bulge of your stomach growing bigger.
I always love the stories of people being strapped to the underbellies of centaurs and being fucked with every step. It went in a way different direction than the prompt, but imagine if it hadn't left you there. Instead you were assimilated into its body. You hadn't seen the eggs against its facade, no one would be able to see you, stuffed full of tentacles at both ends and gravid with eggs. The other farmhands you worked with would wonder what happened to you, its just like you vanished into thin air. If only they knew you were being fucked among the herd grazing out in field unnoticed. The only time you weren't stuffed is when you were finally allowed to birth the eggs. They quickly grew into their own adult "sheep" and kidnapped their own broodmares to be bred. How many would have to disappear before an investigation occurred? Or maybe you were sacrificed to this creature on purpose.
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 months
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Alt Assistant Pt 4
There are benefits to Lena not being CEO.
For one, she gets to go home at night. She gets to have a life outside work. She gets to go clubbing.
Which Kara only knows because she's standing at a table during Club Velvet's busiest night of the week, watching her boss bump and grind to the music.
She's not alone either. Kara recognizes Andrea, and for brief moment jealousy sparks low and hot in her belly at the thought they might be together. But when it becomes clear that Andrea is focused on a specific man in particular, Kara accepts that they're just here as friends, just like her and Nia.
Lena, for her part, keeps up a steady rotation of dance partners, men and women alike, all outrageously gorgeous and enviably coordinated. Even from her position off the dance floor, Kara can see the sweat clinging to Lena's neck, and feels the phantom feather touch of Lena's swinging ponytail against her skin.
"Holy SHIT," Nia shouts over the music, still barely audible to Kara, let alone others. "Is that Lena?"
Nia has her memories of the previous reality, and Kara knows she's having difficulty reconciling the cozy Lena she knows with the sultry and enigmatic woman currently leaning back against a stranger's chest as her hips move under his hands.
Kara's mouth goes dry. She wants that. She wants to be that man, wants her hands on Lena's hips, her lips brushing Lena's ear.
"Well??" Nia continues, giving Kara a nudge. "Aren't you going to say hi?"
She thinks about it. She *really* thinks about it. About sliding through the throng to grasp Lena's hand and pull her flush against her front, guiding their hips into a tandem rhythm. About burying her hand in Lena's hair and pulling her in to--
Kara shakes her head. "No."
"What? Why not?"
"She's my boss!"
And if her boss knew that Kara was there, ogling her, there'd be hell to pay. She can hear it now-- don't.
At least Nia drops the issue, seemingly accepting that things are different in this reality, as evidenced by the woman continuing to dance along with the beat of the thumping music. Kara manages to go the entire night without bumping into Lena, even if her gaze returns to the dance floor again and again.
It's only until she goes to close out their tab that Kara knows she's in trouble.
"Your tab's already been paid," the bartender informs her.
The message is clear: Lena knows.
Shit.
Kara stuffs a couple bills into the tip jar and makes her escape, anxiety gnawing at her gut. The next day, Lena makes no mention of having seen her, and seems none the worse for wear after her long night. They work in easy rhythm, as Kara keeps to herself and executes her role perfectly.
Right up until Kara enters Lena's office to let her know she's heading out, and finds Lena gazing out the window. The lights in the office are low, and in the glass reflection Kara sees Lena's eyes shift to her, before languidly turning to face her.
"You liked what you saw," Lena says. Not accusation, but simple fact.
"Yes," Kara returns truthfully. She steps closer, emboldened when Lena doesn't protest.
The corner of Lena's mouth lifts. "I'm surprised you'd admit that, after the little diatribe you levied at me your first month here."
"Like I said," Kara reminds her, moving closer still, "I was an idiot."
The way Lena gazes at her sends a shiver up Kara's spine. Green eyes challenge her silently, as though waiting to see just how far she'll go. A small yet confident smile shapes Kara's lips in spite of herself, calming the butterflies in her belly.
She closes what remains of the distance between them, rewarded with a hitch of Lena's breath as Kara crosses the invisible line into her personal space. They're far too close to be professional now, their locked gazes promising exactly where they're headed.
Finally, Kara places one hand on Lena's waist, and lifts the other to brush the backs of her fingers lightly across Lena's smooth, soft cheek. She lets it come to a rest cupping the side of Lena's face, their noses nearly touching.
"Tell me to leave, and I will," Kara offers, giving Lena an out she prays won't be taken.
Lena's hands are already pulling her closer as her response drifts from her lips.
"Don't."
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iamasimperyk · 1 month
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A good fic idea maybe his ex wife comes over and the reader is over and the wife goes crazy saying that her and rafe are talking again or spent the night together and he’s not home so she leaves because she doesn’t want to start anything so rafe has to find the reader
Sorry that I couldn’t work on your request earlier but I hope you still like what I made out of it!💕
Crazy Ex -Rafe Cameron
Warnings: Manipulation, naive reader, angst, assumption of cheating, English is not my first language, not proof read
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
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You have never had a problem with the fact that Rafe had already been married once. You met him at work, and the two of you immediately had some kind of connection. You were the complete opposite of his ex-wife, maybe that was what drew him towards you.
After months of talking, you two got into a relationship, and you were nothing but happy. Rafe loved you, and you loved him, it was like a fairytale.
But in every fairytale, there was a villain, and the villain in your story was Rafe's ex-wife. She tried to get him back on multiple occasions, but Rafe just turned her down.
Today, Rafe was on a business trip, leaving you alone at Tannyhill. Exhausted, you lay on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around your body as you watched one of your favorite movies.
You let out a yawn when the doorbell suddenly rang. With a small frown, you stood up, walking to the front door before you carefully opened it.
There she was. Rafe's ex-wife. 5'7 feet tall, platin blonde hair, curves at the right place, expensive clothes, and an annoyed look on her face. You looked down at yourself, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body, suddenly feeling insecure about your own appearance.
"Well, hello," She smirked down at you, "I see, Rafe, still didn't get rid of you."
You slightly gulped, "Rafe is not here. He is in Tennessee."
"Well, that's what he told you, but what if I tell you that we started talking again." Her smirk was even bigger than before.
"He would never do that. We both know that." You crossed your arms over your chest.
"Why don't you take a look at his location, sweetie?" She told you.
Immediately, you started chewing on your lower lip, a thing you always did when you were nervous. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his location. He was at hers.
"Told you. Why don't you start packing your shit? I will move in again in a few days." She hissed, walking towards her car before she drove off.
After a small breakdown at the front door, you packed your most important stuff and left.
You didn't even text Rafe. You just wanted to be alone and at peace.
----
The next day Rafe came home.
"Y/n, I am back." He smiled, waiting for you to run downstairs, but you never did. He started to shout your name again and again until he finally realized you were gone.
Quickly, he called you, but you didn't pick up. After he sent you hundreds of messages, he thought about checking your location.
Your parents' house. Of course.
He ran to his car and drove to their house.
Your mom opened the door, wanting to shut it as soon as she saw him, "Y/m/n, please, I need to talk to her." He pleaded, still not knowing what he did wrong.
"But she doesn't want to talk to you." Your mother replied angrily.
After a few seconds of silence, you appeared behind her, "It's okay, Mom."
