#This girl needs a hug T_T

[c-kiddo]

(about cr2 rewatch again) i litrally love tmn so much i will frow up. theyre so good. the cast are so good at embodying them. they dont sound like people trying to be characters sm of the time they sound like just (weirdo) real people it makes me crazy !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#theyre so funny . theyre so real . theyre so the girls. #cad and fjords interactions are going to make me explode the admiration. the gentleness. the warm hug of the wildmother through cad #just like. through the way he talks . the comfort . the vulnerability fjord trusts him with (im deeply unwell abt this) #dont even need to say this but man taliesin is such a good actor T_T like soo committed to the bit. jester bought pastries and passed #them around to everyone and immediately he's talking like he's eating the cupcake at the same time as talking #also lol cad being like 'its vry sweet. hmm . hrmrm mrm' #also got to the bit when cad walks around eating fungi garnish off peoples plates <3 his swag #the way in which hes so odd and gentle and joyous and kind but theres that odd little lingering loneliness in there too . whatever. dies. #kiddo say

[auecho]

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY ೀ kafka & blade ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ‘oh girl, don’t hold back - let it out!’

𝓦ARNINGS ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ fem!reader - threesome - drug use - dubcon [themes] - slowburn - ft. jing yuan - overstimulation - blade has a crush on the reader - cunnilingus - reader is a bit of a pushover - roommate!kafka - ex-stepsister!kafka - sexting - cum eating [?] - creampie - asphyxiation && gagging - praise - grinding - making out - spit - dumbification - kafka is . . kafka - masturbation [f. & m.] - orgasm control - squirting - creampie - mating press - everybody is slightly ooc - not proofread - minors & dark content antis do not interact ! ! !

𝓐UTHOR’S 𝓝OTE ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ hihii first full fic ^3^ n first post ! ! so welcome 2 my acc,, m name is echo n i’m pleased to meet u 🫡 eek ‘m so excited, i’ve been sittin n workin on this idea for a while so i hope u enjoy it ! i listened to kiss land by the weeknd writing this and i think it fits rly well sooo >_o this is dark content so viewer discretion advised ! please don’t read if not ur taste T_T im posting this later than expected m soo sry :c reblogs n feedback very appreciated cuz the guidelines r gna get mi < / 3 ! !

𝓔CHOES ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ kiss land , the weeknd - valentina , daniel caesar - fill the void , the weeknd - sdp interlude , travis scott - the worst guys , childish gambino & chance the rapper .

𝓦ORD 𝓒OUNT ֹ ﹒ ୨ৎ 20.7k+

SHE CARRIES A distinct scent with her: cinnamon, champagne…and a twinge of mischief. It flurries in the air and infects your brain like the plague. She had this certain cadence about her: an aura drawn up in a slick figure and even slicker tongue, characterized by a sultry red color. That was Kafka. She's a bombshell, delivering a traumatic shock that you can only hope to forget. You tried to forget — tried to cloud that era of your life to no avail. She kicked down the rock blockade you'd built, welcoming herself into your life again with an impressive amount of effort.

“Elio said she has nowhere to go! She can't stay with him because he moved into a one-bedroom after the divorce! She's about to be couch-hopping at 22 — it’s sad!!” your mother whined. Her emphasis lay on certain words, pathetic tones emanating from the manipulation of her words. You're weak, standing hunched with a backbone made of cotton candy. “But, mom—” “And she begged Elio not to bother us—bother you—but he did it anyway because we’re always family. Family needs each other, family depends on one another.”

She'd pestered a yes out of you, and since the syllable passed through your lips, you've been counting your blessings.

After all, Kafka was an all-devouring curse: blessings were her kryptonite.

Exactly one week later, you bit your nails anxiously and breathed deeply so much so that you got lightheaded. It's been years, she may have changed, you comforted yourself. Your mind worked on its splintering tooth and nail to soothe your wild imagination. Kafka was always going to be Kafka — it was just a matter of whether she developed or if she enabled perversion.

When she engulfed you in a hug you almost passed out smelling her again. Hearing her was another thing, seeing her was even worse. Smelling her — that warm, spicy scent that burns but entices was the pinch to reality you needed. In the flesh, Kafka stood. In all of her menacing glory - ready to flip your world upside down.

“Missed you, little mouse. Ugh, how’ve you been?” you fought the urge to shiver. The nickname and her ever-tickling tone — God, you weren't prepared.

“Good,” is all you muttered. ‘Way better before.’ you wanted to add.

“Mmm, good, I'm glad. I got nervous when Mom said my baby moved out all alone.”

My baby. You could really just…die. She was just as charismatic as before. Possibly even more, given her blatant maturity. You would think it was a play on your age, but truly it was endearment from her: her form of caring for you.

“Who would've thought we’d be living together again? We’re gonna have so much fun!” In the giggle that slipped from her throat, lies mischief. She picks up a box out of the trunk, turning on her heels with the biggest, most Kafka smile ever. She was always…unique in her definitions of fun. One could only imagine the roller coaster you were riding.

When you make your way to your apartment, you just breathe. Breathing is the only thing that can stabilize you. The jumble of nerves that bounce around inside of you relaxes at your exhales. You're not shaking anymore, or feeling your skin heat and clam up, making it easy to lead Kafka into her room.

“Oh, wow. All this space, all alone? You've really grown up, little mouse.” She compliments with a sigh. The box in her hands now sits on the ground. You flush, dusting your hands on your shirt, “Oh, thanks. Mom helps from time to time.” Even though you would much rather have your independence.

She looks around at the space, the room occupied by nothing except a naked bed and an empty dresser. It's an awkward 30-second silence before she breaks it, “Thank you, again. You're really saving my ass,”

And again, you're wrapped in Kafka’s arms, forced to awkwardly pat her back and stare at the wall across from you as if it were to save you. “No problem…again,”

The hug you share births goosebumps on your skin. Her hands glide across the small of your back, nimble fingers dancing lightly across the surface. The tickle is the least of your worries — the blooms of heat that surge in her wake are what blows your eyes wide open. Kafka’s hugs are tight and warm. Almost comforting if it wasn't for the way she ghosted her lips over your ear just right, making you tense. You hate it because it's something you've grown used to. You like it a lot more than you probably should, actively leaning into her touch after a few seconds.

“We should probably get the rest of your boxes…” You mutter. Kafka sighs, pulling off of you slowly. It's almost as if she's savoring the feeling of you in her hands. “I’ll get them. I shouldn't inconvenience you more—”

“—It’s fine. I don't mind helping,” She laughs and squishes your cheeks between her fingers, “You're too cute.” booping your nose for emphasis.

And she couldn't stop saying it. It almost felt condescending the way “You're so cute,” fell from her lips every time you did something. Your out-of-breath huffs or triumphant sighs elicited the remark again and again as you hauled her luggage up to your apartment. You gave up by the last box and stretched out on her floor, and Kafka only laughs harder as she begins to unpack.

“Do you want me to help you?” You groggily breathe out. Moving is exhausting, and you're not even the one moving.

Tucking the sleeves of the shirt as she folds, Kafka shakes her head no with a chuckle. “You can help me by showering. I'll finish up and order some food, ‘kay? Consider it my thanks.”

“But you've already thanked me—” “—And I'm doing it again.” She cuts you off. Your eyes meet and she cracks a smile, “C’mon, up you go. The longer you take, the longer you have to wait to sleep.”

Kafka is someone impossible to argue with. You swipe your tongue over your teeth to fight off a smile…but her gaze is warm. It makes you nervous in the weirdest way, and your lips stretch wide. Defeatedly, you nod, “If you say so.”

ೀ

The sun retired for the night and in an hour, you'd showered, dressed, met Kafka in the living room, caught up with a shot or two slipped in the mix, and dug into the XL pizza she ordered. It was your favorite toppings—you were shocked, to say the least, that she remembered.

“Enough about me,” She grabs hold of the conversation, placing her plate down on the coffee table—and you hide the cringing your face defaults to with a crooked smile and nod. “What about you? How was finishing high school? Starting university? Is Mom still…Mom?”

You awkwardly giggle, placing the plate in your lap. “The answer to the last question is yes. She's never changing, I fear.”

“But…I've been good, really. I keep saying it but it's true; grades are good, friends are good, and Mom is as good as she could get—” more laughter, “—but, yeah. I'm not traveling like you, Kafka. I barely leave my apartment unless it's to go to class. I'm stable, and I'm good. Nothing to tell.”

Kafka eyes you critically as if she's trying to read you. There's nothing to find because as you said, there's nothing to tell. You've always been the stickler goody-two-shoes type: abiding by rules and expectations and never deviating from your white-picket-lined path. It wasn't perfect, and never always good, but it was enough. Enough that you could say with your whole chest that you're okay with being boring…because, well—it’s all you've really known.

She walked into your life as your sister at eleven and walked right back out at fifteen. In four years, you'd been enlightened to a dark side of the world, but you were always too timid. Kafka was a playful cat, ready to paw at her sheepish little mouse until you played back.

Back then, you were too young, and under the palm of your mother to enter rebellion. Now, you're free…somewhat. Kafka was determined to help you spread your wings. She was going to plant the seed in your ear and let it sprout: “It’s your world,” She says. “isn't it about time you live? The way you want to? You're a big girl now — you deserve a story to tell.”

She can tell by the widening of your eyes that the conversation is bordering on too much. “Uhh, I don't know. I'm happy right now—”

“Happiness is temporary. Memories are forever.”

And while she makes a good point…what exactly would you do? How?

Her head tilts and her eyebrow lifts tentatively. She wants to ask how far are you willing to go, but the conversation is far too premature. “It all depends on you, little mouse,” is what she settles on instead. “I’ll be ready to lend a helping hand when you need me.”

The conversation takes a thoughtful pause. Your head seems to fill with thoughts and returning to her now chilled pizza, Kafka pats herself on the back. You're going to spread your wings and flourish, and she prides herself on giving you the route. It's only a matter of time, she thinks. A matter of time before the real fun emerges.

“Oh, by the way,” she interrupts the silence, “do you mind if I have a few friends over tomorrow? They wanna throw me a housewarming party.”

“Um, no, it's fine. My study group is coming over tomorrow after my classes so try maybe before? Or after that—we won't take long.” You miss the deviousness in her smirk.

With a final bite of her pizza, she nods. “Of course.”

ೀ

Jing Yuan is so charming.

He flashes you a Cheshire smile and you find yourself stumbling over your sentences. You palm your face, embarrassed, and let out a shy giggle. His deep chuckle follows and you almost don't want to look at him again.

Fu Xuan kisses her teeth and rolls her eyes. “Lay off the flirting, would you? Can't leave you two alone for a second...”

She joins the pair of you at the end of the courtyard, golden eyes narrowing. There's an awkwardness that creeps up, and you smile nervously while Jing Yuan scratches his neck. He displays a coy smirk that you avoid looking at — opting to rock on your heels and check in the distance for Yukong.

You and Jing Yuan are classmates; friends, even, if he were to agree with that sentiment. Though your crowds don't particularly mix, you find some comfort in one another. Albeit, most of your time is spent tutoring him. It's nice, nonetheless.

You're not opposed to liking him—in fact, you're smitten with him—but you doubt the feeling is mutual. He's Jing Yuan and you're…you.

His question reaches your ears, breaching your train of thought: “Is Yukong still joining us?”

The way he turns to you makes you shy, and you shrug in place of your words. “Umm, ‘dunno. She said so, but something must’ve come up.”

“Well, in any case, let’s just head to yours. She has the address.” Fu Xuan replies exasperatedly. Jing Yuan shrugs, “If that’s okay with you?”

You perk up at his kindness, and Fu Xuan groans, rolling her eyes. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” With your eyes glued to Jing Yuan’s pleased smile, you miss how Fu Xuan mocks you.

“Can we go now?!”

The three of you quickly commute back to your apartment. It's a nice fifteen-minute walk—even nicer when Jing Yuan let you talk his ear off the entire way. Fu Xuan was paces ahead of the two of you, grumbling under her breath about how she should've said no and cursing to Yukong for leaving her with you.

You've been studying together for a while, but you've never brought them over. Your sessions usually take place at the campus library or the local cafe, so to say you're a bit nervous is an understatement.

Not only have they never been over, but you have Kafka. She’s a wildcard and you can only pray that she's on her best behavior.

Your key spins in the hole and you push the door open. Over your shoulder, you mutter, “I think my…sister’s home so she might come and say hi.”

You hope that's the most that she’ll do.

Upon entry, there's a potent, herbal smell floating around the air. It's slightly smoky, and your throat tightens up. You turn around at your guests and cringe at their upturned noses and scrutinizing gazes. “Uhh…”

“Wait right here…um…” you murmur. You don't wait for their responses before speeding toward Kafka’s room.

The stench is stronger in the hallway and her music is even louder. The bass jumps through the floorboards and you doubt she’ll even hear your knocks — but you do it anyway. Knock knock knock.

No response.

You bounce on your heels nervously, peeking out and seeing Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan talking awkwardly by the door. Your nerves overcome you and you hurriedly knock again. “Kafka! I need to talk to you — Kafka!!”

You keep knocking on the door until the music stops and the door swings open. A cloud of smoke hits you immediately and you fall into a coughing fit, waving the smoke out of your face. “Good God…”

“Oh—my bad!” She laughs at you, turning over her shoulder to her friends and sharing the amusement. Her heavy-lidded eyes fall back onto you, and she leans on the door for support. “What do you need, little mouse?”

“Um…” you look over her shoulder and see her guests in her room. A silver-haired girl rests on her bed and types away on her phone, and a black-haired guy sits on the floor - his low eyes on you as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. You didn't know what to expect but you aren't surprised. You're more…uncomfortable. “Um, yeah — my study group is over and it smells like…yeah.”

Her eyes widen and she slaps a hand over her mouth. “That's right now?! Oh, I'm sorry—Silvie and Bladie came over early and I didn't know you’d be back so soon.”

Silvie and Bladie…interesting names.

You nod to her response. “…Yeah…I don't mind you…smoking or whatever but please open a window? It's very strong and it travels and I don't want the landlord to throw a fit.”

“Yeah, of course. Bladie!” She calls out over her shoulder. The guy—Bladie—doesn’t respond, but only perks up. “Crack open the window, yeah?”

And he just…complies. You're almost amazed at how he just listened and pushed the glass open, the cool evening breeze drafting into the bedroom instantly.

Kafka turns around as though it is normal. “There we go,” She giggles.

“Thanks.” You mutter, nodding your head. She winks at you as she shuts the door. You hear her shutting down a remark made by…Silvie and a barrage of laughter.

You make your way to the door where, thankfully, Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan still stand.

“Everything alright?” Jing Yuan asked. He immediately turns to face you, and suddenly your good mood sparks back up. You nod, “Mhm. She has a few friends over too but…I’m sure it won't be too bad.”

You welcome them in, all piling into your living room and crowding around the dining table.

Jing Yuan pulls his laptop out of his bag and sets it on the table. “I did awful on the last test…” he informs, presumably going back to the gradebook. “55%…”

Fu Xuan bursts into laughter. “No wonder you need both of us to help you study! Good lord!!”

You ignore her teasing and pull out your books. “What do you need help with?”

She's quick to cut him off, “Clearly everything if that grade is anything to go by…!”

“Xuan, stop!!”

Her laughter continues, and Jing Yuan waves her off. “The musings of a jealous nobody don't affect me,” and now it's your turn to laugh. “I'm here to get help so I don't mind going through everything. If you're okay with that, of course.”

“It’s fine, yeah—I’m fine with that! Um, let me just get my…” You trail off, sifting through your bundles of papers in your folders. You try to ignore the burn his gaze lays on your skin. He props his head on his fist as he leans on your table and God, does it make you feel special.

Fu Xuan bites back at his remark, “I'm not jealous and I'm definitely not a nobody! Watch your mouth, Jing Yuan!!”

And now it's your turn to internally curse Yukong.

“Here we go!” You pull out the review packets you made yourself — something you pride yourself on. You lay them on the table for him, eliciting a difference in reactions from your guests.

Fu Xuan sees the packets and rolls her eyes, “Only you would make your own review packets.”

And Jing Yuan instead muses at the sight, “No—it’s cool. Resourceful. I like that.”

And I like you, you want to say. You decide to keep that to yourself and only smile in response to play coy.

“This one is from the first couple of lessons, these two were for the quizzes, and the rest are for a few lessons in between.” You inform, pointing at each packet. “I also have some flashcards and some annotations; let me find them…”

“Look, all you need to do is read the textbooks. All the information is in there.” Fu Xuan argues, taking one of your packets for herself and flipping through it. “Do you read, Jing Yuan?”

“I read, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, so do I — but that doesn't help everyone, Xuan.” You snatch the packet out of her hand, laying it on the table. “But whatever. Do you think this will help you?”

Jing Yuan nods, gratefully. He takes a packet for himself, flipping through it. “You mind showing me how you use them?”

And with a flustered smile, you nod, immediately scooting closer to direct him.

You show Yuan your method: using his notebook to write down what he remembers, going back and adding things he didn't remember, and working out everything in between with what's in the packet. Your mother taught you the method during your eighth-grade year after your grades slipped and since then, you've sworn by it.

Fu Xuan uses this time to tease and ridicule him, occasionally aiding with her…aggressive technique whenever he stumbles over a particular concept.

You share some laughs and rambles along the way, and you’re given a side of Jing Yuan you never thought you’d get. He's surprisingly easy to talk to, and you don't know if he's actually that funny or if you're just that into him — but either way, you enjoy it. He makes your cheeks hot and your smile wider.

He’s always been your campus crush — but he’s everybody’s. You're not special but the way he's looking at you makes you feel as such. You hope that maybe he’ll ask you to tutor him again and maybe it’ll just be the two of you. Without Fu Xuan’s teasing and complaints.

After about an hour, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s focused and his attentiveness leaves you and Fu Xuan the time to talk.

You drown out her complaints about the sorority not allowing her in to focus on the presence of Kafka’s friend in your kitchen. She stands on her tippy-toes to rummage through your cabinets, groaning and slamming her palms on the countertop. “Uhh…do you need something?”

The girl turns around, “Food! Where the hell are all of your snacks?!”

“Um…” You don't get to respond. She stomps into your living room, shoving her hand into the bag of pretzels Fu Xuan brought. “Excuse me!!!”

She shoves the handful in her mouth, crunching obnoxiously. “Those are so fucking dry…” She complains, turning back into your kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.

Your last Kombucha is taken, popped open, and gulped down right before your eyes. You were going to drink that.

With an unabashed burp, the girl sets the bottle down and turns to you. “Hey, little mouse!”

“That's not my name—”

“Can you order some food, please? I feel like I'm being fucking punished.” And she continues to ramble, “Was I a bad girl? Do bad girls not get to eat?” And she falls into a fit of laughter.

You're uncomfortable. You know Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan must be too. This is just awkward, and embarrassing on your behalf.

“Can you get some pizza? Ooh, no, better yet, chili oil beef stew. Do they deliver that?” No. The answer is no. “Hold on, I’ll get the money.”

She scurries back into Kafka’s room with a heavy slam of the door. The three of you turn to each other, and you nervously laugh. How embarrassing.

“Is that your sister?” Jing Yuan asks. Oh God, he probably feels so uncomfortable.

“No! That's her friend…sorry about that.”

“She needs to pay me for a new bag of pretzels! I don't know where her hands have been and I'm definitely not eating that.” Fu Xuan huffs, crossing her arms and crumpling up the bag. You laugh at how she lightens the mood, but turn your gaze to Jing Yuan who's now focused back on his work. Great. You blew it.

Out comes Kafka’s friend, stomping toward you and shoving some bills into your chest. “Here you go! Keep the change,”

You don't want her change. But you don't protest — instead, you call up Delicacy Pavillion. “Hi, can I place an order?”

ೀ

The walk back to your apartment from Delicacy Pavillion feels like a walk of shame. You're even more ashamed because Jing Yuan decided to tag along and Fu Xuan decided to take her cue and leave. Now you're alone. With him. In the middle of the evening. Picking up delicious food for your ex-step-sister and her friends.

He offered to walk with you—“I don't mind. Besides, what kind of guy would I be if I let a pretty girl like you go out all by yourself?” You're not strong enough to deny his flattery, and so here you are.

Now that Xuan is gone, you don't know what to talk to him about. Or how to talk to him. You opt to keep your mum, humming a song you’d heard in passing lowly to yourself. Five minutes away and this day will finally be over.

“Are you and your sister close?” He breaks the silence.

You turn to him, “Ah, well — she’s not really my sister. Our parents were married for a while but they divorced now. A while ago, actually. We aren't close but…yeah.”

“Interesting…” He comments. “Yeah…”

“I don't mean interesting in a bad way—I’m interested…in you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“You're interested…in me?” Your heart is practically jumping out of your chest. You can't hide the flattered smile that curls your lips.

He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets and throwing his head back. “Ha, yeah. Of course — how couldn't I be? You're sweet, very smart…” He turns to look at you. Your eyes lock, “…very cute, too.”

It's like he wants you dead.

You immediately avert your gaze, nudging him in the side. “You're just messing with me.”

“If that's what you believe.” He shrugs, a playful grin resting on his face.

Now you don't know what to believe. But you're going to choose to believe that he means it.

“I'm interested in you too.” You sweetly proclaim, unable to wipe the big grin off of your face. His cheeks flush a pretty rose color, and his smile turns coy. The quiet you two fall into is much more comfortable and much lighter, and now you wish that your time with him won't end.

The pair of you make it to your apartment building, and when you stand in the elevator, you avoid his gaze. He watches you through the reflection of the elevator doors, and his smirk grows as he watches you try not to look at him.

He takes a step closer to you and when his hand swings your fingers brush and you almost drop the bag full of food. He knows how to make you flustered and how to make you smiley.

“Cute,” He mutters. He's not the only one who thinks that.

Jing Yuan does the gentlemanly thing and walks you to your door. As soon as you fish your keys out of your pocket, he pulls you into a hug. His arms are big and muscular and so warm — you immediately hug him back and wrap your arms around his waist.

“See you,” He says, rubbing the small of your back. You timidly respond, “See you.”

The smile on your face is prominent even as he walks away. Even as you walk into your apartment, coming face to face with a ruckus you never thought you’d have the displeasure of walking into.

Kafka and her guy friend are planted on the couch, the strong smoke smell clearly following them into the living room. And the girl…she lay on the floor still swiping away — but as soon as you closed the door behind you, she hopped up. “Yes—fucking finally!”

She bolts over to you and steals the bag out of your hand, “Thank fuck!! I'm so damn hungry!!!”

Kafka gets up, her guy friend immediately following. She smiles at you, coming to wrap you in a hug. “Ohhh, thank you, babe.” And she plants a firm kiss on your cheek. You feel the stain of her lipgloss on your skin, and cringe at it, only nodding and smiling as if to say “You're welcome.”

“I’m going to shower and go to bed…so uh, can you keep it down some?” You say, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

They barely hear you and focus on digging into their food. With a defeated sigh, you stalk away.

And with your back turned, the strict gaze on your disappearing frame is missed.

He’ll see you again, though.

ೀ

“I want you to formally meet my friends,” Not even a greeting as you entered the door. A hi, hello, or how was your day? would have been nice.

“Hello to you too, Kafka.” You quip, taking off your shoes and stretching your aching toes.

“Hi, little mouse,” she sarcastically chirps. She places her drink on the coffee table and you try to ignore the lack of a coaster - instead bracing yourself for the embrace she pulls you in. “Mm, you seem tense; your day went okay?”

You nod. Not quite, is the answer you hold on your tongue, swallowing it down and hiding a grimace beneath your smile.

Jing Yuan hadn't spoken to you all day. He didn't even look at you — his attention was focused on Tingyun. Pretty, brown-haired Tingyun with the charming smile and warmest aura…she’s now your competition, and from what you saw today, she’s leagues ahead of you. Hanging off of his arm like it's her lifeline and encapsulating his gaze in the palm of her hand. You almost stormed out of the lecture when her hands brushed his cheeks, her thumb swiping over his beauty mark.

