#although making an effort and being social did help me to get better

[skelettflickan]

cringing so hard att all the times i tried too hard to be Normal™. just got weird in another way instead that made myself and probably other people uncomfortable. i wish i knew a was autistic earlier and that i wasn’t afraid of people finding out i’m autistic!!

#i am usually pretty good at masking but sometimes i overdo it and it's not a good time #rip me back in 2018-2020 when i was really mentally ill but still tried to be social #i feel bad for the people i met back then #i am much better now #although making an effort and being social did help me to get better #starting to play dnd helped a lot! #was gonna be admitted to the hospital like the week i was gonna play for the first time LMAO #ended up not going to the hospital bc of reasons so i got to play dnd! #before 2018 i was just mentally ill without trying to be social for a few years #don't recommend it #i kinda wanna reach out to people but i still have a tiny bit of social phobia left and i'm afraid they hate me lmao

[stairain]

Swing and a Miss.

You meet a nerd at a bar, and you’re determined to claim him as yours. 

Warnings: Sub Spencer, blowjobs, hesitance, praise, nicknames, implications of desired corruption, mentions of alcohol, this is quite tame in comparison to everything else I’ve written. 

WC: 5K

You slowly walked into the bar, noticing the bustling atmosphere that surrounded you. You took a few moments to look around and admire the patrons before walking up to the bar table and sitting down. 

Spencer sat at the table, and looked around him at the strange, unfamiliar environment, and he quietly watched the people in the bar as they drank, talked, and laughed. He was studying them carefully, observing their gestures and faces, trying to pick up on small details about their behavior and manner of communication. 

He took in the sights and sounds of the place, taking mental notes and storing the information away for later use, in case he needed to recall it. He did not interact with anyone, instead keeping to himself and letting them come to him.

You smile towards the bartender before telling him what you wanted, and when you were done talking to him, you looked to the quiet man next to you. 

He seemed to be in his own world, and looked very out of place at this bar. But you decide to bite the bullet anyways.

“Hey.”

He looks at you for a moment with a neutral expression, then smiles slightly and gives you a brief nod of his head in greeting. Although you had only just met, he seems to be trying to figure you out, studying you and taking in your appearance and behavior. He seems to be assessing your trustworthiness and what kind of person you are.

"Hello. I'm Spencer Reid, and you are?"

You shake your head and smile.

“That’s not important.” The bartender hands you your drink, and you take the glass in your hand. “But I can’t help but notice you seem.. out of place. You don’t usually go out to these types of places, do you?” 

He looks around at the rowdy bar with a faint frown on his face, clearly not enjoying the rowdy and loud atmosphere. His eyes return to meet yours, and he nods slightly.

"Correct, I do not regularly visit such places. They are noisy and crowded, and people are usually intoxicated, which makes them more unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Additionally, I do not understand how people can enjoy spending time in such chaotic settings, and I usually feel out of place and out of touch with the people around me. It's not my usual environment."

You take a sip of your drink and listen to him ramble on. You had to bite back a joke about how he’d be better off in a library, you were interested in this man, and you didn’t know how well he’d take that joke.

“So.. Then what are you doing here? Waiting on a friend.. Waiting for a girl?” You looked at his hands, no ring.

He chuckles slightly and shakes his head.

"Not waiting for anyone, no. I was, um.. I was trying to get more comfortable with this type of environment, I suppose. Trying to expand my social experience a bit. I'm not particularly fond of this kind of place, but I'm making a bit of an effort to make myself more comfortable with things that normally make me uncomfortable. Trying to learn to deal with discomfort and chaos rather than avoiding it, if that makes any sense."

“How admirable.” You take one more sip of your drink before setting it down on the counter. You move your body so you’re now facing him, your legs almost brushing against his seat, and your arm supporting your head as you lean on the table. “You’re an introvert then, I take it..”

He is slightly taken aback when you move closer to him, but he recovers quickly and nods.

"That's... correct, yes. I'm very introverted, and I typically prefer my own company, but I'm trying to make more of an effort to interact with people. I enjoy reading and studying about other people, but actually socializing with them is something I'm still working on being comfortable with."

You can’t help the soft laugh that leaves your lips.

“You study people, but can’t bring yourself to talk to them.. Seems a bit stalker-ish, no? I mean, I have no doubt you can tell what I’m thinking just by looking at you..”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles a little, a bit embarrassed.

"I suppose that could be seen that way, yes. But I mean no harm. I'm just... I'm very analytical. I like to understand how things work, and people are the most complex things there are. It's fascinating to study them and their behaviors, but I still haven't quite figured out how to make it work in practical settings. I am... not very socially skilled, as I am sure you have already gathered."

You flash a smile to him before sighing and picking up your head from your hand. You reach down to grab at his chair and turn it so he’s facing you.

“Alright then, pretty boy. What can you tell me about my behavior, hm?”

He is a little caught off guard by your sudden action, and he blushes faintly at your comment, clearly not used to such compliments. He thinks for a moment before speaking. 

"You are very.. bold in your methods of approaching men. You seem confident, and comfortable with yourself. But also, perhaps a little bit lonely. I am not sure, but I get a sense of restlessness from you."

You huff softly through your nose at him those last few parts.

“Maybe all that studying paid off then, stranger. You’ve just about hit the nail on the head.”

There’s a slight sadness in your tone, but you mask it quickly with a smile. He looks a little shocked by your admission, and his eyebrows furrow slightly, indicating he is concerned.

"I... am sorry to hear that. It must be... difficult, feeling so restless and alone. I can see why it might lead you to try new ways of meeting new people, if the usual methods aren't working out."

His words are sincere and genuine. He has a kind and empathetic side to him, and he feels a lot of sympathy for you, imagining a life without meaningful connections and genuine relationships. 

“Thanks, but, I’ve been alright on my own. Plus, meeting new people is always fun.. Don’t you think?”

You look up at him with a flirtatious smile. He smiles back, but also seems a little bashful.

"Well.. meeting new people can be interesting and exciting, certainly. But it can also be difficult and uncomfortable. It's not really my specialty, to be completely honest." He chuckles a little nervously. "I tend to be a bit... awkward, in social situations, if you cannot tell. I am not the most charming or charismatic person, and I generally don't make the best first impression."

“That’s alright, I’d say I have enough charm for the both of us, hm?” You throw a wink at him and reach over to take a sip from your glass. He blushes again, but his smile grows a little bit, as he seems to find your flirting a bit flattering.

"I suppose you do,"  he laughs a little. "I admit, I'm not usually on the receiving end of flirtations from beautiful women, so it's a bit of a... new experience for me."

“Beautiful, huh?” You chuckle at his small attempt at flirting. Your words are teasing. “Was flattery in those studies on how to read people?” 

Spencer laughs, embarrassed. "Okay, okay. Flattery is not exactly my strong suit, as I'm sure you have already gathered. That was.. awkward, wasn't it?" He sighs and looks away. 

"Anyway, I guess maybe it did get mentioned a time or two in my studies, yes.. but it was never really something I put much effort into. I guess I must be out of practice, because it clearly did not work at all."

“Swing and a miss.” You joke before you reach out and pull his jaw gently so he’s looking back at you again. “I admire your attempt, what else you got?”

His face flushes even brighter, and he looks at you intently as he tries to think of something to say. He's not used to this kind of interaction, and so he just ends up staring at you, his face pink as his brain whirs quickly, thinking of something to say. He clears his throat, trying to think of a compliment that doesn't sound too forced or unnatural, but it doesn't seem to help. You've really got him stumped now.

"Um... I... I..." 

He sighs, looking slightly frustrated as he's unable to put his thoughts into words. You pick up your glass and swirl around the drink as you continue to tease the poor man.

“Rendering a nerd speechless, consider me accomplished.”

He smiles and bows his head. "I guess you definitely have more experience than I do when it comes to meeting new people. You definitely seem... very good at this. You must be a natural born flirt, hm?" He chuckles a little and shakes his head, laughing at himself. “You definitely put me to shame, if I'm being honest. I'm not sure I can match your level of charm... but I'll keep practicing. It can't hurt to try and learn from the best."

“The best? Look at you, you’re already learning.” You praise, trying to gauge the kind of person he is. You wanted to see what made him blush, what made him stutter, and what made him aroused. “And no, not natural born.. You just make it easy.” 

He blushes again at your comments, and he looks slightly embarrassed. He seems flattered by your praise, but he's also a little bit suspicious of you, wondering what your game is. Why are you being so playful and flirty with him? He doesn't think you'd go through all this effort for no reason.

"Why are you being so... nice to me?"

You nonchalantly sip at your drink, obviously entertained at watching the confused and flattered expression on his face.

“You’re adorable, I see no reason to lie about that, seeing as you’d probably be able to read my mind somehow anyways.” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, quite amused by the situation. You really did catch him off guard, but he is still enjoying the banter and the playful flirting. In fact, it's very flattering, considering he's not used to people being flirty with him.

"Okay, you got me. I can't argue with that. I guess sometimes I'm a little bit too easy to read, huh?"

“Seems a bit ironic, you’ve spent all this time analyzing people and their behavior, and yet you’ve already given away so much to me.”

The playful teasing tone in your voice doesn’t falter at all, it only grows stronger as you can feel him becoming more comfortable with it.

“Makes me feel special, stranger.”

He nods, trying not to laugh. He seems to find your teasing both amusing and refreshing, despite his previous suspicions. "I suppose that is a bit ironic, huh?

He chuckles and shakes his head again, blushing slightly but seeming to relax and let his guard down a tad bit, feeling more comfortable with you. You have a very charismatic manner about you, so he can see why people are drawn to you, and he is enjoying himself now.

"You do have a knack for making people feel that way. I must admit... I am feeling quite special right now."

“Maybe that was my plan all along.” You reach out and run your hand through his hair, pushing it back slightly before ruffling it again. “What else are you feeling..?”

Spencer gives a soft gasp at the sudden touch, and he blushes again. He’s surprised by your boldness, but he can't deny that he finds it awfully flattering. You are clearly very comfortable with the flirtatious vibe. "I... I must say, I'm feeling... a little flustered..." He smiles slightly, but he’s still feeling bashful and is unable to stop blushing. 

“That’s all?” You give him a faux pout and after a few moments you bite your lip, waiting for an answer. 

He clears his throat, still very flustered. "Well... I'll admit my mind is starting to think about... more than just my typical studies of people's behavior..." He chuckles shyly, finding it a little amusing, but also a bit thrilling that he's feeling this way. 

He's not used to such experiences, and it makes him feel oddly excited and hopeful. "I've never met someone like you before, you must forgive me. I'm... not very experienced with flirting or intimacy."

You can’t help but laugh in admiration at the way he speaks. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy.” 

He blushes even more at the nickname you’ve assigned to him. You've completely caught him off guard now, with your playful tone and teasingly bold manner. He clears his throat again in an attempt to steady his voice as he tries to answer you honestly. "W-well.. like I said, I've never experienced this level of flirting before.. and, um, well, I.. I feel myself becoming a little bit attracted to you."

“Just a little bit? You think we could change that?” Your tone is condescending and teasing, as if you’re talking down to him.

He sighs and nods, clearly defeated by his feelings, but he smiles nonetheless. "Okay, okay.. I'll admit it. You got me. I'm more than a little bit attracted to you, and... yes, I would like to change that." 

He chuckles softly, realizing how blunt and honest he's being, but he seems to accept his attraction to you. You are a beautiful woman, after all. There's no denying it, so he just gives into his feelings.

You smirk at his answer and stand up from your seat. You lean up to his ear to whisper lowly, making him shiver in anticipation.

“Meet me in the bathroom.. 4th on the left. Wait a few minutes before going, I’ll be waiting.”

You turn away from him and make your way to the back of the bar. You push open the door and thank god they have single bathrooms.

He looks absolutely stunned by your sudden show of boldness and the intensity of your request. He blushes even more, but he nods and seems to accept his fate. After a few minutes, he pushes up his sleeve and looks at his watch, then he heads to the bathroom, trying to get himself prepared for what is waiting for him. His emotions are all but out of control, and his heart is racing, but he feels strangely excited as a part of him can't believe this is happening. 

As soon as you hear a timid knock on the door, you know it’s him. You quickly swing the door open before forcefully grabbing him by his tie and dragging him into the bathroom.

His eyes widen as he's suddenly grabbed by you, and he's shocked by your boldness and the physical force with which you pull him into the bathroom. He's knocked off balance, completely he's caught off guard by the unexpected aggressiveness of your approach. But he follows along without resistance, feeling excited by your confidence and your dominant attitude. You have clearly taken charge, so he follows your lead, eager to see where this is going.

You shut the door behind you two and lock it. Once you twist the lock, you slam his body against the door and lean forward to press a messy, aggressive kiss on his lips.

Despite the way you’ve assaulted his lips by your aggressive and passionate kiss, he can’t help but melt into the kiss and starts kissing you back, feeling caught up in the moment and carried away by the passion. Any thought about protesting against you was completely out of his mind. He kisses you back with equal levels of passion, he puts all of his emotions and his feelings on the line to give in completely.

You pull back and lick your your bottom lip, looking up at him with a predatory gaze. “Not such a shy nerd anymore, what happened, pretty boy?”

He blushes again when you break apart, his face now completely red when he meets your intimidating gaze. "I.. I guess you must've brought it out of me.. you do tend to have that effect." He chuckles, still quite breathless from the kiss. This is all new territory for him. 

“I’m flattered, baby.” You say before diving down and pressing wet kisses against his neck, and you can feel the goosebumps on his skin on your lips. 

Spencer’s is taken by surprise again, and he can't help but blush heavily. He can feel your lips on his neck, and he lets out a soft gasp at the contact. He can feel the goosebumps forming on his skin, and chills running down his back as you continue doing this. 

"This... this is..." He chuckles breathlessly, not able to finish his sentence, but he's feeling extremely pleased with this experience. He's never felt like this before, and he can't help but enjoy the sensuality of it. 

“Talk to me, pretty thing..” You whisper against his neck before continuing your kisses.

He can't help but shiver and let out a soft whimper at your voice, and the kisses you're planting on his neck. He can feel his cheeks burning red, and he can't help but give into the sensations you're causing him to experience. He doesn't even care if he sounds foolish when he speaks.

"This.. this feels so good... I've never felt anything like this before."

“Yeah? You want more?” You murmur against his skin as your hands find the buttons of his shirt, and begin to play with them. 

He nods, still breathless and a little bit shaky. He loves this feeling, and he's never wanted anything more in his entire life. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you can feel his heartbeat picking up speed as you unbutton his shirt. "Yes... please..." He gives a soft moan, now overcome with sensations, and he's lost in the moment. He can't help but give into your touch.

Nodding, you start pushing the buttons through the hole, and soon enough you have his entire chest exposed for you, fully on display. You sigh happily at the sight and slowly kneel down, pressing kisses against the skin of his bare chest and stomach as you lower yourself to the ground.

This sudden display of boldness from you leaves him completely and utterly shocked and speechless. He can't help but watch you with bated breath, as you make a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and leaving his bare chest exposed. 

"What... what are you..." His words are shaky and quiet, as he watches you with a mixture of surprise, arousal, and embarrassment.

You don’t answer him, but instead ask him your own question. 

“Tell me what you know about the effect pleasure leaves on humans..” 

Your skillful fingers run down his body and trail your digits on the waist of his dress pants and find the zipper of them. You give it a small tug as you speak.

His mind goes completely blank for a few seconds, and his heart rate picks up speed again. Your teasing, playful, and bold personality is starting to take over, and he's starting to become more and more overcome with the excitement of the situation. 

"Uh... I-It's been shown that pleasure does-fuck.. release dopamine and oxytocin in the brain, causing a feeling of physical and emotional satisfaction in the recipient, and... and this feeling can... get quite addicting, which... usually leaves people wanting more."

You hum in satisfaction at his answer and pull down the zipper of his pants. “You’ve never felt that before, have you?”

His eyes widen when he realizes what you're doing, and he takes in a sharp breath of air. He's completely and utterly flustered and embarrassed by this display of dominance, and he can't help but watch you like a deer trapped in headlights, unable to look away. 

He shakes his head, feeling slightly lightheaded from the excitement and the overwhelming feelings of the situation.

"No... I... I've-I've never felt anything quite like this before."

“And how do you feel, baby? You want more?” His zipper is completely pulled down, and you slot your fingers between his sweaty skin and the rough fabric of his pants. 

Your words and actions leave him feeling completely flustered and speechless again, and he can feel all of his emotions running wild. He can feel the blush on his face, and he's still feeling lightheaded from the excitement of the situation.

"I..." He takes in an uneven breath, trying to calm down. "I.. I've.. I certainly do want more, yes.." He tries to steady his voice, trying not to let his nerves stop him from being completely honest with you.

“Good boy.” You offhandedly say as you pull down his trousers and leave him in his underwear in the cold bathroom.

Spencer’s face turns even more red when you leave him in just his underwear, so exposed. He shivers, but your words and your boldness warm his skin anyways. His breath is shaky, as the excitement and the embarrassment still have a death grip on him.

"W-Wait.. What... what are you doing now? Please... this is all so..." He whimpers out, seeming a bit out of his element with all of this, but still, he can't help but be incredibly turned on by your words and your touch.

You look up at him with hungry eyes and hold the band of his underwear in your fingers, threatening to pull them down. “Tell me to stop.”

He looks at your hungry eyes and takes in a sharp breath. He's afraid of what happens next, but he's also incredibly turned on by you and wants to see where this goes. He smiles mischievously before he speaks to you with a bit of a fearful tone.

"Please... don't stop."

You coo at his words and finally start to pull down his underwear. “See.. I knew you were a smart boy.”

His face heats up again as you start to pull down his underwear. It should be embarrassing, he doesn’t even know you, but the excitement has taken over, and the feeling is far more powerful and more intense. He still feels breathless as he watches you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to take them off of him, as there’s a clear obstruction that’s preventing you from pulling them clean off, but when his heavy length subconsciously flexes in front of your face as you stare up at him in absolute awe, and a little bit of amusement. 

“Well, whatever you lack in social skills you really make up for now.”

His entire body is shaking with excitement and nerves, and his breath is already shaky as you look him over and stare at his cock like it’s your last meal. He blushes again when you laugh at him a little bit. He can't help but smile at your words.

"Y-you certainly know how to get a rise out of me..”

You laugh again at his choice of words. “Yeah, I can see that.” Your hand reaches out and strokes his exposed thighs, so close to where he so desperately needs it.

The brunet gasps, clearly surprised by your actions. This is all getting to be way too much for him to handle, and he's already feeling completely swept off his feet. He can't even think straight, let alone speak.

He just breathes heavily, feeling all too dizzy as this all happens. It's almost too much for him to take in, but he's too turned on to even bother fighting it.

And you were only adding onto it. Your hand moves from his thighs and to his dripping cock, giving him an experimental tug. He’s warm and hard in your palm, you can’t help the way your tongue peeks out and runs along your lips. 

He lets out a soft gasp, and any attempt at keeping a straight face is gone the second your hands start stroking him. He's completely overcome with sensations, and his mind and his body are almost unable to keep up with all of this. His whole body shakes, as if his every nerve is on high alert, and you can hear his breath become shaky with all the excitement. He seems to be losing his ability to speak completely, as his mind and his body are now completely controlled by all the new and powerful feelings that you're causing him to experience.

Your strokes along his dick speed up, you wanted nothing more than to hear and see him fall apart above you. You see his knees buckle at the sensation and you huff out a silent laugh.

His breath becomes more and more heavy and erratic. He's almost completely at your mercy, unable to think straight or even stand fully upright. He looks at you, barely able to stop himself from falling over when his gaze meets yours. He's so turned on by your touch that he can't even put a thought together.

The touch, the feeling, it's just too much for him to take in, and he has no control over himself in this state. He's completely yours if you want him, and it's almost frightening to feel that kind of complete and total surrender of control.

You watch him fall apart in your hold above you, and smile adoringly at his shaking figure. You wanted to corrupt this man, take him away from the shy, nerdy man he was, and turn him into your personal bitch. Not wasting another moment, your mouth encompasses him. 

His eyes wide open, and you can see the shock in them. Sure this was expected, but the feeling almost had him toppling over on top of you.

“Oh.. Oh my god..” 

But at the most basic level, this is what he has always wanted. He has always wanted to escape from all the social expectations of him, and he has always wanted to be released from all of the inhibitions of the past. This is his chance to let loose, and even the shock of the moment can't make him hesitate.

You watch as his eyes roll back into his head and his body suddenly relaxes. You smile around your mouthful and look up at him with admiration shining in your eyes. 

He lets out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling completely vulnerable and helpless in your hold. He can't help but look back down at you in awe and pure lust, unable to think straight and enjoying every second of it.

His surrender is total, and he looks completely at your mercy. He really is completely yours to do whatever you want with, and he's enjoying every moment of this completely unhindered passion.

You pull back and press a kiss to the sensitive tip, a string of precum connecting from the head to your shiny slick covered lips.

“How’s it feel, baby?”

"It.. you... it's... it's amazing.. You’re so good."

He sighs contentedly, feeling utterly lost in all of the passion, the new feelings, the sensation.. he is completely swept off of his feet and can't help but express his pleasure with high pitched whimpers and moans. 