"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes not leaving Rafe.
You gave her a small nod, and she disappeared into the living room.
"Why didn't you answer my calls?" He asked desperately.
"Because I didn't wanna talk to you." You simply answered.
Rafe looked at you, taking a step closer, "What did I do?"
"You lied to me about your trip to Tennessee." You mumbled.
He quickly shook his head, "No, why would you say this?"
"Oh, please, I saw your location. You were at your ex-wife's." You started to fiddle with your fingers.
Rafe's eyes widen, "You have to believe me when I tell you I never was there after we divorced."
"I saw it with my own eyes. She came when you were gone and-" You started, but Rafe was quick to interrupt you.
"She came when I was gone? Just to tell you that I am at her place?" He asked, and you just nodded.
"Don't you hear how ridiculous that sounds?" He sighed, and you finally started to think about the situation.
"B-but she-" You started but couldn't find the right words.
"I don't know how she faked my location, but I promise I never lied to you. I love you." He smiled a little, wrapping his arms around you.
"I am so stupid. I am sorry." You mumbled, feeling extremely guilty to believe his manipulative ex-wife.
"It's okay, just don't run away the next time she tells you shit." He chuckled.
"Promise," You kissed him, "Oh, and I have to make sure my parents won‘t kill you.“
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writingforstraykids · 1 month
Text
I owe you a kiss - Pt.6
Pairing: Minchan x femReader
Word Count: 5362
Summary: Once you're back home, your husbands try their best to support you, but the circumstances are taking their toll on you. It all goes well until you find out who was the one driving that night...
Warnings/Tags: mention of amnesia, angst, tiny mention of blood, fluff, cuddles, anxious!soft!min, caring!soft!channie, domestic stuff, husband!min, husband!chan
A/N: I know, I know it looks like shit in the beginning but trust the word count, it'll get all good, soft and domestic🖤
PART FIVE | PART SEVEN
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Minho slips out of his shoes and stands still for a moment. Chan closes the door and hesitantly slips his hand into Minho's. “Kitten?” he asks quietly but gets no response. “Min, look at me, please.”
Minho does, looking at him with wet eyes, still not saying a word. Chan gently rubs his shoulders before cupping his face and flashing him a small smile. “I know I should be happy,” he finally says. “I know I should be relieved that she's awake and talking. I know I should be happy that we finally got her back. I know I shouldn't still be feeling like shit,” he rambles, and Chan soothingly fondles his cheeks. “But you know how much she hates losing control. You know how scared she gets of change,” he hiccups helplessly, and a few hot tears slip down his cheeks. “Once it'll all settle in, she'll hate me, and I-I can't even blame her because I did-didn't do anything else those p-past two months a-and-.”
“Hey,” Chan says so softly it makes him shut his mouth. “I won't let that happen, baby. It was an accident and there was nothing you could've done,” he says firmly and pulls him in close. “I'm so thankful you're both alive, you know? I don't know-” his voice breaks, and Minho's heart sinks at the sound. “I don't know what I would've done if…,” he stops himself, not daring to put his deepest fear into words. “I get it, Minnie because it would've been a lot easier without the memory loss. I'm terrified of hurting her because I'm not fully feeling well yet. But as long as you won't let go of my hand in all this, I know I'll be okay.”
Minho carefully pulls Chan's hands off his face and intertwines their fingers. “I won't let go,” he says.
“I'll always have your back, okay?” Chan asks timidly, and Minho nods quickly. 
“And I'll have yours,” he promises and squeezes his hands. 
“I could really use a hug,” Chan admits, and Minho doesn't hesitate, pulling him close and kissing his cheek. He gently sways them from side to side and exhales softly. “I love you, Min.”
“I love you too, Channie,” Minho whispers back and squeezes him tightly. 
-
Minho gently helps you out of your jacket and hangs it up for you. Neither Chan nor Minho had remembered that you only moved in here one and a half years ago, so the house was another factor. He watches you glance around the hallway timidly and swallows softly. “Anything familiar?” he asks gently. 
You swallow hard and shake your head. “Not besides…some of the interior,” you tell him. 
He notices how anxious it makes you and carefully slips his hand into yours. “Let me give you a tour, come on.”
You follow him through the house and recognize some bits of your old home. He tells you where to find the most important things, and seems like he's afraid to say anything wrong. It makes you sick seeing your husband try so hard to make you comfortable in a suddenly so unfamiliar place. “I-I'll go use the bathroom real quick,” you tell him, and he nods, telling you again where to find it. 
You close the door and take a deep breath, hugging yourself tightly. “Fuck,” you whisper and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. If you wouldn't know Minho and Chan had been your boyfriends for four years and then husbands for another five you would've freaked out at the hospital. You couldn't remember the past two years of your marriage, but the seven years before are enough to trust them. Still, it all feels so weird. You don't notice how much time has passed until Minho gently knocks at the door and lets himself in. He sits down next to you, and for a moment, you're both quiet. “Minho?” you ask timidly. 
“Yeah?” he asks gently, turning to look at you. 
“Have I been a good wife to you and Chan? Did we have fights? Did I hurt you? Did you hurt me?” you ask, and he inhales deeply. “I know this sounds weird, but…I have no idea where we left off.”
Minho fidgets with his wedding bands and hums thoughtfully. “I can't remember anything big concerning the two of us, we usually get along very well,” he tells you, a small smile on his lips. “We were on a date before the accident. I was very tired, was fighting with Chan over the phone, and…you said you'd take me out for dinner. You were trying to cheer me up, and you did, you always do,” he says and gently clears his throat, pushing away the images of what happened after. 
“What about Chan?” you ask timidly, sensing something off. 
Minho straightens up and pinches his nose, trying to figure out where to start. “About…six months ago, Channie wasn't feeling very well. He was overwhelmed with work and had no resources left for either of us, including himself. He pushed us both away, and one night, when I was abroad, he called me, saying he got into a fight with you and something was seriously wrong,” he tells you and chews on his lower lip. “I called you, asking you to go back and check on him as I flew back home. Chan was feeling numb for quite some time, and we did our best to support him figure out ways to make him feel again. After a while, he decided to visit his family in Australia, take a break, and everything. I stepped in for him at work, and it was killing me,” he admits. “I missed him like hell. I had to lead our team, and I felt lost without him, but you never gave up on me,” he says and his hand subconsciously slips into yours. “He caught me on a bad day, we got into an argument, and well…then we had that accident. Channie got onto the next plane and came back home as fast as he could.”
“Is he still struggling?” you ask hesitantly, and Minho smiles weakly. 
“I don't know, Y/nnie. This whole thing has taken a huge toll on me. I broke down repeatedly and Chan took care of me as best as he could. He even got me a therapist, imagine that,” he laughs, and you can tell he's not really doing well with any of this. “I don't think he had much time to figure out how he truly feels. I should've been there for him more, but I…I could barely get myself out of bed sometimes.”
“I'm sorry,” you apologize timidly, squeezing his hand. “I'm so sorry, Min.”
Minho shakes his head firmly. “None of this is your fault,” he says and searches your eyes. “None of it, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod hesitantly. 