He's just trying to make you jealous. That thought was supposed to comfort you but it made you even more upset. As soon as your professor shut his mouth you were out of there, leaving dust in your wake as you sped toward the library.

You needed to decompress and distract yourself. You were buried in a book when a touch you remembered too well landed on your shoulder. “I was looking for you.” He says.

Looking for me my ass, you think. But the sentiment warms you, nonetheless, and a smile pulls across your lips. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” The tone of his voice makes you want to rip the hair off of your scalp. He's so sweetly condescending, so sultry and you can just get lost in his melody. He's like Kafka that way—wait. Nevermind…

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?” The suddenness of his question has you jostled, and the substance of the question has you flustered. Jing Yuan wants to take you out???

You're mad at him, though. He can just take Tingyun for all you ca—“Of course—er, I mean, sure. Why not?”

Fuck.

He chuckles at your stumbling, burying his hands in his pockets. His forearms scream at you as they clearly come into your line of sight — the image to be cherished and forever forefronted in your memory. Why is every part of him so attractive? “Great. I’ll text you later.”

And he squeezes your shoulder as he walks in the opposite direction. Fucking hell.

You're just pissed off. At yourself, at Tingyun, at Jing Yuan — you hate that he made you giddy and excited and you couldn't stop smiling to yourself even as you walked home alone.

He asked you, not Tingyun. Surely, if he wanted her, he’d be taking her out tomorrow, not you.

“So, tomorrow at…5? Is that cool?”

What? “Huh? Sorry,”

Kafka sighs, “I want you to meet my friends. It’ll be like…totally chill and just cool so don't freak out and think some type of formal meet-the-parents shit.”

“Is tomorrow at 5 good for you?” You’d be wrong if you said no. Kafka is trying. “Yeah, um, I guess,”

“Yay! This wasn't my idea, by the way — they want to meet you,” They do? “Really?”

She walks back over to the couch and plops down, downing a gulp of her pink Monster Energy. “Mhm. Silver wants to know how we could ever be sisters, and Bladie…” She takes a pause, having a short laugh to herself, “Let’s just say he’s taken a liking to you.”

You're confused by her statement but you don't press further. You're not sure you want to know.

“Um…I’m going out tomorrow, so,” “We won’t keep you long,” She shrugs.

Your subtly doesn’t work well—you mean to decline the offer. “Okay then,”

You begin to awkwardly walk to your bedroom, Kafka’s voice following you down the hall. “Hey, are you hungry?”

“I’m good.” You answer back. As good as you could be.

┄┄

With the nth layer of lip gloss slathered across your lips, you break into a smile at your reflection.

You’re pretty.

All dolled up: not a single fly-away or stray, cheek-housed eyelash, flawless base, and a perfectly ironed outfit describe your appearance. You spent the better half of your afternoon in the bathroom shaving, plucking, exfoliating, and giggling to yourself about your date with Jing Yuan.

You’ve never looked better. You don't think you’ve smiled this much in your life.

“You look so pretty, babe!” Yukong chimes. Her eyes gleam over the pixelated image on your phone. “So, what type of date is it? …It is a date, right?”

“Well, he didn't say it was a date—but he asked to take me out. What does that mean if not a date?” It's all semantics. Date schmate; at the end of the day it's you and him together. Alone. “He didn't…discuss the details. All I know is that he’s coming at 5:30 to get me.”

Interesting…

“It’s kinda…sexy. Like ooh, surprise me.” You add, giggling.

Right…

“If you say so…” Yukong sighs out. You laugh, missing the sarcasm thick in her tone.

“Well, anyway, I should get going.” You check the time: the digital numbers read 5:05. You're early, but, hey— better safe than sorry. “Call you later, love you!”

Yukong smiles and throws up a peace sign and ends the Facetime.

The hefty laughter from the other side of your door bulldozes through your silence, reminding you. Damn it.

Another small smile in the mirror and you get up from your vanity. You grab your clutch and walk out and into an atmosphere of laughter and…blueberries?

You wave the scent out of your face, and as if it were perfectly timed, the chatter died down and heads turned to you. Your hand fell to your side and you immediately made eye contact with her.

“Ohh, little mouse!!!” Kafka squeals, dragging out the nickname sing-songily. She skips to you, a hand nudging your shoulder. “Look at you!! Look at her guys!” She turns to her friends, grinning wide.

The pair raise their heads, faces morphing in opposite ways of one another in response. The silver-haired girl takes a brief puff from her seemingly blueberry-scented e-cigarette, “Woww, would you look at that?”

She turns to the guy beside her with an escaping smile, “You clean up nice, little mouse.” She compliments.

You cringe at the nickname leaving her lips, nodding. “Thanks…”

“What do you think, Bladie?” Kafka calls out, one arm pulling you close to her and the other swiping down in a showcasing movement. He perks up instantly and looks completely uncomfortable. He avoids looking into your eyes at all costs.

You feel bad. You tuck your clutch under your arm and raise your hands in defense, “No, no, it's okay. Kafka…you shouldn't…”

“Nope—it’s only right I tease you like this,” She rebuts. Her grin shortens to a smirk and her hand squeezes your arm, pulling you closer. “Mom’s not here; somebody’s gotta be the one to nag,”

It's a good thing your mother is not here. You moved out to get away from her. You only awkwardly laugh in response, shooting an awkwardly apologetic face toward Bladie.

“Uh…pretty,” He comments. “You look nice.”

It's only now that you realize you haven't heard his voice yet. And, woah. Wow.

“U-um, thank you. Ha…” You stumble out, growing flustered at your stuttering.

Kafka laughs, sending a look towards him that you miss. “Anyway,” she diverts, “these are my two companions: Silver and Blade.” She points at the pair respectively and they each emote.

“The two most important people in my life. After you, of course,” She informs, fingers nipping at the fat of your cheek teasingly. “What about Elio?”

She shrugs. “Oh, yeah. Him too,” and she and Silver burst into laughter.

Kafka introduces you to them after the laughter dies down, making sure to include “My little sister,”

“Ex-step-sister-now-roommate,” you correct. Silver chortles at your sass and Kafka sends you a narrowed stare. “You're right. My favorite ex-step-sister-now-roommate: my little mouse,”

“Wait, you mean to tell me you have other ex-step-sisters-now-roommates?” Silver jokes, laughing at her own joke. She slaps Blade on his arm to urge him to laugh along — to which he maintains his rigid posture and awkwardly avoids the scene.

Kafka walks the pair of you into the room, toward the couch opposite Silver and Blade. You sense an immediate switch; almost as if you’d changed realities. The air was suffocating in a way you couldn't understand. It was something deeper than awkwardness, something less juvenile than embarrassment. It was palpable: it hurt to swallow when you gulped nervously.

Silver blows another cloud of smoke toward your face, and when the fog dissipates you're met with the mischief on her face, “Sooo,” she drags, “what do you do for a living? This is a nice apartment you got,”

Small talk. You can do small talk. “Um, thanks! I mostly do tutoring and babysitting. But sometimes my mom helps out.”

Her face crinkles up in confusion. “Tutoring pays for all this???”

You laugh, “You’d be surprised at how much people are willing to pay for good grades. I mainly work with middle schoolers who aren't doing too well and their parents are so desperate. They’ll pay just about anything.” You slightly exaggerate the circumstances of your job. There's only one kid you tutor regularly and you've already begun discounting him because of his relation to Jing Yuan. It's a good thing Kafka moved in — the rent was beginning to look a bit dangerous.

“Ohh, interesting. What a hustler,” Silver jokes. Kafka laughs right alongside her, nudging your side with her elbow. “Fitting right in with us.”

The group bursts into a fit of laughter — even Blade spits out a few chuckles — and all you can do is awkwardly laugh along. You feel like a sore thumb: dolled up in your pretty blue outfit while your roommate and her friends are dressed in sweats and assortments of band tees. They laugh at a joke you don't quite understand and share glances that speak an entirely different language from you.

You want the time to speed up. You're waiting for Jing Yuan to save you from this awkward tension like the knight in shining armor he is and whisk you off to the date he planned.

Getting out of here would be so nice. You won't have to hear them poke and prod and tease and you wouldn't be scared to look left. Blade’s gaze is so intense. Goosebumps have risen on your skin from the sheer atmosphere it induces — is he doing this on purpose? He has to be. Kafka must have put him up to it.

It eases you to think that she’s just being herself: her playful, mischievous, dangerous self. In a week she’ll get bored, they’ll stop messing with you, and they’ll find something else to do. That's the way it's always been with Kafka and it helps you to relax.

But it's his stare. The way his eyes shyly rake you up and down again and again. He drinks in the sight of you and doesn't react — he’s committing you to memory and every time he takes a reprieve, his eyes thirst for more and wander right back to you. Kafka notices it. Silver notices it. You notice it. Everybody but Blade can see the way he looks at you: as though he could eat you whole.

He watches your face light up when your phone buzzes and you pull it out of your clutch. Thank the heavens; it’s Jing Yuan.

‘be there in 10. ;)’ He texts. ‘okayyyy <3 see you!’ You text back. Too flirty? Too excited? Oh, God. He hearts your message and your smile grows wider.

Blade wants to say how he wants to be the one to make you smile like that, but it's too early for that. He’ll opt for admiring you, instead, thinking to himself about how pretty you look grinning so wide and how pretty you probably look with his c—

Knock knock knock. That was fast.

You nearly jump off of the couch to answer the door, skirt flaring in the air as you skip to the door. Kafka watches with amusement thick on her face. You're so cute, a guy like Jing Yuan doesn't deserve you.

The door swings open and there he stands. His hair is pushed into a high ponytail and he’s clad in a simple outfit—but God, does he make it look good. “Hey there, pretty girl.”

His greeting awakens butterflies in your stomach. “Hi…” You reply shyly. He smiles at your nervousness and holds his hand out for you to grab, “You ready to go?” You nod almost immediately.

Before Kafka can open her mouth and trap the two of you there, you announce your departure and leave with a wave, slamming the door behind you. The group all share looks, and her smile can't help but get wider. “She’s so cute,”

“Wouldn't you agree, Blade?” Silver teases. Growing embarrassed, he lowers his head. “Oh my God!” She laughs, hitting the couch cushion. “You totally wanna fuck her!”

Blade doesn't respond. Silver turns to Kafka mouth wide, eyes blown, “He wants to fuck your sister, Kaf!” Don't we all?

Kafka sits in between her two friends, placing a warm hand on Blade’s shoulder. He immediately relaxes but keeps his gaze tied to the ground. “It’s okay, Bladie,”

“It happens to the best of us.”

┄┄

“I’m not going to lie,” Jing Yuan breaks the silence, “I didn't have a clue on what to plan. I just knew I wanted to see you again.”

His flattery is out of this world. He has you feeling so special, so wanted—you turn to look at him and just stare in disbelief. The Jing Yuan is driving you in his nice-ass BMW to a date that he asked you out on. Lucky girl syndrome is so real. “It’s okay, I’m not picky.”

“I like that.” He laughs out. “I like you.” His right hand abandons the steering wheel, traveling to your exposed thigh. His touch is light, tempting. He’s testing the waters, and only does he let his hand rest wholly on your thigh when your breath hitches but you don't stop him. He spares you a glance, a smirk drawn on his face when you briefly lock eyes.

“I think you said that before,” You lighten the mood. Your words sound breathless, clambering out of your throat nervously. “Oh, have I?” His hand creeps upward, now sheathing itself beneath your skirt. His fingers tap on your thighs — he’s teasing, waiting for a reaction.

You hum in response, now gluing your eyes to the dashboard because if you look down, you're going to explode.

“Guess I really have to let you know, then.”

“Guess so,” You respond. His hand only lies on your leg, not traveling any further. He pulls into the parking lot of the movie theater. Not your idea of the perfect first date, but maybe he has more planned.

You get out, immediately locking hands and walking side by side into the theater. He opens the door for you, leads you to the ticket stand, and the hold on your hand never falters. He uses it to pull you closer, letting his arm drape around your waist and his fingers tap along your skin. He’s setting you ablaze, burning you with every gesture he does.

You don't even care about the movie—Sky-Faring Commission 8, you think—you’re too focused on Jing Yuan. He drapes you in his jacket and wraps his arm around your shoulder when you get seated. He whispers a joke to you about the previews and laughs into your hair to not disturb others around you. And when the movie gets to a particularly boring part, he finds himself leaning on your shoulder.

His lips are featherlight as he ghosts over your skin. You act as though you don't feel it — gluing your eyes to the movie screen. You couldn't care less about the melodramatic climax on the screen. It didn't matter to you, it didn't register in your mind as important. He was so close, breathing in your sweet perfume and brushing his lips against your skin when he smiled. Oh God, you subconsciously lean towards him, letting out a sigh when puckered lips connect with your neck.

He places another kiss, and then another - readjusting his position to lead a trail upwards. The kisses grow larger distances as he eagerly travels to your lips. His hand reaches over and grabs the side of your face. You couldn't turn to look at him on your own: filled with too much anxiety and nerves to bear the connection.

Your eyes lock - a desire in his juxtaposing with the shyness in yours. He needed you, leaning in swiftly and collecting a kiss.

His tongue abrasively weaves its way into your mouth, sloppily licking around and tangling with yours. He was so powerful: overwhelming and all-consuming. You could only sit there weakly, trying your best to keep up with him.

Yuan is no dummy. He can tell you're not all into it. You sit rigidly and lack any eagerness to kiss him back.

“You nervous?” He whispers against your lips. His hand on your face slips down to your waist with a comforting squeeze in tow. You crack a smile nervously, “Never done this before. Well, like, in this way…”

He's quick to recover from the twinge of annoyance that surges within him. “‘Ts okay. I got you,”

He leans in, hand slipping to your thigh. It's almost cinematic — the movie flickers in deep reds and blacks as an action sequence plays and your silhouettes form on the wall behind you. He's so close, so tempting that you can't help but take in his words. “I’ll take care of you.” He says. And you fall for it.

And he kisses you even slower, more sultry. There's an enthusiastic flame in his kiss — he just wants you to give it up. Let him take you, let him have you. It's not like you don't want it.

As he kisses go deeper, hungrier with teeth sinking into your lip and lips sucking around your tongue, his hand slinks up your skirt. He plays with the band of your panties, feeling the soft material. His fingers roll and entangle in the fabric, feeling the slight jolt of your hips when his touch caresses your skin.

He shoves his tongue down your throat to keep you silent, pushing his hand further onward and cupping your cunt.

Your thighs immediately crush around his wrist. He’s trapped in your heat, feeling the throb of your clit against him. He bites your bottom lip with a smile as he presses his palm flat against you. The applied pressure to your clit has the bud stiffening.

God, you want him. You want him so bad.

You have to stop yourself from moaning and squirming. You’ll literally die if you get caught.

“I want you so bad, baby,” he whispers, pulling away. He kisses your jawline and rubs his hand against your pussy. The feeling is beyond mutual, you think. You can't do this, though. Not here.

You hum in response to him, fearing that any other response may be too loud. Feeling a premature knot gnarl in your stomach makes you panic and grab his arm. You can't cum yet—and definitely not here.

“Too much?” He laughs against your lips. He tries to sink his arm deeper between your thighs and your hips run away. “‘M sorry. How about we get outta here?

Locking eyes with him has you shyly saying yes. You don't have sex on the first date—Jing Yuan or not.

But your body seems to crave him. To want him and in this circumstance, you can be able to bend your rules. “Okay,”

You quickly exit the theater hand in hand with an unimportant amount of time left in the movie. There was a strange feeling swarming in your gut: akin to a thrill with a tickle of unsureness. You chalk it up to butterflies. It's just nervousness because the dream you've held onto ever since you first laid eyes on him is coming to fruition. You've always wanted Jing Yuan. You always wanted to be his.

He drives the car shortly to the parking lot of a shut-down arcade, parking his car and immediately clambering to the backseat with you. It was like he couldn't wait - like he was going to die without you. It's hot.

His hands immediately grab your hips and his lips overtake yours. He slowly lays you against the leather seats, wasting no time. He's making quick and agile movements: hands slipping under your shirt and cupping your breasts and lips wrapping around nips of skin.

You gasp, arching your back into him. “You're so sexy,” He moans, fondling you messily, needily.

“T-thank you…” You stutter out.

He kisses down to the neckline of your shirt, pushing the fabric up and going under to kiss around your chest. His lips replace his hands, the latter rehoming on your thighs and pushing your skirt up. His lips attach and suck around the top of your boob as his hands pry your legs apart, fingers dancing up toward your core.

You moan out softly. His tongue swipes across your flesh and his middle finger walks through your slit. “You’re so wet,” he comments, pressing your clit down with intense pressure.

A weak whimper dances from your lips and he laughs contently.

He continues to rub your clit while kissing your skin, turning your flames up so high that your body burns to the touch. A sticky sound resonates off of the interior of the car, sloshing grossly as your airy moans attempt to compete with it. Your pussy drips, your hole spasming as he teases you further and further.

You never thought you’d be in Jing Yuan’s backseat about to get finger fucked—and as much as you want to, you just - you can't.

His finger circles your entrance, ever so teasingly and you tense up. You pull away almost immediately, snapping your legs tightly shut and beginning to sit up. “Sorry, I’m sorry,”

Yuan takes a seat opposite from you, brushing his fallen hair out of his face with a huff. He gives you time to adjust your clothes, staring out of the front windshield. He looks…bummed, dissatisfied and you feel terrible. “Trust me, it's not a you thing. I just…I dunno. I'm not comfortable with what I don't know,”

“Nah, it's good. You're good.” He sends you a short smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

And you don't want to worry about it, but you can't not. There's an obvious tent in his pants and a frustration hidden beneath his appearance — you blue-balled him beyond measure and made it awkward. He’s probably never asking you out again.

In an attempt to ease the tension, you offer an alternative: “Wanna get something to eat? My treat.”

Taking a look at you breaks a smile on his face, and he nods. “Why not?”

┄┄

The date could have gone worse.

That's what you tell yourself as you ride the elevator up to your apartment, alone.

He had to go, he told you. “Text me before you go to bed, alright?” And that made you feel better, somewhat. He could have told you to delete his number and never go anywhere with him again, so you count this as a win.

You can't shake the tension, though. It's better than whatever the hell you, Kafka, and her friends had floating around, however, it's just as uncomfortable. The elephant in the room is humongous, but neither of you dare step on its toes. You don't blame him for feeling some type of way, but he shouldn't blame you either, right?

“Welcome back! How was your date?” Kafka questions as you walk in the door. Silver and Blade are still here, the latter on his phone and the former focusing on her strawberry crunch ice cream bar. You wave at Kafka, removing your shoes and remembering you still have Yuan’s jacket. You won't leave it out for it to get dirty with the Three Musketeers running around your apartment.

“It was good,” you reveal softly. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. I’m really tired so I’m just gonna go shower and go to bed.”

Kafka nods, waving you off, “Alright; good night, little mouse!”

You get into your bedroom and don't even think twice. Your clothes are stripped off and strewn across your floor but you make sure to place Yuan’s jacket on your vanity. Your hair goes up and your body wraps in your towel, a quick commute to the bathroom across the hall to wash today off of your body.

Warm water splashes over your skin, soapy clouds run down your body as you scrub. You still feel embarrassed — the scene of you quitting on Yuan replays every time you close your eyes. You're mad at yourself because you know you want him, you always have, and you fumbled your opportunity badly. It's embarrassing for you and him. You fear it's an event you can never forget.

Twenty minutes of pouring the stress and dirt and Jing Yuan down the drain and you're finally ready to sleep. Body clean, pajamas on, makeup off, and skin care on, you climb into bed and immediately grab your phone.

‘just heading to bed c:’ You text. You twiddle your thumbs for half a second before you start typing again: ‘i did enjoy our date today btw…hope u don’t get the wrong impression cause i’d love to go out w u again <3’

That’s good. He knows how you feel, you've said your peace and lifted the weight off of your chest. You turn your phone off and rollover. Off to dreamland you go—

Ding!

Your eyes shoot open. Ding! And now you're rolling back over, grabbing your phone, and squinting at the initial brightness.

‘don’t worry abt it haha’ He texts back. ‘it’s my fault, I should’ve asked’

Your fingers press and heart his message, quick to move to the keyboard and begin typing. But before you finish, another text from him rolls in: ‘i’m glad you enjoyed it. it’d be my honor to take you out again’

You silently cheer, kicking your feet under your duvet. ‘i’ll be holding u to that’

no need already planning our next one

whatre u thinking?

that takes the fun out of it if i tell you dw i won’t make you wait long

He's flirting. You're flirting. Even through text, he has you running in circles looking for a response. What do you say? What do you say?!!

good c; don't wanna wait to see u again

‘me neither’ He starts typing, then stops. Is it over already?

The typing bubble pops up again, and in seconds, his blue message fills your eyes: ‘u mind sending a pic?’

Suspicion doesn't address you—instead a feeling of confusion. Where is this conversation going…?

im in my pajamas lol so not sexy

doesn't have to be, you make something sexy plus the kind of pjs a girl wears tells you all abt her

does it?

mhm

Damn it. You crawl out of bed, turn your lamp on, and step in front of your full-length mirror. A loose-fitting shirt and small house shorts. Nothing extravagant or appealing — just extremely comfortable.

Five attempts at a flattering mirror selfie later, you finally land a picture that satisfies you enough. Immediately to Jing Yuan, it goes, paired with the message ‘what do mine say about me?’

You sit back on your bed, criss–cross applesauce as you wait for his response. Three minutes later he likes your message, ‘says you're cute’

that’s it?

He responds quickly. ‘not sure if you wanna take it there haha’

You're not sure either. ‘try me’

It takes him a minute to start typing again — presumably needing to take the time to make a conscious decision before he embarrasses himself…again.

‘Attachment: 1 Image’ You immediately click on the image, zooming in only to be met with his bulge. Black boxers stretched around a fat tent in his pants with his big hand resting on top of his lap.

His next message comes in seconds later, ‘says you drive me crazy and need me there to make you feel good’

And the next one…‘it's hard for me to control myself lol’

i just get so turned on by you

Oh. He's taking it there.

‘me too’ You have to send the text with your head facing the other direction, nearly jumping out of your skin with the confirmation swoosh sound.

‘i don't usually get that wet btw…’ You inform. It's a bit of a half-truth; you haven't slept with that many people to gauge how wet you can truly get but you're almost positive you've never soiled your panties like you have today.

He hearts your message and immediately starts typing.

oh rly? what abt now? still wet?’

If the way your thighs are pressing together is anything to go by, the answer is a very enthusiastic yes.

yeah want u so bad

You don't sext — you've never done it before and you are awful with your words. You're nervous despite the wave of boldness that's overcoming you. This is escalating fast, bordering territory you've never crossed.

You should've just gone to bed and texted him the following morning. You should have kept it innocent and not pushed him further. You've opened a can of worms and now it's time to reap the consequences. Fuck.

let me see

Double fuck. Maybe triple. Possibly quadruple.

How the hell are you supposed to show him???

You immediately hop up and move your mirror, repositioning it to stand parallel to your bed. Should you turn the light off? Maybe you should.

You jump onto the bed in the darkness, slithering off your shorts slowly, giving yourself time to stop and preserve your dignity. God, you can't believe you're doing this, you think, setting yourself in the most awkward position to show the wet spot painted on your fresh pink panties.

Flash on and legs in the air, the camera shutters three times. If you weren't embarrassed before, you definitely are now.

You send two of the three photos, tossing your phone into your pillows.

The ding is still audible, followed by two more that make your heart jump.

shit you're so hot baby Attachment: 1 Video

A shaky thumb presses play on the video, immediately adjusting the volume when wispy curses spill from the device. The video shows his unclothed abdomen and his hand in his boxers, rubbing his dick slowly.

You watch with peeled eyes how his stomach rises and falls, abs gnarling as he bucks into his own hand. Twelve-second video. It's a twelve-second video and it seemed to last for an hour.

He sends more texts:

wish it was you are you touching yourself?