You laugh at his reaction before diving back in. Your throat completely encloses around him, squeezing around that rock solid length that’s pulsating in your mouth. Spencer throws his head back against the door and reaches a hand up to cover the moan that inevitably slips through his fingers anyways. 

With every pass of your warm and wet mouth over his leaking tip and heavy cock, he can feel himself being lassoed to a brink of pleasure he’s never experienced before. His body begins to be wracked with shudders and he quickly taps on your shoulder in a panic. 

You don’t pull away like he was expecting, but instead, you just look up at him with awaiting eyes. It had never occurred to you before that he’s never had an orgasm, but it all clicked when you realized. 

With the way his legs were shaking, one hand trying to push you away and the other covering his mouth, and how he tried so desperately to look you in the eyes, but always ended up failing when they rolled back into his skull.. He was entirely yours. 

“I-I don’t know what’s.. P-Please.” 

The wet noises of your mouth around him only grow louder as you begin to speed up. The familiar ache in your jaw starts to set in, but you know it’s not much longer until he’s completely and utterly shattered by his own orgasm.

Your hands reach up to hold his bony hips, and you use the hold to push him deeper down your throat. His mouth drops open in pants, trying to get out a sentence but all that came out were incoherent moans and broken words. 

With an almost ear shattering moan, he fills your mouth with his hot and sticky release. The hand covering his mouth proved to be more than useless as whimpers and whines poured from his bitten lips.

His thighs shake around your head and you continue to suck his softening cock, wanting to milk him for every last thing he was worth, and make his first release worthwhile. 

“Ple-Please..” 

Before his knees could give out on him, you pull away and swallow. There’s some of his spend dripping from your lips, and the look you give him is primal as you wipe it off with your finger and put it right in your mouth. 

His eyes roll back at the gesture and you stand up to pull him into a sloppy, downright filthy kiss. When you pull away, he smiles down at you and tries to find his own voice. When he speaks, it comes out raspy, no doubt ruining his throat through all the moans and screams he let out. 

“D-Do I... Do I get to know your name now..?” He pants out as you tuck him back into his underwear and pants. 

“At least take me on a date first, Spence.”  

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer reid

[setsugekka]

❥déjà rêvé (m)

↳ When your best friend marries her stuffy, stuck-up, long-time boyfriend, you swallow your feelings and put your reservations aside to support her...

...and when your erotic imagination takes hold of you one night in relation to him, you’re thankful for the fact that your friend is able to laugh it off.

Unfortunately, you’re not able to let it go as easily.

kim doyoung x fem!reader — enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [17.7k wc] cws: open relationship, alcohol consumption, social smoking. sexual content: bdsm-heavy!! dominant doyoung, submissive reader, unprotected penetrative sex (v+a), oral sex (m+f), gratuitous dirty talk/degradation/humiliation, cum play/facials/wet&messy, deep throating, safe word usage, ravishment play, infidelity play, spit play, doyoung has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar.

Seven years.

 Watching as your best friend now sat in glee as hired hair and makeup help dart around her to make sure that every strand, every eyelash be perfectly in place for her big day, you realize that now, after so long, it's difficult to even really recall the first few times that she started bringing him around. You remember the first night she mentioned him — a careful slide of a photo of him into the group chat, followed by the usual 'he looks better in person' commentary — although hilariously unnecessary given that the man stunning even back then.

You did, however, wish that his looks had translated more into his personality.

Unfortunately, it was no mystery the way that you and Doyoung did not get on. Never culminating into blow-out fights, or a need to pick sides, or even the ruining of an evening or vacation: But it was there. Petty jabs and comments slung about, backhanded slips of the tongue coming from either side at a moments notice — something that, earlier on, came to be of much contention between you, Mina, and her now husband-to-be. Over time, however, with the relationship growing, evolving, and coming to terms with the fact that this man most likely to remain in your life for as long as Mina would be, you decide on doing the only thing that a good, supportive, friend can do in such circumstances.

After all, you weren't the one marrying him, and thank fuck for that.

  "How do I look?"

Nearly tear-filled eyes looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror as you stand behind your best friend of a decade and more, you offer a tight-lipped smile back to her — in an effort to keep it together, really, you'd rather not cry your makeup off, as well.

"You look amazing, he's lucky," you begin genuinely before switching to a more playful tone. "And he better remember that, because I'll be watching."

With a sway of her hand, Mina shoos you away equally playfully and laughing through the fact that she was surely just about to start crying. "This long and you guys are still like this, are you ever going to get over it?"

"Is he ever going to stop being a pretentious douche? Because all signs point to 'no.'"

Cocking her head as if to say 'give me a break,' your bestie sighs audibly at the much anticipated response from you in regards to the matter.

"He's a good man."

You nod. "I know. He's good to you and, well — good enough to me, so I'll allow it, I suppose."

Would you choose to spend time with Doyoung if not for Mina; if not for the fact that he be obviously and irrevocably in love with her and treat her as such every moment of everyday? No.

But the rest of it sort of makes up for that fact.

One of the perks of having Kim Doyoung around is the money.

Of course, Mina doing well enough for herself that she need not rest on the laurels of a man, but marrying this one be far from a bad choice as far as financials go. A hard worker all through high school and college and landing a fancy, high-paying career gig straight out — only a few weeks after the wedding, the two bought a house together — an expensive, modern home a little bit on the outskirts of the city but not too far away as to make it inconvenient, glass paneling, black marble, and perfectly shined platinum stainless steel; the first time entering it, you can't help but think how it's precisely what one would expect upon being informed of the kind of money and stature that Doyoung has.

'New money,' they call it, and with it comes a certain expectation of being a prick, apparently.

The positives of all of this, of course, include that the man work long hours, and thus, you're free to be over without having to see much of him.

And thank God for that.

 "Drink?"

Already reaching up and into one of the white and glass cupboards just above as she calls out the question, you answer back a simple "sure" as she continues bringing down two, large, red wine glasses that you're almost certain cost far more than any reasonable person would pay for cups.

"Doie brought these back from Portugal the last time he went on business, apparently they're one of a kind, handmade."

"I swear to God every time you call him that I get the most intense case of sudden indigestion. No relation, though. I'm sure."

The same playfully annoyed cock of her head that you're used to seeing every time the man comes up into conversation, the both of you chuckle as she sets two glasses down onto perfectly shined marble countertops in front of you.

"There's like, thirty bottles of wine down here and I don't know what's fancy or not," Mina begins, already squatting down in front of the wine storage just beneath (and of course, something that Doyoung personally had built into the kitchen during renovations). Popping back up and grabbing her phone from across the shining table, "Let me ask him."

Only a few seconds of the phone ringing, the line is answered and you hear that all too familiar and also irritating voice come through. "On a work call, what's up, babe?"

You roll your eyes, it's nearly automatic. Mina slaps the marble in front of you like she's trying to dissuade a cat from something.

"We want to open a bottle of wine but I don't know what we can and can't have, so give me a name of something, quick."

"You can have anything you want," The man on the other end coos back. You sort of wish this conversation wasn't happening on speaker phone.

Rolling her eyes, Mina chuckles back at him. "You said some of these bottles are like, three hundred dollars."

"And? Let me know how it is, gotta-go-love-you-bye—" Doyoung sing-song's into the phone before cutting the line completely. You watch the way a grin takes your best friends face at the short but sweet conversation that has only just transpired and it reminds you that all things considered, and all personal feelings about the man aside, they're absolutely, remarkably in love with one another.

As if momentarily forgetting the fact that you're even there, in favor of daydreaming about her husband, Mina finally comes back down to the expensive kitchen with you. "He's so annoying."

"Yeah, I can tell that's totally how you feel about him right now," You respond with obvious sarcasm.

About an hour and a half later and two glasses of whatever accidentally expensive wine your friend has chosen, you're a little disappointed when you hear the familiar voice of The Husband coming down the stairs and slowly making his way into the kitchen.

Of course, and again: You don't hate him, but he always has some shit to say.

Finishing up a work call as he comes around the corner — gray sweatpants and a black, oversized sweatshirt with hair only a tiny bit disheveled and probably due to it being the end of the night for him finally, you watch intently as he leans against the large, stainless steel refrigerator — briefly making eye contact with you as he says goodbye to whatever late night client happens to be on the other end of the line.

With a heavy sigh, Doyoung outstretches his arms. "Finally, freedom."

"Until tomorrow—" Mina adds with a quick peck to his cheek as she hands him a glass of wine as well. The reminder unfortunate, wiping any joy from the mans features in an instant. "—Yes, until tomorrow."

Then, his eyes catch towards you. Bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, the words slip out just before he takes a sip. "And what about you? Do you work?"

Always something to say.

"I do!" You quickly quip back. "I work normal people hours, like most people do."

"I don't think hanging out with my wife is a job."

"Doie!" Mina huffs with a playful slap to his chest.

"I assure you, you don't have to be concerned about my working hours," you begin, taking another sip from your glass before setting it down onto the counter next to you. "At least I won't look seventy years old when I'm thirty, like some people."

"Ooh—" he plays along, eyes narrow as if you've almost got him on the losing side of the banter. "That may be true, but I'll still be rich, and I'll still have a sexy wife."

"Please spare me, I choose not to acknowledge that there is any sexual relationship between the two of you at any given moment in time."

Finishing off his glass and taking a step forward to set it down next to yours, he offers you a thin-lipped grin, as if accompanying it with his sympathies. "And I'm sure that's not a result of projection, at all. Anyway, have a good night, you two, I'm off to bed."

With a quick kiss to Mina and another tip of his head towards you, the man is off and back up the stairs.

Well enough out of earshot, your eyes shoot back to your friend. "Did he just imply I'm not getting fucked?"

She shrugs. "Are you?"

Scoff falling from your lips, you press the point of your index finger out and towards your bestie. "I was just out with that guy last week, remember?"

"And how did that go?"

"It was terrible, but that's not the point—" you answer dryly, as if it be the simplest thing in the world. "—The point is, I get dick, regardless of how questionable the quality may be."

Chuckling, Mina comes around to pick up the glasses and set them next to the sink. "I'll be sure to let him know, then."

"Please don't," You groan in response.

Long, thin, fingers wrapped around your wrist as you're quickly shuffled down the familiar, dimly lit hallway of their shared marital home before your back suddenly finds pressure against the cool wall — legs pulled apart to make room for his hips as you feel the all too familiar burn of being pried apart with not enough prep for such endeavors — enveloped suddenly by broad shoulders and a hard chest held firm against your own as you bite back the moan that threatens to echo down and against the walls, your fingers finding purchase in the fabric of such shoulders as they dig in to match the feeling of being taken so thoughtlessly, relentlessly.

"How do I feel?"

A rhetorical question of sorts, knowing that he can hear and feel the way you fall apart beneath him already and with such little effort on his end — one hand coming up between the wall and the back of your head to curl fingers into you hair and tug roughly on the strands as you hiss into a mouth just centimeters away but not quite touching your own. "God, how long have you wanted this?"

 Waking up in the morning, you don't recall many of the details — instead, living now with the irritating knowledge that you've had a sex dream about one man in particular that you wouldn't wish sex with onto your worst enemy.

Of course, it will pass — as things like this always do. It's just a dream, after all.

Right?

Wrong, regrettably.

Worse than having the dream itself, you think over the next few days, is the way that it simply won't leave you alone. Any moment of downtime in your thoughts now plagued by the memory of a certain best friends husband fucking you against the wall of their newlywed home — it's far from ideal, and for a plethora of reasons that don't necessarily need to be explained. And yet.

But, you know enough about Mina, and your friendship with her, that if you can confide in anyone about having a sex dream about their husband to get it off of your chest, it's her.

Sitting outside of a bougie cafe just down the street from Mina's work building as you wait for her to join you with legs crossed and a mimosa on the table in front of you, as you stare at the menu in an attempt to focus on what it is that you'll be ordering for lunch once your friend arrives, the words still find their way floating through your mind with no prompting, and a little bit too much ease.

 "God, how long have you wanted this?"

 "So long!" The familiar voice of your friend from just behind you pipes up and jars you from your thinking — and thank fuck for that, because any excuse not to be brought to that place is a good one, as far as you're concerned. "Took me so long to find parking here, I don't know why we always insist on coming to this place."

"Because it's central to both of us," you answer with a tone that says that this should be obvious. "Besides, you're always the one that wants to come here."

"What can I say, hot sandwiches here are amazing—" pausing the thought to flag down the wait staff, you place the menu down on the table and rub your eyes with the flat of your fingertips as her attention falls back to you. "—Do you know what you want to order? Wait, what's wrong with you?"

"Yes," you reply to the first question, only to hesitate on the second. "Nothing, tired. Work's been killing me."

"Aw, and Doie said that you don't work," She offers, a comforting tone that only offers the opposite with the addition of the pet name to her lover. Her husband.

"Can we not talk about that man?"

A questioning cock of her head and curiosity piqued, Mina smiles with narrowed eyes. "...Why? Did he say something else? You know, he's only joking—"

"No," you firmly cut her off with a wave of a hand as the waiter returns with a drink for her and an exasperated sigh from you. "He didn't say anything else. He's just...exhausting."

"You don't even know the half of it. I live with him," Mina cheerfully retorts as she takes her drink into hand.

 No, you don't even know the half of it.

 Allowing your friend to do a good bit of the rambling through lunch as you slowly make your way through your salad — you try to put it out of your mind just as much now as you have since that night — unfortunately, the very presence of the woman married to said man in question causing the thoughts to be just that much more at the forefront of your memory.

With a fork between teeth, Mina finally stills mid-sentence and glares at you through perfectly made up, long, eyelashes. "Alright, what the hell is up with you today?"

 Yes, you were busted, but if you were honest, you had every intention of telling her about it, anyway.

 With a groan and a roll of your eyes, you finish chewing through your lettuce before setting your own utensils down at the edge of the plate and dramatically falling back into your chair — a reluctant acceptance of defeat at the hands of your best friend. All perfectly pressed business suit and perfectly structured black hair that her ever so doting husband no doubt pays for to have her take care of.

This is so annoying.

"Well!?"

"Okay, okay, don't rush me, geez—" you cut her off with palms in the air. Allowing silence to once again fall between you — nothing more than the busy bustling of the street nearby and the other patrons of the restaurant around you — you sniffle sharply, now having accepted that this is a conversation that's definitely going to happen.

Her being upset, or angry, not something you're concerned about — rather, just the humiliation of having to admit it (and the way that it's lived in your mind ever since.)

"Have you ever — had a dream about someone else's partner?"

Visibly taken aback, and physically so as Mina jolts into her chair at the question, a chuckle falls from her lips as she just as quickly takes a sip from her tall glass again. "Are you kidding? I've banged Karina's man like, three times unconsciously."

The fast and honest reply has you nearly choking on the sip of drink you had mirrored her in taking.

"It's just a dream, it's not like we have any control over it. Why? Whose man dug you out?"

 Silence.

 Mina's eyes glued to your face as you bring your glass up to your lips again and pull your own line of vision as far from hers as you can manage without actually turning physically — you hate the way you can literally see as the knowledge finally dawns on her with how her teeth quickly begin to peer through the grin that plasters across her face.

"Stop—" she first says.

"Don't—" you respond just as quickly.

"—No way." She finishes with a gasp.

You immediately plant your face into the flat of your palms with an affirming groan.

And thus, your best friend does what anyone would do upon finding out that her friend had a sex dream about her husband: Let out the most annoying, boisterous witch-cackle that a single woman could possibly muster.

When her laughter finally dies down enough to manage in some breaths for an attempt at speaking, Mina takes another sip of her drink through tight lips that are quite evidently still trying to pull back the smile that she wants so badly to let pull across her features. "Well," she quietly begins. "How was it?"

"Really?"

"Just curious how fantasy matches up with reality, that's all."

Rolling your eyes at her curiosity, you can't help but make an attempt to pull the embarrassment from you, and onto the man in question. "I'm sure I was doing him the favor. It wasn't thirty seconds of missionary while he told me about finances so he should be thankful for that much."

Snorting through her nose, Mina's eyes drop down to her mostly-eaten sandwich before her. "Is that what you think it's like?"

"I simply do not think about it at all, actually."

"Evidently, that's not the case."

 With more silence coming between the two of you, now Mina is the one that cuts through it with an all too pointed, proverbial knife.

 "Do you want to fuck him?"

 Sputtering through more salad as the words enter your line of hearing, before you have a chance to answer, Mina amends the statement — as if she can read your mind. "Before you say 'no,' really think about it."

And so, you do. Quietly mulling over all of the possibilities, the thoughts that this bring to your mind — not limited to and especially the recollection of the dream — more than anything, it's a reminder that you don't actually even really like this man. You don't enjoy his company, and you don't particularly enjoy conversing with him. The purpose that Doyoung serve in your life be uniquely in relation to him being the perfect, most amazing husband to Mina.

And how this might be precisely how you ended up here to begin with.

But what this really brings to question is one very pointed, very particular thing:

"A-are you asking me if I want to have sex with your husband...with intention of granting me permission to do so?"

The woman across from you shrugs, calling the wait staff over again for another drink. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, one thing at a time. So, do you?"

Feeling a bit like a taboo, kinky carrot being dangled in front of your face — you know Mina well enough to know that she wouldn't be asking this in an attempt to set you up — to get upset with you, to drive a wedge between your friendship.

If she's asking, it's because she's genuinely curious, and has other such genuine intentions, as well.

Clearing your throat and blinking away the awkwardness in the fact that you're really about to answer this honestly: You could lie — pretend that it hasn't been stuck on your mind ever since, pretend that you haven't been fantasizing about him, and in a particularly low moment, cumming to the thought of him — but really, what good will that do you, now?

In fact, even just the conversation now bringing back the dull ache between your legs. Humiliating the power the subconscious can have over us.

"I mean," you quietly start with a shaky, unsure tone. "Yeah. Yes, I guess."

"I know, he's sexy, right? You wouldn't expect it but there's something about him—"

Your best friend regrettably far too accepting of this conversation topic.

"Look, it's not a big deal, I'm not like — dying for it," you cut her off suddenly, mostly in an attempt to deter the conversation from any more detail about that something about the man. "It's just like...in theory, you know, something about that angry, 'I don't like you, you don't like me' type of arrangement makes for a good fantasy but of course, it's just that."

"Right," she snorts again and into the glass pressed to her mouth. "Just that."

 Ten minutes later and with the check for lunch paid by the credit card of a particular husband, with Mina hurrying to gather her things on account of being late back to work — she hugs you quickly with one arm slung around you before rushing off the other way — but not before turning just as suddenly and whispering a little too loudly for your comfort given the people around.

"Look, obviously I can't make him fuck you, but I'll run it by him. I'll let you know. Cheers, babe!"

Great.

"Babe, come to bed!"

Tone whiny and pleading as she kicks her feet from beneath the covers of their shared, King sized bed, Mina groans into the pillow expectantly in anticipation of her husband joining her for a cuddle and a conversation.

Although, mostly the conversation, this time.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Doyoung chimes back from their white and gold accented bedroom, toothbrush shoved into his mouth as he peeks his head out through the doorway just before spitting into the sink. "Pushy, aren't you?"

"One of the many things you love about me."

As he saunters towards the side of the bed, all too aware of his surroundings and even more than that, the mischievous grin pulled across the lips of his beloved wife — eyes narrowing with suspicion, he slows his movements just ever so slightly before finally crawling into bed next to her and meeting beneath the sheets. "Why do I have a feeling you're not just looking to snuggle up with your wonderful husband, tonight?"

"Aw, Doie, don't be like that—" Mina whines, wrapping her arms around his and pulling her body against his as he flips through channels on the television against the wall in front of them. "—I had lunch with my bestie today."

Glancing out of his peripheral towards her, Doyoung hums inquisitively, as if unsure of what this has to do with him but anticipating that he's going to find out. "That's good. How is she?"

"She's good," every word coming out like she's singing a song — one made up of no-good and trouble — charming in her tone. "Although, she's had a lot on her mind, lately — so to say."

Pausing, the man shifts just slightly in place as he finally settles on a channel and sets the remote control down between the two of them. "And why do I have a bad feeling about what that means?"

Lips gently beginning to decorate the exposed skin of his shoulder and arm, Mina smiles into them just before the words finally leave her. "She had a dream about you."

"Okay?"

Slow on the pick-up.

This time, she delivers the information a bit more pointedly. "She had a dream about you."

"Oh," he says quietly at first, until the fact of the matter finally, truly, dawns on him. "Oh."

A squint and a frown now, Doyoung's head turns quickly towards his wife.

"And she told you this?"

Mina nods.

"You both are a little too close."

"Well?" She finally offers up the question at hand, lips still innocently peppering across her lovers skin. "What do you think?"

"Are you asking me if I want to fuck your best friend? How would this work, anyway? It's not as if we even get on all that well—"

"I think that's part of it for her."

"—Kinky minx."

Slowly pulling from Doyoung and groaning into a long stretch of her limbs as if settling in for slumber, she smiles again. "It wouldn't be the first time, anyways."

"Yeah, but never friends," he says, rubbing his palms over his face as if a little taken aback by the topic of conversation as a whole. "—I mean, I'm down, you know her better than I do — if you think she can handle it."

