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#because Cam has a collection
rarestdoge · 11 months
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@smoresthehalloweenqueen's Brutus has been rotting my brain I hate him so fucking much (affectionate)
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The Incorrect Quote Generator kept shipping them and it turned into this. They kith sock puppet style now 💙 Cam is collecting bitches like Pokemon cards and I live for it.
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longelk · 2 years
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im relistening to TMA and ive realized how nicely it could work as an AU for scryption.. the power struggle between the entities trying to reshape the world to their liking is very reminiscent of the scrybes trying to take control & alter the game & all the endless cycles of torture and everything lol
just putting these ideas in my back pocket : )
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#and its also just me combining two things i love :)#to continue indulging myself#grimora would be end obviously‚ & leshy is hunt#u could make a case for p03 being extinction or eye..#extinction deals with robots replacing humanity which fits but he literally has an archivist + camera boss so. maybe both?#its easier to see extinction as his goal so id go with that‚ eye just goes hand in hand when he has security cams everywhere#i think he'd be like 'fuck this gay earth' and cause pollution on purpose with his factory#while trying to transcend human form cause Fuck organic life#if you had to align mags to an entity he'd probly be eye because premonition powers#but i think he'd be the equivalent of jurgen leitner here#he doesnt want the world to change but he does collect cursed books and artefacts#perform cruel experiments on his assistants for the sake of knowledge being overall an egotistical old bitch#it would be more fitting if he had unknowable motives rather than one allegiance#also also kc becomes hunt avatar & is a little hunting partner of leshi 🥺#like trevor and julia..#since the mycologists have their own agenda theyd probably be flesh#trapper/trader being stranger aligned because of uncanniness + 'shapeshifting' identities#+ they collect Skin#saydo from hex is perfectly web + stranger being a spiderclown and all.. she also reminds me of nikola too much lol#ill see if i can try sketching any of this at some point but i would like to make human designs for it so putting off for now#this is actually what powered me to make human leshy lol#sanctioned cringe moment is over#tma spoilers
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feyhunter78 · 1 year
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Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷
I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)
Pt 3
Pink Pastels Pt 2
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Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.
No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.
This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.
The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.
The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.
“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”
“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.
You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.
Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.
You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.
A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.
And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.
“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.
He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.
“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.
How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?
“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”
“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.
“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”
Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.
“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.
“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”
Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.
“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.
“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.
“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.
He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”
She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”
If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.
“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.
She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.
Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.
He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.
“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”
“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.
He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.
“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground
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What's One Night With A Different Knight
Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader & Marc Spector x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: very brief mention of abuse; not towards the reader just as an idea but besides that I think it's safe here- there's some bickering at the end but otherwise a... relatively cute fic
Genre: very much fluff
Summary: When Marc coincidentally overhears you telling your friend you might dump Jake he steps in to help
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Jake Lockley. He's been your boyfriend for about 3 months now although at this point you're not too sure he'll keep that title much longer. It's not that Jake mistreats you or anything but, he can be cold, distant. Sometimes it feels as if he's not there even when he's with you, which honestly isn't saying much because these days he's hardly with you anyway. This thing between you, it's new, and you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he's going through something he's not ready to share with you because of how new things are. That you can understand, and you don't necessarily want to give up on your relationship if all of this is because he's having a hard time, especially because he was so kind and charming when you met. Although, 'he was so kind when we met' is the beginning of too many stories that end with bruises, restraining orders, arrests, death. So you won't put too much weight in 'he was kind and charming when you met'. You don't want to believe that Jake would ever hurt you but you still don't know him well, and you can only ignore so many warning signs. The more you mull it over the more you think it's time to end things. You just want to figure out the best way to do so.
"El I think I'm gonna break up with him." You mutter to your friend as you walk back from dinner together, the summer nights being perfect for it.
"Jake? I thought you really liked him!"
"I do. Or- I did. These days there's not enough of him around to like. That's the problem." You sigh. "I know he has a life, I mean, so do I but the bottom line is that Lockley isn't putting in effort and I refuse to be the only one that cares in this relationship."
"Maybe you should talk to him about it?"
"Maybe. It's just that it's only been a couple of months, if he's already falling off like this so soon I mean, it seems like he can't be bothered." You shrug.
"I think you should talk to him if you see a future with him in any capacity. But I know you don't have patience for being treated like an option."
"Correct, I don't. I won't prioritize someone who won't prioritize me. I'll think about it though. I just- I'm not going to beg him to be invested in our relationship that's all."
You had no way of knowing that, coincidentally, not Jake but one who shares his body heard a good bit of this conversation. While Jake hadn't told you about his secrets, between Moonknight and his fractured mind, it didn't take Marc and Steven long to find out about you. Considering how little he fronts, it was easy for them to solve the mystery that had him showing up more often. You. They obviously didn't know you personally but they knew enough about you. Marc had particularly taken an interest in you and while Steven would never admit it, because you weren't his girlfriend, part of him liked you a little bit too. They'd both like you to stick around but Marc, unlike Steven, is willing to cross lines if it means keeping you around. Which is why the night after hearing you vent to your dear friend, he's strolling coolly to your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He knocks on the door with all the confidence in the world, smiling kindly when you open the door, even when he sees the confused look on your face.
"Jake? What are you doing here?" You ask. Marc reveals the flowers from behind his back.
"Now I would've got your favorites but forgive me I'm not sure what they are. I do however know flowers and put together some that show what I feel about you. Blue salvias, morning glories, forget me nots, and a collection of carnations and camellias." Marc says.
"I'm not personally well versed in flowers so I'm not sure what any of them mean but thank you." You chuckle. "And what's up with your voice?"
"I thought it'd be fun to do an accent." He shrugs.
"Oh? Should I do one too?"
"Nah, I love your voice too much." He winks.
"How cute. Did you, really come all this way just to drop off some flowers though?" You ask.
"No. So you'll have to look up their meanings later, I'm actually hoping you can spare a couple hours of your evening for a date. I thought I'd surprise you."
"A date? I'm hardly dressed for a date."
"Well you could wear a paper bag and still be the most gorgeous person in any room we entered, but I'm a patient man, go ahead and get ready. I'll wait."
"Give me 15 minutes." You say ushering him into your apartment.
"Take your time mi amor." Marc says, throwing the endearment in to appear more like Jake.
Marc??? Where are we? Marc sighs at the voice in his head, he'd hoped that both alters would be blocked for most of the evening.
"Jake babe, where are we going?" You call down the hall.
"It's a surprise princessa!" 
"I mean I know, I really just need the dress code."
"Casual is fine, although you'd look perfect in anything."
"So charming this evening." You muse.
JAKE'S GIRLFRIEND?! THAT IS JAKE'S GIRLFRIEND MARC!
Marc rushes into the bathroom and turns on the faucet, glaring at the mirror.
"Yes I know who it is Steven thank you."
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!
"I'm thinking that Jake is about to lose her and I have no interest in letting that happen."
So what's your plan?! To tell her the truth about us?
"No! At least, not tonight. Tonight is just about showing her what she deserves."
That is absolutely mad. Not to mention a betrayal of trust, both hers and Jake's. She thinks you're someone else Marc.
"Yeah, that's kind of the point."
So you're just going to pretend to be him indefinitely?
"No, she's this close to breaking up with Jake so- I'm proving he's not a shit partner."
Right, so that when he fails to deliver after this she'll dump him quicker.
"I'm trying to save their relationship not ruin it!"
You realize if Jake ever tells her about us and she finds out about this she will probably be pissed off
"That's fine because if I don't do this they probably won't even last long enough for Jake to tell her about us."
You've lost your mind Marc, you cannot pretend to be Jake anymore than you could pretend to be me or I could pretend to be either of you
"For a couple of hours, I absolutely can actually."
"Jake? Where'd you go?" Your voice halts their conversation and Marc turns off the sink, swinging open the bathroom door to greet you with a smile.
"Apologies hermosa, I'm here." He says.
"Well, let's go on this surprise date of yours." You say  You've put on a pair of jeans and a mesh sweater over a crop top for the evening, something comfortable but cute since you still don't know where you're going.
"Yes, let's." Marc offers his arm to you and you loop yours through it as you exit your apartment.
"Will you tell me where we're heading now?" You ask him while he leads you through the streets of town.
"I will not, but I'm sure you'll guess before we get there." He says.
"How on earth would I be able to guess before we get there?" You frown.
"Listen closely amor." He says and you allow yourself to take in the sounds of summer evenings. There are people talking, and walking, everywhere, but after a moment you hear faint music, not like the kind playing in restaurants that you pass. It's- carnival music? You can hear the sounds of laughter and screams and the almost obnoxious chimes carnival games are known for and just as you piece it together you just barely pick up the smell of overpriced fair food.
"Are we going to a carnival?" You ask with an excited gasp and though Marc doesn't answer he smiles in a way that tells you you've guessed correctly. Just then you turn a corner and are suddenly met with so many bright lights you're tempted to close your eyes for a moment.
"Surprise." Marc says quietly as you approach.
"I didn't even know there was a carnival in town! This is so cool!" You say beaming at him.
"I thought you'd like it." He smiles softly.
"I love it. Thank you." You tell him.
"Anything for you." He says and he means that. He's not sure Jake would say it but- he feels that way. In this moment, watching you take in the carnival with childlike wonder. He would do anything for you. He's sure of it.
"What should we do first?!" You ask him excitedly.
"Whatever you want, it's your surprise. We can do it all, ride every ride, play every game, eat everything from every stall, win every prize they've got, we can just walk around, we can ride the same ride a hundred times if you want. I'll do whatever makes you happiest." Marc says and you smile so sweetly he's sure his heart is fit to fly out of his chest and into your hands.
"Let's start with the swing carousel." You say pointing out the ride.
"Of course." He nods leading you both to the line. He's quiet as you make your way to the front and onto the ride but he holds your hand even after you're sat in your swings waiting for the ride to start. After a few moments, the ride lifts into the air and begins spinning in large circles, taking all of you with it. Marc watches you as you happily look around at the rest of the carnival from the vantage point this ride gives you. There's a childlike wonder to your happiness that when he's looking at you he feels at peace like every problem he's ever had is dissolving. It's a feeling he wants to hold onto. When the ride ends you and Marc take turns picking what order to hit the others in. Honestly, he'd let you decide every step he takes if you wanted to, but you insist that he have some say in the evening.
"I didn't take you for the carnival type Jake." You say after you've ridden most everything there is to ride here. The use of Jake's name is like a bucket of cold water in Marc's face and he has to remind himself not to react outwardly.
"I don't know that I'd say I am actually but I am the make you happy type, cariño." Marc says kissing your cheek.
"You're so cute tonight." You giggle. "We have to ride the ferris wheel before we go." You point at the large brightly lit up wheel.
"Alright but before that let's play one of these games, yeah? Tell me what prize you want and I'll win it for you." Marc says.
"You don't have to do that Jake." You shake your head.
"I want to. Go on, pick a prize." Marc tells you. You look at the different games around the carnival and your eyes eventually catch on a stuffed raccoon. It's big with blue eyes and paws and ears and feet and it's hanging over one of those impossible ringtoss games.