No.

yeah doesn't feel as good as when u did it, tho

You ignore the way your cunt clenches around the air and your panties grow increasingly uncomfortable with the slick pooling and seeping.

pretend it is me Attachment: 1 Voice Message

Oh fuck. You lay down, bringing the phone to your ear and dancing your fingers across your stomach in hopes of soothing your nerves. This is a lot. This is probably worse than letting him feel you up and almost finger you in his car.

“‘M gonna help you feel good, okay?” He starts the voice message. You nod as if he can see you, and close your eyes to take in the full experience.

“Start rubbing your clit—go slowly, tight circles, okay,” he pauses, presumably to let you complete the action. The quiet is filled with an airy gasp from you, sensitivity extremely prevalent between your legs. You part your folds and hear how sticky it is, and it's even worse when you let your finger slip in between your labia and press your clit. You moan so loudly you have to bite your lip.

With your thighs instinctively closing on your wrist you roll to your side, burying your face in the pillow as you start to do as he says: slow, tight circles around your sensitive bud. You can hear him spit—presumably in his hand—and faint slick sounds in the background. He starts speaking, overpowering the background noise, “Feels good, huh?”

“Keep doing that, okay? Keep going until you're about to cum—” He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath, “—fuuuck, baby. I want to fuck you so bad; bet you sound so pretty when you moan…”

He just turns you on more, leaving you to whimper and further push your face into your pillow, attempting to quiet yourself.

It's been a while since you've had any sexual time — oftentimes too tired or uninterested in tending to your needs even though your body screams at you for a release. You're overly sensitive, clit throbbing angrily and hole spasming thirstily. You need to feel good, to reach nirvana — you needed to let Yuan fuck you and satiate the thirst.

He sounds so good talking to you, moaning for you, working you up to your climax, “Put a finger in, baby. I wanna hear you, too,”

You're just horny at this point. You almost waste no time in recording a voice memo, pushing your middle finger into your cunt with a breathy whine, “Oh, God,”

You start at a slow rhythm, really edging yourself. You huff and whine and whimper all into the speaker, letting him hear every voice crack and deep breath. It feels so good, but it's not enough.

“I wanna be filled,” you manage to say. “‘S not enough…need you, Yuanie.”

Send.

You stop your ministrations as you wait for him to respond, letting yourself come down from the impending climax.

Ding!

fuck

Is all he sends, and then your phone starts ringing. Your reflection in the FaceTime camera has you adjusting your position and putting the phone in a flattering angle, answering the phone with knitted eyebrows and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. What a performer you are.

When the call connects you're met with his dick. His hand traverses the length eagerly, an angry tip leaking milky white down the shaft and glistening as he jerks himself off. You see him behind his big cock: hair disheveled and face red.

“Let me see your pussy,” his voice is gritty, deeper than usual. His tone is almost demanding—you clearly don't have the luxury of being shy at the moment.

You lower the camera slowly, pushing your panties to the side and letting the radiance of your phone screen show the glistening mess to him. “Oh fuck,” he comments, throwing his head back.

“So pretty, so perfect. I bet you're tight as fuck,” You decide to show him: slipping your index finger in first with a sweet moan, then following up with your middle finger after a few pumps.

You're definitely fuller, but it's not enough.

Your cunt squeezes around your fingers tightly, spilling out a waterfall of arousal. Your ministrations are easy with how wet you are: fingers slipping in and out with little to no resistance, just narrowly missing your sweet spot.

It gets harder to hold back your moans—sounds now coming out as broken cries as you bite intensely on your lip. “I wanna cum,” you sniffle.

“Yeah? Cum for me—show me how that pussy creams,” So obscene but so, so incredibly hot.

Your hips buck into your hands and your hold on your phone gets weak. You have to change position: set the device up between your pillows, and put yourself on display

Normally, you would never do something this risky. Maybe it's because of Jing Yuan—or a different potential point of interest just mere feet down the hall—but you feel inclined to jump out of your shell now.

So many years in Kafka’s shadow and even more in your mother's palm. You're grown up now, independent and you want to be taken seriously. It's the least you deserve and the most you want. He's going to take you seriously; he's going to see how badly you want him and the lengths you’ll go to to show up for him.

You've made a big leap in your behavior and you're prepared to deal with the consequences. No more little mouse, you're not a baby anymore.

It's time to take the world in your palm and bask in the mature gleam. You let the spotlight burn your skin as you work yourself to an orgasm, moaning so carelessly you're probably the center of conversation among Kafka and her friends. And you’d be right; partially, anyway.

Kafka having dozed off with Silver ages ago left Blade up alone, amusing himself with an average social media feed and remnants of a joint. He tried to ignore your soft moans coming from down the hall, but hey, he has keen ears.

He knows it's probably that douchebag you went out with making you sound like that and he can't even get mad about it. He's almost thankful — it's not every day you get to hear the melodies of an angel.

Neediness and curiosity reach all-time highs and urge him to do something he's 100 percent going to regret.

Blade takes light-footed steps toward your bedroom, the moans, and whimpers of you getting louder as he approaches the source. You sound so pretty; he can only imagine the way your face is knitted up and how wet you must be.

He hates himself for doing this, but he eavesdrops: letting an ear rest on the wood of your bedroom door and taking in the sounds you spew out.

He wishes he was on the other side of this door making you sound like that. He'd probably make you wake the entire apartment building up—

“I’m about to cum—! Ngh, oh my—” A sharp whine cuts you off. He wonders: do you squirt? Can you? Can he make you? There's no way possible that dickhead can do it.

“Me too—oh, shit, baby.” Comes out muffled to Blade, and his eyes roll immediately. Cornball shit, he thinks.

He hadn't pictured you as the phone-sex kind of girl, but with the way that jackass is egging you on, it's no wonder. You're so much better than this, than that guy and all he wants to do is let you know that. Blade is probably no better, but he can try. He can change for you and do right by you—in every aspect.

Your whimpers grow pitchier and you're puffing out deep breaths. You sound…overstimulated. He can imagine your toes curling and thighs trembling as you fuck yourself, squeezing your eyes shut with swollen lips. Your pussy is probably leaking a river, covering your ass, and staining your (probably) dainty white sheets. What he would give to make you feel good, let alone look at you.

“Yuan—!! I'mcummingImcummingImcumming!!!” You squeal, muffling yourself with a hard slap over your mouth.

Blade doesn't even realize he's begun to palm his cock and roll his hips into his hand. “Oh…” he quietly moans, letting his head fall onto your door.

Shit. He has to leave now, hearing you yelp at the sound and shuffle around. No use trying to hide, so he makes an escape: walking fast out of the front door without a second thought. Great—now he has to drive home with a rock-hard dick.

And you gather yourself. Hanging up the phone with Jing Yuan and walking to your door awkwardly due to the mess between your legs.

Cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you think back to that sound. It was a knock, right?

Kafka and Silver lay on opposite ends of the same couch, curled under your throw blanket which is much too small for them. Blade is nowhere to be found…huh. Weird.

“Hey, Kaf,” you shake your roommate awake over the back of the couch. She moans and rolls over, slowly peeling her sleepy eyes open, “hmm?”

“Were you at my door just now?” The red-head shakes her head no, pulling the blanket over her shoulders and away from Silver.

If it wasn't her…“Where’s Bladie?” She questions, noticing his absence.

You shrug. “He probably left earlier.”

Even half-asleep, Kafka has double the brain you do. You can't see what's right in front of you.

She smiles, shuffling again and closing her eyes. “Alright, then. Good night.”

“Night,”

ೀ

With a week left until spring break, you cherish the time you've spent this last month or so living.

It feels like the first time, in all of your nineteen years of living, that you are living. Your smiles are brighter, your days are happier, and you're living every second to its fullest extent in absolute bliss.

Almost every week you're on a date with Jing Yuan. He's practically your boyfriend, but there's no official label so you keep that thought process to yourself.

Lowkey dates with him that slightly escalate have become your norm. You're still holding off on full-blown sex, and you wish you weren't. It causes some tension every time you restrict him from fucking you - but he tells you he's waiting, he's more than happy to wait. That's more than most men are willing to do and you're happy that you're fortunate to have landed yourself someone like you. Spending the tail end of your dates getting your neck marked up and fingered while you jerk him off is as much scandal as you can handle. Nerves are what's stopping you from going all the way. Definitely not Kafka’s hot friend who you can't stop thinking about.

There's synergy in your apartment now. You're not walking into a room with a tight chest and bated breath, just waiting to see what's waiting for you anymore. It's normal now—all of it. From Silver ransacking your kitchen to an obnoxiously loud-smelling blunt, you're used to it. It's not nearly as bad as you feared when Kafka initially moved in.

You sit in the dining hall with Fu Xuan, listening to her angry rambling about her statistics class. She never backs down, always eager to let a piece of her mind fly whether you like it or not.

“Stupidest fucking class ever. And, like, I shouldn't even be in there in the first place because I am wayyy too smart—”

“Hey guys,” thank God. Yukong shows up and sits next to Xuan, saving you from a monologue about how smart and wonderful she is. You love her, but man does she know how to talk.

“Nice of you to join us,” Xuan says snappily. Yukong pays her attitude no mind, sipping her coffee and turning to you with a knowing look.

She shifts the conversation, “Anyway…I came to let you guys know that there's going to be a party on Friday at the sorority. Tingyun said it’s to celebrate the beginning of spring break.”

You can't even remember the last time you went to a party. The smile growing on your face is too strong to fight. “What time?”

“Umm…I’ll have to check. Probably late though, so…”

This can be your first outing with Jing Yuan. Just the two of you with all eyes on you. Right before spring break as well…it could be your first time together—the thoughts alone make your head spin and a flurry of images swarm.

“Hm. Well, I won't be there.” Xuan states, crossing her arms and looking off elsewhere.

Amused, Yukong questions her why. “‘Cause. I'm gonna be busy with burning this stupid campus down!”

┄┄

hii <3 didn’t see u today so i hope ur feeling alright! also did u hear about the party this friday? r u thinking about going? miss u

You send your trilogy of texts to Jing Yuan, drowning out the conversation Kafka and Silver are having in your living room. “Can you back me up here?!”

Silver looks at you for backup, to which you're dumbfounded. What were they talking about again? “Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, setting down your phone.

“Ugh!” The gamer groans, falling back onto the couch. “Please tell your sister that a Nintendo DS and a Nintendo Switch are not the same thing!”

“They do the same thing, though!” Kafka defends. “Barely! Kaf, I’m on that thing like, twenty-four-seven and you mean to tell me you think I’m playing Cooking Mama?”

“I don't know what you play. You never let anyone try and join you.”

“Because you all suck! Every single last one of you is dead weight and it makes me look bad.” Kafka scoffs, turning around and looking at you with an exasperated look. You lock eyes and share a similar smile — as much as you claim you and Kafka are total opposites, you get each other in ways not understood.

She turns back around and shuts Silver’s yapping down and at the same time, Blade emerges from the hallway. He looks good. Really good.

His long, dark hair is disheveled and tossed into a low bun, making you gain a newfound appreciation for man buns. His black “wife-beater” tank snugs onto his frame tightly—every ridge and curve of his solid abdomen pressing through the fabric and leaving little to the imagination. Staple gray sweats make you immediately avert your gaze, awkwardly making eye contact with you.

He caught you staring, and you caught him.

As if it were divine intervention, your phone buzzed on the counter behind you and you went straight for it, hiding the flustered look on your face behind your phone. You don't do a good job, though. Kafka notices.

hey baby accidentally slept in this morning but I’m alright heard abt the party but idk if I’m gonna go. not rly feeling it

A frown stretches across your lips as you disappointedly text back.

ohh okay feel better <3

Read.

It's fine—you're fine! You’ll just go with your friends and have a great time and you can see him after break.

You want that to be comforting but your gut tastes the bitter truth. It's not time to have that conversation with yourself so you table it, leaving your phone on the table and joining Blade on the second couch. Kafka and Silver monopolized the other one and you had to fight the urge to wiggle your way between them.

“So, what are we watching?” You make conversation, hiding the shake in your voice by focusing on the TV. Some random show plays, something so stupid you’d never waste your time on this.

“Dunno. Blade picked it.” Silver shrugs, slamming buttons on her Switch.

He turns to you. “Uh, it's the adaptation of the book ‘Verdict’. About Imbibitor Lunae.” He informs shyly. His voice is so gritty and deep—every time you hear it you swear you feel the depth reverberating in your bones.

Blade makes you so nervous. With his intense stare and even more intense aura, he's overwhelming and nerve-wracking. While you've grown to be comfortable with Silver and Kafka, Blade is the only one you walk on eggshells around.

And he feels the same way. He wants to breach the wall and get to know you. He wants to sit on this couch with you with his arms wrapped around your frame and you in his lap and relax. He's so tense around you, so stiff out of pure fear that if he makes the wrong move or says the wrong thing, he’ll scare you off. Blade likes you. And when it comes to girls like you and guys like him, it doesn't take much for things to go wrong.

You like that he reads though. “Ooh, interesting. I’ve never read that book,”

“It's pretty old and short. Most people of our generation haven't heard of it, I bet.”

“Yeah, 'cause you act fifty years old!” Silver sneers, earning a slap on the leg from Kafka. He pays her no mind, instead watching how you laugh at her teasing.

Your eyes get so bright when you smile: full of joy, full of light. It's so cute.

“What episode is this?” You ask him. Clearing his throat, he checks with the remote, “Episode four.”

“Mind catching me up?” Are you doing this on purpose? You’ve got to know what you're doing to him.

Heat drives up his neck and he has to create distance, sitting all the way back on the couch and replying to you with a nod.

You gulp, watching the way his legs naturally spread and how his arms flex. Insanely attractive, almost criminally so.

“So, it’s basically about that guy,” he points at the screen, a graceful-looking man with horns displayed, “called the Sinner—”

“That guy’s a sinner? He looks like an angel,” You comment. You take another look at the screen and Blade fights a smile.

If only you knew.

He continues to break down the lore of Verdict to you, going very in-depth and getting seemingly passionate as he goes on. Kafka scrolls on her phone and takes it in with pride—Blade should thank her. Never in all of her years of friendship with him does she think she's ever heard him talk this much, let alone to someone he’s interested in. It's pure proof of what you do: the best sides of people come out because of you.

You listen to him intently, chiming in with reactions and questions every now and then and completely abandoning the show you're supposed to be learning about. You just like to hear him talk. His rough voice softens up as he continues explaining the story to you and in turn, your body language softens. You can relax and lie on the couch, keeping your eyes on his face as you lean your head down on your wrists.

Details you hadn't noticed before on his face stand out to you — like how clear and supple his milky skin is and how his chapped lips are tinted ever-so-slightly red. You notice how his thick eyebrows wiggle and knit together when he’s thinking, and his awkward, canine-heavy smile when you make a comment. Blade is dorky and surprisingly, a history enthusiast.

He goes from detailing the fabled betrayal of Imbibitor Lunae to the Ambrosial Arbor to everything before, after, and during. From the unusual silence exuding from Kafka and Silver, he realizes just how much he's been talking. Even you have started to drift off, your eyes are heavy as you listen to old Xianzhou tales.

Upon realizing that he’s effectively talked everybody to sleep, he takes the blanket draped on the armchair and covers you, making sure to be as cautious as possible. He doesn't know what he’d do if you woke up and caught him.

As weird as it sounds, he likes seeing you sleep. You look so peaceful like your dreams are full of cotton candy and rainbows. Knowing you, they probably are.

“You’re staring, Bladie.” He turns around to see Kafka, her smirk overtaking her groggy expression. He doesn't even try to refute the claim or defend himself. If there's anyone other than himself that knows him well, it's Kafka. She probably knows him more than he does himself at this point.

“You’re cute, making moves on her and stuff,” He naturally follows her as she makes her way to the kitchen. The blush on his cheeks dusts lightly, and his eyes find comfort in staring at the floor. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” She reaches into the fridge, pulling out the last can of Mung Bean Soda.

She pops the can open and takes a short swig, “so what's your plan?”

Blade shrugs. Kafka sighs, placing the can on the counter. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

ೀ

If Jing Yuan wasn’t going to come to the party tonight, you were going to make him regret it.

You dressed in the shortest, tightest dress you owned: an off-the-shoulder white mini-dress with the prettiest shine to it. You bought it impulsively after your mid-term breakdown freshman year, thinking retail therapy would make you feel better. (It didn't–another breakdown ensued when you realized you just wasted money on shit you didn't need.)

You did your makeup the best you ever have. Perfect highlight, sharp and even eyeliner wings, balanced lip combo—cosmetology school should have been your first choice with this type of beat.

Yukong told you to come at 9; the time on your phone reads 8:58. A little late, but fashionably so.

The jacket Yuan had given you still resides in your room due to your forgetfulness. If you're going to this party, why not make a statement?

You slip on the bomber jacket, the bulkiness of the fit aiding the aesthetics of your outfit. It gave off comfy but cute—“in my boyfriend’s closet” vibes. Surely, Tingyun or whoever the hell else competing with you will take the hint with this. Nobody will have to guess whose jacket it is when there's a white lion embroidered on the right arm. If this isn't a soft launch, you don't know what is.

Grabbing your essentials you walk out to the usual scene in your living room: Kafka, Blade, and Silver seated on different couches engaged in a conversation. Their heads turn to you, and you immediately let your gaze fall to Blade. He almost looks away instantly — too much. You're too much and he knows that it's for that guy. The one who doesn't deserve you but gets to see you cum and receive your attention…unfair.

“Wowww look at you! Little mouse is stealing someone’s man tonight!” Silver whoops, snapping her fingers. You roll your eyes at her, brushing stray strands of hair back.

You walk to the door, “Don’t wait up!!!”

Oh, but they will. Some more than others.

┄┄

Yukong’s sorority house is huge but it feels so small with this many people present. The invitation was extended to the entire campus, presumably, and sure enough, they showed up and showed out.

Pulling up was a nightmare — cars and people backed up for what seemed like miles. Your Uber driver huffed and puffed the entire time trying to find somewhere to let you out, and you could only extend apologetic woes and smiles. Walking up to the house was better, but you suddenly woke up from your dream world and realized that people could see you. They could perceive you and form preconceived notions about you just from how you carried yourself. You became conscious of what the hell you had on—immediately regretting the short dress when you had to squeeze between some randoms smoking on the stairs, your bare thighs rubbing against their bodies. Ugh.

The music was loud, seemingly traveling through the floorboards and it felt incredibly unstable to walk in your heels. You searched for Yukong, spotting your best friend off to the side with Hanya.

“Woaahh, look at you!” She exclaims. You give her a spin and laugh. Through your joy, you miss the way her face crinkles up when she eyes the jacket you sport. “Do you want a drink?”

You nod, “Only like, one or two. I'm trying to stay sober; I want to remember tonight.” You send her a look that means only one thing: you have something planned for tonight. What that thing is…well, Yukong isn't sure she wants to know.

She asks Hanya to fetch you a drink, taking up a conversation with you in her place. “How’s the sister situation?”

You hadn't updated Yukong on the status of things in a while. Should you tell her about Blade?

Wait. Tell her what?

As if there's anything to tell…

“It’s actually good. Surprisingly. I thought I’d be begging my mom to take her by now,” you joke. Hanya returns with a red solo cup, handing it to you. “It’s something tame.”

You're not a fan of the taste of alcohol. You can't understand how people willingly get shitfaced—this shit is nasty. You cringe and shudder at the taste. Whatever juice base is added does not aid the taste one bit.

“Her friends are around often. Like…every day. I wonder if they have jobs but I haven't asked,” Yukong takes a sip of her drink as well.

“Did they help this transformation occur?”

And suddenly, the reality of how you look hits you again. “Ha ha, very funny. I wanted to try something new, something sexy.”

“It worked!!” A random girl replies as she and her friends walk toward the kitchen. The face you give Yukong says I told you so, and she rolls her eyes.

“Let’s dance!” You exclaim, grabbing onto your friend with the sudden shift in the music.

Reluctantly, she follows you to the sea of gyrating bodies. Everybody dancing and talking forms a cocoon of heat—you’re encapsulated the moment you breach the area.

Sip, dance, laugh. Sip, dance, laugh. Sip, dance, laugh. You keep this up for a good twenty minutes, breaking on the couch every now and then. It may be only you and Yukong — and the occasional appearance of Hanya — but you're having fun. Fun like you said you would with or without Yuan—

He’s here???

You spot Jing Yuan out of the corner of your eye. He daps partygoers up at the door, making his way through the jumbles of people clearly in search. Of you?

You almost call his name and wave but he walks straight toward Tingyun. His hands slide around her waist instinctively and her arms wrap around his neck tightly. She giggles as he lifts her up, and she gives him her cup when she's put back down. They don't break eye contact the entire time he downs the remainder of her cup, and as soon as he's finished, the cup is replaced with her hand and she's guiding him up the stairs.

Did he think you wouldn't be here? Or did he not give enough of a fuck regardless?

Whatever the case—it hurts. You take the jacket off and toss it to the ground, not realizing the stray tear that streaks down your face.

Tingyun is going to give him something that you couldn't. He’s going to give her something you can't have. You feel slighted like the rug has been torn from beneath your feet and you’re doomed to a fate forever on your ass. You look stupid. So so so stupid, but you have enough dignity to wait until you leave to bawl your eyes out.

Ignoring Yukong calling your name, you walk outside and begin calling yourself an Uber. The early spring chills make you even madder. Fuck this stupid dress, this stupid party, that stupid Jing Yuan—“Hey!!! You didn't hear me calling you?”

Yukong comes following after you, her face concerned as she comes into view. Seeing your tears, her eyebrows furrow, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

A sad laugh escapes your throat and you look up at the sky, attempting to hold back the sudden rush of tears. “Yuan is sleeping with Tingyun,”

Her face is full of indescribable expressions. She has many things she wants to say, but she chooses the safe option. “Huh?! How do you know?”

“His lying ass just showed up and threw himself all over her. Then they went upstairs and you and I both know they aren't up there talking.”

You poor, poor girl. “I shouldn't be sad…what was I thinking? I should've known that he was an asshole.” You should have, but Yukong won't blame you.

The last romantic attention you had was from Dan Heng: your kinda-sorta-ex-boyfriend who took your virginity senior year and broke up with you a month later because you were going to different schools. You crave a change in the way people perceive you. Jing Yuan was the closest thing to a fever dream you had in university, and he turned it into a nightmare. What was supposed to be your rebranding - an age of confidence and maturity was overtaken by his pushiness and exclusivity.

“It doesn't matter, I don't care. I just wanna go home,” You hope Kafka and her friends are on their best behavior tonight. You're not in the mood for any shit.

“Are you sure?” Yukong doesn't know how to comfort you. Anything she has to say will make it worse, she's sure of it.

You nod, wiping the string of tears off of your cheeks. The buzzing of your phone lets you know that your Uber is approaching shortly, so you give Yukong a smile that’s meant to comfort her - but it only worries her. She won't push you because the only way this’ll end is messy if so.

She offers you a comforting smile of her own, pulling you into a soft hug. “Call me later, okay?”

She reluctantly pulls away and heads back into the party, head swiveling over her shoulder to make sure you don't jump in front of a car. You're not going to — if anyone needs to, it's that asshole, Jing Yuan.

Your Uber pulls up and saves the day, the warmth in the car settling goosebumps on your skin from the juxtaposition. “Long night?” The driver asks, peering at you through the mirror.

Is it that obvious?

With a sad smile, you nod, “It's only gonna get longer.” You laugh. Imagining the annoying amount of questions and pep talks Kafka is going to give you when you step through the door irritates you. You lay your head against your seat, and then your phone buzzes.

Flipping the device over, you see three notifications from ‘Yuan <3’. Ugh.

Looking at it is going to make you do or say something you’ll completely regret. You regain composure through a deep breath; placing your phone face down on your lap and watching the world blur through the window.

You're trying not to feel humiliated. There's a burn in your chest because every time you close your eyes, there's a scene of you and him together. You're stupid to think he actually liked you. His longing gazes and lingering touches and sweet words were tactics to get into your pants — and it almost worked. There's a reason your mother treats you like a baby: you are one and can't handle the real world. You hate that you had to come to this conclusion like this, but you're not ready.