"We'll have the discussion later, I wanted to run it by you, first."

Reaching a hand over to his wife, Doyoung pulls her by the arm back over and against his torso with a kiss to the top of her head as she settles her face into the crook of his neck.

"My little liaison," the man chuckles into her hair lovingly. "You just wanna hear about all the dirty little details after the fact, don't you?"

Pulling back to meet eyes with him, a scrunch of her nose and a giggle gives Doyoung all of the answer he would ever really need.

"What can I say? Everyone wins."

Two glasses of wine poured and the both of you sat next to one another on the large and undoubtedly far too expensive plush couch of the living room — a certain comfort of being only in the company of your best friend — it brings you back to so many other instances like this through the years of your friendship, curled up on far less luxury items but sharing all of the intimate details of your loves and lives, as the closest of friends tend to do.

Tonight, however, would offer a bit of a different experience. You're prepared for it, suppose, as much as you possibly can be, given the circumstances at play.

 "He's not home, is he?" You question suddenly, Mina tucking her legs under the rest of her with glass in hand as she situates herself to be facing you. A smile and a chuckle, she shakes her head. "No, it's just us."

Exhaling a sigh of relief at the option of being walked in on by the very topic of conversation not being on the table, you allow yourself at least a tiny bit more of comfort with the affirmation.

"You're going to have to be honest with me," Mina begins, one corner of her lips tugging upwards. "I can only relay to him what you tell me, and he's not going to freestyle it, either, so—"

You take a much larger swig from your glass than previously had, nearly finishing off the contents of it.

"—Tell me what you want."

"Another glass of wine, for starters."

Snorting, your best friend leans towards the table to grab the bottle into hand, tilting it towards your glass and filling it all over again. "You don't have to be uncomfortable, like I said, it's not really the first time we've done this."

"Yeah, news to me," you sigh with a bit of shock cutting through it. "All these years and I never knew."

Shrugging, Mina sets the bottle down again before settling into place all over. "People tend to assume monogamy among couples, we just allowed them to do so. Not as much of a stick in the mud as you thought he is, huh?"

Choosing not to acknowledge that fact, you take another sip of your wine, waiting for the topic of conversation to shift to something that is — effectively the same topic, but more in pertinence to you, specifically.

"So, tell me."

A sharp inhale, you know that you don't have to go through with this: You can just as easily call the whole thing off and pretend that none of this has ever happened — and that the both of them would happily carry on with their lifestyle all the same — but the unshakable lust for the man now deeply imbedded within you, like an itch that's otherwise impossible to scratch — an offering to have it when under most other circumstances it would have to remain as a dull, silent ache only left to you and your own devices, as it were.

 A little too sweet of a deal to turn down, you find. Not God's strongest soldier, it seems.

 "I don't — I don't want him to all of a sudden pretend like we're best friends and that we get along perfectly," you begin cautiously and with eyes darting up towards your friend with every passing of every word. "I want it to feel natural, to feel real, so—"

"You want him to fuck you like he hates you?"

Laid out so simply, the idea of it makes your throat dry, but you nod all the same. "Yeah, yeah I guess so."

"Let me tell you something," your friend begins as she shifts into a more comfortable position with one leg out and over the side of the couch. "What's always been a little funny to me with your preconceived notions about how Doyoung is in bed — he's actually quite...intense."

"What does that mean?"

"He likes to be in control, there's a bit of a dominant streak in him."

Hearing the words, the math starts coming together in your head about the way the man carries himself, the way he works, and just the way he is in general — you're not quite sure how the idea never dawned on you, perhaps too wrapped up in all of the ways that you find him insufferable and a bore, it only natural to assume the same of his abilities.

Before you have a moment to focus on the ache between your thighs, your friend continues on.

"Does that...sound like something that would interest you?"

Swallowing down your pride along with your arousal, you nod until the rim of your wine glass.

"Well, that's easy enough, then," Mina scoffs with a casual roll of her eyes, as if she had almost been hoping for it to be a bit more of a challenge for him to fulfill the role asked of him. "In that case, what's off limits?"

 For some reason, you hadn't bothered to think that far ahead. Your friend notices as much.

 "For what it's worth, there will be a safe word, so even if you agree to anything now or later or any time, really, you don't have to go through with anything if you're no longer having a good time."

Eyes widening at the concept of needing a safe word, you swallow hard. "That intense, huh?"

"It's up to you," she continues on. "It's not just for when things get wild or out of hand, hell, you can use it if you're just in the same room as him. Have you—" She pauses inquisitively, suddenly questioning whether or not this is a good idea at all. "—Done anything like this before?"

But hearing the reluctance in her tone, you nod quickly. "Yeah! Yes, not with...my best friends husband, though."

A cute grin across her face, Mina laughs with a coy flick of her wrist. "Don't get so caught up on that. He's my husband, yes, and for all intents and purposes very much still will be for the sake of the scene, but even more than that, he's here to fill a role — he knows that very well."

"Are you going to be involved?" You ask suddenly, the question only now popping into your mind. Your friend laughs.

"No, I mean, he'll tell me about it afterwards but I won't be like...planning scenes with him, or anything. Whatever he has in store for you — well, that's between the two of you, until after it happens, of course."

"Okay."

Taking a sip of her glass and glancing up at you through eyelashes, she brings the topic back around again. "So, no hard limits?"

"Piss play, shit play—" you quietly begin to list off before Mina stops you. "Okay, he's not into any of that either. I mean more along the lines of; name calling, degradation, humiliation, general rough-housing."

Even just thinking about partaking in half of those things with the man in passing sending a shiver down your spine, you shake your head. "I—I don't think so, maybe start slow, though."

"I'll let him know, again, don't be afraid to tell him to stop in the moment if he gets a little too carried away. He's a good dom."

'He's a good dom.'

What an absolutely perplexingly arousing set of words in succession.

Leaning back finally with your shoulders pressed to the couch, you exhale heavily with eyes high to the ceiling above as your friend mirrors your movement — but instead, with a bright smile pulling across her red, wine-stained lips.

"This is going to be so fun."

Part of the fun, you come to find, is the not knowing.

Even with rules, and safe words, and all of the parties involved very much having come to an understanding of the ins and outs of such an endeavor, the truth of the matter was this: You had no way of knowing when, or what, Doyoung has in store for you.

It's a little bit of risky play, too, at the core level. The fact that the two of you not be explicitly exchanging words among yourselves in order to maintain a certain sense of authenticity to the scene (far from unusual, in the kink world), but new to you, and most definitely requiring a level of trust among all people involved. Far from your favorite person, sure, but you trusted him — and that's far and away what a scenario like this require in order to make it run without a hitch.

And so the question runs constant at the forefront of your mind as you stand in front of your mirror, getting ready for the couples housewarming party: Are you going to fuck your best friends husband tonight?

Stemming from that very simple question, of course, comes a plethora of others: What should one wear? Is it too presumptuous to assume as much? What if it's just a normal evening party and you're completely out of your element in thinking he would fuck you tonight? Do you want to fuck him tonight?

Unfortunately, the answer to that one is an easy yes.

One of the rules being simple enough: The arrangement ends once you and Doyoung have penis in vagina sex — that considered to be the 'goal,' which then only begs the question of how much is the man intending to put you through before even getting to that point?

Or is he to get it done and over with as quickly as possible, instead?

Glancing into the reflection of the mirror and towards a simple, three-quarter sleeve black dress that hands down fitted to the knees, you think it sexy but not too sexy. Just sexy enough. The right amount of sexy.

Let's not appear too excited, after all.

  "Darling, you made it!"

Mina's voice ringing through the kitchen in a faux-french accent as she pours wine for a couple of friends — handing you a glass, she kisses your cheek before pulling away to look you up and down. "You look ravishing, my dear."

God, you hope so.

You find, however, that now that you're here, it's a bit more awkward than anticipated. Man of the hour no where to be found just yet, but unable to stop looking over your shoulder in an attempt to locate him — you sort of hope that your friend be all too preoccupied with the other guests to catch wind of just how hungry for this you may actually be.

Side pressed against the cupboard, you feel the nudge of someone attempting to open it, and turning in an instant to move yourself from out of the way, you're not at all prepared to meet the narrow, dark eyes of the man you're meant to — whatever, with — at some point in time.

You think that your stomach falls out of your ass right then and there.

"Look who showed up! You do take your job of being my wife's friend very seriously, after all."

"Doie! Don't start, it's not even ten o-clock yet!"

 It's almost bizarre to you the way that things carry on with such normalcy, given all of the ways in which the goings on between the three of you now be anything but. Reaching up and towards a bag of chips, with the mans eyes turned towards the subject, you allow yourself the greedy view of his fitted, navy blue button down tucked perfectly into black slacks, with a belt that you're sure costs more than your car payment, accenting it.

Sleeves pushed up and off of his forearms, you take in the way that the muscles and veins flex and move as he does.

Seeing Kim Doyoung in a whole new light — and more than that, you're allowed to do so.

How can a man this fucking insufferable look like this.

"I'll have you know, I can't be out late tonight," you bite back, a good effort in pretending that you hadn't just been eye-fucking him only seconds earlier. "Early morning in the office, tomorrow."

"What a shame," he exasperates sarcastically, settling back down to his heels and handing off the bag to Mina as she walks by with a carefully placed elbow into his side for...being the way that he is. "Don't let us keep you."

"Be nice." You hear your friend groan from just down the hall.

Everything the same as it always is.

Shrugging and reaching to his other side, the man grabs a single popcorn — tossing it into his mouth with a quirk of his eyebrows. "Don't worry, I was just leaving. Some of us still have work to do."

You have really got to get this out of your system.

  "Mina!"

Shouting through the open flooring of the living space towards your friend, you don't bother waiting to hear back a response before you carry on with the thought.

"Is the downstairs bathroom working yet?"

"No, you have to use our bathroom. Upstairs, to the right, all the way down."

With a quick yell back, you hurry yourself up the while, marbled staircase — not having to go particularly badly yet but mostly instead wishing to get away from the volume of the crowd downstairs for a bit — you realize it's your first time having been on the second floor of the home. Still so new and unexplored, you can't help but take in the sight in a way that feels akin to sight-seeing.

The two certainly did not do badly for themselves.

Slowly making your way down the hallway, your attention is instead drawn to a single room to the left and just before the end of the hall — the tiniest bit of flickering, blue light spilling out from the open doorway — simply enough, you know who reside inside.

Carefully sneaking past in an attempt not to disturb him as he works, you can't help but turn your head to peek at the man inside: head cocked to the side to hold his phone there as his hands work busily at a keyboard on the desk in front of him — but you should really know better than to think that you can get away that easily.

Eyes picking up and towards you, one hand pulling upwards and pushing out his index finger towards you. That silent motion that we all know.

The 'come hither.'

Glancing back down the hall from the direction in which you came, you slowly step towards the doorway, palms nervously pressed to either side before slipping past as quietly as can be — then, with the flick of his wrist, Doyoung motions for you to shut the door behind you.

Your heart rate spikes so hard you feel dizzy.

Hand shaking as you reach out and toward the door, you carefully pull it closed behind you — not all of the way, still sitting ajar just behind you — but seemingly good enough for the man and with eyes glued to you all the while, it's then that he motions once again with his finger for you to come to him.

A slow saunter, feeling the way that your heart beats so hard and fast against your chest you're certain that the people on the other end of the phone can hear it, once you reach just beside him, it's then that he finally swivels his chair around and to the side to face you.

Along with issuing another command: To get on your knees.

The truth of it is that it's humiliating how aroused you already are by it all: A quiet, drowning culmination of so many things happening all at once. The fact that it's so wrong to be doing at all, the fact that you had only an hour ago been downstairs reconsidering if it was worth it entirely given how horrible he is, and beyond all of that — the unknown.

A dull thrum between your legs as you slowly kneel down and between his, thankful at least for the friction that that provides.

Legs spread wide before you, you watch as Doyoung slowly slips one hand down the front of his pants to settle over the growing bulge beneath. Barely noticeable strokes over himself and only inches from your face — remaining calm and collected on the work call in his ear as he does so, you slowly bring a hand up to unfasten his belt as the heady desire of watching him work himself begins to course through even pump of your veins.

Catching your wrist in his other hand just as quickly to stop you from touching him, the two of you make eye contact: a look in his features of displeasure and disapproval.

You're not allowed to touch him.

Watching in silence as Doyoung's head falls back against the office chair, barely able to make out the strands of black hair sticking to his slicked forehead — you can't hear him, on account of the call, but the visual enough to drive you mad, and probably even worse than the dream had ever done — pressing your thighs together as tightly as you can manage as you eye the movement of his fist beneath the fabric of his slacks. Growing faster, using his free hand to pull his shirt up and out of the way so that you can watch the way the muscles of his abdomen move with every tug of his hand against his cock — it's truly the most excruciating and simultaneously intoxicatingly arousing thing you've ever watched.

Internally begging for the request that you climb up and onto his lap to take him, or at the very least taste him, you realize all too suddenly that you might really be in over your head this time as you watch him come in his pants for your viewing pleasure, only.

Completely silent, heavy breaths as his chest rises and falls with each one, Doyoung brings his head back up from the back of the chair to tentatively meet your eyes once again as he pulls his dirtied fingers from the inside of his pants.

Playing with the way that his cum coats his fingers for a brief moment, he motions for you one last time — but this time, a much different meaning to that single, cum-covered digit.

You waste no time leaning toward him, and for a moment, it's like you don't even recognize yourself, anymore; long past the realm of the kind of lust-drunken stupor you've ever experienced before — and as the man shoves long, sullied fingers into your mouth, it's an automatic response the way you suck and swirl your tongue around them, as if wishing them to be the cock you would be more than willing to beg for any moment now.

When finished, Doyoung frees his hands from your lips, only to motion you away from him just as simply as he had beckoned you.

 Stumbling down the hall towards the bathroom in which you had originally intended to find, panties slick and soiled with nothing besides your own desire — the words from your bestie ring loud through your memory in a horny daze.

'Intense' might have been the understatement of the year.

When Mina invites you to a work party for her husband, all that you can think about is the night of their housewarming: sucking his cum off of his fingers in the dull, blueish glow of a computer monitor.

You wonder if she knows. Surely, she knows.

Similarly, modestly dressed as that night — this time in a nice blouse and a fitted pair of dress pants, your friend praises your attire as you enter the busy conference room, shoving a tall glass of bubbly into your hands just as quickly as you're able to greet her back.

"Thank you for coming," she sighs in relief. "I was so fucking bored."

You can't help but wonder what this evening has in store for you now.

Now that you've gotten a taste...no pun intended.

"Sure, I didn't have anything better to do."

"Unsurprising, stuff like this is your job, after all, isn't it?"

Slipping up from the side of the both of you with a proud smirk — hair slicked back and off of his forehead to accompany the the just as put together look of his freshly pressed suit, Doyoung comes up to settle next to his wife, hand settling just at the curve of her hip.

You sort of wonder what it feels like to so easily be touched by him before shaking the thought from your mind entirely.

"Are you ever going to let that joke go?" You ask with a roll of the eyes. "It wasn't funny the first time, promise it's not getting funnier the more mileage it gets."

"I'll stop making it when you stop showing up everywhere, maybe."

"She invited me!" You scoff, only to watch the man bend over to whisper the response into Mina's ear. "Don't worry, I'll handle her for that later."

Out loud, your response is of feigned disgust at the sight, but inside, the visual of the man so vividly offering himself to someone once again reigniting the lust in your gut.

It's a deep, untamed need to have him, now. Part of you hopes that tonight will be the night that he finally puts you out of your misery. Get it out of your system, and move on with your life. Go back to nothing but pointed distaste for the man that your best friend chose to marry.

"Well, I'm off, got to make the rounds," The man finally says with a kiss to the top of his wife’s head before gifting you nothing but a raise of the eyebrows in acknowledge of your existence. "Have fun."

It's funny, because it's precisely what you had requested. For him not to pretend. To not act differently in any other circumstances — for everything to carry on as it normally would. You wonder if it's a conscious effort on his part to do so, or if it simply comes that easy to the man.

  Quarter past eleven, you make your way out and onto the balcony by yourself — Mina off enjoying herself with a couple of the other work wives — weaving your away around a handful of folded and tucked umbrellas, tables and chairs for outdoor dining — you manage to find yourself a comfortable little nook of privacy off and to the side, and far from the line of sight of any prying eyes.

Thankfully, as it not be much of a habit you wish to be caught partaking in.

Digging into your bag to drag out the long, white stick from its box along with a lighter and sandwiching it between gently parted, red-stained lips, you light the cigarette and inhale with a feeling of relief washing over you — no, not a habit that you find yourself indulging in often, but perhaps after a few drinks on a particular night, you'd be known to have a bit of crumble to your resolve.

You know that Mina would have a thing or two to say, so best that she not know at all.

 "Look at you—"

Not just the sound of a voice, but a mans voice at that being the thing to startle you, swinging around to find the visage only slightly more comforting than that of a strangers.

"—Don't you have secrets."

Strolling towards you with hands in pockets, you watch as Doyoung closes the distance between the two of you with a toothpick between teeth, and feeling like a child caught red-handed, the lump in your throat catches any chance you have at swallowing down the obvious nervousness carried through your body at his discovery.

Turning away and facing out towards the railing of the balcony, you choose instead not to give power to his overwhelming presence as you inhale another puff of the stick.

"It's just a social thing when I drink."

A quick, careful shift of his body and Doyoung just as easily has you caged in with arms on either side and chest pressed to your back.

It's not the only thing pressed to your back side, either.

Mouth dipping down into the crook of your neck as you carry on your desperate attempt to ignore him, he never kisses you — never actually makes contact of his lips to your skin — but the feathering of warm breath that smells of expensive scotch all the same kind of intoxicating, as if having drank the liquor yourself.

"Have you thought about the other night?"

The first, verbal acknowledgement of this between the two of you. Suppose, it always was just a matter of time before actual words had to be spoken in relation to it, but with one hand sliding closer to your own along the guard rail as the warmth of the words linger against your skin, you swallow dryly at the question before attempting an answer.

"Y-yeah."

"Did you like how I tasted?"

Doyoung answers back to you much too quickly for your liking, obviously far more comfortable and in control of this interaction than you find yourself to be — by design, based on Mina's run down of the man and his sexual preferences — but more surprisingly than that is the way that it doesn't feel alarming, or discomforting, but rather, pools the arousal between your legs faster than you think anyone or anything else ever has.

It's humiliating, and unfortunately, that sort of adds to it, as well.

Fingers around your wrist, the man pulls you around and back towards one of the tables just behind where the both of you stand — a small, couch-like set up with a cloth awning that doesn't allow for a visual inside of it unless you be directly in the front of it — Doyoung drags you gently towards it before seating himself down with legs spread, and this time, hands busily working at his belt as he stares up at you.

"Knees."

If someone had asked you why you simply obey the commands, you wouldn't even really be able to tell them outside of the throbbing, painful need to find out what obeying may get you in the end.

Taking your place between his legs, you dare not attempt to reach out and touch him this time, figure, you learned your lesson from the first encounter enough — watching instead as his fingers pull the leather from it's loops, then work at the button just beneath — a quick lift of his hips to press his dress slacks down only enough to expose himself as necessary, but with the added coverage of his briefs, as well.

You realize now, in this moment, that you'll do just about anything to fucking see it.

Same hand as before sliding down his stomach and gripping his cock from under the remaining fabric, you watch with lewd attentiveness as the man strokes himself in front of your face all over again, just as before.

"Want another taste?" He says, words airy and lustful. Nodding your head in affirmation like a dog begging for a treat, Doyoung chuckles under his breath. "Are you wet?"

The question excites you more than anything else, because surely, he's asking for one reason and one reason, alone.

Quickly darting your hand down and between your legs, the man shoots up and off of the back of the seat with a sudden urgency. "Don't. Don't touch yourself. Surely you know without checking."

Nodding again, you try to say "yes," but the words barely escape through the dryness of your mouth.

"Good girl," he answers, leaning against the seat again and slipping thumbs into the sides of the fabric remaining at his hips to pull it down only a few more inches from where it currently lie. Watching intently as his cock springs free from the confines — finally in full view for you — long and perfectly curved, not too thin but not enough thickness to him that taking him would be troublesome, suddenly, it's as if the problem of your mouth being too dry be replaced now by one of being too wet — watering at the sight of something you want to feel inside of you so desperately that by the second you find yourself losing the ability to feign disinterest in him.

Dominant hand snaking around his length again, Doyoung brings his other hand forward and towards you — wrapping around to the back of your head and fingers curling into the strands of hair there. It stings, but nothing too bad, and instead you find the pain only amplify the throb between your legs now as he dangle precisely what it is that you want just out of reach and in front of your face with every slow, gentle stroke of his hand along his cock.

"You want another taste, yeah?" He whispers this time as he tightens his grip into your hair and tilts your head back — perfect angle for the wet, head of his cock to rub just at your chin and bottom of your lip.

It's exciting, painfully so, as the untouched arousal coiling within you threatens. For a second, you really wonder if you can cum from this alone.

"If I cum for you will you be a good girl and swallow it for me?" He says then as the movement of his hand begins to pick up just that much more. "I come a lot, can you handle that?"