Minho inhales shakily, a suspicious shimmer covering his eyes. “I know this whole memory thing is shit, honey. I feel selfish for saying this, but I'm just so glad you're alive and back home.”
You smile weakly and squeeze his hand firmly. “As long as I have you two, I'll be okay sooner or later.”
Minho gently squeezes back and looks up as Chan steps into the doorframe. “Oh my, am I interrupting something?” he chuckles. 
“Hey, Channie love,” Minho says softly and Chan leans down to give him a kiss. 
“Hey, kitten,” he smiles, gently caressing his cheek. Chan turns to you and gently brushes back your hair, kissing your head, unsure if you feel like kissing. “You're okay?”
“More or less,” you nod, and he sits down on your other side. 
“We're always here if you need someone,” he tells you and gently pats your knee. 
“Thanks,” you nod tiredly. “I really appreciate it, this can't be easy for you either.”
Minho remains quiet this time and glances at Chan. “We're just glad to have you back. The rest we can figure out together,” he assures you. “Just let us know, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod gently. 
-
You turn onto your side heavily and are met with a sight that used to bring a smile to your face. Minho's asleep next to you, his hair hanging into his face, lips parted, and his bunny teeth showing a little. His lashes throw their shadows on his cheekbones and you once more notice how beautiful he is. You've been home for a week now and Minho took another two months off to keep an eye on you. You like being home with Min because he's there when you need him but lets you be when you don't. He doesn't push, he doesn't talk your ears off, and he tries his best not to handle you like you're made out of glass. Still, you can tell he doesn't see you when he looks at you. He doesn't see his wife. He sees the accident and the woman he lost due to the memory loss, and the guilt in his eyes suffocates you sometimes. 
You haven't dared look up the accident yet, but slowly, you can't fight the urge to see what really happened that night. Minho doesn't like talking about it, and Chan wasn't there. 
You slip out of bed and grab your phone, leaving your husband on his own. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you start researching and soon find article over article. Pictures of the crashed car send shivers down your spine. Investigating some further you can tell how worried your friends were about Minho during their interviews, who looks nothing but truly exhausted. You can tell he hasn't been sleeping much; his eyes look glassy in most of them, and Chan never leaves his side.
-
Minho looks up as you come downstairs to join him for breakfast and gets up, putting some waffles on your plate. “Thought you'd like something sweet,” he says and flashes you a smile. 
“Who was driving?” you ask, making him freeze for a second. 
“What do you mean?” he asks, but the slight tremble in his voice tells you he knows exactly what you mean. 
“The accident. Who was driving?” you ask again, stopping in front of the table. 
Minho carefully puts the plate down in front of you. “Does it matter?” he asks timidly. 
“It does,” you nod, tilting your head at him. “Will you be honest with me, or do I have to ask someone else?”
He stares at you, wondering what you're aiming at with that question, but gives himself a push. “I was.”
“Were you drunk?” you ask, and Minho's frown deepens. 
“No.”
“You said you were tired, was that it? Was that what made you miss something?” you ask, and he subconsciously takes a step back. “Were you so upset about Chan that you weren't paying attention?” 
“Y/nnie,” he pleads quietly. “Don’t do this.”
“Min,” you say firmly. “I can't remember the past two years of my life. I don't know what happened and no one can tell me because that'll only be your version of every day,” you say and take a shuddery breath. “Chan hasn't kissed me once since I'm back home, and you look at me like I'm something broken you're too attached to to get rid of. That hurts, Min. I just want my fucking life back!”
Minho raises his hands in defense and steps closer to you. “Honey, I'm sorry, you're right. I can't make up for all that time. But she said they'd come back to you in a few months, at least that the chance is very, very high,” he tries, but the way your eyes darken, he knows you don't want to hear any of it. He tries to brace himself for the emotional outburst that's about to happen, but he can't prepare himself for what you say next. 
“No, you really can't make up for it. Not if you're the one causing this whole mess,” you say, noticing the fear flickering in his eyes, but you don't care. “You were the one driving, you're the one feeling guilty, and now I know why. My whole life went to shit because of you!” you snap at him. Minho doesn't say anything, simply stares at you as your words sink in. His body trembles, his stomach tightening painfully, and his eyes filling with tears. “You fucked everything up, and you're trying so hard to make up for it by staying home with me. Now I know why you so desperately try to make me feel better, and I thought it was because you loved me!”
Minho looks at you as if you just hit him right in the face. A soft whimper leaves his lips, snapping you out of your rage, before tears start running down his face, and his body shakes with a sob. “I know, okay?!” he snaps right back at you. “I know it's all my fault! I-I know I fucked up, and I-I'm the one to b-blame,” he hiccups helplessly, taking a few steps back as you reach for him timidly. “I'm sorry, Y/nnie, I swear, I did-didn't want this.”
“Min,” you whisper guiltily, but your husband shakes his head firmly, biting back a sob. “I'm so sorry, darling, I didn't mean it.”
“Don't lie,” he says, voice cracking. 
“I'm sorry, please,” you try, but Minho pushes past you and goes back upstairs. You let him, knowing he can't handle you, seeing how badly you just hurt him. Helplessly, you grab your phone and call Chan. 
“Hey, baby girl, I'm on my way home. Is everything-.”
“Channie,” you whimper. 
“What's wrong, baby?” he asks worriedly, putting you on speaker. 
“I hurt Min,” you tell him, hugging yourself tightly and sitting down on the sofa. 
“Hurt him how?” he asks nervously, taking a turn left. 
“I said some dumb stuff about him being responsible for my life turning to shit and that the accident was his fault,” you say, and it's quiet for a moment. “Chan?”
“Ynnie…please tell me you didn't,” Chan says lowly, heart sinking to his stomach. “Please tell me you didn't.”
“I'm sorry, Channie, I didn't mean it,” you whisper timidly. “I was just…I don't know what got into me.”
“I…fuck, okay, I'll be home in a bit,” he tells you, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. 
“Thank you,” you sniffle. 
Chan stares at his phone as you end the call and slams his hand on the wheel. “Fucks sake Ynnie, not when I finally convinced him otherwise,” he curses and finally reaches your street. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Chan quietly pulls the front door closed behind himself and swallows hard as he meets your anxious eyes. “Where is he?” he asks. 
“Upstairs,” you tell him. “Channie, I'm sorry,” you tell him, tears filling your eyes. “I'm so sorry.”
Chan sighs softly and opens his arms for you, pulling you into a tight hug as you get up. “I know you are. I know you're struggling, and I know we can't take that pain away,” he says, soothingly rubbing your back. “But baby girl, you can't forget Minho is a victim here too. He might have been the one driving, but he's also the one who saw you unconscious, covered in blood, and not knowing if you'd ever wake up again,” he tells you gently, without sounding like he's blaming you even a little. “He still feels guilty because he'd rather be the one getting hurt. He's been having nightmares and panic attacks and had a really hard time believing that it isn't his fault, you know?”
“I just fucked that up, didn't I?” you ask timidly. 
“I don't know,” he answers honestly. 
“I asked him if he was drunk,” you admit shamefully. 
Chan bites back a sigh, trying to be patient with you. “Okay, come on,” he says and pulls you to the sofa. “The police provided us the security camera footage, where you very clearly see who's at fault,” he says and grabs his phone, showing you the clip. 