Thanking the driver, you pull yourself out of the car, trudging begrudgingly into the building and in the elevator. And you can't stop fucking crying.

Stray tears keep escaping and no matter how many times you wipe them away or vigorously blink, it doesn't stop the flow. Why are your feelings hurt this badly? Why did you like him so much?

These same questions cycle as you open your front door, being hit with the same atmosphere you just escaped.

You’ve got to be kidding me, you think. Of all nights, tonight Kafka decides to throw a damn party???

Not wanting to spend another second in this atmosphere, you weave your way through the partygoers — an exceptional amount of people, given the space of your apartment, if you may add.

Trying to escape to your room gets you caught by your roommate, and your name gets called across the party as a result. She maneuvers her way to you, “What’re you doing back here so early, little mouse? I thought we shouldn't wait up?”

The sadness you wear is so prominent. Your face is dropped and your lips quiver when she asks her questions. You stare at the floor to not let the tears fall. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I'm just gonna go to sleep, so can you keep the noise down?” You try to brush her off. Kafka doesn't let you slip away, grabbing your arm and keeping you in place.

The rim of her cup nudges at your chin in place of her hand, forcing you to look up at her. A black headband pushes her plum-colored locks out of her face, straight strands flowing down her back. When she tilts her head pitifully at you, her hair swings to the side, falling over her shoulder and at this moment she looks so approachable. “What’s wrong?” She poses the question again, her tone softer than before.

You almost break down in front of her and she immediately extends her arm around your shoulders, pulling the side of you into her chest. She hands you her cup and you immediately down the liquid with no second thought. Her hand rubs your arm comfortingly and she guides you toward the kitchen, “C’mon, let's talk in here.”

The kitchen is surprisingly unoccupied save for a few hungry stragglers, leaving the two of you to sit on the stools. She refreshes your cup, getting a new one of her own and finishing off another bottle of tequila.

Kafka can tell by looking at you that this upset is caused by heartbreak. No words have to be spoken for her to understand, and now it's her job to take care of you. The way you deserve.

“What’d he do?”

The look on her face is all-knowing. You can't help but break a small smile at her intuitiveness. “I’m sure you can imagine…”

Of course she can. It was clear as day that he wanted only one thing. Everybody but you could see that a mile away.

“How’d you find out?”

“The asshole definitely wasn't trying to hide it.” You state, taking a big sip of your drink and cringing at the bitterness. Yuck. “He told me he wasn't going to come to the party, but I'm there, dancing, and here he comes. With a big wide-ass smile he walks straight to Tingyun and they waste no time in going upstairs.”

You don't normally swear, but you're so irritated that the words just soar from your lips. It’s almost amusing to watch your angry rambling. “Not even accounting for the fact that I was there and somebody could have told me. It was right in my face—right there and it was like I was invisible!!!”

Her eyes travel up and down your body. You're definitely not invisible. Jing Yuan just doesn't know what to do with you.

“He didn't deserve you; I hope you know that.” She comments, sipping her drink slowly. You finish off yours with bigger gulps, immediately hopping off of the stool and searching for a new bottle. Pouring another full cup, you nod, “I do now.”

“And then—he had the audacity to text me!” You sit down, taking off your heels. You're ready to get comfortable and let everything rip. Kafka’s eyes widen, “Oh, really?”

You hum to confirm, picking up your phone and checking the notifications. A few texts from Yukong and Xuan join his messages, but those don't matter. You hand the phone to Kafka, “I didn't even read them. I should block him, right?”

hey baby, i’m at the party wya

just talked to Yukong…can we talk? I wanna explain don’t be like this. at least let me explain?

Double yuck. You absolutely should block him…after this, though.

“He wants to explain himself to you. Classic,” She sneers. You laugh through your sipping, sitting the cup down. “He must take me for an idiot.”

There's a short silence that breaks with you changing the subject. “What’s the occasion?” You question.

She shrugs, placing her cup down. “Just felt like partying.”

Kafka tells a bit of a half-truth. While she did feel like having fun — her idea extends beyond getting sloppy drunk and into territory thus far unexplored. There's one objective she has tonight and it can't be completed unless her two moving pieces are pliable and cooperative. In terms of a checklist, she's halfway there.

Low-lidded eyes narrow at you, as if to tell you her intent wordlessly. You don't pick up what she's putting down, instead feeling heavily nervous under her gaze. “Anyway. Why don't we…”

She trails off, her finger tapping her chin exaggeratedly. “Wanna dance?”

You suck in a breath, holding up your hands. “I think I'm gonna call it a night, actually. It’s kind of late and all that crying made my head hurt…” You laugh. That’s partly true—you just want to escape whatever trap she’s set, if you're being honest. And frankly, after tonight, you have slight trauma from dancing.

“It’ll make you feel better.” She sings, wiggling a finger at you. “Come on; just one dance!”

Your face crinkles. You're not convinced. “Silver’s on the aux, we can ask her to play whatever you want.” She tries to bribe. “No sad-girl depressed shit, though.”

She keeps asking, offering deals and propositions that sound all the more appetizing as she continues. After a series of unabashed begging, you finally agree. “One song,” you sternly declare, hopping off the stool and grabbing ahold of your cup.

Her hands are in the air defensively, a cheshire smile stretching across her lips. “You lead the way,”

You've never partied with Kafka before. Your time spent as step-sisters consisted of you mostly lurking and watching, earning your nickname ‘little mouse’ because you were quiet, swift, and moved at night. You saw her sneak people into the house while your parents slept, throw parties while they were out, smoke in your backyard, and do other wild activities — but she never let you join. Your age was your main roadblock, being deemed too young and too cute to join her and her friends. Dancing with her now, smelling the strong mix of scents in the air and the bass of the music jumping in your bones, you understand why now.

Maybe it's the alcohol or the fact that your heart is broken, but the atmosphere is heavy. There's a lingering feeling that seeps through your pores. It has you dancing with her, letting her hands lie on your waist and your hips sway together.

Your bodies generate a fountain of heat that consumes you. You can't help but just dance: feeling the beat in your very core. Mixed with your surplus of liquid courage, your body sways and gyrates, lighting a flame you won't be able to put out in Kafka. Her smile is wide and her eyes flicker toward the couch, meeting an intense amber gaze.

Blade is entertained…more so intrigued with how you can live freely even after your heart weighs you down. The smile on your face doesn't falter — it only grows and gleams and he can't stop watching you dance.

Should he take Kafka’s place? He wants to take Kafka’s place.

It should be his hands on your waist, his lips on your ears, his words making you laugh—“Ah, I’m exhausted,”

You plop down beside him with an exasperated groan. He almost jumps out of his skin when you appear, and looking up at Kafka who towers over the pair of you, he can tell this is only the beginning. Her smile is warm but all-telling: whatever idea she has brewing in her head is coming to fruition tonight.

“I’ll be back. Take care of her for me, Bladie,” she shoots him a wink. He almost doesn't know what to do. Should he talk to you? Take you to bed?

“Blade?” Your voice is so small, so cute. You're quiet beneath the jumble of sounds crammed in your apartment but he can pick you out amongst the masses. He's never heard you address him before and the way his name leaves your mouth…he’s always going to replay it in his head forever. “…Y-yeah?”

He doesn't stutter but fuck, you make him nervous.

Breathing out airily, you turn your head to him. “…Do you and Kafka date?”

“No.” His answer is straight and immediate. Must be a sore subject…

“Oh…” “Why do you ask?” He knows why you ask. The same reason everybody else does. “Dunno. You guys just seem…close.”

“She’s not my type of girl.”

“Oh?” You perk up, now intrigued. “Then, what is your type of girl?”

You. He picks at his nails and almost avoids your eyes. How does he answer this question without freaking you out? Ah…fuck it.

“…You.” He’s dying on the inside but at least you're drunk—you’re not going to remember this so it won't be that bad. “Really?”

Your tone pitches up as you adjust your position. You lean your head against your hand now, opting to look him in his eyes. His attention feels nice and hearing that somebody insanely attractive wants you. You make him nervous, making him twiddle his fingers, and his cheeks dust rosy. That's a type of flattery that you can't make up.

“Yeah,” he says matter-of-factly. As if it's so obvious that he likes girls like you.

“What about me do you like?”

“Oh, uh, I don't know…” he trails off. He suddenly remembers the solo cup he abandoned earlier in the night and picks it up off the floor. He’s going to need a serious buzz to bear his dirty laundry to the wind. “…everything?” He poses it like a question — as though your reaction would gauge the validity.

Your face was brighter and painted in a flustered manner. “Thank you,” is all you can say without word-vomiting.

“What are you two talking about?” Kafka breaks up your tension, handing you another full cup and weaving her way onto the couch. She takes a seat right behind you, effectively spooning you. She takes a look at Blade over your shoulder, noticing the blush that paints his cheeks and the refusal to look in your direction.

Downing big swigs of your mystery drink, you shake your head. “Oh, nothing…” You sing, giving Blade an obvious reassuring wink that Kafka laughs at. “Guess I should leave you two to it, huh?”

“To what?” You ask coyly. You giggle bubbly, hiding your grin behind your cup. Kafka gives you a look, “I’m interrupting, aren't I? It’s okay to push me away.”

“We didn't do anything yet!!”

“Yet?” Kafka and Blade exchange glances - a series of looks that only mean one thing.

You slap a hand over your mouth, laughing into your palm drunkenly. Your mind is hazy and covered in static. That's not what you meant to say— “Well, I mean…”

She quirks an eyebrow at you, cocking her head to the side. “What do you mean? You playing to run off with Bladie later?”

While that would be great and you aren't completely unopposed…“We were just talking.”

Kafka shrugs, dropping the topic. You’re determined to preserve the privacy of your conversation until the very end. Well, anyway, there are other methods of getting the show on the road.

Her brief time away from the pair of you was spent curating a queue of songs on Silver’s phone — songs she knows you like, songs she knows Blade likes, and songs she knows your inebriated bodies will like. Full of bass, full of sensuality, full of dirty innuendos that get your core filled with butterflies and your head filled with fantasies. She took it upon herself to mix up a concoction strong enough to wipe out a village of Pilgrims and your inhibitions.

From the moment your mother mentioned staying with you, Kafka thought of you. You’re a staple goody-two-shoes, held down to Earth with a strict upbringing and a perfectionist mindset. You were always eager for more, wide eyes watching as she and her friends explored all types of realms unbeknownst to you.

It’s her way of setting you free and paying you back. All those times you covered for her, all those times you took care of her after a long night out, and even now, taking her in when you have no reason to — it’s her way of saying thank you. Giving you the release you’ve been clawing for since she met you; giving you the release you deserve.

Blade is perfect for you. He's the type of guy to send your mother into cardiac arrest but the type of guy to love you right. He's not a man of many words but of many actions — a crafter, a creator, a provider, a carer. What you need is stability, something in scarce supply ever since your parents split up; but you also need someone to fix. That can't be Kafka, it won't be her.

She's going to hand you the tools to set you free, but it's up to you to forge your way out.

This box of safety you guard yourself in is coming down tonight. The burden of finding the perfect, golden guy, being the perfect, golden girl, and living a perfect, golden life is shriveling by the minute, each alcoholic sip you take singeing its weight.

The sultry beat of the next song punches through the atmosphere. The vibe of the party seems to slow down: the chatter lowers itself to background noise, bodies move longingly and languidly, and the lights seem dimmer. Your body feels heavier too, slumping forward on the couch to where your forehead collides with Blade’s knee.

His hands are quick to slip under your arms, helping you sit up straight. Kafka rubs a supportive hand in circles on your back, “You alright, little mouse?”

You look at the man in front of you, his silhouette slowly coming into focus. With his hair freed down his back and toned body dressed in his usual comfortable loungewear, he looks good. So fucking good with the worried look on his face.

“Hey, I got you,” he states.

In a second your strength is replenished and you muster the courage to lean in, stealing a kiss from him. It’s unexpected, sloppy, and tastes a whole hell of a lot like liquor…but, fuck, does it feel good.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, choosing to remove them from beneath your arms and rehome them on your waist. The initial shock dissipates and his body naturally leads into your kiss, his eyes closing after taking in the image of an amused Kafka.

You whimper into his mouth, eager to climb onto his lap. Your hands roughly tangle in his hair, pulling his face unimaginably closer as if you were trying to consume him whole. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips against your glossed ones is like heaven - even better as he gets to re-slick them with his tongue.

It’s like the world around you doesn't exist anymore. Time could cease to exist and it wouldn't faze you because you have everything you need beneath you. The warmth of another person, the kisses of pure desire, the hands of desperation…it all rests in Blade and he delivers it unto you. It's all that matters right now, all you could ever wish for — forget Jing Yuan, your mother, whatever stressors have been weighing you down. It's insignificant, it doesn't matter, not when Blade sucks your tongue and his hands grab the fat of your ass.

It doesn't take much to escalate the situation with the amount of alcohol and stress in your body. It needs to all come out.

“Alright, lovebirds.” Kafka practically pulls you two apart, holding your hand and hoisting you to your feet. “Let’s get you to bed,”

You grumble like a petulant child, holding your other hand out for Blade to grab. He’s quick to slip your hand into his. “I don't wanna go to bed…”

Leading you through the myriad of people, Kafka laughs, “Don’t worry. We’re not going to sleep.”

You giggle at her words, the meaning not fully processing in your hazy head. You miss her innuendos the way you always have, focusing on Blade. His arm wraps around your waist to stabilize you with Kafka’s hand locked in yours. It’s intimate, it’s nice, and though you can't see the heat burn in his skin in this darkness, you can feel it with how close he is to you.

Kafka leads the three of you into your room, flickering your light on and closing the door behind you all. She locks it while you basically drag Blade to your bed.

You're more abrasive when you're drunk: grabbing Blade by the fabric of his shirt into another sloppy kiss. It’s amusing to watch, Kafka’ll give you that. But that's not the image she had in mind.

“Easy tiger,” she purrs, sitting behind you on the bed. You both catch your breaths, looking at each other with small smiles. There's a spark of desire in the room, latching onto any and everything and setting it ablaze. It’s hot and palpable and you need to set it out. “Let’s take our time, yeah?”

It doesn't register what she meant by that until her hands are fondling your chest and her chin rests on your shoulder. “Mmh…” she moans, feeling your nipples harden through your dress, “We’ve been waiting a real long time for this, haven't we, Bladie?”

He finds himself at a loss for words, swallowing thickly and keeping his eyes trained to you. “Yeah…”

“Why don't you come show her, then?” Kafka instructs, fluttering her eyes up to him. He doesn't need much encouragement to catch your bobbing head with his palm, leaning in and taking the lead in your kiss.

Under his behest, the kisses are softer, tamer, but filled with just as much—if not more—fire as before. He takes his time in carefully traversing your mouth with his tongue — completely contrasting from the kisses you gave him previously. You were taking a page from the book of Jing Yuan, using how he kissed you as a guideline for the basis. But that's not what you wanted. What you wanted from the very beginning was for him to take his time: to savor you down to every detail until your lips bruised and swelled, then move on to the rest of your body with passion.

Blade’s kisses were heavy with passion and need - as if he, too, was holding onto a package full of burdens.

As he moves down your jaw and neck, Kafka’s hands travel down to the hem of your dress, slipping under and gripping your bare sides. Her hands are cold and you flinch at the feeling, but it soon feels nice as her hands slide to cup your boobs under your bra. Your head falls back on her shoulder, allowing Blade more access to the expanse of your neck.

Your hips pathetically gyrate against the bed, receiving minimal friction that aids you in no way. It only makes you needier.

Blade pulls away to let Kafka pull your dress over your head, revealing the pretty, matching white set you have on underneath. You so obviously wore this with Jing Yuan in mind, and it irritates Blade that he was ever worthy enough to you to warrant such an ensemble. It was never right, never fair — but he has you now, and he doesn't plan on letting you go.

Kafka takes the initiative and unclips your bra, tossing the undergarment to the floor alongside your dress. You're pushed flat onto the mattress where she takes a moment to remove her crop top, leaning over you in her black lace bra.

She places a chaste kiss on your lips leaving your eyes to widen — watching with blown pupils as she lowers herself to your chest and darts her tongue toward your pebbled nipple. You drawl out a whine, your body curling up in response. She swirls the nub, dragging her teeth lightly on it and leaving you hissing and whimpering. All the while, Blade strips down to his underwear, tossing his long hair to the back and palming the tent in his pants.

You turn your head to your left and spot him, your face cringing in pleasure. You stretch your arms toward him and he complies, letting your hands find the sides of his head and pull him in for another kiss.

An agile hand slithers beneath the thin band of your panties, a slender finger slipping between your labia and running through your folds. You moan out into Blade’s mouth, hips jerking away and legs kicking into the air. “Your sensitive pussy’s all wet…” Kafka observes. She lays her head right below your boob, focusing her attention between your legs.

“‘S making a mess through your panties.” She laughs when you moan out again, her finger traveling down to your entrance and prodding.

“Kafka…” you moan, pulling away from Blade.

“Let’s see how long it takes to make you cum,” it’s so obvious that you're not going to last. Your cunt is soaked and only gets wetter by the minute, and her teasing ministrations have you moaning like a bitch in heat.

She adjusts her position, peeling down your panties and leaving them around your ankles lazily. The draft in your room whistles against your soaked folds - a chill runs up your spine as a result. She spits onto her hand as if it's needed, diving straight toward your clit. The sensitive bud is attacked mercilessly: heavy pressure weighing on it as Kafka draws figure-eights. There's a sticky clicking sound that arises and it makes her smile, taking a look at you and Blade over her shoulder.

You suck on his thumb, his left hand rubbing from your neck to your chest. Your whimpers are contained behind his digit, but your watery eyes say all. “You hear that?” She suddenly speeds up her actions, making your back arch and voice sing out around Blade’s finger.

And like a professional, she slows down, inching her finger back down to your hole. It slips in with ease and she sighs. “Dunno if she’s gonna be able to take you, Bladie,”

She pushes her middle finger in knuckle-deep, twisting her finger as she slithers her ring finger in beside it. Blade’s finger in your mouth does nothing to pacify you any longer - her fingers in your cunt bringing out the sweetest moans they’ve collectively ever heard. “She’s so tight…squeezing around my fingers.”

You writhe around in Blade’s hold and your arms brush over his hard-on every now and then. He winces and hisses, bucking into your touch. He needs to preoccupy himself before he cums in his pants—deciding to aid Kafka. His hand tentatively crawls toward your clit, rougher, thicker fingers pinching your bud. It has you huffing out a wail, balling your fist weakly on his thigh.

They keep up a steady pace in tandem, building up your orgasm with ease. Your body is reactive and receptive to their touch: falling apart when your core gets tight and even hotter.

“C’mon, little mouse…let it out for me,” Kafka encourages. She places sparse kisses against your thighs, the print of her lips faintly left in the color of her lipstick. “I can feel it. You wanna cum so bad,”

“Do it,” she murmurs between kisses, “let it out.”

It’s like your body is under her control. Your orgasm builds and crashes in a matter of seconds. Your hole spasms around her fingers but she never stops scissoring them inside of you, rubbing against your sweet spot and effectively overstimming you. You wail heartily, wrapping your arms around Blade’s arm and stopping him from continuing.

Kafka doesn't stop finger-fucking you until you come down from your high and endlessly whimper. She smears your release all over your pussy, bringing her coated fingers to her mouth.

Exaggeratedly, she sucks your juices off of her fingers, making sure to rock her hips against nothing and moan at the taste. “Mmfh,” and with a pop, she removes her digits from her mouth.

She hovers over you trying to catch your breath, capturing your face in her hand and squeezing your cheeks, forcing your lips to part. She lets her saliva drop from her mouth to yours, backing up with a smile. She stops you from swallowing: “Share,” she says.

You and Blade’s lips meet, smushing and mixing yours and Kafka’s spit. It gets messier, sloppier, and it's completely inefficient due to your awkward position but you comply nonetheless.

When you part, Kafka is making quick work of you and flips you over to your stomach. You yelp and giggle, looking over your shoulder and meeting her wide smile. Her index finger boops your nose and she turns to Blade, presumably signaling for him to get up. He stands up, hands grabbing your ankles and adjusting you perfectly.

Kafka slaps your tailbone softly, using her other hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Ass up,” she instructs, and you listen.

You wiggle your butt in the air with a laugh, laying your head on Kafka’s lap. Her pants are pretty comfortable and you find yourself becoming relaxed — while behind you Blade is pulling his boxers down and freeing his dick.

The last time you had actual sex was months ago…as in the middle to end of your freshman year. It was a forgotten one-night stand you met through a dating app - but he’s no match for Blade.

He presses the tip to your entrance, just teasing. Your heavy eyelids fly up, and you immediately brace yourself. You barely felt him, but he's big. You know it.

“Fuck…” he hisses. He wedges his cock between your folds, feeling your wetness smear against him. You feel his width, his length, his weight—he’s a lot less girthy than what you felt with your hands with Yuan, but he makes up for it in length.

If he keeps dragging his dick between your folds he’s going to cum. He has to physically stop himself, sucking in a deep breath because it's now or nothing.

Pressing the tip in you both gasp — and your sounds only drawl out until he completely bottoms out. He's so deep, and you're so wet. He's so big, and you're so tight. Dribbles of your previous orgasm and endless arousal seep out around him, and he nearly moans at the sight.

Getting a good grip on your ass, he spreads your cheeks, pushing you forward while pulling out. It’s a languid motion, edging you for the heart-stopping drop he imposes when you're filled fully again. Your moans come out with every collision and they're full of air. Your chest is tight and all of your air is flying out of your mouth. He's rendering you breathless, but it's nothing compared to how you're making him feel.

Blade begins to gradually increase his pace to satiate this intense hunger. He fucking needs you.

Now that he has a taste of you, his head is clear and his body is in nirvana. His strokes are precise and sharp. He pistons out of you with control, deep grunts skipping out of his mouth. It’s like your pussy is made for him: squeezing him just right in a tight hug and drooling endlessly.

Splat splat splat! The wet sound echoes from your collisions, battling against the barrage of moans that escape your mouth. “Oh, f-f—” you stutter over the curse, clawing at Kafka’s legs. She coos at you, rubbing your face. “You can take it, you got it. Good girl,”

“C-can’t! ‘M gonna cum!” You sob, burying your face into her leg.

Your body hasn't recovered from your previous orgasm, still reeling and the added pleasure Blade stacks on doesn't help. You feel like you're going to explode, wailing and drooling all over the place as your hips gain a mind of their own, fucking back against Blade and chasing your release.

“Think you can squirt for us?”

Oh, hell yeah. If there's one thing Blade wants to do for you, it's to ruin anybody else for you. He wants a monopoly over your body — he wants you to know him as your main source of Heaven on Earth and if there’s one way to do that…

In three swift movements, you're flipped back onto your back, legs on his shoulders. He slips back in with ease, wasting no time in pounding your cunt. He’s fiercer, more determined: drawn up with furrowed brows and his bottom lip snatched between his teeth, Blade becomes a different person.

There's more need, more fervor, an insatiable feeling that’s driven by your warm pussy around him and the idea of being the first person to make you squirt—the only person to make you squirt.

Kafka wraps her hand around your throat, squeezing the sides, and watches with pure amusement as your eyes grow foggier and your sounds grow choppier. They're just using your body, pushing you to the very limit and it's working so well.

A new fire has been lit under your ass and you feel alive — you're on top of the world and nothing but a grand finale can bring you down.

“G-got tighter…” Blade grunts out. Kafka turns to you, seeing how even though your eyes and mouth spill over, you still manage to curl your lips into a toothy grin. “Think she likes it,”

“You like this, huh? Being choked out while getting fucked silly?” God, yes. You love it—you’re on cloud nine.

In this position, Blade can fuck you deeper. He’s effectively digging you out, the slight left-leaning curve of his cock hitting your g-spot again and again. Quakes rack through your body again; it’s coming.