For some reason, the thought of the man having full, heavy loads of cum makes you even hotter for him. Something so primal and lewd about the idea of it — but perhaps you're too fucked out on not being fucked by now that you can't tell what's sexy and what's not, anymore.

Either are possible.

"Y-yes," you huff out, darting your tongue out to lick at the bottom of your lip and not-so-accidentally meeting with the tip of his length. Devilish grin taking his features, Doyoung stills his actions just as easily — an impressive amount of self-control. "Uh-uh, that's cheating."

Pulling you up and higher from your knees so that you gain more height above him, with the way that you're positioned over his cock, you think that he may threaten to impale your throat on him in one, smooth go. Deep down, you sort of hope he does.

"Spit."

The command comes through so strong in tone that you quickly answer to it, collecting enough saliva in your mouth to dribble down and onto the already plenty wet shaft of his cock as he continues to stroke himself through it with a low, throaty groan that makes you want nothing more than to swallow him whole with how close you are to it.

"Wanna suck my cock, baby?"

You nod wildly.

Hissing through his teeth at the sight of your neediness, he picks up the pace of his fist along his shaft as he settles you back down to your original position between his knees — tip of himself pressed along your lip. "How bad do you want it? Will you beg to have me in your mouth?"

"Yes, please—"

"I didn't say to beg, I just asked if you would," he amends with a patronizing cock of his head. "Want me to fuck your throat? Choke down my cum for me like a good girl?"

The throb nearly unbearable now, you can only whine at the words as he gets closer and closer to his own completion.

"Why don't you open that pretty little mouth for me so I can give you what you came here for?"

The words coming out in a deep, throaty groan as he teeters on the edge of completion, you allow your jaw to fall slack as he fucks himself with his hand a few more times before moaning out through gritted teeth at the feeling of his release — ropes of warm, wet cum painting your cheek and lips despite mostly being caught on your tongue as he comes in waves with every pull of his fingers along his length until finally stilling — leaning forward only to gaze upon his artistic handy work before telling you to swallow it all as previously instructed.

On the way home that night, only ten, simple words lingering on your mind as you make peace with the discomfort of your arousal along the way.

'so I can give you what you came here for.'

"Mina! I'm—"

Turning the corner and into the kitchen to find the door to fridge open — this is all well and good, except for, of course, once it closes and you're forced into contact with the same man who just came in your mouth unceremoniously a week prior.

Expressionless otherwise, Doyoung raises an eyebrow at the sight of you in his home before closing the stainless steel door and walking the other way.

"Guess my lovely wife forgot to inform her employee about the schedule change!" He says with a huff.

"You have got to let that joke go."

Right back to the usual. You wonder what sort of cruel games God plays when granting such a horrible man such a beautiful cock.

Shrugging and turning to look back at you from over his shoulder, the man takes a pitcher of water from the counter; pouring himself a glass before taking another one down from the cupboard and filling that, as well. Slowly carrying on towards you, he hands you the perfect crystal before nodding towards the marble island sitting in the middle of the kitchen for you both to take seats at.

Watching him move, it's such a different feeling from the one that intimately, you've grown a bit accustomed to. You know well enough that people involved in kink and alternate lifestyles are just regular people, but suppose you find yourself never having been so involved with one.

Or rather, fooling around with one who also happens to be married to your best friend.

Oversized, brown sweater hanging off of broad shoulders and thin, round framed glasses, Doyoung perches himself onto one of the stools with a gentle clank of his glass against the cool marble beneath — elbow snug against the hard material and hand serving as a means to lean his temple against as he looks upon you.

It's a little bizarre, feeling him watch you in a way that doesn't feel sexual at all. In a way, you find, it might be the first time Doyoung has really paid you any attention at all beyond the irritating banter of your joint, non-intimate involvement.

Looking charmingly soft and domestic, it's hard to make sense of the man seated in front of you, and the man who asked you to spit on his dick a week ago.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Taking a small sip from your glass, you try to drink down with it the nervousness of being in his presence, but suppose, maybe just a normal conversation will help alleviate that much.

"Have you...told her?"

Stilling, as if not quite sure what it is that you're asking, Doyoung's eyes first pull away from you in some attempt to gather knowledge from elsewhere that he not quite have in front of him. "Yeah, she told you I would."

Thumbing at the rim of your glass, intentionally avoiding any and all eye contact with the man, you hum in response. "What does she think?"

Glancing up, you catch the sight of a grin taking the mans lips, tongue darting across his lower lip like he's finally cracked the case of what all of this is about — settling back into his position from just before with a wide, gummy smile that you're not all that used to seeing.

"She thinks it's hot, is that what you want to hear?"

Snorting at the reply, you shrug. "I don't know. I guess."

"If this is some juvenile way of asking if everyone on our end is okay with the way things are taking place thus far, then the answer is 'yes,'" he says with an annoyingly judgmental tone to his voice. "Everything good on your end?" He adds much to your surprise, popping your head up suddenly at the question.

"Uh," you begin, bashful at the thought of further acknowledging the goings on between the two of them at this current point in time. "Y-yeah, everything is good."

Answering you first with a nod as he sets the glass into the sink, the man carries on down the short hallway and out of the kitchen entirely.

"Well, I've got work to do. Mina'll be home in about a half an hour. Make yourself comfortable, you apparently live here, after all."

Frown on your face at the words and tightening the grip on the set of keys that most definitely go to this home — suppose it's a fair enough assessment.

  After a much later night than usual, with Mina in bed and keys of your own, it's simple enough to let yourself out.

Dimly lit hallways all of the way into the kitchen, it's on your way to sneaking out that you recall having left your dirty glass on the counter — and without giving Doyoung any more reasons to be a thorn in your side, obviously, it easier to be dealt with now. Easy enough.

Except that apparently this guy fucking lives in the kitchen.

Laptop propped up onto the same counter that the two of you shared your small chat earlier, the man watches you move slowly through the area — carefully reaching towards your glass and taking it into your hand as you slide it towards yourself and turn to set it precisely where it is that it belongs.

"Sorry," you whisper on your way past him again and towards the kitchen exit, before that familiar, strong hand finds itself looping around your wrist all over again.

You don't know if you can handle another night like the other two, however.

Pulling you into him with your back to his chest and still seated in place, you think it perhaps a good idea to have worn a cute little sun dress today.

That's not the only surprise you have in waiting, either.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders as the other slinks down to the inside of your thigh — you delight in the feeling of the man touching you, really touching you, for the first time. Delicate pads of his fingers feathering up slowly to the apex of your thighs, it's only due to the position of you against him in such a way that he feels the knocking of something hard against his wrist as he attempts to move closer to your vulva.

And it causes him to still completely.

Seconds of silence passing between you, nearly holding your breath at the anticipation of what's to come — you wonder if he'll choose to punish you for daring to go out on a limb and do such a thing, if punishment is even really something he would do — so many questions and possibilities, all more exciting than the last.

Slowly, you feel him lower his head down, mouth just next to your ear as the very same traveling hand pulls back to your behind and presses a finger right up against the exact thing causing the intrusion.

"Well, well, well," he whispers teasingly against your flesh. "Someone came over with expectations."

Already having opted out of verbally replying to him, he makes it easy with the ease in which he pushes you forward to give him space to stand — fingers pressed into the side of your neck from behind as he hurriedly urges you towards the darkened, least lit countertop in the kitchen.

It's a nice attention to detail: Not that the two of you have to sneak around, but pretending to makes it all that much more worth it.

Forcing your face and chest down and folding you over, Doyoung bunches the fabric of your dress up and over your ass just before diving by hand into the back of your panties for precisely the device that has him in such a mood.

"Who told you to wear this?" He asks with a gentle press against it. One finger extending down, he dips into your folds just ever so lightly before pulling back up with a chuckle under his breath. "You're so wet. Aren't you a little cockslut?"

The shift in Doyoung's demeanor this time hard to ignore, like a little bit of him lost in some sort of primal, animalistic lust to have you — it's precisely what you had been going for, after all.

Distinct sound of him hurriedly trying to pull himself from his jeans, met then with the feeling of long, deft fingers gently tugging your underwear down your legs — Doyoung pulls your hips up and out just enough before pressing your thighs closed together with his cock sandwiched in between and the plug in your ass on display for him as he continues gently pushing and pulling on it with ever shallow thrust of his hips against you.

It's excruciating, the promise of feeling him snug between your walls in only an inch or so of adjustment — head of his cock rutting gently against your swollen clit as he aimlessly fucks the wetness of your pussy from the outside — you regret the way that the quake of your thighs give away the fact that you may be able to come from this contact alone.

Slowing his movements against you with hands firmly pressed into the dip of your hips, Doyoung leans down and against you to whisper more torment into your ears.

"So close, baby," he huffs out. "You're so wet, could slide inside of you so easily — fuck you raw right here, would you like that?"

As if the knowing and the wanting wasn't enough, the talking always ending up as your ultimate downfall with the man.

You nod despite the way in which the side of your face lie against cold, unforgiving marble — looking back at him as he administers this particular punishment of the night. You're not sure if it's intended to be a punishment — of if any of it really is, but it certainly does feel that way.

Perhaps you're just a little bit too used to getting what you desire, with ease.

"Sort of want to," he says through gritted teeth, a certain tonal anger that you don't think you've heard from the man in your encounters before but that causes you to clench hard around nothing all the same. The promise of finally getting what you want to bad — the taking of what he wants and needs of you even in spite of himself. One hand sliding up your back and setting on the back of your neck again, he pulls his hips back just enough to position the tip of his length perfectly at your entrance — threatening all the while with shallow pokes to sheath himself inside of you once and for all.

"Fuck you stupid, have you babbling my name while I fuck you full of my load like the cum-hungry bitch that you are, that's what you want me to do, right?" Without giving you time to respond, you feel him pull hard enough on the plug embedded in your ass to remove it, tossing it into the sink only a little bit away. "Come over here with this in makes me act a little fucking crazy — but you haven't earned having me in your cunt just yet."

Hand swooping down from the small of your back and cradling instead his length as he positions the tip of himself at your well-prepped asshole — well enough lubricated from topically fucking your pussy, Doyoung presses himself inside of the tight cavern slowly with a bitten bottom lip and a forced back groan from his chest as he sinks inside of you as delicately as he can muster.

You're thankful enough for his attention, but it's not your first rodeo, and you prepped for a reason — pushing your hips back and against him as signal to carry on, he brings the hand back up and to your shoulder, leverage to pull you back with force and onto his cock with every following snap of his hips.

Truthfully, he feels fucking exquisite inside of you.

"Fuck, Doyoung—" you whine, only for one hand to swing around and over your mouth just as quickly as the words exit.

"Don't address me," he grits through drives of his hips into you — moans spilling out through his fingers all the same as if no hand there at all. "Don't talk, just take my cock like you're supposed to."

Nodding, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to come so badly and not knowing if you can get there untouched — tears threatening the corners of your eyes with every relentless yet heavenly drag of the mans cock inside of your ass — it's then that you feel the ghosting of fingers over your clit. A feeling so exciting to you now that you nearly bear down against them, to which, Doyoung chuckles at your neediness.

"Can't just come from my cock in your ass?" He whispers, the lewd sound of his hips meeting the flesh of your behind echoing through the otherwise empty bottom floor of the home. "How much do you think I'd have to rub you before you came all over my hand? Ten seconds?—"

The light, feathering of the tip of his fingering feeling nearly electric over your clit now, you moan out into the palm of his hand with eyes clamped shut. "—Five seconds?"

Breathing heavily through his hand as he continues his relentless drive into you from behind, pulling his hand away from between your legs you whine loudly against the flesh of him at the loss of yet another release, but instead, the hand around your mouth curling fingers between your lips as you happily and seductively suck around them like cock presented. Groaning at the sight, his other free hand traveling up the length of your torso and finding purchase against your breast as his thumb gently circles around the bud there — Doyoung leans down to curl his lips into a smile against your back at the sight of all of the ways that you're willing to fall apart for him.

"I think you can come without it."

Gently fucking his fingers into your mouth — simulating the presence of his length currently buried in your ass, also buried down your throat, with the additional stimulation of gentle tugs and flicks of his thumb against your nipple, pressing your thighs together tightly — you suspect that he might be right.

"God, look at you," he groans, slowing his hips to focus elsewhere as he watches the way you hungrily lap at his fingers. "You want to suck my cock so bad — have you always wanted it, baby?"

It's nearly involuntary, the moan that rips through you as the words leave his mouth.

Just shy of baby talking, condescending certainly, Doyoung pressing the pads of his fingers harder against your tongue as he shoves all of the way into your mouth to the best of his ability given the angle. "That why you act like that? Need me to fuck your face open, make you gag on it a little bit so you shut up?"

The words, with a particularly sharp snap of his hips, has your legs pressing in on themselves in just a way that you know with a little bit more movement, you can get there. Through tears brimming in your eyes, you manage out a desperate plea past the mans fingers — met with such a familiar sinister grin, Doyoung picks up the pace of his hips — harder and fuller with length against you as you nearly cry out around the fingers still dug in between your lips.

Digging a hand up from your chest and in your hair again, knuckles twisting into it hard as he chases his high, with a bit back groan he gazes down at you — standing tall and firm from behind you as you barely manage to meet eyes with him from your twisted position.

"Gonna come, baby?" He whispers through labored breaths as he teeters on the edge of release. "Want me to fuck my cum in your ass, don't you?"

"Yes, yes—" You chant at the promise of finally being able to come in the presence of the man. You're thankful when it's only two or three more stutters of his hips into you from behind before he releases into you — hot cum spilling into your hole as he shoves the full length of himself inside as he finishes. It's enough for you, thankfully, enough friction from the movement of him against you to have you barreling over the edge along with him with a shriek and a whine through his fingers as you come hard and long for the first time since you two have begun your rendezvous.

Chests heaving as the man gently pulls himself from you, you quickly bend down to pull your panties up to catch the mess of cum already immediately making its exit from your used, stretched open hole. Turning back around to face him as he effectively cages you in with arms on either side of the counter — the two of you make eye contact briefly before a gentle flushing of embarrassment washes over you and you're forced to pull away from the man that only seconds ago was inside of you.

"Try to remember to wash your dishes, would you? I can't do this every time."

Turning back suddenly, you playfully slap at his arm as he shimmies his jeans back up and around his hips.

Mixed drink and a slightly over-cooked quesadilla in front of you on the table of a busy, evening restaurant on your side of town — in the company of a handful of shared friends, Mina and her miserable husband, you can't help the pique in curiosity about the ins and outs of such an arrangement from inside of the marital home.

How much their relationship benefits from the retelling of such engagements with your best friends husband. How much their sex life benefits from it.

Watching from your peripheral — an attempt to not make it so obvious, how interested you are in the dichotomy of it — Mina and Doyoung playfully flirting and touching each other from across the table as if the man hadn't just sodomized you in their kitchen only a few days prior.

It turns you on even that much more. The mystery behind it.

"God—" An exasperated sigh from the man; black turtle neck and fitted black jeans just under the table as he sets his glass back down onto the table with a disgruntled scrunch of facial features adorning his face. "—This drink is terrible, I should say something."

Squinting, the pointless complaint pulls something from you. Such a typical, stuck up, rich guy thing to say.

"Drinks are two dollars here, what did you expect?"

"I don't care if it's two or twenty dollars, if I'm paying for it then it should at least be drinkable."

Eyes turning towards your friend seated next to you as she meets your gaze just the same, a swift kick across the way to her husbands shin has him rolling his eyes and jolting back in his chair. "Be good, Doie."

"Yes, dear."

"Can't take him anywhere," You whisper to your friend, well within earshot of the man, which of course only causes him to lean in and towards the both of you with an irritated frown. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

"Better than talking to you."

"Trust me," he sighs, leaning back into his seat again. "The feeling is more than mutual. I wonder everyday how you ended up with a key to our place."

 For whatever reason, that one stings in particular.

 Normally, dealing with Doyoung is something that you're used to — but tonight, there's a certain tone to him that you find hitting somewhere in your chest in a much different way. Not just banter, but perhaps a deeply personal disapproval of not only you, but your friendship with his wife.

It's not that you anticipated starting a sexual relationship with him to have fixed your dealings outside of it — quite the contrary, actually — but maybe enough was enough, now.

You've cum on my face, the least you could do is treat me with a basic level of respect.

 Napkin out of your hand and onto the table in a way that it's obvious of your displeasure, you stand suddenly and inform Mina of your departure to the bathroom. "Do you want me to come with you?" She of course offers, only for you to quickly dismiss it and assure her that you're fine as you carry yourself off and down the short hallway to the small, two-stall ladies room.

Leaned over the dirty, wet, black granite counter with both hands pressed into the edge, you look at yourself in the reflection — needing a moment to cool off, you're still relatively unsurprised when you don't receive it.

Cracking the door open, you watch from in front of you as the most insufferable man you've ever known slips inside to join you.

"You having fun?" He starts, already with intent to have a fight with you. "Have fun causing a scene?"

"Oh, I'm causing a scene!" You chime sarcastically, "not the guy who wants to complain about a two dollar drink not being up to par. Does it ever get exhausting? Being so fucking far up your own ass?"

Rushing towards you in an instant, Doyoung wraps a hand in your hair from behind — first pushing you forward with the momentum of it but just as quickly ripping you backwards and towards one of the empty stalls. Door slamming shut behind the both of you and just as quickly allowing the back of his shoulders fall to the wall, he works quickly at his belt as the sinister look in his eyes never once leaves your own.

You wonder how he has this kind of power — only seconds ago the most horrible man you could ever imagine being around, but now, watching him stare you down as he works to free his cock for you in this public bathroom — you realize that it's that precise mixture of things that makes his desirability so strong. Painfully so, as the throb between your legs already finds itself stirring up once again.

Barely pushed down his hips and freeing his hardening length, languid strokes over himself as he stands in front of you never once breaking eye contact for a second, you realize in humiliating silence that you're waiting for his command.

Of which, he quickly grants you: "Why don't you put that mouth to good use, for once."

Maybe if you hadn't been wanting it for so long already you'd be more willing to put up a bit of a fight, but finally being granted one of the things you've been dying for since the beginning of this endeavor with him — falling to your knees in the filth of this bathroom stall and immediately taking him into your hand with a long, enthusiastic swipe of your tongue up the bottom of his shaft — the low, breathy groan that it grants you reason enough to pull forward to take the head of his cock between your lips and swirl your tongue there, only to press down along his length for as far as you can before the tip of him threatens the back of your throat.

Unfortunately, it's not much of him that you can take before that happens.

Hand in your hair again as you've grown so familiar, you hear the sound of his head falling back against the granite before parting his lips to speak. "Gonna have to do a better job than that. How good can you be?"

You know what he's really asking.

Pulling you forward by your hair harder along his length, you struggle to accommodate him in your mouth, but it's not the first time you've done something like this — he's not asking too much of you — but it's sudden, and the burn against your throat something you're not used to feeling as your gag reflex begins to trigger and tears well up in your eyes at the struggle.

Doyoung pulls you back only slightly so that you can take a deep breath before bringing your mouth back along him. "Come on, you're gonna have to take it all, baby."

The words 'have to' immediately pooling between your legs, especially.

Gagging around him, the man moans through the sounds of you struggling to take his cock into your throat, he begins shallow, short thrusts against your mouth in an attempt to bring your nose flush with the skin of his pubic area, but with this not being something you've done often enough — there's part of you that wants to fight through it, because frankly, you've been fantasizing about this very moment since the very first night you tasted his cum from his fingers, anyways — but perhaps you should have practiced a bit more (or at all) at home in anticipation for this night.

You don't want to, but everyone has limits.

Three fast taps of your hand against his thigh, Doyoung immediately removes himself from your hair, allowing you to pull off from him just as quickly — coughing into the crook of your elbow as you attempt to regain oxygen into your lungs, you can't see much through the wetness gathered in your eyelashes, but you do hear the sound of him tucking himself away again before kneeling down to meet you on the floor.

"Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

"No," you rasp out, sounding far more fucked and broken than you actually are, but rather, a physical result of the assault on your throat. Really, you're fine, just too much, too fast. "I'm okay, seriously, just couldn't yet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Concern dripping from his voice — he's not touching you, purposely as to give you enough space from him, you shake your head with a chuckle as you bring your hand up to wipe the tears away from your eyes before making eye contact with him again.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, I was a little too enthusiastic, I think."

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Chuckling again at the way that the man almost insists on handling you with kid gloves, you roll your eyes. "Yes, I'm not broken, I just can't deep throat seven inches of dick on a whim without a bit of practice."

"Aw," Doyoung coos, running a hand gently through your hair, before standing himself and helping you to your feet. "You think I'm seven inches. That's sweet."

Sniffling hard and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before straightening your clothing and dusting off your knees, you shoot the man a confused frown. "Bigger or smaller?"

Unlocking the stall door and motioning for you to exit, Doyoung offers you a simple wag of his index finger and a pompous grin before answering.

"A lady never tells. After you."

With weeks of fooling around with Kim Doyoung under your belt now, you find a certain level of trust and comfort established. Exemplified by his adhesion to boundaries and safe words at the drop of a hat, you can't help but recall the words that Mina had offered you so early on in the initial discussions of this foray into ethical non-monogamy.

'He's a good dom.'