"Do you think you could win one of those raccoon toys?" You ask, pointing at it.
"Easy." He nods.
"Well the bottle ring toss is notoriously hard usually. Don't take it too seriously." You tell him as he walks up to the booth with you.
"Trust me princessa, I've got this." Marc winks at you before buying his rings from the attendant who looks extremely bored.
"Alright." You laugh.
"Watch this." He turns slightly to the side and tosses the rings in rapid succession, making every throw with surprising accuracy.
"Wow." You say.
"Told you it'd be easy." Marc says throwing his arm around you. He points at the stuffed raccoon you wanted and the game attendant pulls it down with a shocked congratulations.
"Thank you Jake." You say kissing his cheek.
"Of course amor. To the Ferris wheel now, yes?"
"Yes! Let's go!" You smile, clutching the raccoon closely. Your Ferris wheel ride is peacefully quiet and when you eventually return to the ground, Marc walks you back to your apartment. You chat idly as you walk, catching up about how you've been since you last saw each other and before you know it, you're at your apartment door.
"I had an amazing time tonight." Marc says.
"Me too. I dunno what's up with you tonight but, I like you like this." You say with a small smile.
"Yeah? Me too." He smiles. You place a hand on his shoulder to lean up and kiss his cheek shyly.
"Text when you get home, okay?" You say.
"Of course amor." He nods.
"Goodnight Jake." You say softly.
"Goodnight mi vida." He breathes out as you step into your apartment. You almost don't want to close your door because it means the night is over but you do and Marc leaves, whistling happily to himself as he was back to their flat. It's not until he makes it all the way back that a voice rings in his head.
If we didn't share a body hermano I would kill you right now.
Marc looks at the nearest reflective surface to see Jake glaring at him.
That was my girlfriend! What the hell are you doing?!
"Hey, if not for what I did tonight she'd probably be your ex girlfriend by morning. She was ready to dump you just the other night. You should be thanking me." Marc says.
Marc, that's Jake's life. It's not your place to meddle, we agreed to let each other have our things. You overstepped seriously. 
This time it's Steven who steps in, gentle but scolding.
"I just saved his relationship. That girl deserves better, all I did was show it to her."
Not only have you fundamentally destroyed the trust of their relationship but you've set an expectation you don't even know if Jake can maintain! At best you've strung her along and at worst you have to maintain this lie which can only lead to a million other problems because when you eventually start to care for her and hearing her call you Jake starts driving you crazy and you're tempted to tell her the truth you won't be able to because at that point you'll be in so deep that she'll never speak to either of you again if you do tell her.
"I gave her exactly what kind of relationship she should have, now Jake either has to step up or lose her for good."
And when he doesn't fill this weird bar you've set up because he's not you, then what? Because she was about to dump him until you stepped in, right? 
First of all who said I couldn't fill it?!
"If you can be that for her why haven't you?"
It's none of your business Marc
Case in point. He's not gonna do what you did. You've just created this unnecessary contradicting person for her and there was literally no reason for that.
"Whatever, she deserved a nice night."
You're ignoring the part where she is MY girlfriend and you had no right to take her out! Just because she doesn't know there's more than one of us doesn't mean it's okay to take advantage of that!
"If she's your girlfriend. Treat her well and we won't have this problem."
The only problem is you meddling
"God you two are such nags. I saved your relationship tonight Jake. I won't apologize for it because you're lucky you can still call her your girlfriend right now." Marc rolls his eyes and walks away from the mirror and their conversation. Yeah maybe he should've left well enough alone but you deserve nice things and even if it means you leave Jake for not being enough, at least you should know that someone will give you everything you deserve.
Meanwhile, after you've showered and changed you look up the meaning of those flowers he brought you, the blue salvias mean 'I think of you', and morning glories mean 'affection', forget me nots are self explanatory, the different colored carnations mean everything from my heart aches to I'll never forget you and the various camellias have meanings of longing and other dramatic declarations of love, at least according to a website you found. It's a very thoughtful collection of flowers, more emotionally expressive than Jake has been for most of your relationship but it's something that warms your heart as you lay in bed thinking about your date. An absolutely perfect date.
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jaskersneakthief · 1 month
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ONAF REDESIGNS ‼️‼️[part 1, if I ever make a part 2 that is]
taggin just in case: @equinox-dust @slinkydoodle @somethingoff101 @murasakijay @c00lac0la @luvphantomships
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Sooo Flompy wompy ^_^: gave him a cute little bowtie cuz he deserves one and also because I kinda wanted him to look like an easter egg
Bla bla bla, more yellow!! Cuz it fits him ★ freckles (technically speckles cuz he's an egg!) ★the hat he wears in cam 3 in onaf 2 ★
And basically I wanted him to look more friendly, or like an adorable children media's character since I feel like it contrasts more with his sadistic tendencies
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the blameeerrr : I wanted him to look kinda like those shape sorting cube toys for babies, that's why he has holes in most of his faces (rectangular prism,.,.🔶) except,yknow his actual face.
Also he kinda looks like cheese, mmm. Cheese boy blam ★clown ruffle cuz yes ★ red eyes that are strangely inspired by albino bunnies ★ he's a silly billy that's it
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evil british rectangle aka kevin jr my love!!1!: I made him 5% eviler.
Gave him a cape because mwahahaha★stacked hats on top of his head 2 show he really does collect hats,..★ scar on his right eye because its badass and also gives an explanation for why he wears a monocle (outside of looking fancy) ★ and some silly details like the trousers
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PJ ★☆(not really a redesign just a "what if he had a more detailed design") plus!! his little cart on the background filled with knickknacks and trinkets and jam jars:3🍓★☆
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mintkookiess · 10 months
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Miles Morales Headcannons #6
Weddings with 1610!Miles and 42!Miles (fem!reader)
I’m currently at a wedding as I’m typing this, and I’m just imagining the bajillion scenarios in my head w the two Miles, so I just have to write it down before I forget
Love,
Mint
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1610!Miles
We already know that he can easily become vulnerable, so when he sees you walking down that isle with the most bedazzling, shining shimmering splendid gown? You best believe he’s going to bawl his eyes out
You had to hold yourself back from doing the same or you’ll ruin your makeup
So he cries for the both of you
The whole time, he’s holding your hand tightly like his life depends on it
He’d whisper a lot in between saying things like,
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” “You’re finally, officially, mine mi vida…” “I get to call you wife now,” “I think I’m sweating, aren’t you?” “this is insane—“
And of course he’s grinning until his cheeks start hurting
He ABSOLUTELY CANNOT get through saying his vows because the first thing he does before he even opens his mouth, is cry, and his tears are already falling down hard like the goddamn Niagra falls.
When you’re both trying to put the wedding rings on each other, mans hand is mad shaking that it takes him a hot minute before successfully inserting it on your finger
His parents are sure to take lots of pictures
Shows the both of you after, and Miles just tries to hide himself in your shoulder in embarrassment
Once the “you may kiss the bride” arrives he goes for a peck that lasts a millisecond, he immediately regrets it and goes for another one, this time it’s longer and more passionate
42!Miles
This man has himself calm and collected before the wedding starts while he’s waiting by the altar
Uncle Aaron was sure to sit by the front row so he could tease his only nephew
So of course, Miles would keep cool.
Even dapping his suit and all that, fixing his braids, etc.
But the moment they announce your arrival HOOOOO BOY
His breath catches in his throat and the moment you appear by the start of the isle, HE’S ALREADY HEAVING
Like i’m talking a try-hard serious face but his eyes and lips are quivering
Tears come down but he immediately looks away to wipe it (unfortunately uncle Aaron got that on video and is ready to tease him about it for his entire life)
Has to take several breaths as his eyes never left you when you were walking down the isle
He could’ve sworn he was seeing a goddamn angel, and realization just hits him that you are about to become his wife
Once you reach him, he’s quick to lean down to whisper, “You’re so beautiful mami,”
As he says his vows, he has to take breaks in between to try to hold back the tears which almost works until he let two of em out right after he’s done
“You may now kiss—“ He doesn’t let em finish and immediately sweeps you off your feet and smashes his lips with yours IT’S NOT EVEN LIKE JUST AN INNOCENT KISS his arms are already wrapping around your waist until he remembers where yall were and immediately pulls away
He makes sure Uncle Aaron and the other photographers got that kiss on cam cause he’s saving that in every device, framing it and putting it on display
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Taglist: @ii01vp @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @fiannee
(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)
More of my Miles content here babes!
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tenabrye · 1 year
Note
Cam we get some how they are when they have a crush for Reboot! Vash and Nicholas?
Vash
It's the kind of sweet that's tooth-rotting when he has a crush on someone. Yes, he's still nice and all, but he goes the EXTRA MILE and does it just for them. If they're traveling with him and he notices that they've been eyeing something in the town they're currently staying at for a day or two, and he has enough double dollars, he's getting them that item. If they ask him about it, he chalks it up as it being a coincidence, even though it really wasn't. Is also the type to get things that make him think about them, blatantly saying so, too. The smile on their face brightens his day and he'd do anything to continue seeing it.
As much as he is sweet for them, his protectiveness skyrockets. He doesn't show it in front of them, but he's actually very, very scared of what could or will happen to them since trouble does seem to follow him, especially with that trouble being his merciless twin. The thought of what could happen if Knives were to hurt them, or do worse, keeps him up a lot at night. He'll lose sleep over those thoughts, but at the same time, he really doesn't dwell on them for too long with his crush around. Their smile or their laughter is enough to break him out of his bad thinking. As much of a pacifist as he is, if it really, and I do mean REALLY, came down to it, especially after the words of Wolfwood playing in his mind, he would do anything to keep his crush safe.
Them being sad is literally impossible with him around. Vash will make it his mission to brighten up their day the best he can. They want to talk about the problem? He's one hell of a listener. May not have the advice they might be seeking, but he will absolutely do his best. They want to cry as a way of dealing with it? His arms are wide open and his clothes ready to be stained with their tears. Keeps his cybernetic arm wrapped around them while using his free hand to rub gentle, soothing circles on their back. They want to take everything out on shooting something? He'll collect as many empty cans and bottles as he can and let them use his weapon, or if they prefer their own, to shoot at them. Whatever they need to feel better, they really just have to ask and he will make it happen, if he can.
Gets giddy when their hand brushes up against his own as they're walking beside one another, or if they happen to fall asleep against him, using his non-cybernetic arm to lean against. Definitely watches them while they sleep, but not in a creepy way. No, he admires them, oh so lovingly. Carefully brushes their hair back from obstructing their face. He will also give them his portion of food a lot of the time, insisting they take it because he's full. He's not, but he wants them to get enough to eat for the day. Whenever they camp out on the sand, if they can't make it to a town, he always puts their sleeping mats/bags close to one another. He passes it off as a safety precaution, which it is, but he really just wants to be closer to them.
He didn't think it was possible for him to like someone as much as he did with them, nor can he tell if they've picked up on his little crush. Until they make it obvious that they know he likes them in such a way, things will continue on like this, or until something happens that he just blurts it out. Like a situation in which he could have lost them forever. He holds them close as he whispers his feelings into their ear, voice shaking from the fear of the scene that went down prior. He'd be fine if they didn't feel the same way. A little sad, but he doesn't mind simply being friends. If they don't and accept his feelings for them? Absolutely ecstatic and will hug onto them, lifting them up while also twirling around. He's just a happy man.