They both can tell and it's getting sloppy. Blade is holding back from blowing his load deep in you, and Kafka? Well, Kafka’s happy to play the supporting role - now letting go of your neck and wedging her head between you and Blade.

With her ass in the air, Kafka dives into the perfect arch to let her lips wrap around your clit, taking the neglected bud into her warm mouth with a long moan. The vibrations jolt through your body and you nearly scream out, thrashing above them.

It's too much, your body can't handle it. You start to crumble: your stomach gnarling and tears streaming down your face. “IcantIcantIcant—” Your hands frantically try to push Blade away but to no avail.

His grunts grow more animalistic as he puts all of his body weight into his thrusts, slowing down. He goes harder, making your body jostle with each grind of his hips. His face is knitted in pleasure, his porcelain skin damp with sweat and blemished in a crimson brushing. Kafka abusing your puffy clit with her tongue has you and Blade losing your minds, collectively falling apart.

This is it. This is pure, unadulterated bliss.

White hot heat surges through your body as you shake. Your thighs quiver on Blade’s shoulders, and Kafka can feel the stiffness of your clit. She slithers back to her seated position, her eyes never leaving the passion-filled affair occur.

Words you try to form only come out as broken squeaks and even Blade can't hold back any longer, letting out a string of blissed-out curse words as you clamp around him. The orgasm that begins to pour out of you is paired with a force that’s all but pushing him out.

You sob and he moans out — one last thrust breaking the floodgates. A clear stream shoots from between your legs, spurting at his abs. All the while, his orgasm comes over him, filling you with all his heavy balls had been storing.

You can't even move. Your chests heave for big breaths, unable to catch them.

It’s a high you can't come down from — filled with a surplus of electricity, liquor, and desire. You needed that more than anything, you needed him more than anything.

┄┄

A small yawn leaps from your mouth when your eyes begrudgingly open. What time even is it…?

You swing your arm over behind you in search of the device — but you're instead met with flesh. You're suddenly wide awake, sitting straight up only to realize you're completely naked. You turn to your side and there lays Blade, snoring softly into your pillow.

What the hell happened last night…

You jump out of bed, find something stray to throw on and feel an incredible ache between your legs. Clearly, you had quite the night. You can't concisely remember what happened last night and right now is definitely not the time to rehash your decisions.

You're not completely opposed to doing whatever you did with Blade because…well, he's Blade. He's always been attractive to you, and at least he’s willing to treat you like a person.

You're not going to wake him up so you leave him a note: scribbling your number on a random piece of paper and scurrying out of the room.

You need to find your phone and get some air—“Good morning. Took you a while to get up, huh.”

Kafka sits at the bar, stuffing her mouth with a spoonful of cereal. Does she know that you and Blade…

“Oh, yeah. Hey. Good morning…” you awkwardly puff out. Your voice is hoarse and you cringe at the sound, placing your hands on your chest with concern. “I’m gonna go um…get some food,”

“I made some eggs earlier if you want some—” “—I’m good. I could use the air, anyway.”

Kafka shrugs, turning back to her cereal. You rush out of your apartment in a blur, slamming the door and leaving Kafka in a brief silence.

Moments after you left, Blade emerges from the hallway. “Morning sleepy head. How’d you sleep?” She teases.

He nods, rubbing his eye. He takes a seat next to Kafka, holding up a piece of paper between two fingers. “Woke up to this,”

“The hell is that?” Kafka questions, spinning her spoon around in her bowl.

He flips the paper over, “Her number.”

A smile breaks across her face and she slaps his arm playfully. “Look at you!”

Blade fights off a coy smile, twirling the paper between his fingers. He waited so long, so patiently—and it was all worth it. He would do it again and again. All just to make you his.

#honkai star rail smut #honkai x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr blade #hsr kafka #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #kafka smut #kafka fanfic #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr fanfic #honkai smut #honkai fanfic #tw drugs #fanfic #tw dubcon #hsr x y/n #kafblade #kafblade x reader #honkai star rail #kafka honkai star rail #honkai star rail blog

[just-some-random-blogger]

Never Before

[Waiting For A Lifetime II] Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader + Aemond Targaryen x Reader (im sorry i couldn't help myself T_T)

Summary: Never before had Daemon, prince of Valyria, been so sure of anything in his entire life.

Word Count: 7k+ 💀💀💀

Warnings: Fem!reader, Modern AU, i have slight pov shifts kinda i hope its not confusing, probably poorly translated high valyrian, sibling quarrels T_T, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hello im 6000% invested in this that i made a moodboard MY MODERN!DAEMON NONNIE I HOPE YOURE READING THIS I HAVE A MADE A PART 2 ENJOY MY LOVE i hope you enjoy it T_T come back to my inbox and tell me what you think pls T_T i beg. this btw is a p2 and you 100% need to read the first chapter to appreciate this i think lol "Waiting For A Lifetime" (but to be fair, i doubt you need to read it to get what's happening though) ps the valyrian wedding vows are from reddit Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony also everyone who commented and messaged me about it my fic @pearlstiare @llovinjoonie @sabrina6272827 @ayamenimthiriel @comicsol1999 @fictionalcomforts @mirandastuckinthe80s @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @panagiasikelia

"Viserys!" Daemon shouted as he galloped loudly down the halls. He paid no mind to the staff greeting him good morning as he called out for his brother. No one minds. They are far too used to him. His hair jostles with his movement, yet he barely heaves as he runs. He is far too used to this.

Daemon changes the name he calls as he practically jumps down the stairs with how much excitement was in his bones, "Aemma!"

He huffs as his tousled, silver blonde hair flies over his face as he makes it downstairs.

The prince nearly collides with a servant who just exited a room he passed. He braces her, grunts as he pushes past. She squeaks and quickly mutters an apology that is quickly ignored.

Daemon runs down the hall, making a quick turn when he reaches a corner.

Had it been anyone other than the Wild Child himself, it would have been a concerning sight to see a man running frantically so early in the morn. However, Daemon had done worse, far worse in his youth especially. It was best to rather just get out of his way, lest he accidentally injure you in an unfortunate collision.

Daemon busts into the dining room with a dramatic bang, fitting of his innate dramatics. Finally, he was out of breath and catches it as as his brother and sister-in-law cooed at their newborn babe.

He huffs, walking over to the joyous family, absolutely illuminated by the sound of the young heir's laughter and seemingly indifferent to his entrance.

Daemon releases a sigh at the sight of them.

The little girl squeals in excitement as her mother rattles her toy over her face.

Viserys finally turns to his younger brother, "oh. You're awake."

Daemon reaches him and slaps a hand on his back in regard, making a beeline for Aemma, who he promptly seals into a hug and kisses her cheek.

"Off, you cunt," Viserys points loudly but emptily, making his wife snort.

Daemon smirks at the reaction to his theatrics, glad to finally have attention, smile widening as he takes his turn to coo to his babe, "Rhae-Rhae!"

Viserys rolls his eyes, "Rhaenyra."

Aemma gives her husband a look, swatting a hand at him, "I think it's a cute pet name, lovie."

"Aemma," the man sat by the side of Rhaenyra's high chair shifts on his seat, "Ray-ray was the name of his dog when we were kids."

"But you're much cuter than him, innit?" Daemon says as he reaches out to Rhaenyra, "you're so much cuter than my widdle pitbull was."

Aemma breaks into a fit of giggles upon learning the dog's breed. From the spot where she stood to the right of Rhaenyra's high chair, she threw her head back, her long platinum blonde hair cascaded down her shoulder. She thinks it's fitting that the prince cared for a pitbull; the most misunderstood breed of canines, she thinks.

Viserys watches as Daemon takes his daughter, "she's not going to let you hold her."

Daemon ignores him and beams when the child is successfully in his arms.

Victorious.

That is up until she broke into a loud fit of tears.

"Aww, shh, shh," Aemma coos at her daughter, "it's uncle Daemon! Uncle Daemon."

"Yes, uncle demon," the child's father states, "who will not hesitate to steal your candy the minute he can."

"Viserys," Aemma warns.

The said man raises his arms, "I won't let him, lovie."

Daemon turns to Aemma with worry written on his face and moves to bring the baby for her to take. When he turns to his brother, Viserys has a shitfaced I-told-you-so look written all over him.

Daemon decides to ignore it, not even sparing an eye roll that was itching in his skull. Aemma takes Rhaenyra and hushes her in her arms. The effect is instant. Daemon looks on blankly yet in awe. Viserys catches the way his brother sighs in what he could only describe as delight. The former walks over to Viserys, circling behind him to pull the seat to his side and hunch over with intent.

Viserys shoots him a look. And here he thought his brother wanted merely to have breakfast. He should have known, "what do you want?"

These words alert Aemma, who turns from her spot as she continues to rock the already pacified baby in her arms.

"I want mother's ring."

Aemma gasps, eyes widening, jaw slacking.

Viserys pulls his head back, screws his eyes shut, then shakes his head in disbelief. He opens his eyes as he says, "you want what?"

"The red one," Daemon points, "you know. I always thought the emerald cut suited mummy's finger."

Aemma beams, "oh my gods, Daemon!"

"Wait," the king raises his hands, "wait, wait-" he turns to his excited wife, "wait," he eyes Daemon, "why you asking for the ruby ring?"

"I just said that-"

"Don't fuck with me."

Daemon straightens up at the sound of the king's hiss. He then snorts, unable to mask his amusement over his older brother's annoyance. He leans on the table and then grabs a piece of some of the sliced fruit. He chews the sweet melon and grape in his mouth, lips curving into a small smirk, "I'm going to get married."

Aemma cannot contain the squeal that slips out of her mouth, "DAEMON!"

"Fuck off," Viserys mutters, leaning back on his chair, "don't mess with me, you nitwit. I will have your arse if you-"

"No, I'm serious," he places a hand on his brother's shoulder, "I have met..." Daemon exhales, shaking his head. He holds his tongue, trying to think of the right words to say. Aemma and Viserys both are stunned by this, the latter most especially. The prince purses his lips then utters, "the most enchanting woman and..."

Aemma whimpers, hand coming up to her lips, tears glassing her eyes.

Viserys shifts in his seat to turn to his brother.

"I..." Daemon shakes his head, turning away from his brother in thought. He knits his brows as he chuckles to himself. He retreats his hand, "I have no idea how, or why, but I just know," he turns to Aemma, "she's the one."

Aemma bursts into tears upon hearing the admission. She hands her daughter to her husband then heads off to Daemon to seal him into a tight embrace. Daemon laughs as he stands and meets his sister-in-law halfway, cooing at her as they hug affectionately. He rubs her back, and kisses the top of her head, "aww, my sweet girl, we do not deserve you."

The king is too stunned to do anything but hold his heir.

The embrace lasts a good ten seconds.

"Gods, Dae," Aemma whimpers, "I'm so happy for you."

Viserys is frozen in his spot as he holds Rhaenyra. He looks out to door and calls, "someone! Someone come and bring a maester! My brother is terribly ill! He's in fucking love!"

Aemma and Daemon pull away from each other, chuckling as they did. The former swats Viserys and the latter waves at Rhaenyra, who was looking up at her papa, then idly turned to her uncle.

The king sighs before he turns up to his brother, "well, tell me about her. I would damned die trying to wrap my head around what kind of woman got you so worked up like this."

Aemma watches as Daemon's face lights up. It warmed her heart so dearly to see his good-brother like this.

"I cannot put it into words, Vis, but the moment I saw her," Daemon waves his hands around, "I- it was like... the wind was knocked out of my lungs."

"Gods. The Mother. The Stranger. The Smith," Viserys whimpers, standing from his chair, placing his daughter on the highchair. He pats her bald baby head, "lest I hurl on you, my love."

Aemma is sill very much sobbing. She clutches Daemon's bicep, "so?! When did you meet her?! What's her name? What does she do? What does she look like?! Do you have a photo of her? Show me a photo of her right now!"

Daemon chuckles at her rapid fire questions and grabs her cheek, leaning his forehead onto her. When he pulls away, he places his cherished possession into her hand. Daemon pushes past her and Aemma looks at the small white card with much intrigue.

Daemon feels a tingle run down his spine as he hears Aemma read the name out loud. He steps in front of his brother as his sister-in-law chimes, "she works at a museum and is a professor part time," the woman turns to her husband, "she's an intellectual, Viserys!"

"I'm going to need that ring, brother," Daemon declared.

Viserys turns to Daemon, eyes narrowed in both scrutiny and annoyance by his telltale spoiled attitude, "I can't just get mum's ring. It's in the vault with-"

"It's not in the vault," Daemon asserts, "Rhaenys borrowed it for the recent gala and it's still in the storage chamber here. I was the one that signed off the insurance papers for it to be shipped tomorrow. It's Not. In The Vault."

Viserys sighs and rolls his eyes, "oh, very well, let's get it both."

"I am more than capable of getting it my-"

"No!" Viserys raises a finger in respite, "the last time you were in the storage chamber, you nearly cost both of us our heads with the tragedy you laid upon grandpa's antique pottery."

Daemon takes his turn to rolls his eyes just as Viserys begins to walk off, "I was nigh but 13, you dunce!"

The elder snaps a glare at the younger, "I'm astonished you've convinced yourself that you found any semblance of maturity past that age, demon."

Daemon rolls his eyes again. Aemma calls out, "wait," grabbing her daughter, "we're coming with you." She jogs up to her brother-in-law and hands him back the card. Daemon places it in his pocket, "thank you, my love."

"Lovie," Viserys calls out, "just enjoy your breakfast, we shan't be long," he places his hands on his wife's shoulders.

"Oh, breakfast can wait, this is far more exciting, lovie," Aemma grins.

Viserys is weakened by her and sighs. He presses a kiss on her forehead, "fine. Do you want me to carry Rhaenyra?"

"I've got it, baby," she smiles, leaning into him.

Daemon watches them as they walk off. His stomach is in knots, thinking about how badly he wants that to happen with him and his love this very instant.

Daemon didn't need help to find the ancestral ring. The moment they walked in the chamber, he made a beeline for the object with not a second thought.

He takes the box and opens it, heart leaping into his mouth as he grins from ear to ear. He closes it with a thud and raises it in his hand with an expression of a boy opening gifts in Christmas morn, "I've got it."

Aemma giggles, rocking her baby with excitement, "look, Rhaenyra, uncle Daemon's got a ring."

Rhaenyra looks out inquisitively as her uncle walks over.

Uncle tries, getting on one knee, opening the box, "will you marry me, Rhaenyra?"

Viserys instantly kicks him down, "oh, fuck off, you incipit twat!"

Aemma giggles, as does the struck Daemon, felled on the floor with not a hint of offence.

When he stands, he lunges towards his brother, sealing him into a tight embrace, "you've made me a happy man, Viserys."

Viserys finds it tempting to fight him off and curse his bones, but he had not seen Daemon so sincerely excited and bright in a long while, and so he wraps his arms around him and leans into his touch, patting his back firmly, "alright, you bugger. Now let me see that card this time."

Daemon pulls away with a grin, pulling out the card for the king.

"Oh, let me see a photo of her!" Aemma shakes her hand out.

"I've not had the chance to photograph her," Daemon shakes his head, "don't worry though, I'll bring her home soon enough."

Aemma grins, hugging her daughter tightly. She coos at Rhaenyra and raises her small, soft arm up at Daemon, muttering as though it was the child, herself, speaking,, "and just how soon is soon, uncle?"

Daemon smiles at his niece, "why, this very moment, Rhae-Rhae," he leans in to gently pinch her rosy cheek. He then pulls away to swipe at his wrist, uncovering the watch beneath his dress shirt, "I'm calling her at 11:55."

"EEEK!" Aemma cheers, "Hear that, Rhaenyra? You're going to have an aunt!"

"Damn, Daemon," Viserys lifts his eyes up to his brother, "when did you meet her again.?

Daemon turns to his brother, shoving the box in his pocket. He got what he wanted; there was no need to mask anything. "Last night," he noted, reaching out to retrieve the card from him.

"I'm sorry," Viserys pulls the card away, preventing it from being snatched, "what?"

The prince sniffles, pressing his lips casually together, "I met her at the Blue Ginger last night."

Aemma's face falls into a inwardly concerned and shocked look.

"Give me the-"

Viserys steps back, pulling his arm farther back, "and there it is. There it is!" His neck strains at the intensity of his speech. He scowls at his brother angrily, making Daemon's jovial expression dim into a similar shade.

"So, what?!" Viserys shakes his head, lips curving into annoyance and disgust. "What? You fucked her then-"

"DON'T," Daemon points a finger, "FUCKING talk about her like that!" he seethed, stepping forward, bunching Viserys' shirt.

"Daemon!" Aemma calls out in concern.

Viserys scoffs, eye twitching in anger. He doesn't care that Daemon is staring at him with darkness, ruining his shirt in his fists. He rips the card in his hand into pieces. Daemon releases his brother in shock, face falling, jaw clenching.

"Viserys!" Aemma calls in shock, the same time Daemon barks, "you FUCKER!"

"Give me the ring, Daemon," Viserys commands, snorting, stiff as though he declared war, "I will not allow you to follow through with your frantic idiocy."

"I love her!" Daemon growls, teeth grit in fury.

"You want her!" Viserys corrects, stepping closer, "you've no idea what love is, boy! You want her like you wanted to be king then not!"

Daemon heaves at his brother's chastises.

"You met her yesterday! That is not love!" Viserys snarls, "it is nothing but love sprung from the head of your haughty cock!"

"Viserys!" Aemma cries.

"It is lust, Daemon!" the king proclaimed. He steps back, turning to the torn pieces of paper on the floor. He kicks it, but it barely does anything in affect, "you will not follow through with this madness!"

"You think I've not saved her number, dipshit?" Daemon shudders in anger. He grips the velvet box tightly in his pocket, feeling his body vibrate in hatred, scorn... hurt.

Viserys nearly drops his expression when he sees the glassiness of the prince's eyes.

Aemma's lips part, "Daemon."

"You told me you knew from the moment you saw her," Daemon points to Aemma accusingly before weakly dropping his arm, "that she was for you."

"Daemon," Viserys sounds defeated, "Aemma and I got to know each other for years before getting married," he whispers.

"And I will continue to know her for the rest of my life!" Daemon exclaims.

"Daemon," Viserys and Aemma call at the same time. The latter walks forward, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder, which is sequentially shrugged off. It hurts the queen, but she was kind enough not to push him further. The former sighs, raising his hands questioningly, "no matter how visceral it felt, no matter how drawn you were to meet her," the elder Targaryen states carefully, "you cannot be sure of-"

"I HAVE NEVER BEEN-" Daemon wails, desperate like a cat surrounded by water. His voice nearly breaks when he continues, "more sure of anything EVER-" he heaves, annoyed by the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. He shudders sharply, "not since the day mother died."

The tone in the room shifts drastically.

Daemon looks at his brother with pleading eyes as he recounts the memory, "I told you she... I told you she was dead that night, I told you I felt it in my bones, and you told me not to worry," tears finally streak down his cheeks, "we both woke up to father's ghost of a face."

Viserys remembers the day well. He remembers how adamant and frantic his little brother was that night. He had done his best to pacify him. Yet that morning it was he that was pacified by Daemon.

The king does a good job concealing his perceived weakness to his brother, he holds back tears he was to cry out, as the boy continues to plead his case.

"What's the point of waiting years, delaying something I am certain I desire now?"

"Daemon," Viserys says, almost helplessly, "you are a prince. You cannot marry on a whim and leave-"

"I will not LEAVE her!" Daemon erupts. He cannot take it anymore. He begins to fume, chest rising and falling quickly, "there was once a time when a prince was allowed to execute his wishes-"

"AND I AM THE KING!" Viserys bangs on his chest as he screams. He begins to heave just like his sibling, face succumbed to disdain. He raises his hand up to him, "give me the ring, Daemon."

Aemma feels her heart hurt at the sight of them. She feels her heart hurt especially because Daemon's face was wholly sullen, a complete contrast to what it was a while ago.

Daemon's face is blank. His defenses were up. Whatever brightness in hin was now gone.

"Is that a command, my king?" the second born utters under his breath.

The king thinks. He is tempted to say it, to do what he promised his baby brother he never would, exert his sovereignty over him. His chest constricts, his brows knit, his eyes begin to water. He cannot do that to him.

"It is a plea from your older brother, Daemon."

Daemon rolls his shoulders back. He holds back the quiver of his lips, "why should I listen to my hateful brother's plea when he did not listen to mine?"

"Daemon," Aemma calls, herself now overcome with emotion.

The said man walks away, pushing past them.

Viserys heaves. He watches his brother turn his back on him. He begins to flare with abhorrence and offence, "DAEMON!"

The prince does not listen as he walks away, storming out the storage chamber, slamming the doors on his way out. He mutters strings of High Valyrian curses as he roughly wipes his face on his sleeve.

Daemon soothes himself by remembering that Viserys was a rat, a gremlin, unadulterated rubbish, his absolute nemesis since time immemorial. He was difficult and cruel and irritating and selfish. He loathed him.

His eye twitches, his walking slows. Cunt. He hates himself for caring so much about him. Fuck him.

When Daemon gets to the garage, he wills the memory of choosing and purchasing the silver Benz with his rat brother in the very hell depths of his mind. He leans on the hood, his blonde hair falls on his face.

He'll turn around.

He snorts, wiping his philtrum.

He always turns around... he has to.

He pulls out his phone, blinking away the tears. He cusses when he sees that it was 10 am. There was no way he would get to the other side of town in time.

He gets in his car and drives off. He merely pulls over a few minutes before 11:55 to make good his promise.

Meanwhile hours before this incident, on the other side of the town, there was a heart as sulking just the same.

I had not gotten a lick of sleep in anticipation of this moment. I was hunched over on my desk, watching my screen, heart jumping every time the clock blinked with a new number.

"I got the One Eye comment again," a voice huffs as he walks into the office room, "people think they're so smart and original," his voice rises when he continues, "you told me I didn't look ridiculous with this on."

I straighten from where I stood, bent over, then turn to my side, catching the light haired intern, rip off his eye patch and slam it onto his desk. He roughly dusts off his jumper and pants for no reason other than annoyance.

I raise my brows at him and pout, "someone as handsome as you cannot ever look ridiculous, Aemond," I slump back down on my desk. I mutter, half-muffled, "it runs in the family."

Aemond rolls his eye, regretting it with the damned sty in the left one throbbed with pain. He huffs turning to me, pointing a finger, "you need to stop calling my damned brother pretty boy. He's starting to believe it."

I snort as my lips spread into a smile, "that's good; he is."

Aemond walks over to me, sardonic as ever, "historians aren't supposed to distort the truth, professor."

I stand, looking at his angular face, taking in his how the strands of his shoulder length hair, tied in a small bun, framed his sharp cheeks and jaw, how his pouty lips were curved into that of disdain. He was adorable, just like he was as a child when I met him perchance.

"Don't you teach me, kid," I narrow my eyes and purse my lips, "you're one failed review away from repeating the whole term."

Aemond is unfazed as he crosses his arms, "mmm, another term with a certainty to be had under your wing sounds delightful."

I roll my eyes, "Aemond."

Said Aemond's lips curl into a soft smile, enjoying the fact my words backfired on itself.

"We've been through this, my dear," I place my hands on his toned shoulders, "you're nervous about nothing. There's not a reason for you not to get hired here after you've graduated."

He hums again, relaxing against my touch, "and what of the failing mark my beloved teacher threatens to lay upon me?"

I huff as I pull away from him, drawing back my desk chair and plopping down, "you know I don't work like that, pretty boy."

Aemond clenches his jaw, "don't call me that."

I turn to him, resting my elbows on my desk, "why not? I think you're pretty too."

He turns away, thinking about his sty, thinking about how his breath hitched when he first met his beloved teacher, thinking about his brother, Aegon, made you laugh where he made things awkward in your first meeting, "that's the oaf's nickname. I do not want it."

I follow him with my eyes as he storms off, grabbing his eye patch, putting it back on. He then walks back behind me to finish labeling the books stacked there.

"Is it so bad to share a nickname with your brother?" I ask.