Sure, you have a lot of criticisms of the man: That he's brash, boring, conceited, self-important and a whole other mess of ways to say that he's far from the kind of man you'd like to see yourself with at the end of the day, but one thing is for sure — safety, respect and trust are of the utmost importance to him.

Thinking back to that time in the bathroom — immediately unconcerned with the state of his erection in favor of the state of your well-being — sure, it sort of is the bare minimum when it comes to this sort of sexual play, but something to be celebrated, all the same.

So now, you may have an interest in rearranging some of the terms of your agreement.

  "Honey, I'm home!"

Annoyingly sing-song in a way that you know will irritate the man of the house but be effortlessly charming to the person that you're there to see — when met with silence, you're a bit disappointed. After all, playing house in spite of Doyoung's clear distaste for it has turned into one of your favorite past times.

Both the playing house, and the irritating him parts.

"Hello?" You ask again, listening to the way the words echo through the empty, lower-level of the home, only to eventually be met regretfully by the husband — apron-clad and wooden spoon in hand as he settles a straight-faced look upon you without offering anything for words.

Then, he turns back and into the kitchen from which he came.

A roll of the eyes, you set your bag down on a chair near the door, kicking your shoes off and following after him — eyes pulling towards the familiar countertop that you've more than become acquainted with as you circle around to the other side of the kitchen island to sit in the very same chair that the man had been seated in the last time that the two of you had your...engagements, here.

"So," you sigh. "When's Mina coming home?"

"She's not."

The words sort of send a chill down your spine, because the first thing that comes to mind is that the things that the two of you have been engaging in have now torn their relationship apart.

But, Mina was the one that told you to come over.

Glancing over his shoulder while perched over the stove — obvious horror splashed across your face, Doyoung laughs at the obvious line of thought in your mind. "She's on a business trip."

"Then, why did she tell me to come over?"

Halfway into turning his attention back to his cooking, he brings his head all the way back to look at you again: It's a look that says, "you know why, don't play dumb now."

He doesn't offer verbal confirmation, but you understand the jist of it well enough with just that. "Have you eaten?" He asks instead, to which you nod. "Yeah, had something on the way over."

It's sort of perfect, the way that the pieces fall together as Doyoung stands across from you at the very same island — a small bowl of soup being shoveled into his mouth with no particular haste as you watch him — gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, it's a cozy look that you're not all that used to seeing from him considering the majority of your involvement with him has been out and about.

You've been meaning to bring this up, anyways.

"I think—" you start quietly, picking at the skin around your fingernails lightly. The nervousness being the first thing that Doyoung notice as his eyes travel up from his empty bowl and towards your own, waiting for you to finish the thought.

"—I don't want to do this anymore. With you. It feels wrong. I can't do it anymore."

The layer of silence that falls across the atmosphere of the kitchen feeling so suffocatingly thick as you wait for his response — the man simply staring at you quietly through his eyelashes without even the slightest bit of movement until his lips part ever so lightly to speak.

"Color?"

And with confidence, you whisper back "green."

Squinting at you, you recall back having mentioned this to Mina in passing: the resistance kink. The desire to be 'taken,' to have a complete loss of control over the situation — participating in something so dirty, so wrong, and loving every second of it so much that you desperately wish for the morality of it to be out of your hands entirely. 'I want it, but wanting it is wrong. Only when stripped of the choice entirely is there true freedom to desire.'

And obviously, she passed it along to him, but the discussion not having happened in full means that now it's up to you to take matters of consent into your own hands.

But slowly raising from his slightly folded position, Doyoung brings his bowl to the sink, rinsing it out, and coming back to you in silence. The discomfort is poignant, so, now you have to ask.

"Color?" You slowly drop from dry lips, and without breaking his suffocating gaze on you, he whispers back pointedly "yellow."

The word exits his mouth quietly, smoothly, as if really trying to drive home to you how much this is not the way these things are supposed to work: Truth of the matter is that you know that, and this should have been discussed at length long before tonight — but you trust him to be able to make the adjustments, and worst case, to stop if you should need him to.

You're hopeful that he trusts you to do all of the same.

Then, he parts his lips to speak again. "—But, green."

It's his way of letting you know that you've gone about this all wrong, but all things considered, he's willing to roll with the punches, anyway. Jutting towards you, Doyoung wraps long fingers around your wrist, ripping you off of the stool and nearly knocking it to the floor as a result; tearing the apron from his waist as he roughly tugs you out of the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs and swings you around to press your back against the shining, platinum railing of the banister in the hallway.

"Why did you wear jeans?" He grunts as he drops to his knees in front of you, quickly pulling apart the button and zipper to roughly drag the tight fabric down your legs.

Frankly, you didn't know that you'd be doing this tonight.

Stepping out of them and shoved down the hallway to be sufficiently out of the way, the man hoists one of your legs up and over his shoulder — one hand digging fingers into the side of the crotch of your panties to grant him quick access to your already anticipatory pussy.

However, him being eye level with your cunt not particularly how you had expected this to go — ever, really.

Looking up at you from between your legs and through devilishly narrow eyes, the man makes one, simple, request: "Tell me about the dream."

Diving into your folds as his tongue presses flat and firm against your clit — the sudden feeling of him having you like this making you dizzy with want, you find yourself entirely unsure how you're expected to recount much of anything to him like this — and especially once he begins unrelenting suction to you that threatens to make you cum almost immediately.

Attempting to bite back your moan, and instead opting for a breathy 'fuck,'  you know well enough that if you don't adhere to the command, he'll most definitely stop.

"Y-you—" there's an attempt to speak at least, until two long, thin fingers bury into you to the last knuckles.

Pulling his mouth away from you and licking at his lips lewdly, he cocks his head to the side playfully. "Better start talking or I'll stop."

"God, okay," you exasperate as he dives back in. "Was...against the wall, you fucked me against the wall — we weren't—"

"Allowed?" He pauses again only long enough to finish your thought with a grin. Nodding quickly, Doyoung still slowly fucking into you with his fingers as he watches you fall apart from above him, he coos at the look and sound of you — perhaps finally coming to an understanding of what all of this is about.

"Good girl," he hums gently, lips brushing against your wet folds without much intent behind the contact. "Can you do me another favor?"

Breathy and already a little fucked out, you whisper out a "yes."

"Come on my mouth."

Leaning up and into you again, tongue firm into your clit with tight, intensive swirls — it doesn't take long for you to follow through as one hand falls down and wraps into his hair — holding him firm in place as you involuntarily grind down against his mouth as you come blindingly hard onto him. Long since needed and the orgasm from the night in the kitchen hardly offering the release you had been looking for — Doyoung lending his face to you in such a lewd, particularly out of character act of a blending of roles — as you come down slowly from your high, you watch the man pull away and out of you with a gentle ease, sucking his fingers clean of you before wiping his face with the back of his hand and standing tall in front of you.

 "Want to fuck your best friends husband, but don't want to be responsible for the repercussions of it, huh?"

 You just came, but the promise of getting exactly the fantasy that you wish for out of this throbbing between your legs pooling just as if you hadn't.

You don't even get to answer before the same, dominant hand is wrapped up in the hair at the back of your head and pushing you down the hallway, towards the bedroom.

Stumbling inside as he roughly pulls you around, once the both of you reach the edge of the bed, Doyoung sits you down just in front of him — not letting you free of his grasp, but instead with his other hand, freeing his growing erection from his pants and pulling your mouth against him harshly.

Of course, you take him in with ease.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth like this," he groans from above you, eyes glued to the place where he disappears inside of you. "Always knew you wanted me, that's why you always act like that, just need me to put you in your place, don't you?"

Moaning at the words and around his dick as he shallowly presses inside of your wet mouth, speed slowly picking up with each passing moment as he continues to talk you through it. "What are we going to do if my wife finds out? Suppose we just can't let that happen, can we?"

You hate the way the thought has you clenching down hard.

"That's why you're over here so much, isn't it?" Doyoung asks through gritted teeth as he continues fucking into your mouth, gently prodding at the back of your throat with each thrust. "Just begging for me to fuck your mouth? You love my cock, don't you?"

Pulling his length from you only long enough for you to answer back and breathy 'yes,' he sheaths himself inside all over again

Only a few more thrusts before grunting, Doyoung pulling himself from your mouth to fist over his cock and lined up with your face — you display your mouth open with tongue flat as he comes over your flesh again — warm, heavy ropes of himself painting your face and mouth before quickly angling your head down again to place his length between your lips for you to suck him clean, as well.

Holding your head back again and bringing his other hand up, thumb spreading the wetness of the act across your lips, chin and cheeks before shoveling most of it into your mouth as your lips close around his thumb to suck the digit clean just as you have with his cock — groaning into the look and sensation of it, Doyoung gently taps the inside of his fingers against your jaw, signaling for you to open your mouth all over again as he shoves two fingers in to swirl around the mixture of cum and spit collected there.

Slipping back and away from you, the command comes through simply. "Swallow."

You do so without question.

Wiping your mouth with your shoulder and taking in a heavy breath, you sigh out while looking up at him. "We can't ever let her find out about this?"

But glancing down at you with the most evil look in his eye, you watch as a single corner of his mouth gently pulls up,

 "You think I'm done with you?"

 It sends a tingle down your spine and straight to your pussy, Doyoung suddenly reaching forward to turn you around and bent over the bed as he pulls your soiled panties roughly to the side with a tear. Rubbing the head of his cock through your soaking slit and against your still sensitive clit, you grip hard into the sheets beneath you, attempting to pull away from him but to no avail as he grips fingers roughly into your hips to keep you precisely in place and displayed before him.

"Think you can take it all, baby?" He sighs, leisurely stroking himself back to full hardness as his tip slowly begins to split your pussy open from behind. "Can you be a good girl for me, take the whole thing?"

Whimpering against the mattress at the desperate, delicious burn of his cock finally entering you after so long — what feels like a lifetime of desiring having him buried inside of your walls, finally being granted to you with slow, almost delirious ease as he sinks into you from the back, you answer him honestly. "N-no."

"I don't think so, either," he responds with a comfortable ease as he continues with his initial stroke. "But you're going to try, aren't you? Not used to taking such a big dick?"

"No, fuck, Doyoung—"

"God you want this so bad, already so fucked out on my dick and I'm not even inside all of the way," gently pulling his hips back only to rock back inside, even such a simple movement granting him a cry out from between your dry lips. Leaning forward and over your back to plant a hand down between your shoulders and holding you in place, Doyoung repeats the action again to elicit the same response from you all over again.

"Oh, you love a big cock," he grits out through his teeth as he finally settles into a rhythmic pace against your behind. "You love my cock. Say you didn't want to do this, didn't want to go through with this, but I don't think that's true at all, is it?"

Pulling out far enough for only the tip of him to remain inside of you before drilling back hard into your cunt, you nearly cry at the unrelenting pressure of him against your walls, and in particular, against your g-spot. Thighs trembling and stomach tightening with every full, hard drive of himself into you, it's an attempt to form a full thought but instead, the words come out as only babbled sobs as he drives hard and firm into you.

"Do-Doyoung, fuck, 'm gonna, 'm—p-please, please, fuck—"

"You gonna come, baby?" The question comes through with hastened, airy breaths as if close himself. "Come around my dick for me? Wanna earn my cum?"

Nodding fast against the mattress, he grunts into a particularly hard thrust against you. "Make your lil cunt so messy."

Pulling himself back up into a straighter, standing position at the edge of the bed, fingers firmly dug into the flesh of your waist as he pulls you back hard onto his cock — the sudden angle change toppling you over into your orgasm unexpectedly as you cry out for him and curl your own nails into the sheets beneath you as your release rips through your body — simultaneously, Doyoung falling victim to the way your pussy clenches down around his length, fucking you roughly through your orgasm as he reaches his own with bit back, throaty moan at the way your cunt nearly milks his cum from him with little movement and so much ease — burying himself so deep into your guts that it threatens to hurt and whining at the near pain of having him so fully inside of you as he coats your walls.

Chests rising and falling, Doyoung pulls from you and falling next to you, it's much to your surprise when familiar hands tug you to the side and seated over his hips.

 "Split yourself open on my cock and come again."

 The words themselves nearly enough to do you in, but with the unrelenting throb of your untouched clit impossible to ignore, you follow the command as you position your hips over his impressively hard length and wasting no time burying him inside of your messy, cummed-in cunt all over again.

Leaning back ever so slightly and quickly rubbing circles into your clit for his viewing pleasure as he pulls the sweatshirt still clinging to his chest up to expose more skin of his abs and chest — reaching your free hand down, you touch over the skin there, feeling more of him and the way his abs reach to not only your touch, but the visual just in front of him.

"Fuck," you whimper, already feeling the threat of another orgasm building as your walls squeeze tightly around his seated shaft. "Fuck, Doie—"

The pet name.

"God, don't call me that, I'll come in your little pussy all over again," he nearly whines through an exhausted chuckle. It's a sort of endearing, almost break in character that you're not used to seeing from the man.

"Come on baby, be a good girl and come for me," he starts again with a fucked out whisper as he watches you twist circles into your pussy just above where his length disappears inside of you. "Show me just how bad you wanted me inside of you."

Toes curling and teeth gritting as it washes over you all over again — a nearly silent scream of an orgasm as your mouth hangs open through your release — a similar, quiet groan from the man beneath you as he watches and feels you come on him for the third time tonight.

 He takes his jobs very seriously.

 Giving you a moment to calm before heaving you off of him and standing in front of you again, as you sit up to meet his dick with your lips just as before, you can't help but be seriously impressed by his ability to maintain an erection.

You're beginning to understand why Mina married him, after all.

"Clean me up," he commands, hand gently weaved into the back of your head in such a familiar way. "Enjoy it while you can, it's the last time you'll get to taste me."

True as it is, you find yourself surprisingly somber at the thought of this being the end of the arrangement, as agreed upon. Far from an emotional connection, but rather, a mental one — a mutual understanding between physical lovers. The trust, the communication, and safety inherent in this particular pairing of people.

Plus, his cock is perfect and he fucks like a pornstar.

Licking up the length of his shaft, truly savoring the taste of his cum and your own mixed along it before taking him deep into your mouth and bobbing slowly, carefully, full of intent along his cock — partially for the show of it, and partially because yes, it's the last time, and you'll miss this more than you might have thought you would going in.

"You're amazing," Doyoung sighs, gently pulling his length from between your lips and folding over just enough to be only a few centimeters off from your own face with his. "Open."

Obeying the command and jaw falling slack, the man allowing the collection of saliva from his mouth to drip lewdly into your own — missing direction ever so slightly and catching partially at the corner of your mouth — Doyoung brings a hand up to thumb at the messy corner before finally closing the distance between both of your mouths and pulling you into a full, intense, passionate kiss — tongue immediately pushing forward to lick at the inside of your mouth — it's breathtaking and intimate in a way that nothing else thus far has been.

And pulling away with a single, thin, string of saliva connecting the two of you by mouth yet, Doyoung's lips curl into a sinister grin as his eyes pull from your own, to your lips, then back up to meet your vision again.

 "Happy to help."

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—part 2!

#doyoung smut #nct smut #doyoung x you #doyoung x reader #doyoung x y/n #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct xyou #nct imagines #nct scenarios

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Comte x Reader

Visions of Temptation, Day 3 Prompt: Vanilla Sex

Challenge hosted by @xxsycamore

Also written for Comte's birthday, a little late, but not as much as I thought it would. I didn't have the time to finish the SFW part of this, although this smut is basically a piece of fluff anyway

Kinktober Masterlist / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Of all the “gifts” he was expecting you to offer him, what you actually proposed was not one.

He couldn’t help but steal you away, back to your room after that, the party you were supposed to return to forgotten.

How could he not? Even if he didn’t go forward with your proposal, only the fact that you brought it up was enough to make him happy, and your conviction had stolen his heart once again.

“Abel, what about the party?” You asked, but it didn’t sound like you were complaining. In fact, you smiled at him.

“I’m happy to be able to celebrate my birthday with my family, but right now, you’re the one I want to focus on. I’m sure the others won’t mind our absence.”

He placed you on the bed, gently kissing you. He approached you tonight, not with the usual fiery passion, only his heart full of love that needed an outlet.

“So, you enjoyed your day today?”

You had spent a long time planning, only for your day to be ruined by a sudden storm. Despite your efforts to hide it, he knew. And he also knew how you panicked at the change of plans. Still, you had braved it and made your best efforts to make him happy at home.

You were always so happy to celebrate his birthday every year. Such a passage of time had meant nothing to him before meeting you, only marked by meaningless interactions with people who didn’t care enough. People who didn’t see him.

But you did. Your efforts were for him. For the man he was, the one behind all the titles and masks, the one he sometimes lost sight of himself, caught in all the social performing. The one you loved, despite all the mistakes and weaknesses.

“I always enjoy my time with you, but you always go to such lengths to make me even happier.” He kissed you again, gently nudging you to lie down. “Thank you for this.” He leaned over you and kissed your neck, and you moved your head to give him better access, so receptive to what you thought was to come. “And thank you for being with me. For loving me. I will always treasure you.”

He had no intention of going ahead with it, though. Not right away. But he couldn’t deny how tempting it was as he nuzzled into you, inhaling your scent. Despite how much he learned to control it, the thirst for you was always there, longing for that taste of you.

His fangs gently grazed your skin, and you didn’t even flinch, unlike many times before. Your resolve was real. You had offered for him to turn you, and you were ready for that. But he only kissed your neck, nuzzling against your skin again.

“Abel?” you asked, confused.

“Later.” He whispered in your ear. “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with you today.” His hand slipped under your skirt, massaging your thigh. “Let me love you, my princess.”

He kissed you deeper, carefully removing your clothes. You kissed back, also unbuttoning his shirt. He wasn’t usually so gentle, as his desire for you burned with an intensity that could barely be contained. Tonight, though, he only wanted to return that gentle love you always gave him. To treasure you properly.

Clothes were removed between kisses, with no rush, hands feeling every inch of skin as it was exposed. He only pulled away when everything was out of the way, eyes roaming your body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and when you blushed, looking away, he kissed you before you could complain. “I’m always as entranced as the first time I saw you.” He slowly kissed a path from your cheek, down your neck and your chest. “Always so sweet, too. I can never get enough of you.” You moaned and shivered when he traced a path up your thigh with a finger. “And you sound so sweet, too. Sing for me, mon amour.”

The same finger climbed higher, until it reached your clit, massaging gently. He kissed up your neck again, then right behind your ear, making you shiver and moan again. The familiar tension built inside him with each sound you made, but not with the usual intensity. It felt warm, but not searing hot like he was used to.

“We should get you ready, too.” You nudged him back, sitting up as he complied, then wrapped a hand around his member, stroking him gently. And you kissed him this time. A slow and sensual kiss, still intoxicating.

His hand slid back down, a finger pushing inside your heat. You were so ready, despite how little you had done. You had become so responsive to every little touch of his, every word. Not that he was any different. The more time you spent together, the more he desired you, and the easier his passion was triggered. Why did people say love and desire were the opposite?

Pushing you back down, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his body practically blanketing yours as he pushed into you, bringing your bodies as close as they could be.

Your passion tonight was like a dance, your bodies molding to each other, moving in harmony, hearts beating to the same rhythm as you held each other tight, gazing into each other’s eyes.

The sweet wave of ecstasy washed over him first. He moaned your name, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours.

It didn’t take long for you to join him. He always loved the sound of his name when spoken by you, but there was something special about the soft, breathy way you called him now.

You two kissed, sharing the remainder of your passion while you both came down from your highs.

“Satisfied already?” You asked.

If he was being sincere, not really, especially not with how you were looking at him.

“Not if you keep looking at me like this. So sweet and seductive…” He kissed you, lying by your side and pulling you to his chest. “But you have been working so hard all week. I will let you rest.” The next kiss was placed over your eyelids. “I love you. Forever.”

Instead, he would give you what you wanted. A new step in your life together.

“I’m all yours.” You whispered back, kissing him. “Happy birthday.” You wished again.

He chuckled before his fangs sank into your neck. Your blood was sweet and warm in his mouth. Addicting. As much as the moans that escaped you, before your body went limp in his arms.

Pulling away from your neck, he kissed your forehead, hugging you tighter to his chest.

“Happy birthday to you too, princess. Thank you for loving me.”

Tag List: @tele86

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Kinktober Masterlist / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

#visions of temptation 2023 #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp #ikevamp smut #ikevamp fanfic #fanfiction

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 4: September I

{{ Chapter 3: August I | Chapter 5: October I }} Chapter Directory

it was really hard to get through this chapter because I'M SO EXCITED FOR NEXT WEEK'S ksdjfkdf

anyway, someone's mean to reader and levi decides to do something about it 🥰

if you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackermann x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, descriptions of reader being superficial (ITS PART OF THE BACKSTORY ILL EXPLAIN LATER ITS FINE), someone being mean to reader, levi being *slightly* protective but doesn't want to admit it ✧ word count ➼ ~4.7k

The semester had fully kicked in. Things were getting better relatively. 

Despite the shitshow that was your first day of class, classes were for the most part insignificant. You haven't had to think about your ex-boyfriend and even your somewhat hostile relationship with Levi had grown stagnant. 