Wolfwood
He's actually very subtle when crushing on someone, or at least tries very hard to be. It's actually very noticeable to others, and maybe even his crush, due to how he acts around and with them versus everyone else. People can see the way his eyes soften when he looks at them, the way his voice is softer when speaking to them, and that little smile on his lips. Even his crush would start to notice, unless they're oblivious, then they definitely wouldn't have a single clue.
He's VERY protective of them. Unlike Vash, he'd actually put a bullet in someone if they so much as make his crush even the SLIGHTEST bit uncomfortable. Okay, well, he actually wouldn't at first, but if the person kept it up even after being told to knock it off? You better believe Wolfwood is doing something about it. He's also the type to hold his crush's hand and say it's so that he doesn't lose them in the town they're currently in, but he really just wanted to hold their hand. If they don't mind it, he'll even wrap an arm around their waist to keep them close to him, but only if they give him consent or make it obvious beforehand that doing so is okay. May the heavens have mercy on whoever decides to lay a single hand on his crush, because he sure as hell won't have any.
Same as Vash, he will actually give them the remaining portion of his meal if he knows they're not full. He just says he's a light eater and isn't that hungry, even though it may be the opposite. He loves touching his crush, and not in a creepy way. He can't really pinpoint the exact reason why, but it gives him some relief when he's holding their hand, them having fallen asleep with their body leaning against his, or even waking up somehow wrapped up in each other's arms when they camped out instead of staying in town. He especially loves when that happens, because he's usually the first one to wake up at their little camp, so he gets a bit of time to admire their sleeping face before having to pull away when they wake.
Wolfwood is great with children and he will apply that with his crush if they're having a bad day. Offers them a lollipop of their choice and will sit and listen to their problems. He's actually really great at giving advice because not only has he seen a thing or two, but he's been through so much, which he doesn't want his crush knowing about, yet. He applies what he knows and has been through in order to give them the advice that would best help to solve, or make, their problems better. He's also open for a hug, if they really want it. Seeing his crush in any sort of pain absolutely pains him, so yeah, he's doing what he can to make them feel better. If need be, he'll tell them a story from his childhood to make them feel better. A fabricated story, obviously, but he has his reasons of why he has to. Feels better after seeing that little made-up story cheered them up a bit.
Unlike Vash, he would actually be devastated if his crush didn't feel the same way he did. At least for a little while. He's an adult, so he obviously won't be sulking like a teenager. Will abide by the friends only thing, but sometimes it slips his mind because he will still find himself doing romantic-ish stuff. However, he's got the biggest grin on his face if they do feel the same way. Will want to celebrate with a kiss, which he's practically dreamed about for far too long while traveling with you.
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lets-try-some-writing · 4 months
Note
Heya! Hope you're doing well <3
So I have a world building question that I've been curious about for a while now, and I hope you're interested in answering; what would Cybertronian literature be like? Would they have fictional stories, or would it mostly be history texts and such?
If they did have fictional stories, I doubt they would have many, if any, romance books since they're obviously not a romantic species like humans. Would superhero stories with outliers be a thing? (Can't remember if outliers are viewed as bad or not). Would fantasy stories with like, Predacons be popular or would they be frowned upon with some mechs because of their history with them? (Looking at you, Kup and Autoway)
Hm, I wonder if stories with organic aliens would be a hit or not...
Considering how well Cybertron was doing before the war, I'd imagine their fiction stories weren't at the level and/or had the amount that are on Earth. Or would it have nothing to do with the state of Cybertron and more with that it was scoffed at?
My brain is just going wild with all the ways that this could turn out, but what I really, really want to know if they have fanfiction. Wait, would Orion write fanfiction??!! Dammit, Orion fangirling over a character has taken root in my brain
That wraps that whirlwind of an ask. Don't forget to not overwork yourself and stay hydrated! ❤️
Lore time?!?! Fantastic. So sorry its been *counts fingers* three to four months??? The writing vibe has been very picky as of late. Doing my best over here to answer asks from months back o( ̄┰ ̄*)ゞ
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙
Literature on Cybertron is a curious thing. Culture varies wildly from city to city, but due to governmental influence everywhere, a large portion of the consumable literature on the datanet follows a certain structure. Information is highly controlled, and thus, only literature that supports or otherwise agrees with the government is allowed to exist on any public platform. Things that do not conform with the regulations put down are deleted immediately. Thus the literature that is deemed "safe" is often bland, preachy, or straight up propaganda. While Cybertron's population may have tolerated the Council due to a lack of fighting capability at the time, they also weren't fools. Not a spark enjoyed the aft kissing works produced by those who couldn't be bothered to be original.
Thus the underbelly of literature came into being, a hidden series of trade networks and secret websites created to keep the quality writing safe from the Council. Most of the hidden works consisted of data from all over the planet, the things that the Council kept hidden. Police reports, body cam videos, documents, records, trade reports, incident reports, historical documents struck from the records, information on mecha who "vanished", and so much more. Everything one could ever want information was was down there in the dark parts of the datanet. Such things always came with a price attached.
If one wanted data, it needed to be paid for. Shanix was too easy to track, and so instead information was traded. Data for data, knowledge for knowledge. It was in the darker parts of the datanet that the Archives collected much of their... more confidential information. Alpha Trion never tolerated the loss of critical information and there were whole groups under his control dedicated to collecting what he wanted from those who possessed the knowledge. There were entire wars online when it came to data, some that even resulted in doxing and death. The world was dangerous, and with the Council hunting for any and all information, literature was a prized resource reserved for those with the ability to trade for it. Orion and Soundwave both were very well oriented with the trading performed on the datanet. They were well known under their online tags and both maintained very active information broking circles up until the war began. Even then, both managed to keep weaseling data out of their sources up until Cybertron went dark.
Then of course there was the less professional corners of the darker parts of the datanet. Works of fiction were by no means unusual, but they were only produced by mecha with certain... tastes. Most were not lacking in imagination, but rather the ability to make their visions legible. The ability to properly produce a work of fiction was, more often than not, difficult for the average mech to do. Most works of fiction came from the middle castes or the upper lower castes. Higher caste bots were not allowed to write anything serious for fear of backlash, and the lower castes simply did not have the time more often than not. As such, only the highly biased middle castes had any ability to produce fiction at all.
Sci-fi did not exist as a genre, for quite obvious reasons. More often than not, what fiction came into being tended to fall into several categories which matched the desires of the middle castes. Courtly drama was a world renown and beloved genre. Every mech ran into a work in the genre at least once, and the themes usually revolved around the main character either climbing the social ladder to get into the higher castes or somehow evading their hold to achieve something. It was wish fulfillment at its finest, but the middle castes adored the genre as it satisfied the desires they had. Ratchet wrote one surprisingly well performing novel about climbing the ladder to become CMO. It was based off his own experiences, and while not exactly popular, medics everywhere all universally knew of his novel, although not a spark knew he wrote it.
The second biggest genre was rather specific, and it happened to be the caste change genre. Every bot wished they were something else for the most part. As such, there was a plethora of documents that focused around a mech from one caste either moving up or down the chain and having to adapt to the new way of life. The cultural differences around Cybertron played their part in the caste change genre as mecha from all over the planet learned from and wrote their novels. Many serious misconceptions came from the novels of that type, but it tended to create a sense of tolerance amongst the population more often than not. Even still, there were more than a few crimes committed due to rather ridiculous misunderstandings regarding local culture from individuals who only learned from novels. While not common knowledge, Starscream wrote an incredibly well received novel with completely made up cultural norms for Vos that were so widely accepted that grounders everywhere got arrested en mass until the government stepped in. Starscream has yet to stop finding it amusing.
The third most popular genre was the only one the lower castes could feasibly relate to, and it happened to be about police and murder mystery. The stories had no set formula, unlike the prior two popular genres. However they almost always involved the main character eliminating some scum of the Earth, uncovering a deep dark secret, or putting an end to a horrific criminal underworld. It was pure wish fulfillment from middle caste mecha who knew just enough to want to change things, but didn't have the guts to actually go out and take a stand. Jazz wrote his fair share of novels relating to the subject, one of which became so popular that he ended up changing his identity twice and faked his death once in order to escape any connection to it. He didn't learn until vorns later that his novel, which was based on a real mystery, had actually solved a well covered Council kept secret.
Lastly there was the religiously oriented works of fiction. The genre itself was incredibly niche due to the differing beliefs and delicate nature of faith on Cybertron. But the few who wrote for the subject were masters of their craft. Usually they were artist renditions of old tales, retellings of myth and legend, or even fictional takes on the lives of old Primes. Highly heretical in nature, very few stepped into the genre of Primacy related anything. The Council was always on the lookout for such novels, and thus those who wrote them were far more likely to vanish under mysterious circumstances. What novels were written often didn't last long. The only three novels that made it out alive amidst the harsh censoring happened to be a set of novels written by Orion Pax in collaboration with Senator Shockwave and a novel done by none other than D-16 himself. The three novels all showed urban legends and tales from all three castes and were beloved globally, even if every physical copy was destroyed on sight.
Orion, and later Optimus Prime largely forgot about his written work. Unbeknownst to him, Megatron has kept a copy of his work and the two other novels. He has no clue Optimus and Shockwave wrote them, but he adores them and have lovingly gone into English teacher mode more times than one could count to find the deeper meaning behind everything. Humanity's love for 1984, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Dante's Inferno is the level of adoration Megatron holds for the three novels on his shelf.
There were other stories of course. Fantasy novels set far into Cybertron's distant past made purely off imagination and globally mocked by those who lived long enough to see the early days of Cybertron. A genre akin to Romance that focused on companionship and starcrossed designs put in place by Primus. Strange tales made by those on Colony worlds going into depth on organics and their cultures. Heroic stories focusing around Primus's chosen and champions of the people. Underdog tales with Outliers coming out of hiding or breaking their bonds to be free and express themselves as they saw fit...
The stories were diverse, but all were hidden. Every mech read them, but none spoke of them aloud. Literature was the quiet universal culture of Cybertron prior to the war.
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wangxianficfinder · 10 months
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In the mood for...
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1. Hello, I’d like some jealousy wangxian recs please! No dark lwj or dark wwx tho, like just them drinking vinegar but “healthily” (in the sense that they don’t take it out on their so) thankssss :))
breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm (T, 27k, wangxian, modern, miscommunication, assumed cheating, 5+1 things) features lwj being jealous of a-yuan because he thinks wwx has a boyfriend
Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar by masked (T, 13k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Fluff, Humor, Time Travel, 5+1 Things, Jealous WWX, the Impeccable Trust between WangXian, POV Outsider)
A storm without a warning by Spodumene (E, 22k, WangXian, WangYu, Modern AU, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Masturbation, Eventual Smut, Pining, Denial, Drunkenness, Jealousy, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Angst with a Happy Ending)
Straight at the Sun by diamondbruise (E, 33k, WangXian, Canon Universe, no war though, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Misunderstandings, First Time, Anal Sex, Miscommunication, Jealousy, in abundance, Happy Ending)
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2. ITMF... A fic like "Man on My Mind" and "For a Good Time, Call" , where wwx or lwj is a camboy or sex worker of some kind, and the other one gets obsessed.