You can see your car pulling up at the crossroads. Suddenly, a car races down the street from the right and crashes right into your side. It's raining heavily, making the road slippery and causing both cars to slide to the side a few meters. Once the video is over, you look at Chan horrified. 
“That other driver was drunk,” he tells you gently. “He was speeding, ignored a red light, and honestly, looking at this, it's a miracle you two are still alive. So please, don't blame anyone else but that guy, hm?” 
You nod quickly and chew on your lower lip anxiously. “Channie angel?”
“Yeah?” he asks gently. 
“Can you tell him I'm sorry? I don't think he wants to see me right now,” you say timidly. 
Chan nods and kisses your temple. “I will. We'll fix this, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod, relieved. 
“I'll go check on him, alright?” he asks, and you nod bravely. Chan grabs a blanket and wraps you up in it, flashing you an encouraging smile. “We'll be okay.”
You timidly grab his hand and search his eyes. “I love you.”
Chan's face softens. “I love you too, baby girl.” 
-
Chan opens the door to the room he uses to work from home, suspecting that's where he'll find Minho. His heart breaks a little as he sees him sitting on the small sofa there, his legs hugged up to his chest. Minho's wearing a sweater of his, burying his face in its sleeves as he takes shaky breaths, clearly trying to calm down. He silently closes the door and walks over, kneeling down in front of him and soothingly rubbing his thighs. “Bunny?” he asks so softly Minho looks up with wide, teary eyes. It's a term reserved for their most private, intimate moments and it never fails to make Minho feel so safe and loved. 
He doesn't say anything, body moving on its own as he slips from the sofa and crawls right into his lap. Chan welcomes him with one of his most loving and healing hugs, nuzzling his nose into his hair. 
“I love you,” Chan whispers, cradling his head. Minho slumps against him, burying himself into his arms as deeply as he can, growing so small it breaks Chan's heart. 
“I'm so tired, Chan,” Minho says, voice raspy from crying. “I'm so fucking tired.”
“I know,” Chan says and turns with him in his hold, leaning against the sofa. “How can I help?”
“There's nothing you can do,” he answers quietly. “She hates me. I fucked up her life.”
“You really think that?” he asks patiently. 
“Doesn't matter. She does,” he says. 
“Do you?” he asks. “You think you fucked up her life?”
“Apparently, I'm not exactly making it easier,” he answers. “Since I'm the drunken, heartbroken, distracted fuck who got us into that accident.”
Chan mindlessly rubs his lower back. “Apparently…so you don't believe it.”
“I-” Minho grows quiet before pulling back and searching his eyes timidly. “Does that matter if she does?”
“To me, it does,” he nods. “You've been blaming yourself for months, saying the most hurtful shit about yourself…I think you made some progress,” he says calmly. 
“Not really,” he shakes his head. “The minute someone throws it at my face, I agree with them.”
“Bunny, can I tell you something?” he asks, and Minho nods tiredly. “She called me the minute you left, saying she fucked up. She asked me to tell you she's sorry because you probably wouldn't want to see her now.”
Minho's eyes fill with tears. “Really?” he asks timidly, and Chan nods. “I really thought she hated me now.”
Chan gently cups his face and plants a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. “She doesn't, I promise.” 
Minho messily wipes his cheeks with the sleeves before stopping in his movement and groaning at himself. “Fuck, I completely messed up your sweater.”
“That's okay,” Chan giggles softly. “We can wash it.”
Minho hums and smiles shyly. “Just really needed you close after that,” he tells him. 
“You're so cute,” he smiles happily. “Also-” he gets interrupted by the door opening. The two of them look up and see you standing in the doorframe, shaking with sobs. 
Minho moves before Chan can fully comprehend the sight and wraps you into a tight hug. “Shh, honey, it's okay.”
You hug back tightly and shake your head. “Nothing is okay,” you sob. “I hurt you. Just be-because I can't cope with what's happening.”
“It's okay,” Minho whispers gently, caressing your head. “I promise we're okay.”
You timidly grab his sweater a little tighter and bury yourself into him. “I'm sorry, Min. You didn't fuck up anything,” you hiccup. “I love you so much.”
Minho buries his face in your shoulder and shakes his head. “I know,” he whispers and squeezes you gently. “I love you too, my pretty girl.” 
“I just wanna feel normal again,” you whimper, and Minho's hold on you tightens. 
“Try and give yourself some credit, honey. You went through some shit, and you're still dealing with the aftermath,” he says softly and kisses your hair. “Try being a little more patient with yourself.”
Chan smiles sadly, remembering himself saying something so similar to Minho only weeks ago when they went for a walk. So he did listen. 
Two weeks later
You anxiously meet your reflection in the mirror before staring down at your products on the sink. Chan said he'd take you both out to dinner, and you just wanted to look nice but you had trouble remembering your routines. You talked to your doctor about it, and she told you it's completely normal to get confused easily by those things at the moment. 
Minho walks into the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt, and flashes you a gentle smile. “You're alright, beautiful?” 
“Yeah,” you nod quickly and stare back down at your things. “I…I think I need help,” you tell him, glancing up at him as he fixes his hair. 
“Sure, what do you need?” he asks, not quite picking up on your struggle yet. Minho grabs your concealer and carefully hides the dark patches beneath his eyes. He's still not sleeping well, and it shows. 
“I uh, I forgot what I usually do,” you tell him, waving at the various items displayed at the sink. “Like…did I have some sort of routine? Because if I did it's nonexistent in my brain right now.”
“Oh,” he nods and puts your concealer back down. “Uh, I'm not sure, but I can still help,” he tells you, and you smile relieved. “One second,” he winks at you and leaves the room, coming back with a chair. “Alright, take a seat, honey.”
You giggle softly and do as you're told. Chan joins you, chuckling in confusion as he sees you. “Min's helping me, my brain is letting me down right now.”
“Oh,” he laughs and watches Minho grab some of your things. “Yeah, it's good you asked him and not me.”
“I had a feeling,” you tease him lovingly.
Chan chuckles and turns back to the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He fixes his hair that frames his face in those beautiful curls you love so much and you can see the frown forming on his face before it’s fully there. It’s beyond you how both of your husbands were this stunningly pretty and still had their trouble believing so, Chan much more than Min. “Channie?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “You look very handsome.”
Chan meets your eyes through the mirror, face softening. “Thank you, baby girl,” he says with a sweet, shy smile. Minho turns around, taking in the sight of his husband, and hums agreeingly before slapping his bum. Chan snorts and fondly rolls his eyes. “Typical.”
“That’s your own fault wearing those trousers,” he smirks before getting started with helping you. “Who even allowed you to leave the house in those, huh? Surely not me. No one else should be allowed to see how well-.”
“Minho,” Chan whines in protest, blushing heavily. “Shut up, will you?”
Minho smiles softly and then you realize he must’ve noticed Chan’s insecurities getting the better of him as well. “Only because it’s you,” he tells him fondly. “So, I think you started like this,” he tells you. He talks you through it, checking in with you if what he’s doing makes sense, and tries his best to make you satisfied with the result. Only a little later you’re ready to go and thank him happily. “Always, princess,” he assures you kindly. “You need help with your hair as well?”