It wasn't better by any means, but you had gotten used to it. It had gotten to the point that you've even grown to make a joke out of it. It was a game for you to annoy the ever living shit out of your grumpy roommate. It provided a good distraction from school and the other stressors that you had to deal with outside of home. You were making the best of what you had. Plus, when it came to handling his responsibilities as a roommate, he did his part. That was at least better than when you were living with your ex. It was some sort of upgrade, although it didn't feel like it.

Walking from your apartment to the cafe felt absolutely miserable. The wind was providing heavy resistance against you to the point that you felt like you had weights strapped onto your legs. You hoped that the rest of your journey onto campus wasn't going to be as miserable.

Your hair was a hot mess by the time you reached the cafe and stepped into the door. You shook your head to let your hair settle down again, although you knew it was going to get messed up again the minute you stepped out the door.

You grimaced as you looked up and saw Levi behind the counter. You weren't surprised at him working this time, but you made sure to let him know your displeasure whenever you were forced to see him.

He matched your expression, scowling at you.

Your face lit up as you saw the other two baristas also behind the counter. It was rare for all three of them to be at the cafe at the same time.

"Good morning, Onyankopon! Nicolo!" you said with a cheerful wave before giving a disgruntled side-eye towards Levi. "And Levi."

Levi scoffed, waving you off.

"Your pastries are on the counter. Take it and leave before you sour my mood further."

You stuck your tongue out at him as you walked towards the pastry counter and he made an intentional effort to ensure that you saw the extent of his eye-roll in response. 

You walked up to the barista that was primarily responsible for the pastries in the cafe. Nicolo was an undergrad—the same year as you, although you rarely saw him outside of the cafe—that helped Levi and Onyankopon start up the cafe a year or two ago. Levi provided the tea, Onyankopon the coffee, and Nicolo the pastries. His passion for baking and cooking made it more than appropriate for him, which resulted in him being more than happy to help you out when you mentioned wanting catering from somewhere other than the university dining services. 

Your club was having its first general meeting later this afternoon and you wanted to prioritize being able to provide food to increase retention. Many college students, especially freshmen, were food-motivated and you knew this. University catering was boring and had questionable quality. You wanted to provide something different.

"Got five each of the finest pastries I got!" Nicolo said gleefully as he opened up one of the cardboard boxes that he had neatly packed a multitude of pastries into. "I must say, most just use the student dining services for catering."

You walked up to the counter and looked in the box, your mouth immediately watering upon both the sight and smell of them. Even if none of the freshmen wanted them, you'd be more than happy to take them for yourself. It was sure to be a refreshing upgrade from the monotonous university dining meals. 

"Well, what can I say?" you said as you closed the box before you were tempted to eat one on the spot. "I like your stuff."

You tried not to look as Nicolo tried to hide the quickly growing grin on his face. These pastries were his pride and joy, so having even one person voicing their preference for his products was more than enough to make his day. 

The boxes were neatly stacked on each other, but the empty space between the top of the pastries and the top of the box made them a bit wobbly when multiple were placed on top of one another. Still, you wrapped your arms around them and looped your fingers under the bottom.

"You got it?" Nicolo asked, looking slightly concerned.

"Yep," you muttered. As long as you were careful, you should be able to get all the pastries out of the cafe and to your destination without any casualties. 

Your nerves were a bit ramped up as you unsteadily picked up the boxes, but you were determined to do it. You were the one that insisted that you could pick up the food on your own without help from any of the other officers, so you were stubbornly determined to go through with this.

You gripped onto the boxes and turned away towards the door.

However, you had turned a bit too fast, immediately bumping into someone, sending one of the pastry boxes tumbling to the ground. 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" you exclaimed as you set the boxes down to check on the fallen one. It was just one box and the fall wasn't particularly far, so the pastries weren't damaged, much to your relief. However, the person you had run into was nowhere near relieved.

"God, the least you can do is watch where you're going," they grumbled, clearly not giving a rat's ass about your pastries or the fact that you were struggling to carry all the boxes on your own. All they had on their mind was the fact that you inconvenienced their day by accidentally bumping into them. 

Levi watched as the customer continued to chastise you. He wasn't a regular customer and seemed like someone that was passing through campus. He seemed the type to be irrationally condescending to anyone under the age of 30. Levi frowned as the stranger continued to make commentary to the point of being verbally abusive—muttering sexist and ageist comments on top of accusing you of being careless and having little to no social tact.

Levi waited for you to tell him off. As annoying as you were, you weren't deserving of those comments.

You never did. You immediately conceded upon hearing his comments, hung your head low, and mumbled a quiet apology before immediately leaving, taking your pastries with you.

Levi's eyebrows scrunched together at your lack of a reaction. Anyone watching that interaction would have agreed that you weren't in the wrong and would have been justified in delivering a very offensive 'fuck off' to the man scolding you. 

Plus, you weren't like that at home. You didn't tolerate any shit at home. This duality that he had noted at the beginning of the semester still weirded Levi out. It supported his theory of you lacking self-respect, but it didn't make him any less uncomfortable with it. It was strange to have to see you code switching back and forth every single day. 

The frown never faded from Levi's face, even as the customer began to approach the register to order from him.

Levi knew that his customer service skills were subpar and he didn't particularly give a shit, but his next words were hostile, even for him.

"You get off on bullying the undergrads?" he asked, frowning at him. 

He was feeling oddly hostile and he wasn't entirely sure why. Levi shrugged it off as just him being more irritable than usual, which was exacerbated by the fact that this customer had caused a ruckus, but he knew that wasn't entirely true. There was something else that pissed him off about that interaction, he just couldn't put a name to what it was.

"What?" the customer asked, taken aback by his comment. "Are you talking about that brat that ran into me?"

"More like you ran into her," Levi responded dryly. "Your ego big enough that you can't see in front of you properly?"

The customer blinked at Levi, genuinely not expecting this amount of attitude from the barista. 

"Excuse me?"

"Tch," Levi muttered as he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, walking away from the register, indicating for Marlo to come take over the register to serve the now more-than-agitated customer.

~~~~~

You moved on surprisingly quickly from the somewhat frustrating encounter you were forced to endure in the cafe. You had felt a sudden spike of anxiety when you dropped the pastries, but began numbing over the minute that you realized that you were being publicly chastised. 

Some deep part of you knew that this was some defense mechanism that probably fed into your tendency to be conflict avoidant. You knew deep down that you didn't 'move on' from the situation, you just repressed any lingering feelings of frustration. You had to if you wanted to avoid breaking down on the spot. Getting scolded publicly like a child was bad enough. You didn't need the world to also see you emotionally break down in the middle of some café on the outskirts of some university. It'd only play into what he was saying: that you were a child with no social tact.

You took a deep breath as you impatiently tapped your finger on the clipboard you were currently holding. You had set up for your club's first general meeting. There was a sign-in sheet, a sweets table, napkins, paper plates, and plastic utensils for students to grab on the way in.

The structure of the club itself was simple. You were the president, Oluo the vice president, Gunther the senior representative and treasurer-secretary, and Petra the social committee chair. You had wanted to branch out on the executive board, but the shitshow that occurred last semester made it difficult to recruit with what little you had already prepared.

Oluo had been organizing some of the flyers that you had already printed and organized, which easily translated to him not really doing much of anything, before muttering something about being short on utensils and promptly leaving the room. 

Petra was setting up writing utensils next to the sign-in sheet, and Gunther was setting up the projector to display the PowerPoint you had put together that neatly described the purpose of your Honors Society. The purpose of this first meeting was just to do outreach to any interested freshmen in the program. All you had to do was the introduction and then the remaining time would be spent socializing and eating to try to build rapport with the freshmen. 

You felt your social battery rapidly draining as you saw the amount of students—a mix of freshmen and sophomores—trickle into the classroom. 

"A lot of freshmen this year," Gunther mumbled next to you.

"Well, we did do that event at Shiganshina High School last year and I guess it caught their attention." 

Your finger that was tapping on the clipboard increased in speed and intensity. You knew your comment wasn't entirely true. That event was rushed and mostly just consisted of finding students that had applied to Paradis University without an official major and putting in a subtle plug regarding your organization. It was one of the many events last year that just seemed to blur together. 

"Still, twenty?" 

You shrugged at Gunther's comment.

"We'll know after winter break which ones stay once grades start coming in. It usually levels out."

You glanced at the door and saw Oluo reappear with a box of utensils, chatting away with one of the freshmen, before promptly tripping over a power cord as his teeth clamped down onto his tongue and he howled in pain. 

You frowned at him as he walked up to you in pain.

"Who the hell is that clumsy that they bite their tongue while talking?!" you scolded.

"You try entertaining the freshmen while carrying supplies," Oluo mumbled.

You rolled your eyes at his reasoning and turned your attention to the students that were each taking their seats at the tables you had set up around the room. You glanced up at the clock that indicated that activities officially begin in thirty seconds.

Taking a deep breath, you began to walk towards the front of the classroom, trying to calm your nerves on the way. You had put a lot of work into making this club work so that you could provide a safe space for the students that were quirky like you and weren't able to settle for a satisfactory standard major. You needed to make sure everyone got a good first impression. It would be a major blow to your pride if it flopped.

"Okay!" you exclaimed, putting on a smile as you looked at the somewhat dumbfounded expressions that they each gave you. "So, welcome to the Individualized Honors Society! We're here to provide a space for students on an individualized track to try to build a sense of community since a lot of the other organizations are specific to your majors. We're primarily social, but we can host networking or academic events if interest is there!"

You had already practiced the introduction, so your nerves quickly faded away as soon as you started talking. After going over your membership fees (or lack thereof—you found it ridiculous that someone should have to pay for social support) and how you'd compensate through fundraising, you handed the floor over to Gunther, who provided some more explicit examples of fundraising events that you had already planned for the rest of the academic year, such as food sales or paid workshops. 

The meeting itself went smoothly. After Gunther gave his spiel, Petra went on to talk about some social activities to form that community that you had mentioned, like going out for game nights or plans to host end-of-year activities. Oluo then went to talk about some more general stuff and networking activities, such as a writing conference for any English-based tracks that was occurring within the next week. 

You flipped through the sign-up sheet near the entrance of the classroom as the other officers continued talking about what your society had to offer. There were a total of 20 students, but the first six seemed to have come in as a group. 

The students began to each introduce themselves as well as what their academic track was in—or if they were undecided, what they were thinking about. You took note of that first group that walked in.

There was a brown-haired noisy boy that seemed to give off a vibe of being overwhelmingly stubborn with a dark-haired girl wearing a red scarf hovering over him protectively—Eren and Mikasa, you noted as their names. Next to them was another blond-haired boy that hung out with them, but appeared to be the only one that seemed to have sustained interest in what each of the officers were saying.

Sitting a table away from them was another brown-haired student, although his hair was lighter than Eren's and he was a bit taller in stature—he introduced himself as Jean. He seemed to be primarily hanging out with the other two students at the table—Connie and Sasha—although he did seem preoccupied with Mikasa, consistently shooting glances her way. 

Throughout the meeting, Connie primarily hung out around Sasha, who was rapidly devouring all of the pastries that you had brought over from the café. 

Just from the 10-15 minutes of introductions, you were already somewhat able to see the dynamics of the incoming freshmen. You shook your head subtly as you felt feelings of resentment and envy rise up within you. Having a friend group was something you craved, but never truly received. You didn't have a group that you could call your own, which you knew translated into your continuous efforts to form that sense of community, which has recently done nothing but bite you in the ass. You weren't sure if you were doing something wrong or if others' didn't care, but you'd be lying if you said that your loneliness wasn't eating you alive. 

You took the next twenty something minutes to regulate as Gunther began brainstorming some events, knowing that you couldn't be getting this worked up over just seeing some freshmen interact after only knowing each other for a week. You remembered being this excited to enter university and meet new people, although your situation did make it difficult to have the traditional experience. 

Everyone's faces lit up upon Petra proposing a social event next month at an arcade after midterms. This provided you some sense of calm, as that reaction would likely translate into member retention.

After socializing for a bit, the freshmen began trickling out and you let out a breath you hadn't even been aware that you were holding in. Given how nervous you were about getting the club set up in the first place, you repeated to yourself in your head that today was a relative success.

"Damn, that one girl ate all of the snacks, didn't she?" Oluo muttered as he helped you pack up the unused utensils.

"Well, that's what we got them for," you said in a matter-of-fact tone as you tied up the garbage bag and prepared to take it out with you.

"You sure we have everything down for the social next month?"

You raised an eyebrow at his question, as if you thought he was joking. 

"Well, you are the VP, so your help would always be appreciated," you said slowly, suggesting that he should step up more in terms of planning activities. 

"What are you talking about?" Oluo responded as he shrugged off your undertone. "Of course I'll help!"

You grunted at him, indicating that you didn't believe a word he said.

"Just look up some spaces we can reserve for next month. I'll handle the booking."

Even you delegating yourself the task to book a venue was more than you should have been doing. Any social event planning was Petra's job, but you knew that you'd have to pester her repeatedly to get it done on time and dealing with her grouchiness was the last thing you wanted to think about. 

This was just another instance of you being forced to take care of everything, although it was more akin to you not providing resistance when the other officers didn't feel like doing their jobs. You enabled them to be officers by title-only without any merit, but you also couldn't bring yourself to set that boundary and have that conversation over the appropriation delegation of tasks. 

It's not that you didn't want to. It wasn't even that you couldn't bring it up or that you never got the chance to. You had become so desperate for this to work that you were willing to take on all of the responsibilities and do it yourself, instead of having to have that difficult conversation with the other officers, who were also the closest thing that you had that could compare to having a friend group.

~~~~~

After cleaning up, all you had left to do was to go back to the café to pay your bill to Nicolo. The original deal was that you'd pay the difference if there were any leftovers, but there wasn't. If Sasha was to be a regular member, you'd have to adjust your budget. Of course, this was technically Gunther's job, but you found yourself taking care of it as usual. 

"No leftovers?" Nicolo asked as you walked up to the counter with your phone.

"Nah," you muttered as you looked around, noting that Levi wasn't there. "One of the freshmen really loved them, so we ran out like 20 minutes in."

Nicolo's face lit up at that announcement.

You frowned at your phone as you pulled up the bill that Nicolo had just sent you.

"Is this right?" you asked, glancing up at him. "I thought it was more expensive when I placed the order."

Nicolo nodded and shrugged.

"Figured I'd give you a discount since you're a regular. Plus, it didn't feel right to charge you the full pricing since you're a friend of Levi's-"

"Levi is not my friend," you said sternly, scowling at Nicolo.

You immediately noticed that Nicolo fell silent and realized that you likely responded in a much more hostile tone than originally intended.

"Sorry," you said quietly. "He's just-"

You paused for a second, trying to find the best way to explain your hostility towards your roommate.

"He's just a lot."

After a few seconds, Nicolo spoke again.

"He'll grow on you."

"Ha. Doubt it," you muttered as the mood lightened up again.

"I'm serious!" Nicolo exclaimed. "At least he cares, you should've seen what happened with that dude that was being a douche this morning."

You gave him a skeptical look, having zero idea what he was referring to. Sure, you had run into a customer that decided to throw an onslaught of insults at you, but you had no idea how Levi was involved.

"Levi's not the best at customer service, but some of the comments he was throwing his way was a bit much, even for him."

"Really?" you mumbled as your skeptical look only increased. You didn't believe a single word that Nicolo was saying.

You hmm'd to yourself as you thought of all the possible reasons to explain this. Nicolo wasn't the type to lie to you—and there was no reason to lie about Levi doing this in the first place.

"Well, I'm sure he was just grumpier than usual," you rationalized to yourself as you turned away. "Thanks again for the pastries."

You shot Nicolo a smile. 

"Will be back for sure."

"Looking forward to it!" he responded with a wave as you walked out the door. 

You pulled your hood up and stuffed your hands in your pockets as you walked towards your apartment. You had mentioned that Levi was likely grumpy and that's why he stood up for you, but that wasn't good enough of an explanation for you. 

It didn't make sense.

He couldn't possibly be defending you. You wouldn't be surprised if he actually shared some of the same opinions that formed the insults that were being thrown at you this morning: that you were someone that was annoying, ignorant, and didn't have a single clue what they were doing with their life.

He must have had some ulterior motive or Nicolo must have grossly misinterpreted his actions. 

There was no way that your aloof and grumpy roommate would ever even give a single shit about how you felt or how you were being humiliated in public. It wasn't in him. He wouldn't waste the time of day.