Please no dom/sub/bdsm or abo/mpreg, anything else is ok.
(All Old Things are New Again series by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 59k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, cultivators can recognize important people from previous lives, vaguely, this started out as a cute sugar fantasy and got just incredibly horny very fast, blame LWJ) noticed this one has some d/s stuff so put in the brackets ~Mod L )
convergent boundaries by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 38k, WangXian, Modern AU, United States, Sex Cam Worker LWJ, Porn Star LWJ, LWJ has tentacles, Bottom LWJ, Fan WWX, Gentle Dominant WWX, Hints of Sugar Daddy WWX, Identity Porn, Financial Advisor LWJ, Former Tech Bro WWX, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Breathplay, Orgasm Delay, exhibitionist lwj, Exhibitionism, lwj FUCKS, Mentions of Vers and Switch Wangxian, Tentacles)
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3. hello!! for the next itmf, any fics about wwx's red ribbon? where did it come from? does he have a bunch of red ribbons? or is it an especial ribbon? did his mother gave him? his father? if it is a single special ribbon, how does post canon wwx copes with having lost his red ribbon to the corpses at the burial mounds? i have a lot of feelings about this ribbon. thank u for the attention <33
Red Ribbon by ElektraElentari (T, 6k, wangxian, major character death, canon compliant, Drabble Collection, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Grief/Mourning, Suicide, Eventual Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Character Study, Angst with a Happy Ending)
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4. Hello! Does anyone have recs for pastry chef aus? Like coffee shop, but focus on sweets? Any ship! Cake please! Thank you thank you!
Wangxian Versus World: Bakery Style series by stiltonbasket (T, 12k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, JC/WQ, SL/XXC, modern, Organized Crime, lotus sibs own a bakery, Lawyers au, firefighter nmj, Single Parents, married xuanli, Murder Mystery, Bakery and Coffee Shop, getting together, happy ending, adoption)
Bichen Bakery series by gusuvibes (E, 34k, wangxian, modern, bakery au, Pining, Getting Together, Baker LWJ, Nurse WWX, Zizhen in a STARRING ROLE, Bunnies With Bad Names, Elaborate Descriptions of Delicious Baked Goods, Frottage, Eventual Smut)
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5. Itmf fics with famous wwx and manager/bodyguard lwj!
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6. hi!! i was wondering if you had any recommendations for fics that are post canon and are just wangxian being domestic and cute!! thanks!! <33
❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff)
And Yet Here You Are by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Cloud Recesses, settling down, Separation Anxiety, Teacher WWX, very light angst, Chief Cultivator LWJ)
the lives of birds by bleuett (E, 15k, wangxian, post-canon, domestic fluff, gardens & gardening, humor, family feels, established relationship, anal sex, rimming, blowjobs)
small mercies by mellowflicker (E, 11k, wangxian, post-canon, fix-it, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Getting Together, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Switching)
beneath rose-colored clouds by RoseThorne (G, 327, WangXian, Rebirth, Symbolism, Gift Giving, Fluff, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV LWJ)
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7. Thank you for the good work! If possible, I’m in the mood for a fic where Wei Ying is taken to gusu for punishment—it could be something he agrees to to protect the Wens, could be something the sects agree on, could be something LWJ begs for instead of execution agter the siege. Preferably, no Dark!LWJ, just craving some angst where WWX and LWJ deal with him being confined to gusu as a prisoner.
not exactly a fic, but the comic series House of Gentians by @pakhnokh​ might fit
🧡 decay by antebunny (G, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort)
Torn Between This Life I Lead (And Where I Stand) by meicairoubingfan (kiradyn) (M, 4k, WangXian, Angst, Lies, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Imprisonment, WWX in Seclusion, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Implied Dubious Consent Due to Alcohol, emotional issues, WWX's Poor Coping Mechanisms, Self-Sacrificing WWX, POV WWX, Love/Hate, Referenced Wangxian (Song), Emotional Damage, Goodbye Sex, Suicide Notes, Calibrated For Maximum Emotional Pain, Gūsū Lán Sect Bashing, Gusu Lan Hypocrisy)
My Heart is a Cavern of Longing, Please come home? by LadyVamp (E, 39k, WIP, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Bitch WWX, Forced Marriage, Accidental Baby Acquisition, YLLZ WWX, Oblivious WWX, Canon - Módào Zǔshī & The Untamed Combination, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Depressed WWX, Sex In A Cave, Uncontrolled heats, JZX Lives, Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Pining LWJ, Pining WWX, LSZ is a Ray of Sunshine, Child LJY, LJY is WangXian's son, alpha to omega, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnant WWX, Mpreg) If you dont mind reading omegaverse
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8. ITMF for guilty lan wangji @yupkook​
Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending) link in #15
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9. hi! itmf for jealous wwx pre wangxian's relationship? maybe with a dash of possessiveness too 👀
A storm without a warning by Spodumene (E, 22k, WangXian, WangYu, Modern AU, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Masturbation, Eventual Smut, Pining, Denial, Drunkenness, Jealousy, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Angst with a Happy Ending) link in #1
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10. Hello! Please recommend fics with wei ying/lan zhan or both turned into babies/toddlers/kids and the other or their children or brothers take care of them. I have read all the classics like silver and gold, grow etc as much as I adore them please any thing new, I crave this genre. Canon or alternate please but not modern
Thank you @dramaqueenrolf​
i carry your heart with me by lulu_kitty (G, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, de-aging, fluff & angst)
sugar stains by lanjingyeet (T, 18k, wangxian, Kid Fic, General Shenanigans, Spirits, questionable parenting, junior trio on babysitting duty, Age Regression/De-Aging, Child WWX)
how do i forgive myself (for losing so much time) by thunderwear (M, 26k, wangxian, post-canon, Age Regression/De-Aging, Kid Fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, JC & WWX reconciliation, Fluff, Pining) LXC de-aged instead
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11. Hiiiiiiii 😊I absolutely love this blog 😍. It helps me so much when it comes to finding awesome fics!
Please can you recommend me some lengthy canon divergence fics that you love. I would love some where wangxian get together earlier and how it changes things or wwx leaving the jiang sect. Or even some with ylz wwx whos only soft on lwj. I wouldn't mind some a/b/o fics either.
Thank you so much 🌸
wide enough and wild by impossibletruths (E, 64k, wangxian, canon divergence, Getting Together, Canonical Accidental Baby Acquisition, Families of Choice,   References to Depression, Canon-Typical Violence, Happy Ending, Noping Out Of Society With Your Boyfriend And Your 50 Wen Refugees: The Novel, Overzealous Use Of Imagery, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Well Except Wen Ning But He Was Already Dead So, Fix-It of Sorts, [Podfic] Wide Enough and Wild by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))
the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (M, 38k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, set after the yiling date, Sick Child, the illness never gets worse than it is in the first 1000 words)
Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed (T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nostalgia, Subtly Assertive LWJ, very mild angst, Angst with a Happy Ending)
stay, fury, your wrist wrapped in silk by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 228k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ LWJ, LWJ loses his golden core, yiling wei sect, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, Injury Recovery, Temporary Character Death, War Crimes, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Revenge, Protracted Sunshot Campaign, temporary impotence, growing intimacy)
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12. ITMF fics set during the CR study arc where WWX gives up on bugging LWJ, either because he takes it seriously when LWJ or JC tells him to cut it out, or his own (lack of) self-esteem causes him to worry that LWJ genuinely hates him, or whatever. And LWJ realising that wait no he doesn't actually want to be left alone. (Bonus if there's some angst where WWX throws himself into his studies as a distraction & becomes a model student & LWJ now has to listen to LQR praising him & saying how glad he is that whatever was distracting him before has stopped.) @thispatternismine​
Of Bunnies and Sleeves and All Happy Things by moonwaif (G, 3k, wangxian, mutual pining)
Blooming You a Garden Inside Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 54k, WIP, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Happy Ending, Pain, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Sibling JC, One-Sided NingXian, Good Friends, POV Multiple, JC and WWX Talk About Feelings, JZX & WWX Friendship, Good Sibling LXC) maybe?
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13. for itmf, trans top lwj? with optional (strap) size queen wwx ❤️ modern or canon/cultivation solutions are both fine!
seized by desire by luckymarrow (E, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Yoga, Trans Male Character, Pining WWX, Dominant LWJ, Single Parent LWJ, Developing Relationship, Child LSZ, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus)
when the skies can’t sleep by HappyPrince (E, 2k, wangxian, modern, PWP, Objectification, Humiliation, Name-Calling, Spanking, Crying During Sex, Non-Con/Rape Kink, Trans LWJ, Trans WWX, t4trope, harness, Strap-Ons, Rough Sex, Sadism)
High-quality monster cocks, for your pleasure and your lover’s! by biasto_bias (E, 3k, wangxian, modern, reincarnation, hybrids, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Trans Male LWJ, Bottom WWX, Sub WWX, Top LWJ, Dom LWJ, LWJ pov, Enthusiastic Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Non-Con/Rape Kink, Painplay, Biting, canon-typical feminine self-description from wei wuxian, Rough Sex)
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14. Hi! For the next itmf… any fics with mini version of mdzs lovers? Like for example Wwx has a mini version of Lwj and Lwj has a mini version of Wwx. (Can be a soulmate indicator where once they reach a certain age, they will have a chibi/mini version of their soulmate)
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15. This is kind of a specific ITMF so please bear with me, but: I've read a few arranged marriage fics where Wangxian got off to a rough start, and they both were convinced the other was unhappy in the marriage, so they both tried to do what they thought the other wanted and it just ended up making things worse, like WWX making himself miserable by obsessively complying with the rules like a Good Lan Spouse(tm) and LWJ realizing WWX won't laugh or smile when he's around (excessive emotion is prohibited!) so he tries to stay away as much as possible so WWX can feel more comfortable, and they're just both feeling so guilty for not being what the other wants. It's my current favorite flavor of angst, so if anybody has anything with similar vibes, pretty please lay it on me.
💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Pining, slow burn, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, bottom LWJ)
Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending) the ultimate unhappy marriage angst fic
The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication) the arranged marriage bit takes a little while but oh the angst is so good when it comes
A Myriad of Blossoms by Itszero (E, 60k, wangxian, Bottom LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, YL WWX, Hurt LWJ, Cruel wwx, he's cruel until he's not, Protective WWX, Caring WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Dark WWX)
All that is solid melts into air by huxiyi (T, 18k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Growing Old Together, Breaking Up & Making Up, Post-Canon, Character Study, Getting Back Together)
To Bring You Back Within My Reach by ablaiseofglory (M, 20k, WIP, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, No dubious consent, Adopted Children, Kid Fic, A/B/O Dynamics, omega wwx, Alpha LWJ, Misunderstandings)
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16. #itmf I'm in the mood for a fic which deals with Wei Ying's three month long disappearance from Lan Zhan's point of view, about Lotus pier burning and Wei Ying missing and whatever rumors to the rumor that he fell into the Burial Mounds? If this is too specific, then Lan Zhan's POV on Wei Ying's three months in Burial Mounds (at any point of time in mdzs verse) would do as well @wutheringskies​
trees long for peace but the wind will never cease by RoseThorne (G, 1k, WangXian, Angst, Fantasizing, Hero Complex, Yearning, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Love, Coping Mechanisms, Coping, POV Third Person, POV LWJ)
waiting, shivering by kornevable (T, 2k, JC & LWJ, Introspection, Missing Scene, background wangxian)
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17. Hi! I was wondering if you’ve got any fics to recommend where lan wangji married into yunmeng jiang?