“No, thank you, darling,” you smile at him. “I’ll be done in a bit.”
“No rush, honey,” he tells you and kisses your cheek before leaving you some space. He joins Chan downstairs, who’s standing at the kitchen island, bent forward on his elbows as he checks his phone. Minho smiles at the sight and steps behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Chan gently intertwines their hands on his stomach and finishes his message to Lix with one hand. “You’re alright, kitten?”
“Yeah,” he nods and nuzzles his face into his neck. “Ah, you put on my favorite cologne,” he smirks, burying his nose deeper into his skin. 
Chan hums, agreeing, and turns off his phone, turning in his hold. He smiles as their eyes meet and gently nudges his nose with his own. “Pretty boy,” he whispers, and Minho blushes softly. “I miss you.”
“Miss me?” Minho frowns gently. “I’m right here, love.”
“No..like,” he leaves the sentence unfinished, gently squeezing Minho’s hips. 
“Oh,” Minho laughs brightly and kisses him sweetly. “I can stop by the company tomorrow, just make sure Sungie and Binnie aren’t around.”
“I think I can arrange that,” Chan chuckles, gently cupping his face.
“Don’t start anything you can’t finish now,” Minho warns him, and Chan rolls his eyes, kissing him lovingly. Minho kisses back sweetly and pulls back soon, knowing Chan could get lost in kissing way too quickly. They really didn’t have time for this now. Not with you coming downstairs any minute, still finding your way back into your marriage. “Channie…is that place you picked in walking distance?” he asks. 
“I figured there’s a chance she doesn’t feel safe to drive yet, so yes,” he nods, and Minho hums, relieved. “Also, you aren’t exactly keen to sit in a car yet, either.”
“Not really,” he chuckles agreeingly. “Thank you, Channie.”
“For what?” he frowns softly.
“For being so considerate and caring,” he smiles, shaking his head as Chan is about to respond. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing now, I will kick you.”
“Oh,” Chan nods, holding back a laugh. 
“Idiot,” he giggles fondly, poking his side.
“I’m ready,” you interrupt them gently, standing a little away from them.
Chan smiles at you sweetly. “You look beautiful, baby girl,” he tells you, and you mirror his smile. 
“Our beautiful girl,” Minho agrees proudly, taking your hand and pulling you closer. “We should probably leave, right?”
Chan checks his watch. “Yeah, we should.”
You swallow softly and glance at them timidly. “Can I sit in the back?” you ask.
“I thought we could take a walk, it’s close by. If we’re lucky, we can see the stars on our way back home,” he says, watching your eyes brim with tears. “Or we can take the car?” he asks nervously.
“No,” you shake your head and laugh weakly. “I would prefer walking,” you assure him. “Thank you, Channie angel.”
“God, you two sometimes,” he breathes out, squeezing Min’s and your hand. “It’s nothing, really an-ey!” he breaks off in protest as Minho punches his shoulder.
“I told you, it’s not nothing. It means a lot, my love, and we’re very happy to have you,” he says. “Also, be glad I didn’t kick your pretty a-.”
“Okay,” Chan laughs and pulls you both with him. “Enough of this now, you’ll make me get all sappy, let’s go.”
-
You enjoy your first evening out immensely. It makes you feel less like something’s wrong with you. Both Chan and Minho focus mostly on you, making sure you’re alright and comfortable. The many smells and loud noises are overwhelming at first, and they try their best to distract you. Once you allow yourself to relax, things get easier. Dinner is delicious, but what truly makes your evening is the laughter, gentle touches, and the way they make sure you’re part of the conversation. 
On your walk home, you indeed see the stars painting the dark canvas of the night sky. You’re walking between them, holding onto their hands, and feel a lot closer to Chan as well. Minho occasionally points out constellations, sometimes playfully bickering with Chan about the correct name. You find yourself smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in a while. You think about your day and suddenly stop in your tracks, leading to your husbands turning in confusion. 
“Y/nnie?” Chan frowns as your eyes fill with tears. “Are you okay?”
“I remember that place,” you breathe out, and they both stare at you with wide eyes. “We had dinner there the week we moved in, didn’t we? Channie, you spilled your drink all over Min’s pants. Min, you wouldn’t stop cursing because it got all sticky and-” you break off in wonder as your mind forms such vivid pictures of that day. 
Minho laughs wetly, a hot tear falling down his face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”
Chan still stares at you in wonder before laughing weakly. “You remember?”
You nod happily, messily wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I know that’s not much, but-.”
“No, baby, this is huge,” Chan smiles through tears, wrapping you into a tight hug. “That’s your first breakthrough after only three weeks, baby.”
You giggle happily and beam at Minho, who’s still frozen in place. Reaching out for him, he takes your hand and lets you pull him into your hug. Minho cups your cheek and kisses your forehead softly. “I’m so happy for you,” he tells you genuinely.
-
Back home, as you prepare for bed, the weight of the day slowly settles on your shoulders. For the first time since you got back home it doesn’t feel like the burden of another wasted day but a blanket of comfort. It reminds you of the love and care that surrounds you in the presence of your husbands. Minho brushes your hair as Chan takes off your makeup for you, both as gentle as they can get.
As you lay in bed between them, the events of the past few weeks replay in your mind. The argument with Minho feels like a very distant memory now, simply a hurdle you’ve all overcome together. His forgiveness, his understanding, and his undying love for you feel like a balm for your wounded, anxious heart. Chan’s patience, kindness, and unwavering support for the two of you remind you of the strength of your bond.
In the quiet of the night, with Chan’s steady breathing on one side and Minho’s warm presence on the other, you feel a sense of peace lull you in. The road to your recovery would still be a long one, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that there wouldn’t be any more challenges.
You whisper a quiet “I love you” into the darkness, and in the soft murmur of their responses, you find a promise—a promise of healing and a love that will never leave you. You don’t know why, but right here, you understand that no matter what comes your way, you’ll face it together as a family. With that thought, you drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing that with Chan and Minho by your side, you’ll be okay. You would talk to Chan about the distance you feel another day, and you’d work through your shared trauma with Minho another time, supporting him through his share of the deal as well. For today, you’re glad to be able to fall asleep between the loves of your life.
PART FIVE | PART SEVEN
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shaunamilfman · 5 months
Text
Being Lottie Matthews Controversially Young Girlfriend
Adult Timeline Headcanons
nsfw mention
you and lottie definitely have a meet-cute moment at the farmers market. love at first sight fr she's trying to get you to move in the wellness center within the month. “but y/n if you live in the dorms again you'd be here all the time anyways. Just move in 😁. it's cheaper that way.”
coming home after a long day to see Lottie laying in bed and just burying your face in her cleavage. She's surprised the first time you do it, nearly dropping her book and tries to catch you thinking you've fallen, but she's gotten so used to it now that she doesn't even react. she sets her book down gently on the nightstand and runs her hands soothingly through your hair. 
she has absolutely no shame about dating you despite the large age difference. she's hyping you up to her cult wellness center members talking about how good you're doing in college and shit. “yeah 😁 she really aced that exam she was worried about 😁😁”. she got one of those stickers like “my girlfriend goes to x college”. 
she def packs you lunch and stuff to take with you. lottie can't cook for shit but she can make a mean sandwich. you're like “i only have one class today.” and she's still shoving snacks into your bag lmao. 
im convinced lottie is a bit of a technophobe so she's consulting your ass on everything. you get woken up in the middle of your nap to go turn the wellness center computer off and on again. you spend 20 minutes trying to talk her through sending an email before you give up and type it yourself while she dictates. she looks particularly smug after that one, so you think she may have gotten one over on you. she's so genuine most of the time that you're never quite sure. 