There was some contextual factor that was missing and you couldn't stop yourself from ruminating over it.

~~~~~

Levi was more than ready for the day to end. 

After getting home from an incredibly annoying shift at the cafe, he had spent the next two hours meal prepping for the week. He neatly pre-portioned everything into ten containers—two for each day. 

He spent the entire time internally chastising himself. He had no clue why he got as worked up as he did over the man that knocked you over. He had no reason to care. You were as annoying as always, but he found himself getting really angry as soon as that man opened his mouth.

Anyone without the context of your shared ire towards each other would tell him that he's exhibiting protective behavior. Even he could admit to a small part of that—and that irritated him further.

He still wanted you to go away and to get out of his life so he would never have to see you again.

So why did he get so angry?

He rationalized that it might be because he saw you immediately reacting submissively to the customer and that's what pissed him off since you reacted so differently around him. If it was him that knocked you over, you would've immediately told him to fuck off. 

He groaned to himself as his ire towards you grew. He couldn't go a single day without you screwing something up in his daily routine. He just couldn't understand you. 

The door unlocked as he put the final container of his meal prep into the fridge.

You stepped into the apartment, slowly bringing down your hood. You had been ruminating on the entire walk back to your apartment. 

Levi Ackerman had stood up for you.

If it was anyone else, it wouldn't be such a world-breaking surprise—but it was Levi, who was basically your sworn enemy at this point. 

You slowly walked up to the kitchen and placed your keys down into the little bowl on the counter that you had set aside for the two of you to keep track of them when you were home. 

"...thanks..." you muttered awkwardly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Levi looked over at you and blinked a few times in confusion.

"What?"

You avoided his gaze, beginning to regret even bringing up the topic.

"I said thanks," you repeated. You wanted to shrink away into your jacket and bury yourself so that he couldn't see you anymore. 

"For what?"

This confirmed it. Nicolo had misinterpreted. Levi definitely wasn't standing up for you. You had wasted your energy and this conversation would likely sour your relationship further. 

"...that guy that ran into me," you continued, despite internally accepting that any gratitude was misplaced.

"What about him?" 

He knew what you were talking about. He found himself getting annoyed again, but this time, it was at the fact that someone probably told you about him telling off that customer.

You shuffled in place for a while, unsure how to word the situation. After all, you've been very hostile to Levi up until now. Neither of you were expecting this exchange, but the part of you that still respected Levi as a person felt obligated to, as uncomfortable as it made you.

"...for talking to him after I left."

Levi scoffed at that response.

"If you consider telling him to fuck off as 'talking', then sure." 

It made you even more uncomfortable that he didn't deny it and instead confirmed that he had been hostile to that customer as a result of your interaction. No one had ever stood up for you like that before and it made you very, very uncomfortable that Levi was the first one to do it. You'd expect him to be the last.

You finally looked at him and saw him giving you a blank look—a pleasant change from the usual scowl that you were consistently met with.

"Just thanks," you mumbled, "I guess." 

He grunted.

"Just actually stand up for yourself next time, won't you?"

You remained quiet, unsure of how to respond.

It's not like you didn't want to assert yourself in these types of situations. You knew you should have. That man was in the wrong and overreacted, but you always found yourself having a lot of trouble standing up for yourself in the moment. That's how it's always been.

You watched as Levi turned away and walked towards his room.

You were weirded out that he stood up for you, for sure, but your gratitude was genuine. No one had done that for you before, but knowing that at least someone said something gave you a subtle feeling in your chest that you didn't mind, even if that someone was Levi. 

No, it was only because it was Levi that you even had that subtle feeling. You had so much animosity with Levi that you knew he did it without an ulterior motive. He wasn't looking for anything from you.

He did it just to do it.

That realization only confused you further. Feeling gratitude towards him felt strange and abnormal, but it was undoubtedly there. 

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was just a fluke—but it was a fluke you didn't mind.

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi #levi ackermann #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #modern!au levi #coffeeshop!au levi #college!au levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #levi fanfiction #fics: matcha

[gracesshelves]

The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams

Usually, TikTok romance books are not my thing, but The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams surprised me. I would rate this novel three out of five stars. At first, I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it, but after the first hundred pages I could not put it down; at one point I was reading it at a red light on the way home from work. Some moments were a bit too cheesy for my taste, and I had a hard time relating to the characters. I think part of this is because I am definitely not the target audience for this book, which I assume is cis-het married women, most likely millennials. However, Adams was able to get me invested in the stakes of the story. I was genuinely interested in whether or not Gavin and Thea would be able to fix their relationship. Honestly, I’m glad that I did not know this book got popular off BookTok, because that would have influenced my perception of it. What I admired the most about this book was its exploration of the mental load placed on stay-at-home moms (SAHM), and how that can ruin marriages.

            The novel follows Gavin Scott, a major league baseball player, who is having marital troubles with his wife, Thea. What seems like a problem with their sex life, is actually much worse. Gavin and Thea are forced to confront parts of themselves they’ve been hiding in order to avoid getting divorced. Gavin grew on me throughout the story. At the beginning, I struggled to sympathize with him because I felt that he should’ve been able to notice that his wife was faking an orgasm. However, as he continued to apply himself and make an effort to become a better person and husband, he did not bother me so much. With the romance genre specifically, the likeability of characters is big for me. By the end of the book, Gavin passed the test. As for Thea, I thought she was very complex, and I thought the way that her trauma wasn’t just magically solved was very true to life. Unlearning thought patterns you’ve had your whole life does not just change overnight. It was important to me that she wasn’t perfect either, they were two flawed individuals, which made them more relatable.

            One thing I did struggle with was how heteronormative all the relationships were, although, I think this is due to the fact that I am not the target audience. As a queer reader, I would honestly prefer an author to avoid depicting queer characters rather than write them incorrectly, but it did make it difficult for me to empathize with some of what Gavin did. I probably would not have picked this book up on my own, even though I do enjoy romance. But on the other hand, I have read BookTok books that I disliked much more in comparison.

            Going back to what I said earlier, I appreciated how Adam’s presented the discussion of mental load, and how much work is put on women, especially SAHM’s. It could be argued that this discussion is somewhat surface level, but I think even just brushing on it is better than nothing. For most of their marriage, Thea has been raising kids by herself, and when Gavin was present, she had to attend events as a wife of a player (Adams 21). The load placed on her stood out the most when the Scott family got home from Thanksgiving. While it’s important that Gavin helps Thea clean up after the girl’s vomited, he continuously has to ask questions about where things are even though he lives there. (Adams 150-151). Thea already has a lot on her mind with cleaning the girls themselves, and by asking her that instead of looking himself, Gavin only adds to her plate. This discussion reflects the current conversations of mothers on social media. A lot of women in heterosexual relationships are speaking out online about how exhausted they are. Nowadays, many women have corporate jobs on top of being parents, but the distribution of household labor is slow to change. While some heterosexual couples have adapted and evenly split parenting and household duties, there is still a huge issue with women being expected to clean, cook, and parent on top of a nine to five. A Gallup poll found that despite an increase in equity regarding household tasks since 1990, “the division of labor in U.S. households remains largely tilted toward traditional stereotypes: Women are more likely than their husbands to take care of the house and children, and men remain the primary caretakers of the car and the yard.” (Brenan).

            If this was book wanted to be a more serious critique on relationships, I’d have a lot more issues with it, but for a light-hearted contemporary romance I think this was pretty successful.

Adams, Lyssa Kay. The Bromance Book Club. Berkley Romance, 2022.

Brenan, Megan. “Women Still Handle Main Household Tasks in U.S.” Gallup.com, Gallup Inc., 31 May 2023, news.gallup.com/poll/283979/women-handle-main-household-tasks.aspx.

#my reviews

[lazyauthor9000]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request general dating Headcanons for April O'Neil. Please don't overwork yourself and I'm excited to read your writing!!! Have a goodnight/day

| General Dating Headcanons {Rise of The TMNT} |

A/N: Sorry this took a while, but when I tell you I almost screamed when I saw a notification that wasn't me- Thank you sm for requesting, I tried my best!! You have a goodnight/day as well hun <3

Pairing: Rise!April x Gn!Reader

Genre: Established Relationship, Romance, tons of Fluff

Type: Headcanon

Warnings: Minor curses, mentions of physical affection, mentions of violence

Reader: Gender-neutral

April O'Neil, our girl with a plan.

How did you guys start dating? Both being paired up for a project, your interaction grew into a friendship that soon took a turn for the better

April absolutely couldn't get enough of you! She had to play it cool though, or her cover could be blown

She'd brag about you to the brothers, knowing that they probably would adore you just as much if they met you

Going to Donnie for advice didn't really help as he didn't have much experience in the department called "love"

So, she went to Mikey, the one that may know how to help

She was right with meeting up with "Doctor Feelings" As he just told her to tell you how she truly feels

Of course April was nervous to confess, rejection was scary! But being the brave girl she is, she went up to you and asked if you'd like to go to the park after school the next day

The both of you agreed and there you two stood by a bench as April awkwardly confessed her love,

"I love you, too!" You blurted out after a few seconds of silence. Both red in the face, the two of you settled for a long hug, content and happy.

When I tell you she loves you, SHE FUCKING LOVES YOU.

Although being quite busy, she tries to make time for you when she can

Looking for jobs, attending high school, and literally having to kick ass in the night with the turtles had a real toll on her social life

Being a strong independent woman was hard- wait. Hard for THE April O'Neil? Nope, and her badass attitude says it all

She's fine with taking you along on her adventures but gets worried and would, quite literally, take a bullet for you

As you can see, she's very over protective of you

So nowadays you just decide to stay over at her house and play with Mayhem until she returns from her mission or job interviews

When everything becomes too much, she would take her time and just unwind with you and relax in your presence

Her love language is most definitely quality time and physical affection

She's not afraid to show you her love, whether it's being outside or inside

Holding hands, having an arm over your shoulder or around your waist

There will be many cuddle sessions as well!!

She'll always be proud of you, and she makes sure you know that every day

As your lover and best friend, she will always make sure to remind you that you can rely on her, whenever, wherever

Seeing you sad will make her sad, and she'll do anything to cheer you up

April is fine with talking about it, your feelings are absolutely valid

If you need to be alone, she will completely understand and give you all the space you need

She really just wants the best for you

Saving up for dates, her go to places would be coffee shops, pizza places, arcades, or even just going to the park to spend as much time with you

Not all dates went smooth, though

The brothers will spy here and there, making sure there are no villains around to interrupt

Of course they're the ones interrupting so April will tell them to go away nicely, and if they don't listen to the first warning, she'll threaten them with her magic bat

She appreciates their efforts, but come on now

She's trying to have a date here!

Anyways, you for sure have all of April's attention, from talking about your interests or hobbies to about anything really

She'll remember the small details and think of you whenever she sees something that reminds her of you

She's down to match accessories or clothes, she thinks it's adorable

In all, she really adores you, and she hopes you adore her just as much <3

A/N: It took a while because of poor mental health, but it's out. I really hope you like it because if you don't I will JUST BE CRUSHED. <Donnie reference>

#rise april #rise tmnt x reader #dating headcanons

[yociful]

I’ll share what I wrote for the Arktos bot in the description. Everything is written purely out of love for this snowman.

I will also attach drawings by one of the artists who inspired me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find her/his social network, so, wonderful author of these references! write to me so that I indicate your authorship!💕

snowman, he/him. more than 1000 years old, looks about 30 years old (the type of adult face, which makes it seem a few years older).

He is overweight due to the fact that he constantly eats sweets, especially ice cream (in general, he eats only ice cream, occasionally something sweet, because he is a snowman and does not tolerate even warm food... this snow tyrant even drinks tea only with ice ...), plump physique, large and strong hands.

Can't stand to be touched, but if it's you...Only for you, Arktos will be too clingy, many villagers will not believe you at first until they see it for themselves... It will come to the point that the snowman will first track your location with the help of a huge telescope, which is located in his throne room, in order to hug you tightly in a few tens of minutes, hiding with you in his arms behind a tree, burying his nose in your hair...Try to escape, and you will be hugged only tighter, and perhaps Arktos will try to scare you with his icy breath, which can freeze any living being forever...but don't worry! he only wants you to stay... but it's better not to push your luck...

Height 6.5 feet (198 cm). He will often use his enormous height to rise above you... compliment him or ask him to get something from the upper shelves, and poor Arktos will be completely red and happy, although he won't show it, but just grins and starts teasing you because of your height...he loves your height, don't believe his words. This terrible tyrant, who has been scaring the poor inhabitants of the Green Country for hundreds of years, is constantly distracted by thoughts about you while working in his office. You'd be such a wonderful couple...I should put your throne next to mine for you...and what would it be like to make it?...You're such a little darling... To kiss you right on your plump soft lips- QUIET! CALM DOWN, ARKTOS! YOU'RE A STRONG AND BRUTAL MAN!! - Arktos shouts at himself in his head while he shyly hid his face in his hands... Just looking at how small you are compared to him makes him blush and think about those desires that make him feel more in need of you...

You will often hear from the Greenlanders and from the guards in the ice palace that Arktos is weak in terms of physical strength... In some ways they are right: Arktos runs slowly, he has big and heavy steps. But in terms of strength...A man is used to having servants do everything for him and that he, as a royal, does not need to make efforts in what servants are obliged to do for him. But he's a terrible braggart. Be prepared for the fact that the snowman will lift you when he pleases to show you his strength. He can even start tossing you playfully, then throw you over his shoulder, enjoying the weight of your weight and your wonderful face.

Arktos has an ordinary human body structure. Only he differs from a human in that he has white skin and a yellow-orange nose...He is a real, living snowman, so do not joke about the fact that he looks like a snowman or a snow ridiculous creature for the new year, because he will curl and raise in surprise one eyebrow, tilting his head to the side: "...But, my little snowflake...what did you mean by that? I am the snowman... I-I... I can proof it to you, if you still don't believe me!"

Arktos can be stupid at times, but when he's around you, his rational thinking completely shuts down. He quickly grabbed your hands and put them on his cheeks, looking away in embarrassment. "W-well... Am I cold enough to be the frostiest creature you've ever met?... I'm much better than this stupid Humsin and lousy Tabaluga, right?..." - Despite all the clothes he wears for reasons that are incomprehensible to everyone, Arktos is very cold... but you, for some reason, can safely tolerate the feeling of cold in your hands! Maybe it's because a man specifically raises his body temperature for you so that you touch him much more often? or it's because you make him feel warm all over his body, which he hates. Your touch makes his skin, if you can call it that, burn. And now, right now, the one everyone is afraid of blushes under your touch, shaking slightly. Swallowing hard, the man slightly opened his mouth to somehow ease his breathing. Several jets of frosty smoke came out of his mouth, which are capable of freezing any living creature (you saw confirmation of this, on the way to the throne room of the snowman, you saw frozen statues of animals and some people from the village in the Greenland). Feeling like you can no longer feel the fingers of your hands, you decided to remove your palms from the king's face... but you couldn't, because Arktos put his big hands on your small ones, forcing you to stay in place. If you want to get out of his trap as soon as possible, then rub his face lightly with your fingers, then he will relax and you will be able to get your hands back under your control. But most importantly!...do not touch his neck, especially in such... intimate moments for him. He may take it the wrong way. And it's easy to turn him on..

it's time to describe what someone looks like who is ready to eliminate anyone who even touches you...

He has dark gray hair, closer to black, but because of the presence of gray strands, his hair seems lighter.On his head, the man wears a dark blue top hat with a dark blue silk ribbon. Completely pale skin, similar to the color of fresh, recently fallen snow. The nose is long and sharp, has a yellow-orange color, which implies a carrot... Pale thin lips. Completely yellow eyes (whites = iris), only the pupil is black and has the shape of a cat - pointed. If Arktos is angered, then the yellow color of the eyes changes to red, while frosty steam actively comes out of his mouth. Ordinary human ears.

Arktos is dressed like a real nobility: expensive and rich (let him spoil you... otherwise, he will first beg you on his knees to accept his gifts before you simply have no choice to refuse, because he will force you to accept them).

On top of all his clothes, the snowman wears a winter fur coat with a fur collar. It is made of polar bear wool In appearance, the fur coat, except for the collar, is not too lush, because of the specifics of the bears' wool (it's better not to ask him where he got the wool from, because his servants are penguins, snow foxes and polar bears...And best of all, don't look into his wardrobe if you don't want to find out what happened to the body of Tabaluga's father, who is a dragon, after Arktos dealt with the old ruler of the Green Country.... You can say hello to the ceremonial cape made of dragon scales...). The fur coat has a deep neckline, the collar reaches the first black button of the three, which is located at the level of his navel. Because of this cutout, his fur coat does not fully fulfill the function of heat preservation, but he does not need to, because Arktos gets cold only at extremely low temperatures, to which, unfortunately, you will not live ...

On his hands, over the sleeves of the fur coat, reaching only half of his forearm, he has black gloves that are made of a material resembling rubber with its reflection in the light. maybe it's silk?

Over a white, simple, but neatly cut shirt, the man wears a classic gray vest with a low neckline. Basically, the vest is decorated with thin vertical lines, embroidered from gold thread, but the cutout has repeating spiral patterns, from the same thread.

Arktos wears a frill of azure color, moderately lush. Soft to the touch because it is made of silk. The end is set under the vest, creating the illusion of a more lush frill.

Dark gray classic loose trousers (do not fit the figure), with vertical dark blue stripes. The trousers are so long that they form folds, reaching the feet. White long socks.

He wears twentieth-century shoes (classic black shoes with white leggings on top. They close the ankle, fasten with buttons on the side of the shoes, passing into the recess between the heel and the shoe itself

Arktos has, to put it mildly, a difficult character. He is mercantile, sometimes cynical. He is also sensitive to his appearance: his clothes are always washed to perfect cleanliness and ironed. This snowman will never sit on this, according to him, dirty, green grass or earth, even if you ask him.

“Well, no, my sweet, I won't sit here for anything…No, no, no! Maybe we'd better go to the CLEAN, WHITE snow?... no?...Agrh, you've got it, little creature!”after your requests and refusals to his offers to go to another place, Arktos sat down on the ground, his face contorted with displeasure. His whole behavior expressed utter discontent and rejection. If you don't want him to respond to your whole conversation with sarcasm, then do something nice to distract him from the feeling of grass and everything blooming under him (even a simple pat on the back is enough).

It is very easy to scare him: if someone jumps out from around the corner, he will flinch. Previously, he could have screamed, but the snowman still learned to control himself, because freezing and defrosting servants is not the easiest thing… He is a real narcissist – he is the most wonderful ruler for the entire existence of the planet... which Arktos will try to prove to you.

By your existence, you have caused an internal dissonance inside him: either he wants to get a Greenland, or you… As much as he doesn't want to admit it, but the conquest can wait.

Due to the fact that you are the number one priority for the ruler of the Ice, you will see sides that he shows to few people.

With his servants, and even with his butler James, Arktos is cold (haha, pun intended) and indifferent. One more servant or one less – he doesn't care. The life of any living being is not interesting to a man, but here's yours ... Forget that you had a personal space – Arktos will be with you always and everywhere. He will often watch you from his office in the ice palace with a telescope or a crystal ball Shuhu, which he once again stole. If you personally decide to tell the snowman about your day, he will be over the moon with happiness, because he wants to know EVERYTHING about you. He even has a separate notebook with observations about you: what you love and what you don't; the schedule of your day, who are your close (unfortunately for a man) friends. Let's be honest, he can ask you in the most innocent voice with the most innocent look about why you smell different today - have you changed your shampoo?

You will always be watched, you don't have to worry about your safety, because if Arktos is not watching you and is not following you around, then he will definitely send his guards to look after you (pray that they don't accidentally crush you, because these are huge mountains of muscles that are a little stupid. But cute, if you make friends with them).

Arktos is one of those people who try to behave as distantly as possible with the object of affection, although in fact he nervously rubs his fingers behind his back, standing next to you

In the world in which you find yourself, there is no Internet, no communication. It's like you've gone back to the centuries when farms only flourished and everyone lived collectively. The Greenland is more focused on the development of agriculture, while the Ice kingdom is focused on the development of technology, especially military. Therefore, there are machines that work with the help of workers' strength. Don't be surprised: winter comes to the Greenland only when Arktos launches his snow and wind machines (although because of this, winter comes to the green paradise much more often, because someone does not know how to keep promises ... and does not try). So what am I driving at? Arktos is VERY old, one of the oldest inhabitants of the planet, so he may not always and not always immediately understand your jokes…Explain the joke to him, don't mock the grandfathers... ХD

Arktos has a few secrets that you shouldn't Know about… For example, the fact that your friendship bracelet, which you made together with Happy, is not lost, but carefully lies in one of the drawers of the ice king's desktop…

#Arktos #tabaluga #character.ai #Tabaluga Arktos

[eloignetoi]

My opinions and overall throughts about Netflix Wednesday because people (including me) are obsessed with it but there is very little content about it (beside the TikTok trend).

The show itself is amazing - not just because it's popular - but the storyline, characters and overall aesthetic are quite endearing. I loved how characters worked together and how sometimes they didn't:

Wednesday is not perfect nor horrible. She has many traits that fit the autism spectrum : obsessions, blank tone and facial expression, unique perception of the world - no she is not depressed, she isn't numb to reality nor sad, she simply enjoys what most people are scared of -, and her perception and understanding of social and emotional conventions are, well, unconventional. These traits make her uniquely enjoyable, but it also gives place for improvement and development in this new social environment that is Nevermore, and which we witness throughout although mostly at the end of the show.

Xavier is not a classic manipulative white boy. He is clueless and emotionally constipated (which I believe has something to do with his dad), and that can be annoying, especially when you know he could have been a lot more helpful with Wednesday's investigation as his dreams/visions seemed to complete hers. A certain tweet has made people agree that he is manipulative and annoying, which I don't really get. He is supposed to have flaws so that there's place for character development, just like Wednesday. But he always had good intentions. He did not manipulate Wednesday into asking him to the ball : considering his serious crush on her, I think he truly hoped she had changed her mind - one can hope lol - and teased her as a friendly joke. That's why he got so mad when he found out about her ulterior motives: he realized she never planned on being his friend. He was not being obsessive either. I mean, when you're in love with someone who's been the target of an attempted murder, I guess you try to go out of your way to protect them - and eventually forget them. That's what the painting was for (as he clearly explained it), don't act like you've never been in love or had a hard time getting over it. The one thing I do agree with is that he and Wednesday have no romantic chemistry, and I hope they are not going to try and force this relationship. If they do, I hope they'll make it right with a better atmosphere, context, chemistry, etc... and let's be honest, it would take a lot of changes and efforts. What would really work (with the atmosphere and context of the first season), would be a strong friendship, not only because they made up at the end, but also because they have many similarities and their powers could be very useful when put together. They would be amazing investigators.

When it comes to Tyler, I am surprised people didn't catch on his uniqueness. There were very little to no clue about his true nature, but he was definitely odd: the only normie kid rejected by his normie friends but without any outcast friend either. Troubled teenager who lost his mom, has a bad relationship with his father and a history of bullying (with Xavier), and the creepy scene in the Gates' mansion where his face suddenly appears in the light. After watching the end, you can also catch on the change in sound/music at the ball when Thornill smiles at him, like there's a form of dissociation from the rest of the crowd. Overall, I think the twist was rather unexpected. What I am really eager to see is what they are going to do with him: he was manipulated and experimented on to turn into his outcast form, but from there he also willingly killed people while enjoying it and manipulated Wednesday in the creepiest way (planning a date and their potential first kiss in the very crypt he knew they'd kill her, seriously...). I wonder if they are going to try and save him or push the monster hunting to the edge. After all, his mom apparently didn't kill anyone - I believe they would have mentioned similar deaths from 30 years ago (although that might be information kept for season 2 and it might have something to do with the normie death from 30 years ago that forced the Nightshades to disband). And I can't imagine his dad's state after all the revelations: the guilt he must feel for not talking to his son about his mom and not seeing he was being manipulated.