The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication) link in #15
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 7 months
Text
Everybody Hurts
Chapter 12
Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader
Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.
18+ Only for eventual smut
The smut has arrived. You've been warned.
Next chapter: 11/15
Word Count: 7.5K
Masterlist
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
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‘My Dude’s Pies’ stood out starkly in bright yellow letters on the front of the otherwise nondescript brick building. There was nothing particularly special about it from the outside. It didn’t stand out in any way. It looked like most of the other businesses along the main street in Hawkins. Nothing that would really catch your eye or bring you pause but the inside was an entirely different story. 
Your eyes widened at the riot of color that greeted you as you and Eddie walked through the door. The walls were painted a neon green with a huge mural of a slice of pizza riding a wave decorating the largest wall. The other walls were filled with various artwork, all quirky and eclectic: a cow wearing sunglasses, a tiger in a garish purple velvet suit, a collection of paintings of trolls' toys with a rainbow of brightly colored hair. Multi-colored lights hung from the ceiling and snaked around the walls. The furniture was a mish mosh of neon colors, your eyes assaulted with glaring shades of hot pink, flaming red, electric blue, and florescent yellow. The floor was white tile, blocks of the same brilliant shades sprinkled throughout. 
“My dudes!”
You looked up to find Argyle coming through the swinging doors from the kitchen, his arms raised over his head in greeting. Of course. How had you forgotten that Argyle owned the pizza place in town? The decor here perfectly matched the loud fashion choices of the man currently walking toward you, pulling you into a bone-crushing bear hug. 
“Hi Argyle,” you gasped, your chest constricted with the force of the friendly embrace. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure, friends?” he inquired. “You two craving one of my tasty pies?”
“I was just hungry, man. The lady said she wanted pizza, so here we are,” Eddie answered.
“Wait…” Argyle stepped back, his fingers pointing between the two of you, dancing just like his eyes, a grin stretching his mouth wide. “Oh! Oh! Are you two dating now? Is this a thing? It looks like a thing. How did I not know about this?”
“No. Absolutely not a thing. This is definitely not a date,” Eddie protested, his hands waving in front of him as if that were the most offensive thing he’d ever heard. “I’m just helping her out with a car. We ran to the junkyard for parts and I was hungry so I mentioned grabbing something to eat and she picked pizza. Just trying to be nice, man. Something new for me.”
“I see,” Argyle nodded. “Also getting real tired of the ladies chewing your ear off about chasing their new friend away, huh? And the car worked out! That’s rad. You know, Jonathan has some really good ideas sometimes. When he said you should get her your uncle’s car, I thought that was bogus because you two can’t stand each other. But look, here you stand in my restaurant ready to chow down together. So, it all worked out, right?”
Annoyance rippled along your spine, your ears buzzing as you silently seethed at his words. So, you’d been right all along. Eddie didn’t want to hang out with you. He hadn’t found you a car and offered to work on it out of the goodness of his heart. His friends had put him up to all of this because they wanted you to get along. Anger bubbled within you until it was boiling over, spilling out, completely out of your control anymore.
“Yeah, it all worked out. What a stand up guy to do exactly what his friends told him to do even though it’s awful for him, being forced to spend time with me. And us dating? Can you imagine?” you snorted obnoxiously, knowing you were being immature but not caring. “What a ridiculous idea. Like he would ever want to date some mainstream Prom Queen like me. He’s far too edgy for me. I’m too boring and normal. Actually stuck-up bitch is how I believe he put it if I’m remembering correctly. That would definitely go against his own personal motto of keeping that hardcore metal asshole image.”
Both men’s jaws dropped, eyes wide as you shoved past them and made your way to the front counter to order your food. At this point, you just wanted to eat and go home. Just as you were beginning to feel like you were becoming the person you hoped to be, someone strong and smart who would never let anyone else treat you like garbage, Eddie managed to make you feel like an idiot all over again.
Because wasn’t that what an idiot would do? Close their eyes and pretend they couldn’t see what was happening right in front of their face? Just like you did for a year, hell, for your entire marriage. Ignorantly ignoring all the signs, choosing to stay in your safe cocoon of ignorance over facing the glaring problem in the room that would implode your life. No, you didn’t know Cam was sleeping with your best friend but as you looked back, all the signs were there. The two of you had not been a happy couple for a long time. And now Eddie was just another problem you were trying to ignore, continually hoping for something that wasn’t there, pretending everything was fine when it was anything but.
“Hey, what can I get you?” asked the perky teen girl with a beaming smile that was manning the cash register. 
Your eyes scanned over the menu, remembering how yummy that pineapple pizza had been the other night. “I’m going to get the Pineapple Express.”
“For here or would you like it in a box to go?”
“You know what? Can I get it to go please?”
There. You could get your pizza and then he could take you home. Eddie could just go sit in his house and eat his pizza all alone since being with you was clearly a chore for him, something he was only doing to play nice, to keep his friends from being mad at him. You would enjoy your pizza and maybe dive back into your book that you needed to finish before it was due back at the library. 
You stepped down to the end of the counter to wait on your pizza just as Eddie stepped up, ordering a ‘Slice to Meat you.’ Your eyes flicked up to the menu, noticing it was basically a four meat pizza with bacon, sausage, pepperoni, and ground beef. When the girl asked him whether he wanted it here or to go, he answered that it was for here.
“He meant to go,” you called out to the girl.
You could feel Eddie’s eyes boring into you as he protested, “Actually, I want mine for here.”
“Well, I got mine to go so you may as well get yours to go too. Wouldn’t want to force my company on you any longer than necessary,” you muttered, folding your arms, eyes trained on the kitchen, refusing to look at him. 
“Both of our orders are for here,” he ground out through gritted teeth.
A hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, not enough to hurt but firm enough to get your attention. Eddie pulled you away from the counter and over into the corner of the restaurant, your bodies shadowed from the rest of the customers, the lighting dim. Your back pressed up against the wall, his body so close you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him. 
“Alright, what the hell is your problem now? I asked you out to dinner. I didn’t ask if you wanted to grab food and go. I assumed that meant we were eating it here, together,” he snarled, keeping his voice low in an effort to not draw attention.
“You are my problem. You’ve been my problem ever since I first laid eyes on you and I just want to take my pizza home.”
“Jesus Christ, you bitch about me but are you aware of how unbelievably frustrating you are? You want to talk about mood swings? You went from pleasant to nasty in a matter of seconds,” hissed Eddie. “What the hell was that about, huh? I thought we were past all that. I thought we were trying to be nice to each other. I fucking apologized, using the actual words because you insisted, for what I said to you. I brought you food. We sat and watched a movie. We hung out today. I thought we were cool so why did you have to throw that back in my face again?”
You opened your mouth to argue with him but quickly snapped it shut again. What could you possibly say to explain the way you’d acted without telling him the very thing you never wanted to utter aloud? I threw it back in your face because I like you but it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me and that made me act like a five year old who wasn’t getting their way?
No, you absolutely could not say that. Nor could you explain how he kept sending signals that made you think maybe he was interested and then just as fast shut you down. If you said that, you were openly admitting that you were hoping for something to happen here and that was the most mortifying thing you could think of. He would reject you, right here, in front of Argyle and word would quickly spread among the group and you’d never be able to show your face around them again. Hell, you wouldn’t be able to show your face in Hawkins. In a town this small, everybody would know before you walked into work on Monday.
“You’re right,” you admitted, gritting your teeth as you did so, the words painful to even speak because he wasn’t right but you couldn’t tell him why. “I did forgive you. We’re past it. Just forget it, okay? It’s fine. We can eat our pizza here.”
“Pineapple Express for Y/N!”
You pushed past him in a huff, grabbing the box from the young guy, forcing a smile and thanking him. You dropped down hard into a chair at the nearest table, opening the box. The pizza smelled amazing but your stomach was so twisted up with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t that you weren't sure you could eat it even if you wanted to.
Eddie sat down across from you, his own pizza on a silver tray. He grabbed a slice, taking a large bite and then sat back, spreading his legs wide. His eyes assessed you as he chewed slowly, as if he were a doctor and you were exhibiting the most unusual symptoms, his brain struggling to come up with a diagnosis. Well, that was fine. You  certainly weren't helping him fill in the missing information. 
“So…we’re fine?” he questioned.
“Yeah. I said we were, didn’t I?”
“I know what you said but based on your body language and the way you’re staring daggers at me right now, I am getting the distinct impression that it’s not actually fine,” he grumbled, dropping his pizza back on the tray. His body leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table. “So, you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. Seriously. It’s fine. Just drop it.”
“Look sweetheart…”
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
Eddie’s head ricocheted backward, “Okay. Fine. I’m just a little confused here. I thought we were doing okay. We had a nice night last night, a good day today, so what changed?”
“Nothing. Nothing changed so you don’t have to worry. You’re doing your job. You’ve been nice to me. You pitied me and helped with my car. You even took me to dinner and hung out with me and now your friends will be happy with you because you can say we’re getting along. So, we’re good. You did good, alright?”
“I pitied you? You think I asked you to grab something to eat because I pity you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe or maybe not but you definitely asked me to dinner and are fixing my car and hanging out with me to make sure your friends don’t yell at you for being rude. Argyle made that pretty clear. So glad that Jonathan was able to come up with a solution for me since I’m such a problem for you. I’m just telling you, mission accomplished. If they ask, I will let them know what a nice guy you’ve been. So, you can stop doing things you obviously don’t want to do.”
“I didn’t ask you to get food with me for my friends. I also didn’t offer to fix your car for them. Yeah, it was Jonathan’s idea that I show you my uncle’s car but I chose to offer to fix it. They are very well aware of what an asshole I can be and they’ve stuck around for over ten years. I’m not worried about them being pissed at me and I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, darling.”
“Fine,” you huffed, folding your arms over your chest, eyes challenging him. “If not for them, then explain to me why we’re sitting in this pizza place.”
“Did you ever consider the possibility that maybe I liked hanging out with you?”
“No! Why would I?”
“Jesus H. Christ, woman, you can be so damn stubborn,” Eddie growled, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “Is it really so hard to believe that I can be a nice guy? That maybe, just maybe, I just want to try to be your friend?”
“Yes, it is when you say shit like you were hungry so you figured you’d try out being nice and invite me along. That doesn’t sound like you wanted to share a meal with me. It sounds like you felt like you should and I don’t need to be anyone’s charity case.”
“Do I seem like the type of guy who would take on a charity case out of the goodness of my heart?” he demanded.