Lottie's a lot older than you but I really don't think she'd have all that much sexual experience given her circumstances. if she had slept with others before you it wouldn't have been that all that many. lottie would definitely be aware that she'd be expected to have more experience and is a little hesitant about telling you that she doesn't. point is I mostly just think she'd be very shy and blushy the first few times you had sex. 
going along with it once when someone assumes you’re her daughter to try to playfully embarrass her. she just shrugs and makes a note in the back of her mind to kiss you in front of them at some point. some poor cult member walks in on you like two fingers deep in your ‘mom’ and is so traumatized by the ordeal. Lottie's all smiles the whole time. she fr giggled a bit when they left she's so devious. 
Lottie mentions movies she liked as a kid and you're off-handedly like “oh I don't think I was alive when that came out.” and she just full on winces. she spirals a bit over it every time she's so dramatic. 
Lottie's constantly trying to initiate sex wearing like beautiful and intricate lingerie all the time while you're wearing whatever random shit you happened to have on like "please warn a girl omg". Lottie's ass is still like 😍😍. she does not care in the slightest what your wearing lmao it's on site.
Lottie wears silk pajamas with like robes and shit to sleep. they've got her initials monogrammed on the pocket and she buys you matching ones in your favorite colors. she wouldn't be upset if you didn't wear them but she always looks so excited when you do. she also has like a ridiculously expensive sheet set on her bed. it's soft as hell though you've got to give her that. all that and your little cotton blanket you bring for when she inevitably steals all of the bigger blanket from you in her sleep. 
Lottie for sure tries to pay for all of your things. you try to pay for them yourself but she always seems to know. she pops out of nowhere with her debit card just as you're checking out like 😁. Lottie's not paying for your things expecting sexual favors out of it but she'd absolutely receive them. dropping to your knees in front of her after she pays for your textbooks??
she has no idea how much things cost. she's def like “how much could a banana cost? $10?”
the reading glasses stay on during sex. she's so embarrassed the first time you see her with them on but gets over it very quickly when you immediately jump her bones. 
Lottie buys you a shit ton of clothes. they're all styles you like, but you can't help but notice they're all heliotrope. you're just like 🙄 whenever she gifts you a new shirt. 
grinning ear to ear whenever you introduce your milf girlfriend to your friends. you're so smug about it that it honestly makes lottie a little shy. she def really likes it though she's just always so blushy when you compliment her in any way.
she calls you so many pet names. it's all honey, baby, sweetie, princess, etc with Lottie. going feral over the idea of lottie calling you love. 
Lottie's so physically clingy. she just loves laying on top of you with her head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat. she loves when you play with her hair. she chases your hand with her head like a dog if you try to stop lmao.
you'll catch her just staring at you all the time she has no shame
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dnpbeats · 2 months
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drop the dan loving goblin phil essay rn
(in reference to my tag on this post)
OKAY SO! In BIG dan says this about phil: "And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. [...] Especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference" (ty @goldenpinof for the transcript 🕺). Now obviously, this is in the context of dan being gay so for the most part he's referencing his sexuality here when he talks about being accepted, and I am not trying to undermine that at all. But I think that phil's acceptance of dan went deeper than just his sexuality (goblin Phil comes into this I promise lol).
dan also talks a bit in BIG about how he was nerdy and was bullied for that before he was bullied for being gay. He's also mentioned other times how being nerdy/geeky didn't use to be accepted. In the 4/13 stereo show, dan says: "Before YouTube, if you were a nerd, you felt like you weren't a valid member of society unless you were, like, captain of the football team or whatever. [...] Now, thanks to social media, it's like 'oh, okay, well if someone like Hank Green can exist, I'm fine.'" What's extra interesting about this example specifically is that dan is talking about representation in response to a fan prompting him to talk about queer representation in media. So like, yes the majority of dan's struggles in accepting himself were surrounding his sexuality, but I do also think there was a layer of being a nerdy kid at a time when it wasn't cool or fun that added onto him not accepting himself. And I do not think that that's completely separate from his nonacceptance of his sexuality.
So, what exactly does this have to do with dan expecting phil to be super debonair and then having those expectations shattered? But then still wanting phil, arguably even more than he did before? Well, I think that phil was (and is) unapologetically himself, and that was inspiring for dan to see. dan said in BIG that he didn't meet an out gay person until he was 18, so either that person was phil himself or he met phil shortly afterwards and phil was therefore one of the first out gay people dan knew. and we know from phil's coming out video that he wasn't ashamed of his sexuality at that time. but phil's acceptance of himself goes beyond his sexuality, like just look at his YouTube content at the time. he was doing experimental stuff that was weird as shit (I don't mean that in a bad way I like his old vids!). most people probably would not have the confidence or self-assurance to make the stuff he was making, let alone post it. and then, beyond that, he was just a nerdy guy himself! but it was something that he openly talked about online and we know he and dan bonded over video games/tv shows/etc.
And now let's think about this from dan's perspective. He's been watching this guy's videos forever. He's been talking to him online for the past couple of months, and while he was talking with phil (rather than "amazingphil"), I'm sure there was still that element of like "wow holy shit I can't believe I'm talking with amazingphil!" Hence why dan says in the mean girls video that he was expecting phil to be all "hi, I'm amazingphil! 😏" when they first met (also side note, when dan starts to make this joke phil starts doing it at the same time, so I'm sure this is a discussion they've had before lol). but Phil wasn't like that!!! he was all hunched over and awkward and dorky! because he was nervous!! BUT he wasn't ashamed of that. he wasn't trying to put on some AmazingPhil™ Smooth Operator Refined front. He was just himself. Unapologetically so. And for dan, I think that that meant so much in terms of accepting himself, but also feeling accepted. because how was he going to believe phil when he said "dan I love you for who you are" if phil was hiding himself around dan?
So yeah, I think that's why dan saw goblin phil, not amazingphil, and was still like "yeah I want to build my life with this person." Because for him, phil represented self-acceptance and being accepted and a safe place and someone who he could be on the same wavelength with and true unconditional love and someone he can geek out with and someone who will let him yap for an hour about whatever the hell dan has decided to talk about that day. of course he would like phil more than whatever version of amazingphil he had built up in his head. because phil loves dan for who he truly is and dan loves phil for who he truly is :)
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mendeshoney · 7 months
Note
can u do a imagine that you and barzal get into a argument and it ends happily
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The door slams loudly behind you, and you whirl around, fire in your eyes and venom in your words when you say "Just because you're angry that you're not getting your way doesn't mean you can start slamming shit like a caveman."