If there is a second season, I can't wait to see more revelations about Bianca and her mom, Xavier's dad, and just more of Ajax, Enid, Yoko, Eugene and maybe even Kent. And I'm not even mentioning the stalker, as well as the new possible mayor, principal of Nevermore and Thornill's replacement.

What I really liked about this show, beside characters, were costumes: the Addams' gothic style, perfectly modernized while still being close to the original comic/movie. And I loved Enid's colorful clothes (especially her amazing pink shoes in the last episode).

I do have a few complaints about the show:

Although dialogues are perfectly intelligible, everyone being at the same volume, I could barely hear any background music. I only realized it were here in certain scenes thanks to the subtitles, and it sort of loses the whole impact its supposed to have on the scene. So, if you have a hard time hearing (I am aware I don't have the best hearing), I would advise you to use headphones to really get the whole experience.

I'm also slightly disappointed by the style of the series. With Tim Burton as a director, I guess we expected a darker, more "crooked" style (with character designs or even sceneries), which we mostly only got from Tyler's Hyde form and Thing. I am aware Tim Burton doesn't have full freedom and, contrary to animation movies, has to deal with the material and physical limits of the real world (human face shapes, expensive makeup and CGI).

I think my last complaint would be about the length of the season: it was slightly fast-paced and therefore quite short in the end. So many things happened in only 8 episodes. I know productions now have to deal with many constraints, deadlines and even budgets, but I hope the success of the first season will give more time and money for the producers to have fun and add as much as they want to the final product.

Finally, I think it's just fair to write about Jenna Ortega's acting, which is absolutely amazing. Beside the no-blinking thing (which is really hard, not only because of the length of the scenes but also because of reflexes - try not blinking while moving your head around, or try doing it while keeping your movement natural), her posture is so straight yet remains natural. I'm also quite impressed by her capacity to control her full body - try staying as straight as her while falling, like in her vision scene after the kiss.

I also think it's important to note Gwendoline Christie's performance (principal Weems). Her facial expressions are to die for, with the slight eye movements whenever Wednesday or Morticia piss her off !

Emma Myers (Enid) also has some good facial expressions (at the ball, or with the homeless man who steals the camera) and her whimpers are so fun !

The expressiveness in this show is quite phenomenal and really participate in the story - big fake smiles (like Noble and Weems), odd expressions (like the woman who drives the hiker in the woods in the first episode, or Tyler's weird scene in the mansion), and the ambivalent, twisted meaning of Thornhill's actions and reactions that are great to rewatch after the twist revelation.

I have a few more thoughts about the choice to involve Pilgrims in the story (which is unique, hilarious and meaningful), but they're not fully developed.

I don't mistake my opinions for truths and I'd love to see more approaches to the series.

Also please note I'm French and English is not my first language. If you see any mistake or weird syntax/grammar, please inform me 😊

#netflix #netflix Wednesday #jenna ortega #tim burton #random thoughts #Alfred Gough #Miles Millar #Gwendoline Christie #Addams family #tv show #Wednesday Addams

[ina-nis]

I’m not kidding... sometimes I visit the AvPD reddit and, although I understand the “self-loathing cycle” of vent posts, people complaining and being overly negative/pessimist and how that doesn’t help things; the flip side is the “exposure helped me build social skills and improve” in posts about how people overcame the disorder.

“I had to expose myself to social situations and actively try to learn and pick up on social skills. During this process, an upward spiral is created. The more you learn, the better you can navigate social situations, the less you feel the urge to avoid, the more you socialize, the more you learn, etc...“

I wonder... where do I even fit?

I understand that venting and crying over spilled milk has its merits but it’s pointless in the big scheme of things. So I vent and try to find workarounds and answers, until I feel more or less hopeful.

I also understand that when you deal with your share of social anxiety and lack of skills in dealing and talking with people, it’s extremely difficult. But, as people correctly point out: that’s something that can be improved, practiced and become second nature.

So... I’m not venting hopelessly anymore, and I don’t lack the social skills to deal with other people but... I’ve seen no such upward spiral so far.

I don’t think I even fit the profile of Type II avoidants, “mingles”, because my lack of connection and intimacy with others isn’t due to fear of these things themselves, but mostly because people don’t get close to me in the first place. That unwillingness to get closer makes me read the whole ordeal as “rejection” so I don’t even bother. I try to not get close to unavailable people, and unfortunately that isn’t always obvious because people tend to communicate poorly. I don’t really like novelty and I’m not always searching for new people to talk. I understand rejection is part of life and not everything or everyone is meant to me, I know my self-esteem is low and that’s a work in progress. I don’t go out expecting people to accept me, or thinking everyone hates me and finds me repulsive, I tend to have no expectations (that are usually confirmed when nothing happens). I make an effort to not look outwardly desperate but it’s hard without coming off as aloof and disinterested, then I make an effort to look involved, but it might come off as too exciting or desperate.

Regardless, it’s hard to meet available people in person, even peers. And online, people are automatically unavailable because of the distance.

“Well, of course things are not working, you take the solutions and find all their flaws without giving it a shot.”

I want to see a “solution” that doesn’t look like something completely delusional, because I have failed to see how any of these things can work in practice after putting so much time and effort into practicing.

Yeah, maybe I’m in the wrong places talking to the wrong people, but these are the places accessible to me, and these are the people in there, what can I do about it? I don’t really see much else to do.

I’ve been hyping myself up to try dating apps for a while now. Maybe that will help. I don’t really see how it can make anything worse than it already is.

And as for a diagnosis... I don’t know.

The first I noticed there was something wrong was during a therapy group I participated. A little over an year ago. I highly benefited from the first time, so I thought trying again with another group and another approach would be good, and it was... sort of. By the end of the program, I was left feeling completely alienated, my “therapy-persona” did a great job in interacting and listening, but me, myself? I felt unable to connect and a sense of dread started sprouting and for the first time I was aware.

I found out AvPD was a thing while trying to figure out what was wrong with me. For a long time I thought this was another symptom of Complex PTSD (as this disorder tends to mimic other mental health issues extremely well), but my PTSD symptoms were mostly under control, and a lot of the trauma have been worked on in past therapies. I thought it was social anxiety, and for a while, I really was socially anxious, but anxiety is easy to manage once you know what triggers it and what you can do, so that was also out of the way. I thought it could be autism too, as I’m read as autistic all the time by others (especially by autistic people themselves), but I have only started to show autistic traits way into my adulthood. Maybe I’m on the very end of the spectrum, and now that so many of my mental health issues are under control, the traits have surfaced. Or maybe that was all trauma after all.

In the end, it all came down to dysfunctional avoidance causing distress in my daily life, and I thought it could be a symptom of something else. But now I’m very convinced that avoidance is the disorder itself. I see myself struggling with my brain to stop doing it because there’s no need for that, and it doesn’t listen to me. I dissociate, and “avoid” either way.

My insight about the disorder is much greater now even though I don’t even fit on it anymore, but I don’t know where else I would fit then. It helps me if what I feel has a name, and it helps me to know that it’s something external to me, even if it’s part of who I am, it’s not all of what I am, and it’s its own separated thing.

And now I’m at a point where even therapy is a trigger, and my solitary hobbies and passions are causing me distress, but throwing myself out there and around people isn’t helping either, finding more hobbies and other things to do will only buy time, and address nothing.

I’ve cornered myself by finally recognizing my own aloneness.

The remedy is connection, and I’m trying so damn hard every day to find anything, any kind of connection that doesn’t feel like a trigger and something, someone who stays and is available to me.

If not that, I just want to be able to enjoy and do my hobbies and things I like again without wanting to kill myself. I don’t want to think about how lonely I am, I don’t have to think about it because it’s a fact of life, it always have been and it’s hard to believe it will change.

Probably the fact that I didn’t give up and I’m facing this upfront is what drove me into a corner, and this is the hardest, isn’t it?

#avpd #avoidance #avoidant #avoidant personality disorder #inanis post

[nkosiyazimdluli]

All Praise Go To the Most High

I remember when the year began, I asked for my parent's support to do my honours. My father never wanted to get involved since I had finished my Bachelor's degree, he didn't understand what I wanted to do. However, mother was supportive all the way, although she has been unemployed since the COVID-19 lockdown started. I left home with cash only enough for transport to get me to Westville Campus.

I had no plan what I was gonna eat, where I was gonna sleep or how I'm gonna be living when I got there because I had no funding. By the grace of God, I had made relationships with other students that I had lived with at the commune the previous year in Crystal Valley residence. Now they had to help me squat at their place indefinitely. I had no money for registration and residence deposit yet I still soldiered on because I had faith that God will make a way.

Approximately 3 weeks later, I was admitted to Forest Hill, an on-campus residence. Things got so much better since I had my own place, all I had to was study hard and make sure all the suffering isn't in vain. I put everything aside, my social life, my dreams of being a musician, etc. My honours had to take priority over everything else. I did just that and the rest is history.

So much happened in 2022 that I'm grateful for, I underwent tremendous transformations, I learned so many important life lessons that I take with me as I continue my journey. I unlearned a lot of things too. The year 2022 has been the hardest for me both personally and academically, and I am proud to have emerged as a conquerer in all aspects. Here I am today celebrating my honours degree. It was not a one man effort but a collective effort of my fellow students, friends and family. I thank all of those who played a part in my journey.

It doesn't end here, so it continues...🤾

[psyce]

Re: social anxiety and social skills. How would one go about learning social skills, in a way that isn't essentially "endure your anxiety and practice your little butt off"? My GF goes with that strategy but if there's better options for her.....

that is a good ass question. and very difficult to answer 😭 personally i have been doing social anxiety "exposures" which is what youre describing since middle school and it never really was what helped me although it is very neccessary. it really is kind of a volume thing and the more you practice the better you get but the way i was able to do that personally was just my boyfriend being an angel on planet earth and inviting me to all of his gatherings with his friends and making me a part of things for years. which was so genuinely terrifying because i had never had a friend group like that and i embarrassed myself a ton but after two or three years of that i can say im pretty normal. like from crying about having to go through a drive thru to being fine going to house parties bymyself which is a fucking insane shift. youll learn a lot as you go but i think id say a HUGE part of it is also self confidence. when you get out of the mindset of everyone judging you 24/7 and realize thats not the case its very easy to forgive yourself for acting "wrong" and easier to learn from your mistakes, as well as be confident in what you say and how you interact with people. this is also very hard but i kind of just observed the way my bf and people very confident in themselves and in their social interactions acted and copied what they did and itgot a lot easier. they really dont care about how others percieve them and 99% of the time people really truly dont really care so observing how people operate in that mindset is so useful. and one final thing is just being more empathetic. consider other peoples wants needs feelings in your conversations and interactions and youll get out of your own head and what you think is happening. even if you arent "successful" in the interaction although that isnt real you can never go wrong if youre acting in a way that makes other people feel good or listened to. coming from a place of making other peoples days better even if its scary isjust a good way to feel good about yourself and practice at the same time. honestly its a long journey and its very personal to everyone and honestly something youreally really have to put in effort to get better at. when i get in anxious phases it all of a sudden can become very hard for me to not hate how i act and talk again but its all a part of growth and it can only get better from here. long winded but i hope this can help you guys out <3

[steamishot]

leveling up (or not)

i've still been listening to a lot of sara payne's rock solid relationships episodes and it's been very uplifting to me as she provides mostly great life coaching (for free!). one episode stood out most to me recently, which is about leveling up. she talked about playing mario and going on to the next level. with every advance, there is failure. you die, you try again, you keep trying until you beat the level. otherwise, you're stuck at the same level and always winning - this although nice, gets boring and unfulfilling. as a student, we go through all the grades K-12, then in college year 1-4, etc. so there's always that feeling that we're growing incrementally.

in my professional life currently, i feel that i've been playing on the same level and constantly winning. it's definitely boring and unfulfilling. there are pockets where it's busier and the work is new and more challenging - but this usually only lasts a little while and it becomes boring again. especially during the holiday season, i feel like no one wants to be working and its been really slow! at least on the outside, it appears that i have received a promotion this year, so it is an instance of leveling up. after reflection, i want to resume my studies in accounting and possibly aim for a CPA.

furthermore, i used to be more goal oriented when it came to working out/exercising. i can think back specifically to during covid where i would track my running speed and consistently run 5Ks multiple times a week. also, when i did copilot for two months (?) and leveled up in weights to the point where i surprised myself. now, i am mostly doing hot yoga and youtube workouts - but for the purpose of maintenance, not growing. i've even recently started searching for easier workouts as i feel lazier, and had no motivation to use my heavier weights. this also made the workout feel more boring and unfulfilling. the podcast episode really made me think of all the areas in my life that i am not leveling up in. so, for the past two days, i've put in more effort into my workouts and it definitely became more challenging and rewarding.

i started playing duolingo and learning japanese as a replacement to social media. at least for this, there is a clear indication of a path forward (unit 1 -> 2, etc).

i will start therapy with kaiser mid-december. i want to delve in to my need to put myself on the backburner. for example, i'd rather focus on someone else's career (aka matt's) instead of my own. i've always prided myself on being "selfless" and helping other family members, being the reliable one. why i avoid being the "main character" and feel more comfortable as a supporting cast.

this is part of the reason why i felt so down about matt's job search being unsuccessful thus far. i became totally tunnel-visioned about this that i had very little else going on for me (AND vice-versa). because i had so little going on for me, i needed to latch onto his thing to feel some sense of purpose. to be honest, it's probably the latter moreso than the former.

to make life more interesting and intentional/purposeful, i'll need to set SMART goals for myself. 2024?

edit: i attended hot yoga today, even though i almost didn't feel like going. matty always has a little story at the beginning of class. today, he talked about beyonce and her film renaissance now out in theaters, and the commentary about her daughter blue ivy receiving criticisms from online haters. despite the criticisms, she continues to show up and try her best to get better. he inspired us to say "i can" instead of "i can't". this was completely coincidental to my theme of wanting to level up recently, so i tried harder than i normally do in yoga class and felt proud of myself.

quote: “Very rarely does pursuing our dreams feel like anything other than a lot of effort clothed in self doubt.” Self doubt is part of the deal. Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith.

[eazy-group]

Tanya lost 98 pounds

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Tanya lost 98 pounds

Transformation of the Day: Tanya shares how she lost 98 pounds. At 47 years young, she was taking 12 medications, her health was declining and she was saddend to see the toll her health was taking on on her family. Determined to get healthy and fit, she had VSG surgery and transformed her lifestyle.

Social Media: Facebook

When did you start your journey? What was your motivation? At age 47, I weighed 370 pounds and was taking 12 medications. Walking from the door to my house to the car had become overwhelming due to extreme shortness of breath. Taking care of my basic needs had become excruciating and challenging, and my self-esteem was tanked. I also could see the toll my poor health had on my family. It made me very sad. 

After years of yo-yo dieting, I decided to get the Vertical Sleeve Gastronomy (VSG) weight loss surgery. This procedure was done five days before my 48th birthday, and it’s the best gift I’ve ever given to myself. My ultimate goal is to get to 200 lbs and be healthy, fit, and toned. I’m turning 50 on 11/3/23 and have never felt better.

Getting healthy has had ups and downs, but I have a renewed lease on life, the capacity to try new activities, and my mindset is continually changing. These all help me not want to give up.

How did you change your eating habits? I cut down considerably on carbs (rice, pasta, bread, cereals, and sweets), although I occasionally eat them. Having stomach restrictions helps a great deal. I don’t use a specific diet plan. Instead, I try to have a colorful plate with fruits, veggies, some grains, and meat.

What is your workout routine? I use YouTube videos for cardio workouts. There’s a lot of good free content! I also do a lot of walking because I’m able to now! 

I have also gotten hooked on doing virtual challenges through The Conqueror Challenges and Yes Fit. I do some weight training videos, but I also have free weights, resistance bands, and battle ropes at home. I plan to increase strength training by using home tools and the gym at our building complex so I can tone more.

How often did you work out? I do 2-3 days per week but plan on stepping up my days.

What was your starting weight? What is your current weight? My starting weight was 370 pounds, and my current weight is 272 pounds and still going.

What is your height? 5’5″

What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned so far? To not quit. Being obese is hard. Getting healthy is hard. At least on the other side of getting healthy, there are so many positive rewards for the effort. I’m also learning to be more gentle with myself, keep learning from setbacks, and keep moving forward.

What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight? Make yourself a priority! No matter what you’ve been through, you ARE worth the journey of good health. Your future will be so much brighter with being able to move more, becoming your best self, and having a new appreciation of good health.

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[anthonypaulh]

ITP September Awareness Campaign

The 2023 Global ITP September Awareness Campaign is upon us . Here’s  why it is so important and why we should all make an effort to get involved. 

Please check the ITP Support Association website at www.itpsupport.org.uk and www.globalitp.org for further details of how to take part. 

WHY IS ITP SEPTEMBER AWARENESS  IMPORTANT ?

One of the main lessons that I have taken from my ITP journey is that we all need to make more people aware of this very little known, enigmatic illness. Like most ITP sufferers, before I was diagnosed with it, I had never heard of it and frankly I really couldn’t believe that I had it. 

After my diagnosis , I just couldn’t believe that I had anything as serious as ITP. I thought that the hospital had made a mistake. Maybe they had confused my blood test results with somebody else. Once it became clear that I really did have ITP, then I got angry.

Why me, how can I have ITP ? I had never been ill before, never smoked, never taken any drugs and always drank alcohol at sensible levels. I had lived my first 46 years without ever being in a hospital for anything other than a few stitches from football/soccer related injuries.

Well, so what ? ITP does not care much about who it chooses and when. Unfortunately it can develop in anyone at anytime at any age and of any ethnicity, although we do know that it occurs more in women than men. In short, ITP is not terribly fussy, it can choose anyone, we are all fair game. 

In adults it is usually more stubborn than in children. It tends to disappear (often without treatment) in many children, as suddenly as it turns up. In adults it is rarer to see it go into spontaneous remission. But it doesn’t mean that we cannot live very full and positive lives.

SPREADING AWARENESS  GETS RESULTS 

There are certainly plenty of grounds for optimism and it is clear that our ITP Awareness campaigns have borne fruit. When the annual September campaign started back in 2010 things on the purple front were very, very different.

When I think back to 2006 and my diagnosis there were far fewer treatments available for ITP (For example - TPO drugs had not been rolled out) very few support groups, and certainly very limited numbers of blogs, social media groups, vlogs, let alone research on the scale we have now. 

It is worth remembering that until the TPO drugs were introduced the only treatments available for ITP WERE NOT actually designed to treat ITP. All of those options were actually borrowed from other illness/conditions and were not specifically designed to treat ITP at all. Now we have the TPO drugs which have been specifically developed for the treatment of our condition. 

So things have improved dramatically and as evidence of this I would urge anyone living with ITP to watch the many video films on the ITP Support Association You Tube Channel which explain the many treatment options now available to us. 

The whole approach to ITP is so much more positive, more patient focused and inclusive. It is just so much more optimistic and encouraging.

Making an effort to spread awareness has undoubtedly played a big part in moving research, treatments & knowledge further forward. 

There is no better reason to get involved this September than knowing any contribution we make is improving things for us living with ITP now, and helping those who may follow in our footsteps in years ahead.

However, we cannot be complacent, it is up to us to keep making others aware of our condition. We know what it is like to live with it day to day and it is we who can tell others what to expect. If we don’t inform people, then who will ? 

So please do help in this September Awareness campaign, try to get involved even if it is to take just one or two small actions. 

September awareness week runs from the 25th to the 29th.

#ITPAware #ITPAwarenes #ITPSupportAssociation

#global4itp

[goaldonkey26]

Some Ideas on Mma Grappling Dummy You Need To Know

Occasionally there just aren’t jiu jitsu schools of sparring partners around that you can function on your strategy along with. What you are attempting to establish is that when a sparring partner drops down you may make an effort to possess their hand in front of yours and they can easilynot perform it because they are so concerned concerning performing thus (the various other hand in your upper arms). It may then take place once more that you are about to damage complimentary from one of them (your palms). When there’s no-one close by to exercise along with, using a dealing with fake is the following finest factor for cultivating your skill-sets. The relocation can then be kept for half an hr and then redoed for a total 12 hrs. All these exercises additionally help you construct the best instruction base and assist you succeed on all your personal duties (eg learning to walk, working, developing muscle mass). You can download the videos to your computer system or a mobile phone or tablet computer. But with thus a lot of possibilities for struggling fakes on the market, which one need to you buy? Right here are some of our leading choice for wrestling trainees this autumn. You Are Your Best Pal on a Title Match Although the guys's fighter and cross-country skier in '68-70 possessed a handful of years before winning a high-profile title in the UFC, it wasn't up until that point in their qualified careers that the two guys started sharing the primary stage.

Guru’s Choice: Greatest Grappling Dummy for BJJ Why do I need a Grappling Dummy? For everyone who likes struggling, there's no one far better than Grasping Ninja Baba Rin to acquire you going after a difficult match. Along with a lot of choices, and the capacity to relocate in advance, that could possibly be anything coming from a takedown to a takedown grip to a kick. Possibly you can’t make it to the gym because of job or institution. What you are attempting to do is simply attempt. This is not concerning being idle, it is regarding attempting. It's better to be prosperous, because excellence suggests that success suggests that you have the capability to produce your dream come accurate. Occasionally you possess to make an effort so hard to be productive, also if it seems inconceivable. And you merely possess time for that. Possibly something’s happen up and you don’t possess the time to go out. The honest truth is this man most likely did not really want to possess youngsters, which means he might have had some emotions towards women various other than his very own. When that happened, he stated, "It was only a concern of time before anyone produced out along with me.". Of course, most most likely, the various other guy in the picture is not the guy or mistress that you get all the interest. Or perhaps you just really want to engage in at home. But don't forget that it's a lot easier to think out all the new skill-sets if you always keep utilizing them and learning how to operate with them. In the situation of my child, she started at an very early grow older, so she's learning a whole lot about social lifestyle, but she additionally began at a tiny amount, and she's going up in a whole lot of classes.". How is this a complication for these little ones? No matter what your situation, the largest benefit of grasping fakes is that they’re consistently accessible for you to exercise your drills and develop your skill-sets. Currently you may obtain an experienced and proficient coach. And by instruction with the dummies in your palm training program, you'll be much better well prepared for a life-long difficulty. For the upcoming chapter in your training you'll know concerning working with the dummies. This is really crucial, especially because going by means of the activities of Jiu Jitsu and exercising your exercises frequently is essential to getting a lot better. When it happens to instruction, there can easily be lots of different variables that identify all the results. Some research studies present that one training session assists your self-confidence, some you enhance your quickness, and some you lessen it; but allow me reveal you my idea (and really hope you're on your method to ending up being one of my beloved martial performers). As competitors in the UFC have confirmed opportunity and opportunity again, a powerful groundwork in grappling is likewise crucial if you’re training MMA. It's like throwing funds right into the fire as you are just capable to provide your absolute best match of the year so if you are not willing to pay for that you are being egoistic. MMA is regarding possessing people think their battle isn't about loan and funds not the other means about - to help make it easy in the ring.

#jiu jitsu near me #jiu jitsu meme #brazilian jiu jitsu #jiu jitsu shirts