“Yeah, actually you do,” you shot back. “I know all about your little DnD club, Hellfire, right? I know how you took in Dustin, Lucas, and Mike because you noticed they weren’t fitting in, sitting all alone. I think it’s admirable, really, but I am not some freshman in high school who’s being isolated from the group. I can take care of myself. I’m not one of your sheep and I sure as hell don’t need a shepherd.”
His eyes widened, head tilting, “Who told you about Hellfire?”
“Jonathan,” you answered shortly, realizing just a bit too late that you may have divulged more than you should have.
“And how exactly did that topic come up?”
“We were just talking about the group, about how everyone met. He told me Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on, how you took the boys under your wing their freshman year, and gave them a safe space.”
“Oh he did?”
“He did,” you mumbled. 
It was only a half lie. That had been what Jonathan said but it hadn’t exactly come up as organically as all that. But you couldn’t tell him the real reason. He pissed you off and drove you nuts but you didn’t want to hurt him. Telling him about Lance, about what he’d said, would only cause him more pain and no matter how much he upset you, you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.
“Someone should tell him to keep his big mouth shut about my business,” grumbled Eddie.  
“Why? Because someone might actually mistake you for a good guy,” you teased, a small smile breaking through your previous annoyance. “Can’t have that, right?”
“Letting those little shrimps into my high school club does not make me a good guy. Most people in this town would tell you it made me the bad guy, actually. Welcoming them into my club for losers and freaks, painting a bullseye on their backs for four years of torment.”
“I disagree. Those kids were going to be targets whether they joined your club or not. Besides, most seniors would not take the time to acknowledge some lowly freshmen, let alone go out of their way to make sure they felt like they had somewhere to belong. I think it speaks to who you really are, the person you try to hide behind all the surliness and unpleasantness.”
“Oh yeah? Weren’t you the one who just moments ago didn’t even want to share pizza with me and now you’re certain I’m really a good guy?”
“I never thought you weren’t a good guy. I just know there’s something that’s caused you to bury him down deep, something that hurt you. I can see it all the time. It’s in your eyes, in the way you shut down, in the way you mask any possible emotion with anger because that’s the easiest one to handle. You don’t want to be vulnerable with anyone because you don’t want to risk it.”
“You don’t know anything about it,” Eddie grumbled, head dropping, that mass of hair veiling his face as if he were trying to hide from you. As if he were trying to keep you from seeing the truth and really, wasn’t that what he’d been doing from the first moment you met?
“You’re right. I don’t, but I get the distinct impression that you think you’re all alone but you’re not. You have a mess of people who genuinely seem to truly care about you, who seem willing to do anything for you if you’d only let them in.”
“Do I?” he questioned, leaning back in his seat again, lean arms crossing over the top of his shirt. “And do you count yourself among one of those people, sweetheart?”
“I would like to be,” you admitted, your stomach twisting at the honesty of your words, at the vulnerable state you were putting yourself in by telling him the truth. “If you’d let me. I mean, you know, be a friend to you.” You added that quickly, not wanting to send this conversation veering off course or send him shutting down, thinking you meant something he very obviously didn’t want.
“Well, after two meals together, I think we can safely say we’re friends,” he replied softly, those plush lips pursing together as the corner of his mouth, a dimple appearing on the same side. 
“Good,” you smiled, grabbing your pizza, hunger returning with the very large step you’d both just taken. 
Friends. You could do that for him. You could be his friend. You would push your attraction down, somewhere deep where it couldn’t reach the light of day, and learn to be okay with this because it was all that he wanted from you. You couldn’t be angry with him because he wasn’t attracted to you. You couldn’t control attraction. So if friends was all he wanted, then you would be his friend.
___________________________________________________________
“What are you doing?” you asked curiously as Eddie got out of his van after you. 
You were sitting in front of your house and you’d assumed he was simply dropping you off. You’d both managed civil, polite conversation while you’d enjoyed the rest of your pizza. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He hadn’t suddenly divulged the deep dark secret that you knew was buried in there but it had still been nice. You’d actually talked for an hour without arguing once.
You had enjoyed the way his face softened, his eyes warmed, as he talked about his uncle. The man clearly meant everything to him. He hadn’t told you what you already knew about his parents. He clearly didn’t trust you enough yet and you weren't going to bring up his ugly past but he had told a few stories about growing up with his mom’s brother. 
You’d particularly enjoyed the story about Wayne dressing up as Santa Claus after an eleven year old Eddie insisted he wasn’t real. He’d loudly brought in the presents, banging around on purpose to wake the kid so he would catch sight of him. Eddie had been shocked to his core, everything he thought he’d been certain of suddenly in question. He’d believed in Santa until he was fourteen after that, no matter what the other kids had to say on the matter. But he never told anyone he was real, that he’d seen him, not wanting to be mocked at school. 
“I’m walking you to your door,” Eddie answered, that look on his face again, the one that said he thought you were dense, as if walking you to your door should have been obvious. 
“Umm…ok,” you mumbled, the two of you walking side by side up your sidewalk. 
Eddie’s hands were tucked into his pockets as he climbed the steps next to you. You stepped up to the door and reached into your purse for your keys before pausing and turning to face him. 
“Thanks,” you said softly, “you know, for helping with the car and for dinner and everything. It was nice, you know, getting to hang out with you, feeling like you actually might not be completely repulsed by me.”
You laughed awkwardly, trying to play it off as a joke but it fell flat because you couldn’t really find it funny. Especially not right now, with the way Eddie was looking at you. 
Eddie’s jaw lifted, his head tilting to the side, “Repulsed by you? That’s an interesting choice of words.”
You shrugged, pulling your lower lip between your teeth, “You certainly seemed to be.” You waved your hand in dismissal, trying to play it off. “Look, it doesn’t really matter anymore. We decided to move past all of that, right? My point was just that it was nice, feeling like I was your friend, that maybe you’re okay with me being around because I really like your friends and I would like to keep hanging out with everybody. I haven’t really…I mean, I’ve spent the last four months alone, basically. It’s nice to have people.”
“Sweetheart, I have never been repulsed by you,” Eddie stated, shaking his head, those brown eyes burning holes straight through you, your skin suddenly warm, uncomfortably warm as he stepped into you and you stepped back with nowhere to go, your back pressed against the door. “Not once. How in the hell could anyone be repulsed by you?”
Your breath caught, the ability to pull in air suddenly felt impossible as the back of his hand came up, brushing along your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, the feel of his skin against yours filling you with an overwhelming need. You battled yourself, refusing to take the first step, not willing to open yourself up to his rejection, a concept that was so shockingly painful it caused an ache within your chest. 
“I don’t understand,” you managed to choke out, head swimming, scared to allow yourself to read anything in his words, knowing you could be twisting them into what you wanted. And god, you wanted it so badly at this moment. 
“The first moment I saw you, this face across those flames, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen,” Eddie rasped, his fingers moving over the back of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair. His nose was grazing, featherlight, across your forehead and your legs threatened to send you to the ground. 
“I…Eddie…this is…I don’t understand what is happening. What the hell do you want from me?” you pleaded, hands pressed flat against the door in an effort to keep yourself stable because he was shaking your foundation to the core. 
“Too much,” he whispered, words growled against your ear. “More than I should.”
His lips crashed into yours and it was indescribable: a meteor shower blazing across the sky, heat lightning setting your soul ablaze, a cyclone of desire that was destroying everything in its path. Every time you’d imagined this very moment, you’d been so wrong because your mind could never have come up with this. It was as if your soul recognized him and was pulling toward him like a magnet, desperate to connect with the piece it had been missing. He was leaving his name tattooed across your soul with a single kiss, marking you forever.
You finally allowed yourself to slide your hands into that hair, fingers tangling through luscious, thick waves. Eddie’s hands flattened against your door on either side of your head, his chest pressing against yours, pinning you between him and the wood. His tongue slid across your lips and you parted them eagerly, moaning as he licked and explored, leaving nothing untouched, completely consuming you, making you feel him everywhere at once.
It was a kiss that made you forget about every other kiss you had ever had. Cam who? No kiss with Cam had ever felt like this. It was a kiss like they show in movies and romance novels. It was a kiss that made you feel as if you were living in a dream because there was no way reality could feel this damn good. It was a tidal wave crashing against your shores, washing away any trace of anything that wasn’t him, his lips as they devoured you, his tongue slipping along your own. 
“House,” he growled into your mouth, his voice deep and raspy, filled with the longing that you felt to the very tips of your fingers and toes.
“House…” you gasped. “Yeah…”
You turned, struggling with your key, your fingers trembling. It didn’t help when his hands slid around you, thumb running just under your shirt, rough and calloused against the skin of your stomach. His face nuzzled against your hair, tongue tracing the edge of your ear, and you fought like hell to find enough clarity to get the key in the door. 
You’d barely pushed the door open before he was on you again, crushing you to him, his foot kicking the door shut roughly behind you. He walked forward, causing you to stumble back and then your back was pressed against the wall again. His nose ran along your cheek, across your jaw, down the side of your throat and you trembled at the simple contact as he breathed life back into you with his touch.
Then his lips joined in the fun and Jesus. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he explored the column of your throat and then his lips latched around the skin, suckling it into his mouth. You cried out, your hand grasping the back of his head, holding him against you, the sensations moving straight down between your legs, an ache that refused to be ignored pulsing insistently. 
“You smell amazing,” he breathed, kisses pressed against your pulse point, tender skin sucked between his lips, teasing with his teeth. He was going to mark you. Your thirty year old self was going to be walking around with a hickey but you couldn’t find the will to care. “You are so goddamn beautiful. From the moment I saw you a few weeks ago, all I could think about was touching you, running my hands over every inch of your body, finding out just how good you taste.”
Holy fuck. A soft whimper fell from your lips, your skin trembling at his words. Was this really happening right now? All those times you’d imagined this, this exact moment, you’d never believed it would ever become a reality. Could it possibly be true? Had he been wanting you just like you’d been wanting him?
His hands pulled at your shirt, yanking it over the top of your head and tossing it. The frenzy of just mere seconds ago halted as he stood admiring every inch of you. Cam had never looked at you like that, like you were the most desirable woman he’d ever seen. Eddie’s eyes roamed over your chest, the black lacy bra that hid nothing, your nipples already hardened into peaks, pressing against the fabric as your chest heaved in anticipation. 
“Jesus H. Christ,” he breathed, one hand coming to cup the mound of flesh now revealed to him, his thumb moving over your nipple as you gasped, biting on your bottom lip. “Your ex is a fucking idiot. You are so damn perfect.”
His lips fell to your chest, open mouthed kisses against the flesh that spilled from the top of the bra as his hands slipped around your back, working at the clasp. He released it quickly, expertly as if he’d done it a dozen times, discarding it to the floor. You arched toward him, your body aching for his hands, his mouth, anything. You had never been so turned on in your entire life.
You writhed as he worshiped your breasts, teeth and tongue and lips everywhere. Teasing, sucking, nibbling until you were panting, your hand buried in his thick locks, holding him against you. Your hips rocked forward, craving more, craving all of him, as if you were an addict and he was your drug, the only thing that could satisfy this burning need blazing within you. He pulled one nipple between his lips, sucking hard, so hard it hurt but it was the most blissful kind of pain, the kind that made you want to beg for more. 