"Yes," he quickly blurts. Aemond doesn't waste another moment and grabs a book a lot rougher than normal.

I turn away from him, dejected by his ire. I grab my phone, seeing the time was 11:49. I brace my arms in front of me and lean down, sighing.

I repeat this process over and over and over and over and-

Aemond, who had been witness to it, finally asks, "what are you sighing about?"

"I'm waiting for a call."

"Mmm," he shifts on his place and presses his hand on a book, "is it from the Maester's Association?"

"No."

"Septa's Guild?

"No."

Aemond raises a brow, "they what are you so restless about?"

I check the clock for the nth time, heart leaping when I see it's 11:53. I straighten in my seat and begin to fix my hair. I clear my throat and do some nonsensical sounds to warm up my voice.

Aemond forgets about his task altogether and turns to me. His brows knit and he leans on the table, "who exactly are you waiting to call you, professor?"

I breathe in deeply, checking the time again. 11:54. I cradle my phone in my hand as though it is my lifeline.

"The love of my life."

Aemond straightens up, stiffening and deflating all at once. His face tenses so tightly, the sty irritates him again. For a moment, he is overcome with a bitterness in his throat. He thinks of his brother again-- but that can't be.

He clenches his jaw and relaxes. He thinks about how loosely that term is used when uttered upon his beloved professor's lips. He relaxes completely, releasing a breath. He turns back to his books, calming himself with his breathing.

He wonders out loud, "Alicent?"

Aemond thinks his guess to be right. After all, his cousin, your many times over research partner, had been in Essos for weeks for a riveting symposium. He was perplexed why you hadn't expressed the same enthusiasm in going there, considering the fact there was a dragon skeleton recently unearthed there, apparently Caraxes' no less. He did not buy the fact you weren't interested in the dig site at least, knowing how you were obsessed with his rider, Daemon Targaryen I.

"No, not Ali," I mutter, shaking my head.

Aemond thinks of another one of his professor's research partners besides Alicent.

I mutter softly, "someone else... you don't know him."

Him?

"... well," I chuckle, "I suppose you do."

Aemond is now utterly confused.

My heart nearly stops when my phone clock strikes 11:55.

Aemond once again forgets about his work upon hearing the gasp. He awaits the sound of the phone ringing.

The seconds passing are dreadfully unbearable. I count each and every one of them. By the time I reach 34, I begin to feel bile rise up my throat.

Dear gods, he forgot about me. He forgot about me, and he's not going to call. How silly of him to even promise such a thing. He's probably caught up in doing his princely politicking. Hell, I wouldn't even remember-

I gasp again, dropping the phone when it began to vibrate and ring. I choke on my breath, my hands fumble, my shoulders tense, my mind is racing.

Aemond watches this intently, how the most poised and composed person in his life began to break down like a tower of unglued blocks. He watches as his professor stares blankly at the ringing phone.

"Answer it," he urges, stepping forward once.

His voice wasn't even loud nor demanding, yet I still start at it. I nod my head profusely then scramble for my phone. I quickly gain my wits and answer the call.

I press the screen against my ear, carefully calling, "hello?"

"Hello? Hello! Hi! Hi, my love!"

Daemon sound ecstatic, relieved. My jaw is parts into a smile. I am heaving heavily through my mouth as my stomach swirls and my chest tightens. I grip on my elbow, breathlessly replying, "hi."

"Hi! Hi. Right. I'm pulled over in the side of the highway-"

"What?" I jolt from my seat. Aemond jolts as well. "W-wh-why? Are you hurt? Did something happen? What highway are you on? Should I call-"

"Hush, love," he chuckles, "lykiri," he hushes, calm down in High Valyrain, and continues in the same tongue, "calm down. I am well," he breaks into a soft laugh, "oh, my dear, my darling, I only pulled over to make good on my promise to call you at 11:55."

I release a breath of relief. I relax my shoulders, nodding my head, muttering mostly to myself, "on the dot."

I can almost hear him smile from across the line, "yes, my sweet girl... though a few seconds passed," he chuckles, "I hope you do not fault me for it."

"Never," I lean my head into my hand, releasing shaky breath. My breathing is shallow and my eyes flutter close.

My sweet girl. It was been so long since I heard his voice utter these words. A dam of memories break open and my mind floods with memories of him calling me this; it's all very tender, like an open wound. Tears begin to strain in my eyes and my throat constricts with a tight band of emotion.

"Are you crying?" Aemond mutters lowly that even he doesn't hear it.

"I reckon I'll be there in about 10 minutes, give or take," Daemon sounds guilty when he says this, "I'm sorry to make you wait, my pretty girl, but you can wait a few more minutes for your prince, can't you?"

I shudder out his name, biting my lip tightly for a moment, trying to even out my breath so he doesn't catch the sound of my sobbing, "10 minutes is inconsequential to how long I have been waiting for you."

He takes a moment to respond. I hear him sigh, "I couldn't sleep last night thinking of you either."

"You're the only thing I've ever thought about," I whisper like a secret, afraid to wipe the tears on my cheeks away, in fear of smearing my makeup.

He laughs at the admission. It is smug and self-indulgent, but it is unlike the other times I've heard him laugh conceitedly. At its core, Daemon sounded relieved, he sounded touched.

"I am glad to hear it," he openly affirmed, "I will come to you soon. Nothing will keep us apart."

His words squeeze my heart, my very soul, my being. I mutter softly, "drive safe."

"I will, my love."

My breath hitches. I lick my lips in preparation, but then I stop myself. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say-

"I love you," I sigh.

A beat of silence passes.

Part of me feels foolish when I am met with only ambient noise. I don't regret saying it at all though. I punish my lower lip tightly with a bite that draws out blood, but then I release it in shock when he calls back.

"I love you," he says, "wait for me."

The call ends.

The moment I put my phone down, Aemond is upon me. He gently takes my arm and words my name out carefully. He doesn't say anything else. He seemed not to know what else he could.

I turn to the tall man, one eye covered, strands of silvery hair still haphazardly framing his face. He adjusts his hold on me when I reach out to his arms, gripping the fabric of his jumper, not so much him. He has his hands on both my arms and he looks down at me with concern, speaking my name once more.

I turn away from him, blinking rapidly as it all sinks in, "it's finally happening."

"What is?" Aemond asks, almost helplessly, quite unlike his usually certain demeanor.

I turn back to him, lifting my chin to meet his gaze, releasing my clutch on his top, jumping into him to seal him into a tight embrace. He is taken aback by my sudden haptics, but immediately hugs be back.

"I'm finally going to have him."

"Have," he coaxes slowly as he bends to offer me more stability on my feet, "him?" Aemond voice strains, "who are you talking about?"

"My love," I break away, blinking tears as I look back at Aemond. There is a line of worry on his face, but I could not bring myself to offer him but only a quick caress of his cheeks as comfort and reassurance. I pull away, fanning myself, "dear goodness, I have to get ready."

I dash to my desk, swiping my bag, immediately running toward the bathroom.

Aemond could do nothing but watch and rack his brain trying to make sense of it all. He is so perplexed by it that he thinks of calling his brother for answers. In his lack of better judgement, he dials the contact and his phone begins to ring.

Aegon on the other line barely croaks a tired hello and Aemond is already demanding answers, "you were with her at the Blue Ginger last night, correct?"

There is a moment of silence. There was no need for clarification for Aegon to understand what the seven hells his younger brother was on about.

Daemon arrives at the museum, in his black three piece, black trilby, and dark red shades. He adjusts his glasses. For once in his life is damned annoyed by his unmissably strong presence.

Immediately, this steward walks over to him, her eyes roving all over, brows raised in inquisition. He doesn't let her speak to him, a finger raise is enough to silence her. He states that he had business with a professor and asks where he could find her.

He wastes no more time than necessary, heading off to the direction he was given.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, paying no heed to the people who spot and gawk at him, wondering louder than they should about who exactly he was. He makes his way upstairs and goes down the hall as he was told.

His cool composure is completely destroyed when he sees the person standing at the end.

"Daemon," I mutter sparing not a second's thought as I run over to him, not caring that I was in heels, or in a dress, or even that my perfectly restyled hair was being ruined.

Tears begin to prick at my eyes all over again. After all my talk in front of the mirror not to ruin my redone makeup, I couldn't bring myself to care in this moment.

Daemon strides over to me, quickening into a jog as he removes his hat and sunglasses, sighing heavily as his lips curve into a smile. He outstretches his arms in anticipation.

Aemond, catching the quick blur from the window, stops what he is doing and runs outside.

Quickly, and all at once, I am upon him.

Our chests collide with a thud, our limbs wrap around each other tightly. We bury ourselves into each other's necks, basking in the affection, in the scent of each other, in the warmth.

I cannot help but sob onto him.

He instinctively hushes me, lifting me off my feet as he does, "hush, little one, I am here. I am here. Lykiri."

I pathetically sob into his collar, "I missed you so much."

Daemon tightens his grip on me. He mutters in High Valyrian, "I missed you like I've been waiting a thousand years."

I choke as I brush my nose against him, "2000."

When he tries to pull away, I nearly scream in protest, "please don't pull away! Please."

Daemon sighs and leans down, allowing me to stand on my feet. He was so familiar to me, so much so I recognized his impeding action. I felt him brush his hands down to my waist. I knew exactly what he was going to do. I jump when he bends to grab me, carrying me into his arms. I tightly wrap my legs around his waist and nuzzle against him. Daemon cradles my thighs and nuzzles all the same.

Aemond had seen enough from the end of the hall at this point. He regrets spending his free time doing errands as he waited for his professor. He keeps his gaze on the floor as he quickly makes his way down the hall to leave, somewhere far-- as far as his legs would take him. He is all but ignored as the heavily infatuated couple pass him.

"My office is the last one," I mutter against Daemon's neck, eyes closed, finger tips massaging his scalp.

I open my eyes to check if he got the right room. He did.

A part of me is concerned when I do not see my favorite apprentice. The thought quickly evaporates when I am propped on a desk and hungrily kissed.

I moan on instinct when our lips connect. I readily return his fervor just as hungrily. My heart is thundering in my ribcage as his large hands rub up and down my back. I pull him closer, tightening my legs around him, tugging at the roots of his hair. He moans. Gods I've missed that sound.

I pull away from him when his hands trail down my thighs, attempting to hike my skirt up.

"Daor, ñuha zaldrīzes," I mutter softly, placing my hands atop his.

No, my dragon.

Daemon pulls back and huffs heavily, the heat of his breath brings goosebumps on my skin. He looks down at me, violet eyes blown, lips stained with my lipstick, a predator, made tame only by the call of his mate.

He kneads at my flesh, leaning closer, brushing his nose against mine, "I promise you'll like it," he leans deeper between my legs, "I'll make it quick, so no one sees," he steals a kiss on my lips, "you were made for my eyes only."

I wrap my arms around his torso, leaning into his chest as I shake my head in disagreement, "Daor, ñuha zaldrīzes," I repeat in his mother tongue, continuing all the same, "I don't want to rush you. I want to savor you completely and recount every inch of you."

He curses in the same language, calling out my name like a prayer, He kisses me deeply.

Daemon pulls back to bring his lips on my cheek, my jaw, my neck, then the back of my hand. He rubs my knuckles as he takes me in. I bring one hand to his cheek, in utter disbelief that I had him here with me finally, that he was here, right in front of me.

My spirit leaves me when he gets on his knee and pulls out a box from his pocket.

"Daemon-"

"Never before have I ever felt such feelings for anything, for anyone," Daemon looks up at me with wide violet eyes as he slowly opens the box. I stare at the large emerald cut ruby. It was as red as blood, as clear as day.

He speaks my name, like he burned it into his tongue, like it is the most scared sound in the world, "gaomagon nyke se greatest rigle hen becoming ñuha ābrazȳrys."

My lips part and my chest inflates and deflates.

Do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife.

He didn't even ask.

In the intensity of it all, my quivering lips curve at his words. My nostrils flare in amusement.

How very Daemon of him.

I slide down to my feet and reach out to him. He takes my hand with a hopeful look. My hand lands back on his cheek. He moves to pull the ring out as he grabs the palm on his face. "No, Daemon," is all it takes for him to crumble before me. I push the jewel back in its place and close the box.

Daemon's brows furrow as he watches me pull the wheeled desk chair back and sit there before him.

The prince's eyes and cheeks are wet with tears. The sight is soul destroying.

He clenches his jaw as he places his hands on my thighs, shifting down on both his knees, "why not?" He asks this so helplessly that it strikes a chord in my heart because it sounded so much like his cries, at least the ones that I heard in my last moments before coming back to life, seeing he traded his breath for mine.

I grab his face, shaking my head as I lean towards him, "I am yours, Daemon.; before you were even born, I was yours. Nothing in this world, old or new, will ever change that."

"Then why would you," he heaves a moment to catch his breath, hanging his head low, "deny me this?"

"Daemon, look at me," I call, lifting his head up, "this magic between us," I speak carefully, "this will never change. My heart has broken a million times, but you have remained my beacon of light.

His face scrunches, he shakes his head. I can tell there is a veil of confusion covering his mind and yet he is trying to understand.

I cup his cheeks, "that may not have changed, but the world has. I do not wish to cause you strife where strife should not be welcome. The world is looking at you now, more than ever before."

He clenches his jaw, "I don't fucking care how many worlds watch me while I shit," his nostrils flare, "I want you, I need you, I l-"

He looks physically pained when he stops himself from continuing.

"Daemon," I uttered, "tell me, what did Viserys say about this?"

Daemon recoils. A shiver runs down his spine as his face hardens with betrayal. His hands grip my wrists tightly, "it nary matters what my brother thinks-- he doesn't think, he only tells me what to do."

"My love," I frown, "the king only acts the way he does in his care for you."

"You know NOTHING of my brother!" he snarls, face reddening in rage, shoving my hands off him, "do not come to me all sage about him."

I withdraw from him, straightening in my chair, sighing as I place my hands on my lap, "you can bare your teeth at me all you want, but your fangs are cannot pierce me. You are a toothless babe in my eyes."

Daemon's cheeks twitches. His breath struggles. He drops the box on the floor with little care. I internally cringe at the sound of it.

"Daemon," I huff, "I know you only want the approval of your brother," I add, lowering my head to him, "I know it hurt you when he forbade you to go through with your plan."

He looks away, tears steaking his cheeks. He levels his breathing. He releases his tension and sinks on his knees. He doesn't look at me when he pulls me close to him by my calves and drops his head on my thighs. I feel dampness pool on my clothes. I begin to comb through his blonde hair. He grabs at my skirt helplessly, "he thinks me a fool, the king... a puppet, desperately in need of a puppet master."

"You know that's not true," I respond in High Valyrian.

"How do you know!?" Daemon lifts his head, hands taking mine tightly. His voice is shrill, it's defensive and challenging. And yet he repeats the same words, "how do you know?" voice soft, wondering and desperate.

I rub his wrist with my thumbs, "it will take more than my lunch break for me to explain it."

Daemon straightens up, immediately concerned, "no. No, you cannot leave me. You cannot make me leave. I-"

"I'm not leaving you," I grasp him tightly, "and I will never make you leave," I continue in High Valyrian, "no one said anything about leaving."

Daemon clenches his jaw, he shifts his hands in mine, linking our fingers together. He desperately adds in his mother tongue, "I will die if you do not become my bride."

I cannot help the chuckle that leaves me when I hear his words. I tighten my grip on him, then feel a foreign object on his pinkie. I turn to his hand and see the iron ring on it. My breath hitches. It is the exact same ring he had before. What a marvel that it's intact after millennia.

I pull away my hands. Daemon starts, not liking the idea of losing contact. His settles slightly when gaze turns to where mine was and he sees me pull the ring off his finger.

"Hen lantoti ānogar, v sȳndroti vāedroma," I start, slipping the ancient piece of jewelry bearing his family's sigil on my ring finger, "mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr," I look up to him, "izulī ampā perzī,--"

"--prūmī lanti sēteksi, hen jenȳ māzīlarion," Daemon joins, expression perking, "qēlossa ozūndesi, sȳndroro ōñō jēdo," he brings his hands to my cheeks and leans his head against mine, "rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi."

Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass, the stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.

I gasp when Daemon's lips crashes into mine. His hands dart down to my hind, pulling me close to him, trapping his body between my legs once more.

We only break away in desperation for air.

"We are wed," I mutter, pressing another kiss upon his, "here and now I am your bride and you are my groom. We are wed. The gods are our witnesses." I brush my nose against his, closing my eyes, "the wedding can wait, but from now on you are mine."

"Mine," he repeats, lips curving upward, "my bride," Daemon brushes my hair back, "I would die if I ever witness your pretty finger naked of my ring." He takes my ring clad hand, kissing the skin at the back.

"Please," I shake my head, "stop with that talk," I mutter, brows furrowing, "I forbid you from doing anything that would ever lead you to death. I will not know what to do with myself if I lose you all-"

I am cut off when Daemon crushes me into a tight embrace. I relax against him, tightening my arms around him.

"You will not escape me," Daemon mutters, sinking his face in the crook of my neck, "you will never evade me. I will be your air, your ground, your thoughts, your dreams."

My stomach is in a flurry. My head is swimming in everything that is him.

"My love," he sighs, "my wife," he finishes his thoughts in High Valyrian, "there would be no world worth living if I do not have you."

I cannot help the tears that fall onto his neck. I kiss his skin and sigh in content, "I am so happy that you found me, my dragon."

"As am I," he hums, "and I will never lose you ever again."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon angst #daemon targaryen angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon au #modern!daemon #modern!aegon #aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon fluff #aegon angst #aegon targaryen fluff #aegon targaryen angst #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #modern!aemond

[enh4s]

Tinder Date

╰┈➤ genre: smut

╰┈➤ pairing: tinder date! heeseung, female reader

╰┈➤ warnings: smutty smut, minors please leave this page asap, breeding, degrading kink, spitting kink, fingering, y/n is on birth control

╰┈➤ words: about 1900

╰┈➤ authors note: it's my first time posting a full one shot here so don't judge me too much kudasai?? you can request anything you want me to write about, inbox is open 🫶 I know I'm not the best creator on this planet but yeah I'm just doing it for fun, also if there's any grammar mistake which is possible, I'm sorry for that but English isn't my first language T_T have a nice time reading it tho!

Just an hour till you finally meet this boy you’ve met on tinder two weeks ago. At the first sight, you knew that this boy is DEFINITELY your type. His black hair, beautiful smile, and the smirk he got on one of those pics made your imagination run. 

Your phone buzzed and you instantly watched the screen.

Heeseung: Hey princess, I’ll be at your place in 30 minutes if it’s okay with you?

Fuck, boy, it was okay. You brushed your hair and finished your makeup, so you could sit on your bed and think about him a little longer. These two weeks of just texting were incredible, you had a lot of topics to talk about, he was the type of gentleman, but also had that flirty side you loved. You blushed at your phone as a young girl with her first crush, just because he said you look beautiful in a picture you’ve sent him.

You were about to go with him just for a trip around the city, maybe to take a walk around one of the amusement parks next to the city.

Your phone buzzed again. 

Heeseung: I’m here, come downstairs, beautiful girl ;)

You quickly put on shoes, and walked down to see him. 

He was really standing there, in front of his matte black car, with one hand in the pocket of his jeans, and the other one holding a rose for you.

You blushed again at the little gift. He gave you a warm hug, before he opened the car door for you. 

He sat next to you.

-So, beautiful, what amusement park do you want to visit today? I was thinking about having ice cream near the city, what do you think? -he asked.

You were amazed by his in-real-life look. He was even more handsome than these pictures and videos he sent.

You shake your head, asking.

-What? -you felt kind of stupid now, but it wasn’t your fault your tinder date happened to be the god like figure named Lee Heeseung.

He definitely knew what he was doing before he used the perfumes that everyone can smell from kilometers. 

He gave you a small laugh, before he asked again.

-I asked where do you want to go princess, because I’m in the mood for an ice cream date.

You just nodded your head before he laughed again. 

He loved the way you were shy and nervous all of the sudden when he met your eyes. 

Heeseung played some chill music and the adventure started.

He looked so handsome while driving, fully focused on the road, but had enough time to hold your thigh.

When you finally were at the planned spot, he again opened the door for you. 

You felt more relaxed after spending time in the car with him. You both again started to talk a lot, just like you texted each other. He bought ice cream for you as planned. Such a good start to the date. 

You can’t get your eyes out of him, so does he. It was the chemistry you needed to feel with someone. 

-It’s getting late, and you have to go to work tomorrow, why shouldn’t I drive you home? -He asked with a little smirk on his face.

-Yeah, that would be really nice of you. -You answered, winking at him.

You knew you wanted to do it. In your bed. Or in the kitchen. Or even on the floor. Or in his car… You felt the sexual tension which was built between you two. 

You were walking back to the car, next to each other. His hand casually wrapped around your waist. There were only you two, a dark parking lot, and a few lanterns next to the road. 

When you finally went inside, you opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you. 

-Hey, are you cold? Your hands are all red. I told you the evenings are colder now. -He said, scolding you a little bit. 

-Maybe you told me something like this, but maybe I did it on purpose so you can make me warm now? -You answered, kissing your teeth. 

-So you want me to tell you that you're a bad girl? -He asked with a questioning face, even if he already knew the answer. 

-Heeseung, make me warm, now. 

He didn't think about it twice. The date was amazing, so it deserved an even better ending. He pulled you for a deep, sloppy kiss. 

You were so needy for him. Since you first saw him on this dating app you promised to yourself you'll never open again, you knew you needed him. The quick sexting chats you did with him was on another level. You wanted him to destroy you.

-It was so long since I had sex. -You whispered between the kisses. 

-Oh, so this is your way to make yourself warm? Acting like a slut in a stranger's car? 

He was now incredibly close, your head on the window, you opened your legs for him to get a better access. He could now see your panties because of the skirt you were wearing.

-Someone's love to be treated like a princess and then being railed? -He pointed at the wet stain formed between your legs. 

You wanted to scream, to beg him to do something with the mess your pussy made.

-Heeseung, please, just… -You moaned, when he pushed your panties to the side, exploring your folds. 

-You're so fucking wet. Were you like this for the past two weeks? We should meet earlier then. I didn't know you're that horny to feel my dick inside of you. 

You made a loud moan when he slid one of his fingers inside. They were so long, so slender, so perfect to reach your perfect spots. 

You opened your legs even more, pushing yourself deeper on his finger. 

He held your leg to make it more comfortable for you, while he decided to add another one finger inside. 

You were a moaning mess on the passenger seat, in the parking lot, where everyone could hear you. But it was too good to even care about it. You loved every single second this boy fingered you. 

He curled his fingers, and did a few more pushes. You were only louder and louder, digging your nails into his arm. 

-It's too early to cum, little slut. Wants me to mark you as my own, am I right? Now mouth open, princess. 

You did as he wished. You showed him your tongue, with half closed eyes, deep breathing was heard between soft whimpers. 

He closes his face to yours, now only millimeters were between you. You looked right into his eyes, they darkened while watching your fucked up face. He moved his hand to your neck, casually tightening the grip. 

Suddenly you felt his saliva on your tongue, going down to your chin. 

-I forgot to tell you that you have to swallow it all. Not even a single drop can go out of your pretty lips. You can just imagine you're swallowing my cum right now, because today it's not what I'll give to you. 

You nodded your head, waiting for him to spit into your mouth once again. He did. But your tongue was too far, to swallow it all in one take. That one, single drop, moved under your lips. 

He slapped your face and how awful it would be in someone's eyes, you loved it. You loved the way he treated you right now, and how he treated you three hours ago. Find a man who can do both, they said. 

-You're fucking dripping right now. You really like it when someone's treats you like a dumb fuck doll, huh? 

He slapped your pussy and you made the loudest whimper you could at that time. 

He did it a few more times before he pulled you again for a kiss. 

The words can't explain how needy and erotic this kiss was. You felt like a porn star in this scene. If this was recorded, you could be a millionaire right now. 

You reached to his belt, finally unzipping his jeans. He helped you by bucking his hips up. You did it with his boxers as well. 