Mat's nostrils flare, the vein popping in his neck. "I'm not angry because I'm 'not getting my way,' I'm angry because you're just not listening."
"No, you're the one not listening, Mat. I've said exactly how I felt a dozen times. My mind hasn't changed, and we keep coming back to this same argument because everything I say goes in one ear and out the other with you. You can ask me as many times as you want, but I am not going to uproot and change my entire life around just because you feel like it suits you better."
"But we're dating! And we're in love! What's so wrong with living together if we're dating?"
You push air out of your nostrils, the brunch the two of you just ate turning sour in your stomach. "As I've told you over and over, we've only been together for three months, Mathew. You and I have entirely different schedules, entirely different lives, and I am both not ready to and believe that we are not in a place where I feel I can share my space with you that way, or take that step with you, until we've been together a little longer."
"I can respect your schedule, life, and space, and still do it as your boyfriend who lives with you." He pushes, gesturing around to your apartment. "Have I not done that so far?"
"You have," you say, frustration creeping through your veins at the fact that you've having to explain yourself yet again. "But you've done so because you don't live here. I do. And I've done the same at your place because I don't live there."
Mat waves a hand dismissively. "We sleep over at each other's places all the time, what's the difference if it happens all the time instead of a few times a week?"
"Because that's temporary! That's basically us playing house, not actually living together." You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose when you can feel a headache starting to bloom at the back of your skull.
"Well I don't see what's so wrong with me wanting someone to come home to at the end of the day." Mat bites out, and your eyes squeeze shut.
"You already do that. You call me or text me or you ask if you can come over if you need to see me at the end of the day, and I do the same to you."
His face hardens. "Oh, I see. It's fine that way because I get to leave after, right?"
Your eyes fly open and your hands drop to your sides. "Mathew," you warn. "You're being extremely unreasonable right now, and I do not have the energy to continue repeating the same script over and over until it finally sinks in."
"How am I being unreasonable? I'm pointing out the obvious here!"
And that...that's your limit.
The two of you had been arguing about this for the last two weeks off and on, and you'd hoped that this would be the last time.
You don't know if you had another fight like this in you.
"If you can't take no for an answer, then I think it's best you just leave."
He blinks, taking a step back like you've shoved him. "What?"
"I think you should leave." You repeat. "You're not listening to me, you're only hearing the things you think you can pick apart to try to win the argument. But arguing with the person you're in a relationship with isn't about winning, it's about understanding, and you and I clearly don't understand each other right now. So you should leave."
"Baby, I-" he says, swallowing a lump in his throat, and you sigh a little.
"Not like that, just...I just think we need to cool down, okay?"
You can see it in the lines of his body that he wants to protest, to demand to stay and work things out, but instead he nods, jaw ticking in irritation. His hands twitch at his sides, and you know what he wants to do, but clearly isn't sure if he's allowed to right now.
Instead, you approach him, kissing his cheek and gently squeezing his biceps. "It's okay," you assure him. "Just for a little bit."
He nods, body relaxing a little under your touch. "Okay," he says quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Without another word, he turns and leaves your apartment, this time, gently shutting the door behind him.
The second he's gone, all the frustration finally boils over, and you shut your eyes, tears silently falling from your face.
~
You're brushing through your wet hair, resting on the couch in your pajamas and trying to catch up on your favorite TV show before bed when the intercom on your wall buzzes.
Tossing your brush to the couch cushion beside you, you head for the intercom, already having a good idea of who's on the other side. You press the buzzer to open the front door to your building, then head back to the couch to grab your hairbrush and put it back in your bathroom.
You head back to your living room, heading straight for the door once you hear the soft knocks on the wood. When you open it, you find Mat just as you expected, but what you didn't expect was the find him with his face red, puffy, and tears caught in his eyelashes.
When he sees you, his body launches forward, and he wraps you tightly in his arms, bending down a little to bury his face in your neck, and you can feel him sag with relief.
Carefully, you wrap your arms around him, shutting the door and locking it before walking you both backwards a little, bringing him further into your apartment.
You hold each other like that for a little bit, and when you feel Mat's body shake a little as he starts to cry again, you can feel your own tears brimming in your eyes, exhaustion settling in your bones.
Mat hiccups a little bit, and then you feel him press a gentle kiss to the base of your neck before he murmurs "I love you so much."
You tense in his arms.
I love you so much.
I love you so much.
I love you so much.
He'd never said that to you before.
"You don't have to say it back." He says, voice scratchy. "I didn't say it so you'd forgive me, or so that it would make anything better. I just wanted...if this was the last time...I just wanted you to know that I do love you."
"I love you too," you say without hesitation.
His body sags a little more, and he holds you tighter. "You were right, about all of it. I wasn't listening, and I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too," you say. "If I hurt your feelings, or if I made it seem like I wasn't-"
"No," Mat says emphatically. "You have nothing to apologize for. This was all me."
You put your hands on his shoulders gently, pulling back a little bit and frowning slightly when you see his face. He frowns when he sees yours, his hands coming to your face and brushing your tears away with his thumbs.
"I didn't mean to make you sad." He mutters.
You laugh a little, thumbing away his tears too. "I didn't mean to make you sad either. C'mon, let's sit down."
You lead him over to the couch, and instead of sitting like you intended, Mat lays down, pulling you with him until you're pressed against the back of the couch and he's essentially wrapped himself around you.
"You're a whole person," he says once you're both settled. "Relationships should be about adding to one another's lives, not trying to take away from them, and I thought I was doing that, but I wasn't. I was asking for something that wasn't for us, but for me, and I'm sorry."
"I get where you were coming from," you assure him. "And I accept your apology."
A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and Mat's breathing starts to even out as his tears settle. Eventually, the late hour blinks at you from your cable box, and Mat runs a finger along your jawline. "I can go home, if you want."
You shake your head. "You can stay the night, I want you to."
"Are you sure?" He checks.
"Yes," you assure him, starting to sit up and pulling him with you. "I think we've earned ourselves a good night's sleep."
The two of you head into your bathroom to start to get ready for bed, and Mat reaches for your hairbrush while you brush your teeth, running his fingers through it every now and again.
Something in your mirror's reflection catches your eyes, and after you rinse your mouth out and put your toothbrush away, you turn to Mat, tilting your head at him curiously.
"What is it?" He asks, setting your brush down on the counter.
"How about a drawer?" You ask, and Mat blinks at you.
"What do you mean?"
"A drawer," you repeat. "A drawer of your things at my place, and a drawer of my things at yours. It's not moving in, but it's a...a baby step."
Mat's quiet for a second, looking at you almost as if to make sure you're certain about your offer before he say anything. He must decide eventually that you are, because eventually, he nods. "I'd like that."
You hold your hand out to him, and Mat raises a brow at it. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Barzal."
Mat laughs, rolling his eyes before he puts his hand in yours and tugs you to him, pressing his lips to yours.
"I love you so much," he whispers against them.
You smile into his next kiss, winding your arms around his neck. "I love you too."
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crustaceousfaggot · 1 year
Text
So I've been thinking a lot about the setting of Disco Elysium. Specifically it being set in late winter/early spring. It's not something I've really seen anyone else bring up.