Eddie rose up straight, his lips finding yours once again, tongue exploring your mouth, massaging your own. You needed to see him, all of him. You grasped at his shirt and he pulled away just long enough to yank it over his head. As your eyes fell on his pale flesh, a canvas of battle wounds, a patchwork of scars just like the ones on his neck and arm, you gasped softly. It was like you were looking at a roadmap of his past, the pain he’d been through, proof of how strong he was to have survived whatever horrors he’d endured.
“Eddie,” you whispered, your fingers reaching out, tracing the deep, dark, and jagged lines along his abdomen.
At the feel of your touch, Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping him, as if he was starved for it. As if he hadn’t been touched in far too long. You felt him shiver, his heart beating fast and hard under your palm, his chest rising and falling rapidly. It filled you with a searing sadness, wondering how long it had been since someone had touched him with affection.
He grabbed your hand, bringing the pads of your fingers to his lips, kissing them gently. Then he bent down and grabbed his shirt, preparing to pull it back over his head and you reached for it, pulling it from his hands. 
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry…I…I know it’s hideous,” he mumbled. “I can keep my shirt on so you don’t have to look at them.”
Your heart fractured, tiny jagged pieces crumbling into dust at his words, at the way his face crumpled, as his expectation of rejection. Had other women seen this and turned from him? Had someone actually asked him to keep his shirt on? You were filled with a strong desire to punch them in the face if they did. 
“No,” you told him softly, tossing the shirt across the room. “You don’t have to hide from me.” You stepped into him, pressing your lips against the scar that was at his collarbone, relishing the sweet groan that fell from his lips. “This is a part of who you are, proof of how strong you are, and I don’t think you’re hideous, Eddie. I think you’re beautiful. You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Don’t ever cover yourself up because you’re absolutely perfect.”
Your lips moved, pressing against each and every scar, worshiping him just the way he had you. The soft sighs he made with each touch of your mouth filled you with warmth. You were overcome with a desire to take away this man’s pain, to show him just how beautiful he was, how his scars didn’t diminish him. They were a testament that he had fought and survived. What he’d fought you didn’t know but after seeing the evidence on his body, you couldn’t believe this was the work of a bunch of rabid raccoons. 
You brought your face to his, kissing the scar along his jaw, your tongue moving along the raised and angry skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently and he groaned, cupping the back of your head and tipping it back. He smashed his lips to yours, urgent and needy. 
“Eddie…” you whispered as his lips traveled again, exploring. They moved between your breasts, along your stomach before he dropped to his knees in front of you, undoing your shorts and pulling them, along with your panties, down your legs. You lifted each foot, allowing him to remove them completely. 
His hand ran over your leg, down to your calf, gripping it and hooking it over his shoulder, opening you completely to him. You gazed down at him, biting your lip and he grinned, cocoa eyes now dark with lust before he pressed his face against your center, nuzzling his nose in, inhaling deeply. Your head hit the wall at the slightest contact. 
“You don’t…I was going to…” you managed to squeak out, though you weren’t sure how as his lips traced over your calf and then the skin of your inner thigh. 
“No. I’ve been dying to know what you taste like for days…” he growled softly, his teeth biting down into the supple flesh of your thigh, causing you to shriek as your head slammed back against the wall. 
Your brain lost all ability to form a coherent thought as his tongue ran over your folds, spreading you open. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as they rocked toward him, moving as if they had a mind of their own, a mind that wanted to get as close to his mouth as it could. 
“So fucking good, Prom Queen. So wet for me already,” he growled, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it like a hard lozenge to soothe a painful ache. 
“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” you yelped, hands slamming against the wood of the door. 
His tongue flicked, lips sucked, teeth raked until you were on the verge of tears, your orgasm already coiling like a snake ready to strike. Two thick fingers slipped through your slick, teasing at your opening, and then he pressed them into you, pumping them rhythmically, his tongue never letting up its attention on your clit. 
He worked like a man on a mission, like he was starving and you were a buffet of delicacies spread out before him. Cam had always acted like doing down on you was a chore, something he was required to do so he could get what he wanted. Eddie acted like this was the main attraction, like your pleasure was the only thing that mattered, like he couldn’t get enough of you. 
“Oh my god…” you keened, hands flat against the door, trying to keep yourself in an upright position as the muscles in your legs quivered, knees threatening to give out beneath you. 
“Not a god sweetheart…just a freak. A freak who’s going to make you cum harder than you ever have,” he mused, burying his face, mouth wrapped around your clit as he shook his head back and forth, fingers curling within you, hitting a space Cam had certainly never found and you bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood. 
Your entire body shook as the tsunami that was your orgasm crashed down over you. Your vision went white and you began to slide down the wall to the floor, your legs unable to support you anymore. Eddie caught you, arms around your legs, creeping upward as he stood. He kept a firm grip on you as he kissed you soft and deep. 
“Holy shit,” you gasped through a haze of pleasure, your body jello that had been left out in the sun, oozing into all the cracks of the sidewalk, unable to form a substantial shape.
“That was so much better than I imagined,” Eddie whispered against the shell of your ear, strong arms locked around you. “Fuck, Prom Queen, the sounds you make…your ex ever make you feel that good?”
“I…he…huh…” you managed, your brain still completely checked out. 
Eddie scooped you up easily, carrying you up the stairs bridal style. His lean body was deceiving as he held you as if you weighed nothing, kicking open the door to your room, laying you back on the bed. Your eyes followed him hungrily as he removed his pants and boxers, revealing even more of those angry scars over his legs. Fuck, it was like something had tried to consume him, biting off hunks of flesh anywhere and everywhere it could reach. 
His hand felt in his back pocket, retrieving a foil wrapped condom and your eyes widened. Had he planned for this? Hoped for it? Why else would he just be carrying a condom with him when he knew he would be spending the day with you? He ripped open the foil with his teeth, rolling it down over his substantial girth. Your eyes watched him eagerly, your pussy already pulsing again, needy for him, wanting to know what he felt like inside of you.
His fists came down onto the end of the bed as he crawled his way up to you, surprising you when he turned you onto your side, spooning you from behind. He gripped his cock, rubbing it over your folds, through your wetness and you moaned, pressing your ass back against him, eager for him to fill you, to feel all of him. He used the tip to tease your clit, working you up until you were whimpering again, desperate for him. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he thrust up into you. 
“Oh shit…” you groaned, eyes rolling back in your head as he hit the deepest spaces within you, his cock bottoming out with each roll of his hips. He was stretching you deliciously, his cock thicker than anything you were used to. “That’s so good.”
“Yeah? You like that?” Eddie breathed in your ear, one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, pulling you flush against him as he rocked himself in and out of you again and again. 
“Yes, fuck yes.”
“You feel so goddamn good wrapped around me, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so damn wet,” grunted Eddie, his fingers walking from your hip to between your thighs, teasing your clit once again. 
“Jesus…” you whimpered, rolling your hips against his hand, causing you to come back even deeper on his cock each time he rocked forward, both of you groaning at the new sensation.
“Keep doing that, Prom Queen. Fuck, feels so good,” he muttered, lips pressed against your shoulder. 
You continued to rock your hips, panting, sweaty, your bodies slipping along each other. That snake coiled up again quickly and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, not with his cock hitting all the right places and his fingers playing you like a fucking piano, hitting all the right notes every goddamn time. 
“Eddie…I’m gonna…I’m so close…”
Eddie’s fingers gripped your chin, turning your face toward his, “That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me. I want to see your face when I make you lose control.”
His words were like a force, snapping you like a rubber band. “Oh Eddie!” you screamed, white hot pleasure exploding from your center just as he grunted your name and rutted deep inside of you, his own orgasm taking control. 
“Fuck,” he muttered, body quivering behind you. He slipped from inside you gently, pulling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can right next to the bed. Rolling onto his side, he propped himself up on his arm, smiling down at you, thumb running along your jaw. “So, what do you think? Can we manage to be friends?”
You laughed, the sound loud and explosive at the absurdity of his words, “I uh…I don’t usually do that with friends.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never had a friend that’s made me rock hard every time they walk by,” Eddie shrugged. “I mean, Harrington’s pretty but…”
You snorted, rolling into him, pressing your cheek against his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. You’d told yourself that a relationship was the last thing you needed. You’d convinced yourself that you just needed to find yourself but now, you were more than content to find yourself while being with Eddie. If something good came along, even when you weren’t planning on it, why would you risk throwing it away? What if no one ever made you feel like this again?
“I have not been this happy in over a year. The others are never going to believe this,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “They think we can’t stand each other. What are they going to do when they find out we’re…” You paused, not sure how to finish that sentence. “What are we? Is this…something?”
Eddie stilled next to you, clearing his throat. “We don’t really need to rush to name this anything yet or define it or…you know, announce it to anybody. I mean, who knows what’s gonna happen, right? No reason to jump the gun.” 
A weight crushed your chest at his words, “So…was this just a one time thing?”
“That’s not what I said. I just don’t think we need to make some big declaration about it. Who knows what this is right now, right? I mean, we don’t even know what this is. No need to confuse everybody else.”
“Right…” you murmured, not wanting to put any pressure on him, to come across as pathetic, to admit how much you wanted this to be the start of something more.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Alright, sweetheart, this has been amazing and everything but I am going to grab my clothes and I’ll get out of your hair, okay?” 
Eddie sat up, bursting your blissful bubble. What? You reached out for him, struggling to comprehend the sudden change of pace. How did you go from having sex to him ready to leave so quickly? Your hand wrapped around his forearm. He looked down at it and then back at you quizzically, one eyebrow lifted. 
“What? What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought…I mean, I assumed after that…” you sighed, frustrated at being put in a vulnerable state where you were admitting how weak you really were, how needy you were for him to stay. “I thought you’d spend the night. We could watch a movie or something.” Sitting up, you pressed your lips against his bare shoulder, your arms coming around his waist. “Maybe do this again. I could even make you breakfast tomorrow.”
He looked away from you quickly, too quickly, and you felt your heart sinking. All the joy, the pleasure, the anticipation of things to come melted out of your body, dread taking over. He was regretting it. You’d allowed yourself to believe he wanted more and he was shutting down on you again, locking the door, leaving you out in the cold. 
“Uh…as tempting as that sounds, I should really get home. I mean, I gotta get up early tomorrow and…”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. The shop can’t possibly be open on Sunday.”
“No, but I told my uncle I’d help him with uhh…with this thing. I mean, something with his truck. And I live closer to him than you do. It just makes more sense to stay at my own place. Besides, I don’t want to wake you up early on a Sunday when you could sleep in.”
Panic inhabited every cell of your being, desperate to keep him there, fearing that if you let him walk out the door, all of this would have been for nothing. He would go back to being who he’d been the last few weeks. You would now be the idiot who slept with a guy who never planned on anything more than a one night stand. 
“I’m sure your uncle would understand if you showed up a little later. You could always call him and…”
“No,” Eddie stated, his tone very clearly letting you know that the discussion was over. “Look, this was nice. It was great.” He rose from the bed, pulling his pants on. “But I don’t think we’re at the staying at each other’s places level yet, okay? We barely know each other.” Now his shirt was over his head, his hands checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. “I’ll call you.” 