You couldn't wait any longer for him, so did he. He helped you climb on him, stroking his dick a few times before he pulled his dick inside. 

You were definitely not ready for how big he was, letting a small cry escape your lips. 

He pushed his whole dick inside of you, but not moving for a minute to let you adjust to his size. You were kissing the whole time, he let you decide when you were ready for him to fuck you. 

You moved your ass up and down with your eyes rolled back to your head. His hand slapped your butt, while another one was choking you. 

Your clit was so sensitive, so every touch with his abdomen made you crazy. 

-What a little doll, so needy, huh? You love my dick don't you? I knew you'll be in heaven. Don't stop baby doll, cum when I'm inside. I want you to clench around me like a good slut you are. 

He tightens the grip on your neck even harder. Your vision was blurry now, your legs were only weaker and weaker. 

When he saw that, he let your neck free, so you could finally catch a proper breath. You choke on the sudden feeling of air again, despite the only smell you could get in this car was the smell of sex and his perfumes. 

He was now fucking you so you could have kind of rest, bouncing your ass on his length. 

You felt your orgasm coming, when he hit your g-spot a few times. 

-Fuck, Heeseung, I'm..  I'm gonna cum, can I? Please, don't fucking stop, fuck, please, make me cum.

-What a desperate little thing. Cum for me baby doll. You were so good for me, letting me not go easy on you. 

You reached your high after his words, digging your nails incredibly hard on his back, hugging him like you were scared he's gonna leave you when you cum with him inside.

You clenched really well around him, giving him even more friction. He loved how warm and thigh you were. He could fuck you for hours, he already imagined where you can do it next time. 

-Heeseung, cum inside of me. Please. Please do it. I want to feel your cum inside. -You begged. You begged him to do it and you wished he would agree to do that. 

And he did. He did his final thrusts, exploding inside of you. His groans were so hot, like music to your ears. 

You were breathing so loud that you could wake up a corpse. 

He moved your hair behind your ear, and kissed you, more romantically this time. 

-I didn't know you'd really love calling you a slut that much. -He laughed, pulling his dick out of you. 

The white sperm was draining from your hole, and you wished this moment would last forever.

-I did. Thank you for that, Heeseung. -You smiled shyly.

-Don't be shy beautiful girl, you weren't that shy 5 minutes ago. -He winked. 

-Now we're really going home, I think you're warm enough now. -He continued. 

You were too tired to even respond, so you collapsed on the passenger seat. 

He was driving you home and looked at your sleeping figure in his car, smiling to himself. He was definitely planning the second date.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypensmut #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #smut #lee heesung x reader #heeseung hard hours

[merakiui]

meraa i've had this thought and i need to tell someonee!! i can't stop thinking siscon deuce who wasn't one before until he decided to change his ways and become a better son for his mom and he just comes to this realization that you're so cute and funny and sweet and so nice and he hates how he used to be so mean to you just bc your dad married his mom and he suddenly got a new step sister when he was used to being the only child for so long. and as he starts to get to know you more and spend more time with you he starts to become. a little weird abt you.. he likes to be close to you, so close that he can smell the scent you're wearing or your shampoo.. hates when guys look at you when they talk to you, hates when ace talks to you specifically he just wants to turn into his past delinquent self and beat him up but you wouldn't like that would you? and him trying extra hard in track so when you come to visit him and watch him win you can hug him and he can feel your body pressed against his and maybe give him a kiss on his cheek and tell him you're proud of him as his face starts to turn red.. his uniform is so tight he hopes you don't feel his bulge growing in his shorts (if you do then he doesn't mind.. he wants you to feel him just as much as he wants to feel you) he's just so weird abt you.. talks to his dorm mates abt you and shows them pictures but gets so jealous when they say you're pretty? he knows but he hates other ppl thinking that (even tho he literally showed them pics of you?) but he also hates when someone says you "aren't that pretty" trey literally has to hold him back from attacking the person who said that before riddle comes and uses off with your head on him.. his entire dorm already knows he's weird abt you but they don't know how weird he actually is.. he has pics of you on his wall but they just pass it off as nothing too extreme just a brother missing his only step sister.. but what they don't know is he literally steals your panties when he visits home, sniffs them and jacks off with them over his face.. humps his pillow as he looks at a picture of you on his wall.. he has a secret gallery in his phone of pics he secretly took of you asleep or you getting changed while you weren't aware.. you just make him feel so!! he gets so clingy and needy and whiny when he goes back home on vacation and he see's you again.. he wants to make up for all the lost time he spent being mean to you in your and his early youth so he asks to sleepover in your bedroom so you can be close and make up for that time.. he's literally all over you and hides his face in your neck when he sleeps bc he needs to just keep inhaling your scent!! he's constantly touching all over your body but you just pass it off as him missing you! and it makes you so happy bc your step brother who used to be so mean is suddenly so nice and wants to be around and spend time with you! you make him so crazy and one of these days he'll show you how he actually feels but until then he'll just keep his thoughts and fantasies of you to himself..

anyways idkk idkk he has such siscon vibes omfgjsj i'm just rambling pls forgive i just need to let this thought outt i'm so srry for bothering you!! </33

AAAAAAA ANON, THIS IS SO !!!!!! Siscon Deuce......... orz and maybe you're the only girl he can actually talk to because he's normally so awkward around other girls his age. T_T and the fact that he'd definitely keep you away from Ace because he just knows Ace will try to rizz you up with his sleazy, little card tricks and flirty tone... waaaa he just wants to keep his step-sis safe from all of these troublesome guys!!!! He went from bullying you in his delinquent era to now wanting to protect you and stand up for you if anyone gives you trouble, and he cares about you so much (too much). All of his roommates think it's a little strange that he seems to idolize you so much, showing off pictures of you as if you're his girlfriend. And Great Seven, Deuce wishes you were his girlfriend. >_< if only...

He wants to be a guy you can feel proud of, a smart, kind, protective step-brother who gets good grades and stays out of trouble. Deuce still remembers all of the times he made you cry. He was so mean to you, pulling your hair or stealing your snacks or making fun of you over the smallest of things... he's going to do better from now on so that he'll never be the reason you cry again! And even if he is the reason, it'll be tears of pleasure when he's rutting into you and kissing you over and over to stifle your cute cries and moans. <3

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: stepcest #ace calls him a siscon and deuce is ready to beat the life out of him >:( #but also ace is like 'your sis can't be *all that*' and so deuce hesitantly shows him a picture of you #and suddenly ace is like 'wait never mind i completely understand why you're down bad for her because WOW' #now ace is crushing on you orz

[c0ffinshit]

Smut/Romantic Headcanons: Nathan Bratt

a/n: hey guys, i’m actually working on a longer fic about nathan but its taking WAY longer than i wanted so have this to tie you over im sorry T_T

warnings: smut (duh), nathan being a switch and a bit of a slut

- okay so like this man claims to not be a romantic but literally WAKES UP AND BREATHES ROMANTIC

- if you get in a fight with him, he will write you a note about how sorry he is and buy a bouquet of your favorite flowers

- also GUILTY. HE WILL FEEL SO GUILTY ABOUT THE FIGHT.

- this man needs to be reassured 24/7

- he is also a bit clingy

- like that man has a DEATH GRIP if you try and leave the bed while cuddling

- he is a hand holder

- like any chance he gets, he will hold that hand!!!!

- also great kisser

- like i know i say that a lot but like I MEAN THIS TIME

- his lips are so soft 24/7 and he does that thing when you two make up where he licks your bottom lip AUGHHH

- he will let you take his glasses and wear them (that man is blind without them but he still thinks its cute)

- okay this is a general hc but like whatever: this man doesn’t get modern lingo and you MAY abuse that

- “babe, wtf does that even mean???” (him after hearing the word ‘rizz’ for the first time)

- for dates, he loves staying in and watches movies or reading books/doing puzzles

- this man is chronically chill but also a ball of anxiety

- he is very confused about a lot of things

- his love language is gift giving even tho this man is canonically broke as HELL.

- will probably include you in a story and be super proud of it, like a child who just completed their macaroni art

- also he has two wolves inside of him: one named adhd, the other named autism

- he may not be into talking about his feelings because he is a bit of a cryer

- he cries a lot

- like at anything, anywhere

- he’s just a soft man who needs a hug T_T

smutty headcanons under the cut

- this man is a switch in denial who has a praise kink

- he’s like “yeah i get hard when call me a good boy and to get on my knees but im still the top!”

- which like when he is on top, that man is ON TOP

- he um may or may not be um into hair pulling

- that man is condescending and RUTHLESS when he tops

- “awe, i bet you’ll be a good girl now.”

- three words: PINING YOU DOWN.

- he is sensitive in all the right places

- like his jawline— if you kiss or touch his jawline, he will purr

- im serious. this man purrs and whimpers. i don’t make the rules.

- begging. he is into you begging and begging for you.

- if you come over to his house in just his shirt and booty shorts, he will tear it off you and fuck you like its his last day on earth

- when he isn’t being a top, he is a SLUT for you

- doing anything and everything if it means it will turn you on or make you cum

- also he likes being called a slut (secretly, that’s why he always calls you one when he’s on top)

- also also, totally has a thing for collars and leashes

- “no, its not a pet play thing…” (he lied, it definitely is)

#send help #nathan bratt x reader #goosebumps 2023 #goosebumps #justin long #justin long x reader

[jmluvclub]

hoop ,, lee heeseung

pairing heeseung x fem!reader ,,

smut - established relationship ,, masterlist

in which you pick up heeseung from late basketball practice

the soft sound of a ball hitting the floor echoed throughout the rounded halls; slowly fading into light taps. the only light eliminating the building from your view was on the right- where you had dropped heeseung off hours prior.

he had told you pick up was at 8 pm, but then asked if he could stay later. wanting to get more practice in, it was now 1030 pm and vacant. being the only one in the practice room, heeseung was left in his thoughts..

pushing the door forward, you entered the court. with his back turned towards you, he aimed upwards and took his shot- making the hoop.

"hi" you said, watching the ball slowly dribble away. heeseung turned around and made eye contact with you, already smiling knowing your voice.

"hi baby" he replied, jogging towards your figure. he smelled like sweat and drowned out cologne, (meow omfg) yet you followed his embrace. skin sticking to his oversized shirt, he engulfed your body into a hug. hands resting above his shoulders, you pulled away slightly.

"how was practice?"

"nice, pretty crowded. niki stopped by for a bit; how are you?" he followed up, stroking the back of your hair.

"mm fine, work was boring. i missed you.."

heeseung slightly smiled, eyes trailing down towards your lips. "i missed you too pretty" swiftly placing a peck onto your lips he continued, "have you eaten anything yet?"

you shook your head, no. truthfully you were waiting for heeseung, knowing he likes to make sure you have fully eaten. but since practice ran later than usual, you figured he would have an appetite later (GIRL DINNER!!).

"hmph okay; stay here i'll get my bag quickly" he said, leaving you with one more peck on the lips while running towards the locker room.

you usually drop heeseung off in the afternoon, along with his friends. playing for 'fun' is what they call their style- but you know it's much more for sport (especially for heeseung). you've realized he has been staying later than usual, wanting to get in a few more dunks just for extra practice. always wanting to out play jake T_T

noticing it had been a couple of minutes, you made your way back towards the locker room where heeseung had run off too. inside, he was sitting on a bench- head against the lockers. man spread on display, you took note of the way he was breathing.

soft aggressive breathes escaped his lips, chest rising and falling.

"heeseung?" you spoke, alerting his eyes open. head turning your way, he relaxed his face.

"sorry, kinda lost my breath" he murmured, returning his head to the lockers. "need a minute"

quietly reaching the bench, you sat next to him. he remained in his position while your hands traveled towards his. resting on his thighs, you traced along his knuckles. shifting closer, you whispered "hee.."

eyes fluttering open, his attention turned towards your hands.

"let me help you feel better" you motioned, traveling your hands upwards onto his sticky shirt. "will you let me help you?"

hesitantly, his eyes followed yours. nodding for approval, you lifted yourself onto his lap- hands still resting on his abdomen. straddled, heeseung let his hands roam your body. wearing a black skirt and white tee, he moved along your figure; hands pulling on your seams.

"off" heeseung motioned, tugging at your tee. swiftly, you reached over your head- releasing yourself of the fabric. he groaned at the sight.. perky set resting inside a baby pink bra. wasting no time, he unclasps from the back and releases your capsuled breasts. reaction of an animal, heeseung takes one into his mouth.

slowly nibbling and pinching, he plays with you. grinning, you take the opportunity to play back- grinding against his groan. he bites down harder at the action, causing you to wince. his aggressiveness makes you want to help him even more, causing you to pull at his short strings.

realizing, he releases your chest and lifts your hips upwards for better movement. pants now off, your hand travels along his clothed member- resulting in multiple whines.

"please.." heeseung hums, throwing his head back and forcing his eyes shut.

since his late night practices results in shorted time between you two, moments like these are not regular. and.. his apparent tiredness is making you think this treatment of pleasure is long over due.

"need to feel you" he continues, grabbing your ass. skirt now ridden up, you move your underwear to the side, too lazy to even undress.

the sweaty boy in front of you continues to beg as you try and undress, swiftly adjusting yourself. the mixture of his sounds and appearance makes you clench your thighs. his hands now underneath your garments, he slowly traces the soaking fabric.

"heeseung.." you gasp, waiting to feel more- wanting to feel more.

in one quick stroke, he completely moves them to the side- exposing your sopping core. grunting, heeseung indulges his fingers inside of you in one sharp plunge.

"mmph so warm.." heeseung adds, hastily adding another finger inside. you mewl, back arched and legs spread wide. his fingers continue to press against your ache, only adding more pressure. his free hand finds the back of your neck- gripping it and pulling your face close to his.

"kiss me" he whispers, opening his mouth to catch your lips. a slow and passionate kiss evades his command, making you wince against his hand inside of you. grinding for more tension, your hands meet his shoulders; sinking deeply into his curves as you build up your release.

"so close, hee" you call out. wanting to hear more from him, you pull onto his hair. mouth agape, he moans your name.

"fuck, y/n"

as the tension between your inner thighs build up, heeseung never stops his pace. racing against the knots in your core, his fingers find the spot- causing you to moan out in ecstasy.

"so good for me, hee.. fuck" you say, slowing down your movements and now troubling breathes. he shakes his head and moves hair out of his view- the one being you. so pretty on his lap; messy hair, legs shaking.. things couldn't get better.

"missed this, missed you so much y/n" heeseung replies, giving you short pecks all over your face.

rags to the left of him, he gently cares for the mess he made (inside of you..) dabbing your face and placing a spare pair of shorts onto your body. holding onto his shoulders, he dresses you carefully.

"always so sweet for me, thank you hee"

his eyes seem to sparkle as you make contact, smiling with content. he shakes off some sweat from his hair and takes a seat. your eyes follow his still prominent bulge, slightly sticking out from under his t shirt.

on your knees now, you cat walk towards his spread (bitch always man spreading) resting your hands on his upper thighs.

"your turn"

from the hours long practice to the fucking, heeseung simply lets you take control. hands behind his head, he watches you take his member into your hands- kitten licking the tip.

not finding you amusing, he grips your head down onto it- bucking up at the feeling.

"god" he says, almost in a whisper- making you grunt against his dick. the vibrations send him off, gripping your hair even harder as he fucks your face in. trying to keep a pace with his hips was a joke, no matter how tired he appeared.

falling behind his rhythm, your mouth continues spilling out moans. tears swelling in your eyes as you watch heeseung come undone right in front of you. perfect view of the perfect boy, fully releasing not only his :p but energy into you.

"mmm y/n, gonna-" he whimpers out while bottoming out in your mouth- completely filling your mouth with his warm seed. slowing his movements, he unravels his hand from your hair- taking your mouth off his member.

licking up what is left, you swipe your thumb over your lip, teasing him as you suck it off. heeseung laughs and shakes his head off, wondering how he got so lucky with you.

"did i do good" you finally speak, picking up the towels and thrown clothing scattered on the floor.

"always, my girl" heeseung states, rubbing your face once more before throwing his bag together and over his shoulder.

taking your hand in his, you walk through the desolate court.

"lets eat in, ramyeon?"

"please"

notes; first published smut (?) drabble, would love to hear some feedback! will probably do this irregularly, trying to focus on reactions and smau's for now :,)

(inspired by that one envlog of heeseung and jake playing basketball LAWDDD)

© jmluvclub 2023 - all rights reserved ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

#heeseung #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung #enhypen #enha fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung hard hours #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #heeseung drabbles #enhypen drabbles

[avionvadion]

I feel... like this might be a trap... but I'm adopting this tiny child and her cat into my camp, anyway. If it's Lady Orin in disguise, welp, guess I'll suffer. We already adopted Arabella ages before Withers convinced her to run off. It'll be fine. Right? Right. It's fine.

Lae'zael and BIG Shadowheart and MASSIVE Guardian SPOILERS below.

YO, HELLO, I WASN'T EXPECTING YOU TONIGHT

Yeah! YOU TELL HER, LAE'ZAEL!

Ha! You wish.

...I know this is a super serious scene, but he looks so pretty in his new outfit. I literally went to camp JUST to put it on him, and then bam. Vlaakith. I dyed it red and everything to match his eyes. :3 I wish there was another hug option for Astarion in this moment, though... he's so sad.

I'd hug Lae'zael too if she wouldn't stab me for it. Though... she does have very high approval of Astra, so maybe it could happen. They're close enough friends.

SHADOWHEART CONCERNED FOR HER NOT-QUITE GITHYANKI GIRLFRIEND. HELLS YEAH. BEFORE WE HAD LAE'ZAEL CONCERNED, BUT NOW SHADOWHEART IS. IT'S HAPPENING, YA'LL.

Wow, all the visitors this camp session. I just wanted to put a new shirt on Astarion. XD

You clearly need a hug, sir. Astra will give you a hug.

What.

WHAT!???? YO!!!!!! SHE HAS THE BANGS!!!! SHADOWHEART, YOU LOOK SO GOOD!!!!!

Astarion, oh my gods. XD

Shadowheart, baby girl, I think Halsin thought you were plotting murder. T_T

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae'zael #bg3 halsin

[only-by-the-stars]

just watched the first two episodes of Fionna and Cake, and I am... okay, I cannot technically say "back on my Adventure Time bullshit" because lbr here, I have been a fan of this show for ten years oh my god how did the time fly and I am constantly obsessed so. let's just say I cannot be normal about this.

I need to rewatch it before next week to get my thoughts together but WOW. WOW. WOW. I am so deeply into this already!!! the whole "Fionna and Cake in the real world" setting from the first episode is so amazing??? it's like someone did a modern AU only it's canon??? and it was so fun trying to spot who was who, like on the bus and when Fionna was walking through the city. ALSO ILU LSP NO MATTER WHAT WORLD YOU'RE IN <3 <3 <3

and then episode 2!!! back in Ooo!!! OH GOD SIMON MY POOR DEAR, YOU NEED ALL THE HUGS!!! and Bubbline!!! and older Finn! T_T straight up cried seeing him without Jake and still with a cool prosthetic (something that's been on my mind lately because of certain game endings, ya know). super intrigued and fascinated by the oldest part of Ooo and Finn going to see Huntress Wizard!!! AND AHHHHHH A SONG BY REBECCA SUGAR ;O; this is so so good and I can't wait for more!!!

also I'm pretty sure I heard Cake say "fuck him up, girl" at the beginning of the first episode

#fionna and cake #adventure time #fionna and cake spoilers

[divorcingjimmatthews]

and there was only one bed + comforting them - reader x jade/kenny

assuming that you both like each other but neither has made a move yet

kenny

if youre a girl he would offer to sleep on the floor until you convince him that you're 100% fully okay with sharing kenny please calm down no one is sleeping on the floor okay

either way it ends with you two sleeping with your backs facing each other with some space in between. like normal adults that can just share a bed. no big deal. this is okay. this is okay (he keeps repeating this to himself)

he assumes that you must be already sleep because you're so quiet but he can't sleep because you've never been this close for so long and his bed feels and smells so nice with you in it and he never wants it to feel any other way again

he's just been through so much in such a short time

wait

is he... crying?

oh kenny

he prays prays prays that the tiny sob he just let out was quiet enough for you not to notice it

"kenny?"

dammit

he feels the weight shift in the bed as you sit up a little. then, he feels a warm hand on his upper arm, lightly rubbing it

"kenny, are you okay?"

he can't say anything because its that kind of moment where talking will make you cry worse

"hey, it's okay" you tell him, gently patting on his arm to get him to turn around to face you "free hugs. come on, come here"

the way he latches onto you. he hasn't had a good cry like this since he got to this damn place

still he tries to keep it low to not wake up his mom, he doesnt want to worry her

but yeah :')) god bless sweet kenny

you're rubbing his back and stroking his hair and after a while he pulls back and starts apologising

you try to tell him that its okay and that he should just try to sleep. that you're happy that you were able to help him. as a friend :)

its okay, you'll eventually get there. not today but someday

eventually you convince him that it really is ok and he plops back into your arms. he's too tired to keep feeling guilty about it

he's so cute when he sleeps T_T protect the sweet boy !!!

jade's under the cut because it's the tiniest bit nsfw

jade is downright offended that he has to share a bed. he didn't want to share a house much less a room much less a SINGLE BED

"you can keep your 3mm of spare bed and blanket thank you very much. ill sleep on the couch. ill sleep on the BATHTUB. i'll sleep on the f—"

you have to be not so subtle about telling him that you were actually looking forward to having him join you in bed. wink wink. wink wink. wink wink motherfuck—

OH

"sure yeah we can share. i don't mind that"

this idiot

"just to be clear, what exactly am i... allowed to do?" while warily eyeing you. offer sounds too good go be true. sus.

"i don't know. what do you want to do?"

cowboy duel

"honestly, i just want to get one fucking night's worth of good sleep"

you chuckle. "alright. we can do that."

you get in bed and just cuddle him like it's nothing. there's maybe a few soft kisses.

you're so soft and warm, he's already melting

"is it too late to change my answer? i don't think i want to sleep anymore"

you chuckle again. "you really, really need to. come on"

"hmm. fine."

he closes his eyes and settles in your arms. it feels so nice. he falls asleep so fast

he is, also, so cute when he's sleeping. it's so rare to see him look peaceful

you kiss his forehead and fall asleep soon after. you both have really sweet dreams because the showrunners and their so-called new horrors have no power here shhhh my imagines are outside of their jurisdiction

#epix from #jade herrera x reader #kenny liu x reader

[reanbowful]

hey hey Rean, can i have a request for teddy with a pretty tall gf reader? (bcs I see how he reacts to tall people like Gerard ;)) ). And she also teases him a lot

I'm fcking inlove with ur works 👺❤️

Ahh this is so cutee! Reminds me of lovely complex (if you dk what that is go watch it rn!!) And thank you sm!! I’m so happy that you enjoy my writings hehe

Also ngl, I react the same way as Teddy whenever I see tall ppl T_T (the dread of short ppl)

if you’re taller than them

(gray, alex, teddy, eugene)

gray yeon / yeon sieun

Honestly, Gray is not that tall to begin with. He’s like 158 cm (or around 5’2).

So I don’t think it would be such a surprising thing if you’re taller than him.

Tbh, I don’t think he would mind it at all. Gray is not really someone who’s super conscious about his height or anything.

In fact, you two would be that cool short boy/tall girl couple.

He might actually even prefer it if you’re taller than him.

If you tease him about it, like for example, you ruffle his hair and pull on his cheek.

Instead of getting annoyed, Gray would get shyy. And it would be the cutest thing ever.

He would try to pass it off as annoyance, but the redness on his cheeks tells you otherwise.

He will get back at you though.

I can totally see him pulling off that, ‘Hey you have something on you, come here.’ and when you bend down, he’ll give you a peck on the cheek.

Oh and how he will be smirking to himself once he saw how flustered you became.

Payback successful 😈

alex go / go hyuntak

Hm. I feel like Alex wouldn’t really mind that much either.