I mean, the symbolism seems pretty obvious right? Spring is the time of new beginnings, winter is ending and we're entering a time of potential and rebirth. Definitely nothing new. But I think it goes beyond that.
I live in one of the coldest major cities in the world. Not *the* coldest, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a city with over 1,000,000 inhabitants that gets colder than it gets here. Winters are long and brutal and difficult, and when the soil itself is frozen and covered in a foot of packed snow it's really hard to believe that the world could look any other way.
And don't get me wrong, winter is beautiful. The world is quiet and picturesque. There's none of the usual dirt and debris in the streets because it's all buried under the snow. The way that fresh snow sparkles under street lights at night is one of the most breathtakingly gorgeous things I've ever seen.
It's early April right now, and the snow is melting. It's not all gone, but it's getting there. When the air starts to warm up there's this feeling of excitement and anticipation in the air. Spring is here, and any second now the world will be bursting with new life and beautiful greenery.
But it's not. Not yet.
For about a month and a half after the snow starts to melt, the world is grey. No glittering snow, no budding flowers, no swirling red leaves, just puddles of brown water and lawns of brown grass. It's like winter had ended, but the world has yet to realize that it's supposed to be spring. Until it remembers, we're all trapped in a world where there is no season at all.
Sometimes it snows, but the snow never sticks around. Sometimes it rains, but the rain never brings flowers in its wake.
That last month of winter, that first month of spring, whatever you want to call it, is my least favourite time of year. I heard it described once as "the long-preserved corpse of autumn, finally allowed to rot", and that phrase stuck with me. There are eight month old leaves on the ground, skeletal and bleached grey by a winter trapped under the ice. Without the snow to cover it, you can't ignore just how much we've let our city go to shit. The trees are bare and skeletal, and even the evergreens look washed out and grey when they're not contrasted against the snow. Most of the birds aren't back yet, so the only sound outside my window is the ever-present hum of traffic.
It's impossible to ignore the movement and the sounds of humanity, but at the same time the world has never felt so stagnant.
I think there are all sorts of comparisons you could draw here, some of which hold up better than others. The one that first comes to mind for me is sobriety- the line "Full recovery will take years, though. It’ll be depressing. And it’ll be boring. Don’t expect any further rewards or handclaps." from the "Waste Land Of Reality"o thought is one which really stuck with me on my first playthrough, and one which feels especially appropriate here. But that's just one angle.
How much of this was intentional? I don't know. Probably not most of it. Part of me just wanted to go on a little tangent about the seasonal purgatory I'm trapped in once again. But I genuinely don't think there could be a better time of year to set a game like Disco Elysium. That bleak dusty shoulder season, where all the ugliest and most honest parts of nature and civilization are on display. The time of year where I've gone through the ringer and come out the other side, but everything still looks and feels like shit. It's just a different kind of shit.
Spring isn't here. Not yet. And when it does come, it won't fix anything. There will still be garbage on the ground and pollution in the air, there will still be class inequality and senseless violence and I will still be mentally ill.
But still.
For the first time in months, I can feel the wind against my skin without it hurting.
Whatever that's worth.
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juanarc-thethird · 8 months
Text
She Likes to be Dominated.
In the middle of a small town outside of Vale, a small group of the White Fang members is attacking the establishments surrounding the area.
Person #1: Oh no!
Person #2: They are destroying everything!
Person #3: RUN!
Eve: *On top of a car* Uwahahaha! That's right, humans, fear us! Nothing can stop us! NOTHING!
*WAM!*
One of the White Fang's members goes flying past her.
Eve: What the?!
She looks towards the direction he came from and sees a figure walking towards her. It was a man dressed up like the heroes on children's TV. Showing gold and white as his main colors.
Person #1: Who is that?!
Person #2: Wait... It's The Huntsman!
Person #3: Hooray! We are saved!
Eve: Hehehe, you finally appear hero~ Prepare yourself for an epic battle!
She ran towards him with full speed. Getting close enough she takes a leap, grabbing her sword, readying herself to swing a deadly cut. But, to her surprise, Jau- *Ahem* The Huntsman stretched out his arm and grabbed her by the neck, keeping her above the ground.
Eve: *Ack!*
The Huntsman: You've been here for how long? six months?
Eve: *Grabbing his arm* M-More or less.
The Huntsman: And every time you show up you just come to destroy this little town, nothing more. Right?
Eve: *cough cough* R-Right
The Huntsman: So why the hell are you doing this?! Did this town do something to you?! Because if that's the case, I'm willing to help you so this ends.
Eve: It's nothing like that.
The Huntsman: *Gets on her face a little angry* Then why the fuck do you keep fucking around?
Eve: (God, he's so angry~💕)
The Huntsman: Hey!
Eve: Y-yes?
The Huntsman: Are you listening to me?!
Eve: Y-Yes (Daddy~💕!)
The Huntsman: *Furious* Then focus!
Eve: *Blushing* I-I'm sorry! (Fuck, he's so hot~💕)
The Huntsman: Seriously! What do I have to do to make you stop?
Eve: (Shit! I can hold it anymore. I'm getting so wet~💕) M-Maybe...
The Huntsman: What?
Eve: Maybe I want you to punish me~ (Yes, take me, and do what you want with me~)
The Huntsman: *Confuse* Huh? I already punished you. You have already gone to prison many times.
Unbeknownst to him, Eve moves one of her hands into her own pants and the other to her chest.
Eve: *Getting in the mood* I was thinking of another kind of punishment.💕
The Huntsman: *Surprise* Excuse me?!
Eve: *Feeling very horny* I think a harsher punishing can help me correct my behavior~💕
The Huntsman: *Worry* Um... I don't know
Eve: *Ready for breeding* Please~💕 Please do it~ Please! I can be worse if you don't!
The huntsman looks around and sees how people stared at the two of them.
The Huntsman: If I *Ahem* "punish" you, will you promise not to cause problems again?
Eve: *With a nosebleed and very eager, nods her head really fast* YES!
The Huntsman: O-Ok then
Moments later in a motel
*Plat! Plat! Plat! Plat!*
Eve: Oh fuck! Oh YEs Daddy!~ Breed me!~💕
Jaune: *Holding her by the horns* Can you lower your voice? You're being too loud.
Eve: Make me!~💕
Jaune: Ugh. *Kiss her*
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Eve: HMMM!!!!💕 You taste so good~💕
Jaune: Just shut up.
Jaune then begins to move his hips intensely.
Eve: OH MY GOD YES!!! Fuck me harder! HARDER!!💕 Don't you dare to slow down!!!
Jaune: *Trying to hold on* Oh fuck...
Eve: *Excited* Are you about to cum?!💕
Jaune: Shut it...
Eve: Cum in me! Please, I want it!
Jaune: I said shut it.
He takes her head and pushes her to the bed, leaving only her ass up.
Eve: Yes, fucking use me! I'm your personal onahole!
Jaune: Fuck... Cumming... I'm cumming!!
Eve begins to feel her insides being filled with Jaune's baby graby.
Eve: Oh God yes!~💕 It's so muuuch~
Jaune: Oh fuck...
Eve: H-How Fuck~ are you still cumming?~ I'm going to get pregnant~💕
And the day was saved once again by our great hero, The Huntsman!
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