He would be super impressed with your height though. He’s 173 cm or 5’8, that’s already pretty damn tall for a girl. If you’re even taller than that, that’s quite something.

Alex would make sure to make use of your height for every single purpose that he can.

“Babe, can you get that for me? Yeah, that one at the top shelf.”

“Babe? The AC’s rattling, can you check it for me?”

“Babe, we need to clean the top of the cupboard. Can you help me with it?”

Of course, if you get mad at him for always asking you to do stuff for him, he will laugh and tone it down.

Just to impress you, he will bring a freaking ladder to get you books at the tallest shelves.

“Wasn’t I so cool just now?”

Just smile and nod :)

He also enjoys those moments when you guys are at a public transportation and he can just lean against you since you’re so tall.

He also like being hugged by you. He likes the feeling of your chin on his head, and the sound of your heartbeat right by his ear.

teddy jin / jin taeoh

Teddy! Oh boy. He would be a total wreck.

When he saw how tall you were, he would just outright REFUSE to stand next or anywhere in close proximity to you.

If you show him a sad face, he will immediately feel bad. Swallowing his pride, he would walk to approach you.

“Hey.. um. Look, I don’t really mean that-“

Then you will go and put him in a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“AHAHAHA I was just kidding!”

You betrayed him.

Once you let him go, he will stomp away immediately. Face flushed and a series of curses muttered under his breath.

He wouldn’t show his face for a couple days after, you actually thought you angered him for real. But then he came to see you.

You were walking home from school when you saw a certain blonde crouched on top of a wall near your neighbourhood. (he’s just like a cat fr)

“Hey lamppost! I don’t appreciate what you did to me last time. I was caught off guard.”

You looked up at him in amusement when he jumped down, dusting off his pants.

“I’ll consider us even if you come with me to a nice pizza place I reserved.”

You crossed your arms. Smiling deviously.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Hm? HEY WAIT! NOT LIKE THIS DAMMIT!”

You walked over to the pizza place with a trashing Teddy on your arms. Yea. You carried him all the way there like the sadist you are.

Expect to not see him again for at least a week after that. Give him time. He needs it to recover.

eugene gale / seo juntae

Ahh Eugene would be the absolute sweetest.

When he saw you for the first time, he will be mildly shocked to see just how tall you are.

But after that, Eugene would be the best boyfriend ever.

He wouldn’t care if you’re taller than him or if you’re shorter. He just.. likes you.

He would be such a supportive and caring boyfriend.

You were at the mall to look for shoes to go to your cousin’s wedding and saw a cute pair of heels. You tried them on and they look so perfect to go with the dress you have at home.

But, then you remembered Eugene. You were already taller than him, so wearing heels would only accentuate on your height difference. What would the family say?

“Ah! Y/N, those heels look so good on you! You should get them!”

“But, Eugene.. I’ll be so much more taller than you if I wear them.”

Eugene would be so confused honestly. It’s your shoes and how it makes you look good. Feel good about yourself. Why should you be concerned about him when you’re the one wearing those shoes.

“Don’t mind me! I think you look very pretty wearing them!”

We love a secure man✊

He will end up convincing you to just buy the heels and wear it for the wedding.

Throughout the entire night, he made sure to compliment you and let you know just how perfect you look.

If not in the eyes of others, at least you are to him.

#weak hero manhwa #weak hero webtoon #weak hero x reader #gray yeon #teddy jin #eugene gale #alex go

[jennyandvastraflint]

Xena Reactions S2Ep13

OH SHIT IT'S A THREE PARTER

Cold opener with Gabrielle my poor girl looks so tires

NOOOO COFFIN

"Xena..." STROKES THE COFFIN OUCH

"Xena?" she wants her backkk

SHE'LL FUCKING GO FERAL ON THESE GUYS. AS SHE SHOULD.

"What a coincidence. So have you." Who's that... Should I know who this dude is?

Gabrielle my bbg is desperate for a hug she needs all the hugs

"She just left me. How could she do that? I really want to hate her for it." "No you don't." "I miss her." NOOOOOOO. I'M SOBBING

"How empty my life was without her"

AND THAT I LOVE HER AAAAAAAAAAH

Ohhhh! The guy is Hercules's boytoy!

THE AMAZONS!

Ephiny is gorgeous...

MELOSA ALSO DIED??? NOOOH

Bruh I don't like this new queen

Bigass statue

Who are these boring men in hood and armour

OH IS THAT THE THIEF GUY FROM ANOTHER EPISODE. I recognise him

Shfhfs bdbd He just picked the lock

"No offence" 😂

Oop... Possession?

"Because she's strong and talks about the old ways" Ah...

"And maybe then, you can..." "Let her go..." How about NOOOO

Gabrielle is like You entitled shitttt XD

"Choose the one drink you wouldn't give your worst enemy"

AHAHAHA IS XENA HAUNTING HIM SJFHSHSS

"i want you to steal my dead body from the amazons"

PLEASE...

'No messing with my limbs or bodily functions unless I say so" shdhfhs

"Xena, I'll always love you"

"I always thought of you as my home"

AHHH SHE WANTS TO HELP THE AMAZONS

"I'm not just leering at scantily clad women, I'm working." sdjfhs

"Losing your body has done nothing to improve your patience" Xena HITS him

Oh Gabrielle looks GOOD in that armour

And the one earring? 👀

HOLY SHIT SHE TOSSED A KNIFE AT HER??

What is this Ephiny slander from this woman

"Look, they made me queen" SHE'S SO BROKEN AND SAD

"There are two kinds of tears."

"I won't say goodbye to you, Xena, because we'll be together again, one day" AAAAAAAAH

"Actually it is what you think it is, but not WHY you think it is"

Xena "Pathetic..." Gabrielle "That's so pathetic" sjdhdsv

FIRE ARROWS

Is she controlling his body

Yup. Gabrielle is about to believe it

Ephiny is like Whaat is happening

Ffs she's such a shittttt...

"I'm going to speak through you"

AHHHH

"why did you leave" T_T

I CAN'T LOSE YOU AGAIN. GABRIELLE I'LL ALWAYS BE HERE.

KISSSSSSS!!!

"Get your hands off my butt" sbfhdhdhd

Spikes. OBVIOUSLY there's spikes

No signal underground 😔

Ew why is she kissing him

ANDJSHSHD SHE HAS HIM ON A LEASH 😭

"I like pain. I like what it does to people and I like what it makes people do" sadist... 😂

"One or the other"

"Hey I paid for an hour" djfhdhs

Urgh ffs stop sexualising her...

"I wanna tell you THIS"

"With that Amazonian... Female"

XENA IS POSSESSING GABRIELLE

Oh the grin on Gabrielle's face is SEXY

Holy shit they're hanging over fire and spikes... And fight

Was that wobbly jelly thing the ambrosia

NOT ALL OF IT

HAND HOLDING. HAND HOLDING. "Come back. Please come back."

OH NO She's gonna eat it...

"I'm just giving you your chance... to thank me."

He's a good person, in some aspects

"Promise me that you'll never die on me again"

"It was warm, friendly, loving... I felt protected."

AWWWW THEY LEAN

#v watches xena #more crying ✌️ #xena #xena warrior princess #xena and gabrielle #gabrielle #lucy lawless #renee o'connor

[fishshapedbun]

about Romantic Killer (BIG SPOILERS)

ok i just finished watching Romantic Killer and it's so good wtf????????? the plot developed so much better than i was expecting at first?????? Anzu is such a good character and such a good friend????? so i need to ramble about it bare with me for a moment

the show is hilarious and i love how exaggerated the funny expressions are, but it also has some rly serious part damn im legit impressed (Anzu and Kazuki's first hug kinda got me tearing up ngl)

each of the characters is slowly developed so well. like damn. Kazuki's story is specially detailed and it caught me by surprise when they showed the flashbacks of the first episodes after we found out why he became so distant and conscious of people and everything made so much sense. and he felt so realistic in the way he reacted, his struggle to open up and every single time he started feeling anxious and panicking in public was so well done (and i wanted to take him away from the crowd and pat his head every time ugh T_T). i was just slightly dissapointed that right on the last episode he admited that he started crushing on Anzu bc after the entire season of them just being an amazing duo of friends i was so hopeful we would finally get a 'love interest' turned only best friend (bc lets admit its not like she doesnt already have enough ppl interested in her without Kazuki being one of them too). bc i was enjoying headcanoning him as aroace as i was watching :') oh well. maybe if it ends up not having a s2 i can pretend he realized he wasnt in love and he just loves her platonically a lot! if they dont give me the aroace boy i will rip it from their cold dead hands! :D

and i loved the plot twist on how Junta was actually her true childhood friend all along and she took so long to realize... his feelings were totally real awwwww and he is really a sweetheart, i like the childhood friend trope! buuuut i gotta admit im just living for the huge crush Makoto clearly has on Junta. boyo isn't hiding it very well. that scene when Makoto holds Saki's hand and takes her away from the triggering situation? that was gay x lesbian solidarity right there !

and Saki OH MY GOD SAKI. the episode focused on showing how the two of them became friends and how important Anzu is to her and the way she has always defended her and what Saki went through oh god... her story was so realistic and seeing her reaction seeing that stupid ass ex was such a realistic depiction of a kind of trauma like that. she's such a good character im so happy they developed her so well and didnt make her just an irrelevant school friend character!!! (also she's a lesbian i am not taking criticism- /hj)

i need to mention how Anzu is absolutely bisexual btw. her reaction to meeting Kazuki's sister? she literally straight up said "i'll fall for her" c'mon

and Riri!!! omg!!!! little genderfluid chaos gremlin!!!!!!!! i was so so happy that not only Anzu girbossed her way to getting them out of their punishment but she got them to permanently live on the human world AND officially made them one of the love interests??? ULTIMATE GIRLBOSS MOVE Anzu i love you so much dear. so ngl i lowkey would like seeing Anzu end up with Riri/Rio the most ksjefhskdjf badass girl x genderfluid gremlin??? so much potential cmon they literally were punished for breaking magic rules bc they care too much about Anzu that's so fucking cute skjfhsdf

and Hijiri!!!!! from a little annoying rich bastard to a little just slightly annoying tsundere rich baby!!! i really like that he's interested in her and all but ultimately he's just there working and helping her out a lot like he becomes genuinely a great friend??

so yeah. as one can tell from the immense number of written words here i have liked this anime quite a lot. binged it in a day, all at once, no regrets. i'll be happy if there's a 2nd season if it is as good as this 1st one, bc this was amazing! so glad i decided to give it a chance <3 there's even more things i could talk about here but i dont wanna write a novel chapter of a post so i'll stop here LMAO

but really, if you're into comedy, romance and some nice character development, you won't regret giving Romantic Killer a chance :)

#romantic killer #anime analysis #anime commentary #romantic killer spoilers #romki #kiri doing the talk thing #hoshino anzu #tsukasa kazuki #hayami junta #takamine saki #koganei hijiri #yeah you could say i liked it a bit #just slightly obsessed

[wooseokkies]

연애대전 / love to hate you (2023): ramblings and thoughts

alright, this has been loooong overdue — my thoughts (and screams) on the kdrama, love to hate you (2023), that aired on netflix.

<opinions and thoughts are purely personal>

honestly, I was in a bad kdrama slump after extraordinary attorney woo ended — I only completed a couple of dramas since then (under the queen's umbrella - ahh, another drama I have thoughts about; and curtain call - or at least those were the two that I remember the most). and, I was really itching to watch something lighthearted and fun, and boy,,, love to hate you hit all the right notes from the get go.

it's such a classic romcom with all the classic (read: cliche) tropes — enemies to lovers, fake dating / dating contract, guy and girl who start out not believing in love but fall in love anyway — you name it. they really packed all the favourites into one drama, and I can attest, believe it or not, that it was really the right move.

for starters, the chemistry between the male and female leads is exquisite. to me, romcoms are only as good as the chemistry between the two leads — the push-pull effect needs to be spot on, because the whole drama literally revolves around their love life. and I'm so glad that love to hate you did just that for me (and many others too, as I have read). their ages are compatible, their visuals, their personalities (albeit only surfacing in later episodes), but what really sealed the deal for me was their compatibility on what's beneath the surface — their push factor into their relationship, and their aligned goals/values.

and it may have seemed superficial at first glance — the fact that they both start off rolling their eyes at any hint of romance, because both parties had been so put off by their previous relationships that their views on the opposite sex are far beyond warped. but honestly, I think that it's not unrealistic; I myself have seen people similar to their characters, and it's probably far more common than we think it is. but what I truly liked was that the script didn't unnecessary prolong that hot/cold period between Kangho and Miran, and their progress was pretty satisfying to watch too; they both got over the 'dating contract' bit quite early on and thus, this gave enough airtime for their actual dating phase (which ahhh!! I sooo appreciate as a viewer). on the contrary, I find that many other romcoms drag out the hot/cold phase a lil too long, cutting the exciting dating bits short :(

and since we're on the topic of their relationship dynamics — I thought that as a whole, what kept viewers on their toes were the abundant (hahaha) skinship scenes (I actually feel so shy saying this but well, it is what it is). and they were always fresh and through those scenes, we got to see a lil bit more of their relationship progress as a whole (and more importantly, how Miran's view on men shifts subtly but surely the more time she spent with Kangho).

Another thing I absolutely loved was how soft and caring Kangho was towards Miran, even when their relationship was still under the monetary contract. it was obvious that he had fallen first, and fallen hard, and i appreciated (loved) that he wasn't afraid to show it. those lovely moments at the movie set, their hugs, brief hand touches, the way he makes an effort to take care of her well being — it's kinda a breath of fresh air from the romcom department (for me, at least); I really loved that it was clear that those actions weren't really borne out of the need to spite other parties (ie. his ex-girlfriend). I thought that Kangho's character was genuine and likeable, and a simp on the inside (hehe), which led to Miran's guard being slowly let down.

I squealed (!!!) when she said "I love you" to him,,,, ahhhh T_T

anyway, moving on, I kinda expected there to be that tiny angsty part, as they always have in these genres of shows. that tiny bump in their relationship, which has a sole purpose of allowing them personal space and to feel what it's like to not have the other party by their side. soooo I guess that phase wasn't tooo bad to wait out, for me. their reunion was so adorable though,,, hehe, giggled so bad lol.

lots on Kangho and Miran, but I also loved the second pair's relationship and dynamics. quite different from the first pair, but also unique in its own right. honestly as we reached the later episodes, I thought that they were really done for, but I'm glad to see that they got their happy ending too!!

last but not least, special honorary mention for the Gilmu squad; the bromance between Miran's ex-boyfriend and colleague got me GOOD 😆 we love to see blossoming romance in the workplace, yes!! I love Kim Sungryoung's character too; honestly NOT expecting that act of sacrifice / benevolence from her at the end but :"") such good friendship there. loved her dynamics with Miran too — big LOLs from their scenes together, always cracks me up.

and okay, I'm gonna have to stop myself before this gets unwieldy, but honestly, this drama has got to be one of the best!! (k) romcoms I have seen ever. so do give this a go if you have not already, and I promise you won't regret it!!

(also, Kim Okvin is SOOOO pretty, I really love her kickass vibes and natural visuals — I somehow feel like she's similar to Yeo Miran in real life hehe. as for Yoo Teo... I don't think he needs any explanation 🔥 잘생겼다!!!)

let me know your thoughts on this show!! I'd love to chat :)

#myramblings #lovetohateyou #love to hate you #연애대전 #kdrama thoughts #netflix kdrama #kdrama review #kdramadaily #korean drama #kdramanetwork #romcom #romantic comedy #you need to watch this 100% #you will not regret it

[hangulandhallyu]

AoS Ep 20, Warning: SPOILERS!!!

JUSTICE FOR THE CROWN PRINCE. I will be so pissed off if they get that lazy with his character that ope, pretty girl is with the other guy so I'm going suddenly not be smart anymore and am going to be manipulated by this known evil guy to be the big baddie because I have a fragile ego and stuff. They better have been playing that up just for cliffhanger purposes or I STG!!!

*Screaming*

WHERE IS BUYEON!? There is no excuse for the lack of explanation as to why this character built up as this divine uber-powerful person and the reason Muldeok is different than other soul shifters... suddenly just isn't doing shit when her body KILLS HER OWN FATHER, FIGHTS HER SISTER, And then goes and kills UK, too, etc. I think it's a bit of BS plot armor to have this whole thing happen anyway, but to not even give us an excuse as to why Buyeon suddenly isn't helping is mega WTF.

*Sobbing*

Obviously Somin IS going to be in S2. At the very least the first ep, but I don't see how she won't be in a number of them. Lady Jin directing her angsty, vengeful daughter to bring back Buyeon('s body) home alive wasn't an accident, and was left completely open, so it's going to be a feature of S2's plot, vengeful Spring and a dark mode danggu (ㅠ_ㅠ) full of hate and a desire for revenge hunting her down. at the VERY least she'll still be looking for Buyeon's body in the first ep. The mom & Buyeon will have to have a closure goodbye scene before we say goodbye to Buyeon for good.

*scream-sobbing*

Jang Uk was looking fine AF coming back from the dead though??? like wtF SIR

That whole scene was pretty cool though ngl. The emerging badassedly from the fog was ::chef's kiss:: (He did look a bit confused tho and yeah bro same)

*drunked table flipping*

WHERE WAS THE GOTDAMN ICESTONE BEFORE THAT, EH?? LIKE MAYBE WHEN HE WAS DYING, OR WHEN NAKSU WAS TOUCHING HIM WHILE RUNNING WILD AND HE HAD THE ICE STONE INSIDE HIM, WHICH IS THE THING HE HAD WANTED THE WHOLE TIME TO STOP HER FROM GOING-FUCKING-WILD I CANT BELIEVE THEY DIDNT EVEN EXPLAIN WHY IT DIDN'T DO SHIT FOR EITHER OF THEM UNTIL FIRE TIME.

*soft, sad crying*

I am way too upset that my fictional friends are disappointed in and hateful towards mudeoki/naksu. I think their hatred of Naksu isn't realistic at this point, time would have faded some of it, and especially finding out she was someone they knew and liked and that someone they loved loved her... I really don't feel like this sudden "OH SHE MUST DIE IMMEDIATELY" was well written, and that is disappointing.

I want Jin Mu to die in such a horrible and painful way. Please make him suffer so much T_T

Yul left Naksu bc he was told to the first time, right? Kudos to the actor, I'm pretty sure I could see determination solidifying on his heartbroken face that he was NOT going to listen to his family and abandon her a second time. Not when she needs him the most. (Esp since at that point he does not know that Uk was like no thank u to being dead and burned.)

can we just have a group hug/cry rn? Someone pls bring a lot of booze. And/or chocolate. And tissues 😭😭😭😭

#alchemy of souls #sorry that's too many words but y'all get it rn

[istherewifiinhell]

reading progress: chapter 222 (i had to get some shit sorted but we're back in action here folks)

reading highlights: get the scrolling fingers ready

196 oh theres a character w gender

kdj kind of commenter that just wants a girl character. okay

kdj ID theft yjh: oh there you are

197 "in moments of low self esteem Kim Dokja would say "I'm Yoo Joonghyuk"

UNIONIZE HELL!!

198 going to a bar to eat the appies yes (non drinker solidarity)

guy who survived a decade on one story -> maybe [non constellation] people need stories also

kdj: WWYJHD? wait im better than him

199 kdj special fake it til u make it

listening to funky synth music during the reaper fights (cat out of hell on bandcamp)

"my lovely kids LGY & SYS" t-t

200 [processing gamified revolution] HMM

201 hell yeah publican dude (british sense) i want him to make me a butty

Han Myungoh (HMO?) union buster OFC

YJH bar of handsome ness entry #1652

203 kdj unabashed long media enjoyer

LITERALLY comparing this to union efforts at the old job. okay

204 why are all office manager/company men roman philosophy losers

bring out the skill/item from 100 chapters ago

kinda hot to kill people just cause there fucking with the revolution

ORV MPREG?

205 orv a story for people who like wall

JHY videogame siren girl technique :/

206 HMO demon king consort? good for u?

ppl can grow off screen?? kdj lack of human object permanence

YJH widower era babey. uriel not causing problems persay. but on purpose

207 [BAD SOCIETAL THING] isnt the natural state of the world and can be changed. kissing this arc

brooo do get yjh a therapy watch to get him to dissociating/alienating himself less -> kdj is the guy planing this o__o

KNW and abyssal black dragon are u evil or just 14

208 [hsy feels like] an abandoned food processor?

The entire hsy & ysa scene its got everything: sexual tension, fraught emotions, abt secrets and grief, Big Dragon

JHY in a world of minmaxers is a balanced PC

209kdj you have a new kid a they are a foolish teen

4th wall dog training continues. NO eating other smaller wall

Big Guy (derogatory) my fav passive aggressive insult

210 "I forgot to I was Yoo Joonghyuk" yeah rookie mistake man cant forget that

"Tell the Duke to learn to fear the Day" HOOTIN AND HOLLERING

211 why is this egg so cute wtf. it needs story and hugs okay

dokkaebi sys birth im crying. kids man, you gotta love them! they love the whole world!

212 [heh] kdj dad moments! thats his kid!!

SYS LGY LJH kid hang out T_T -> maritime admiral yi sunsin T_T

uriel is so normal about dokhyuk. you abandoned ur incarnation!!

213 yjh uriel Road trip buddy comedy

STEAL FROM WORK!!

214 "if you have to sell your story sell it for the right price" THATS PRAXIS BAYBE

kdj doing the blackbeard thing about demon king of salvation

215 kdj cant talk to people. mood. -> praising jhy cute

216 kdj no good billionairs-ing the constellations

the readership to commenter to author pipeline. themes

Kdj existential crisis about the existence of truth and the true self and if its possible to know the other

Yelling

"I think there is a huge wall" [Fourth Wall is looking at you] -> THATS WRITING

'theres no such think as communication' DOKJA

everyone has a wall, communication is impossible thats obvious -> TEENS ROCK

you should leave your mark

music: loves first explosion

kdj 🤝 me : getting the names slightly wrong

SWK!!!

↳ 217 he had sweet lips?

↳ one of swk hairs? -> secret tool that will help us later?

↳ its the gaze of one person...

218 the snake says hes okay cause he has no hands and feet (GOOD JOKE) i missed the twitch chat

THE REVOLUTION MUST LIVE IN OUR HEARTS AND IN OUR MINDS

many stripes one team! (blaseball ref)

219 dokhyuk's constant one up man ship ID fuckery

219 theres the swk hair. im gonna get a good grade in orv!

220 KNW is a mech. okay

Bye KNW see you in another 50 chapters

UGH YJH [SCREAMING] thx for saving him bbygirl

"He came..." I was so happy I wanted to call out his name... yeah bro?

221 kdj self rationalization speed run. did my friend do smth just to save me? no he must have some convoluted motive

Author is that file A THREAT? sad yjh tho bby.

rotating: i mean shit. i already made a post cause part of of this section was so fucking good. kim dokja! you got problems man. fucking fascinating ones. I love it when teens school him about the philosophy of communication. yeah bro its all signifiers all the way down the platonic realm of perfect objects is inaccessible to us. but meaning can still be created even if its infinite meanings of infinite texts. hang on.... can we get fictional character Kim Dokja to read Borges i think i would fuck him up so bad. delightful revolutionary stuff going on here too, big fan. to think we can kill the trope of the evil revolutionary that takes power for themself if we all just had the most weird intrinsic gay identity thing going on with some guy thats assassinates politicians in ur name.

i think ill leave the actual nibbles of kdj yjh legacy/story swap for next time tho. just based in vibes. also just noteing the veritable gaggle of kids being collected. love em. kdj like many people with parent problems and who is easy to own, collecting them like flies

remember all epiphanies of the self are 80 percent wrong

#some shit #orv blogging #going to go DEVOUR some fucking dinner the narratives make me so hungery -> actually just forgot to eat #just so u know i can see the activity feed ticking up ominously from this screen but am powerless against it #did u know posts work exponential i think im learning that. #orv notebook