Bending down, he kissed the top of your head and then darted from the room as if he couldn’t get away from you fast enough. You pulled your knees into your chest, battling back the tears, the awful pain in your chest, the insistent voice telling you that you were a moron, a moron who’d let some guy use you all over again. 
Chapter 13
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jooniperbonsai · 4 months
Text
Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One
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Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)
Rating: 18+
Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)
Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.
Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s
Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.
Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.
When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.
Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.
a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!
xo - h
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That’s it baby cum for me. 
Such a good little slut for Daddy.
Wish that dildo was my cock. 
Fuck this is so hot.
The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this. 
Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day. 
His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone. 
Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone. 
Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.
Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay. 
Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into. 
Two Years Ago
It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé. 
During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase. 
But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college. 
For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car. 
Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello. 
When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong. 
Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon. 
That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship. 
As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection. 
So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift. 
He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon. 
What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table. 
As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior. 
It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.
Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning. 
When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life. 
His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever. 
After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options. 
“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said. 
“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together. 
But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.  
The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant. 
Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown. 
During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours. 
Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can. 
Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case. 
A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over. 
Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.  
Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of. 
“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.
His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him. 
It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.
His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach. 
But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain. 
Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion. 
In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since. 
But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him. 
“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.” 
“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”
The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer. 
Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”
Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh. 
“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly. 
Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him. 
“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious. 
“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”
“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!” 
Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions. 
“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.” 
Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.
“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.
“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls. 
“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!” 
“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit. 
“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”
Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.” 
Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room,  it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.
Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!” 
“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.
 “No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”
The entire room went silent. 
“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm. 
Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one. 
How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men? 
Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying. 
“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”
Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.” 
Seokjin winced. 
“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”
“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added. 
“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”
Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous. 
“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.” 
“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased. 
“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want. 
“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”
“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up. 
Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize. 
He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know. 
“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?” 
Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.” 
The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face. 
Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him. 
“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?” 
Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”
A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.
“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.” 
Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.
Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress. 
“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking. 
“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.” 
Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up. 
“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?” 
That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.
I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot. 
When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in. 
Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty. 
So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)
I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.
For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel. 
Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t. 
Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making. 
Jin, the moon. 
That’s it. He was the moon.
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Present
“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.  
Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job. 
Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread. 
The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over. 
And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.
He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers. 
One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right. 
If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.
But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.
“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.
On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.
It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own. 
You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.
You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears. 
You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.
But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world. 
Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway. 
Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends. 
When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life. 
Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor. 
He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that. 
A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.
Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.
And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.
But try telling his dick that.  
Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties. 
And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.
This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading. 
During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him. 
He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste? 
And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.
He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–
Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while. 
As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms. 
He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach. 
Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?
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She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow. 
Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man. 
Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating. 
“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said. 
He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.
Where was that man now? She didn’t know.
She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived. 
Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.
He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.
It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else. 
She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free. 
She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.
Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her? 
No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future. 
This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.
With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown. 
“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found. 
She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to. 
She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back. 
She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall. 
“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.” 
She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner. 
There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August. 
The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off. 
You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality. 
To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people? 
You don’t. That’s the problem. 
Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends. 
You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to. 
Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous. 
But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play. 
And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence. 
Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary. 
As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t— 
“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”
Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel. 
“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”
“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”
“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.
Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.
Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.  
After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk. 
But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. . 
From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments. 
Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them. 
Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.
But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.
The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you. 
But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real. 
Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.  
And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill. 
Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod. 
When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin. 
The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in. 
Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into. 
For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin. 
Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty. 
It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.
Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in. 
And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.
The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce. 
And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours. 
When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red. 
If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.
Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude. 
All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing. 
Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down. 
With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry. 
With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity. 
In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off. 
You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait. 
Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.
The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.
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“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots. 
When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee. 
Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe. 
Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill. 
“That all depends on how much you practice.”
“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor. 
Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”
“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to. 
As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon. 
This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice. 
And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties. 
“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse. 
There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon. 
Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.
Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast. 
And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore. 
With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags. 
You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll. 
When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace. 
Snow is really romantic.
“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face. 
“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks. 
“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining. 
A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward. 
“What do–”
“I just–”
You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin. 
“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating. 
“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”
You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn. 
“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?
Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him. 
While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes. 
You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection. 
He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.  
He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time. 
While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim. 
Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional. 
You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response. 
“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”
Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says. 
Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak. 
His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” 
You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”
You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it. 
“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”
As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in. 
“Yeah,” you reply lamely. 
You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression. 
Then, he leans in.
Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.
Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek. 
All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.  
This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness. 
If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock. 
It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you. 
“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name. 
“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?  
“Turn around,” he says. 
Wait, what? 
You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind? 
Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.
“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused. 
He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for? 
“Wha–”
You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet. 
Fuck.  
“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath. 
Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago? 
“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck. 
Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet. 
“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead. 
Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes. 
“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off. 
He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board. 
“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.” 
You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it. 
“Your best girl?” You ask lightly. 
Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”
You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her. 
If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.
“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue. 
“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.” 
You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily. 
“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes. 
You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him. 
God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.
You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control. 
After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter. 
He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him. 
In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor. 
Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster. 
You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large. 
You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend. 
You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down. 
The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal. 
“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you.. 
You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked. 
“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself. 
“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard. 
Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height. 
Holy shit.
Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside. 
You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over. 
“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince. 
“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.” 
Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing. 
“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.” 
You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold. 
“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.” 
You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair. 
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other. 
“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns. 
“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”
You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.” 
Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head. 
“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother. 
“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything. 
“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”
Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair. 
“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.” 
Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self. 
You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk. 
A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it. 
“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”
Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth. 
His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it. 
Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere. 
You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple. 
That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.
Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs. 
His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face. 
“I–I’m sorry!” 
Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen. 
You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot. 
And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into? 
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The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door. 
Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down. 
Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.
Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates. 
If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess. 
Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.
“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.
Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess. 
You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters. 
You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same. 
You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin. 
He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip. 
He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count. 
He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen. 
“Wait,” he says, and you freeze. 
Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours. 
“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”
Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.” 
Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.” 
His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.
Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?
You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it. 
As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”
“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own. 
“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”
When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful. 
As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something. 
With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well. 
You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give. 
You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead. 
That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard. 
You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day. 
How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous. 
Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips. 
God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around. 
He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock. 
Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard. 
If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen. 
Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy. 
It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all. 
Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension. 
You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this. 
You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas  up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.  
The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal. 
Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible. 
You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with. 
As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it. 
You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit. 
Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop. 
You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier. 
The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now. 
And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today. 
You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum. 
Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation. 
You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop. 
You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind. 
You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point. 
You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising. 
Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money. 
You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive. 
Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved. 
There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring. 
You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate. 
In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well. 
You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category. 
The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”. 
You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil. 
“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans. 
Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.
You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch. 
“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”
His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you. 
“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.” 
The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts. 
To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.
“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”
Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.
“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.” 
You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity. 
The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more. 
“Please,” you moan at your screen. 
Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself? 
“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”
You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.
“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”
Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate. 
Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything. 
Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again. 
“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.” 
Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied. 
He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock. 
“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.” 
In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash. 
You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.
Please, Daddy. Please let me cum. 
I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear. 
Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock! 
Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course. 
The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record. 
He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar?  “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.” 
Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe. 
There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock. 
“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit. 
The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip. 
“Is this what you’re begging for?” 
Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes. 
Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip. 
“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow. 
“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.” 
You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like. 
Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.
“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me.  Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out. 
Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing. 
His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out. 
Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory? 
There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far. 
“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”
Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release. 
He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan. 
With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”. 
“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.” 
The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling. 
You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant. 
Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago. 
He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site. 
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©2024 by jooniperbonsai
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rarestdoge · 1 year
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Ayo, who he blushin at tho? 🤨
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llovelyclouds · 9 months
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notes on cassiopeia the first
here's all my notes on cassiopeia (my beloved) that i thought seemed relevant during my tlt reread!
(you can find the rest of my posts from this project here!)
CASSIOPEIA THE FIRST
titles:
Fourth saint to ascend, (??) gen, founded the sixth
notes from harrow the ninth:
Name origins, from the pronunciation guide at the end of htn: "NOTE: Cassiopeia's most famous namesake is the vain queen of Greek mythology who chained Andromeda to a rock, but this does Cassiopeia the First a disservice, as she was honestly just a universally beloved and clever human being who made beautiful meals with the occasional finger error. The evolutionary pressure of Lyctorhood has, alas, selected for jerks."
Came up with the magma metaphor for the river that John later uses (htn. pg. 94)
The only lyctor to last seven minutes in full physical submersion in the river (htn. pg. 97)
Died trying to lure an RB through the current of the river. It followed her, but the spirits killed her, and the RB emerged unscathed 20 mins later (htn. pg. 97)
Had a ceramics collection (htn. pg. 105)
Was able to perform necromancy her first time in the river (htn. pg. 156)
For some reason, the fact that Harrow was also capable of this was part of what gave John the idea that something was up with her birth… interesting!! What does this say about Cassiopeia?
Specialised in studying the river (htn. pg. 171)
Coined the term "periscoping" in regards to the RB's (htn. pg. 173)
Was great at cooking, but once cut off a finger that fell into the food and didn’t mention it until everyone had eaten it (htn. pg. 231)
was a lightweight lol (htn. pg. 268)
Died fighting the seventh RB, Varun (htn. pg. 333)
Brought the RB into the river alongside its brain (htn. pg. 337)
was the person to tell Mercy that blood wards can be bypassed with the genetic material of a close relative (htn. pg. 474)
notes from nona the ninth:
was originally brought on Johns team by oversight execs to handle contracts as their lawyer, but was "on their side before the first year was over" (ntn. pg. 13)
"C- was panicking because with the project over she was getting recalled to England and didn't want to go, she'd got N- and didn't want to leave her, refused to admit they were dating even though we all knew." - John 5:20 (ntn. pg. 73)
specifically worked in contract law (ntn. pg. 99)
when she found out about the cow wall they had to lock her in the kitchen so she could throw up in private for a while (ntn. pg. 192)
"C- kept saying, Pick one. Are we more invested in proving this new plan is bullshit, or in saving you? I was like, It's both, how can it not be both. C- was like, It can't be both. Pick one and stick to it. Decide what you give a fuck about." (ntn. pg. 280)
"'Does God know why the Sixth House left?' 'I'm assuming some grisly moral reason that you're about to impart,' said Ianthe, 'and I want to warn you against sounding like a tract.' [...] 'Cassiopeia the First left us instructions years ago,' said Camilla. 'We left for a lyctor.'" - Ianthe & Cam (ntn. pg. 335)
"Cassy played long games." - Pyrrha (ntn. pg. 336)
"C- had been saying, Can't we gin up an act of good wizardry? Any way to stabilize the North America glacier? Any way to trap the atmosphere over the Northern Territory, show them we can fix things here?" (ntn. pg. 397)
“C- admitting out of nowhere she’s dating N-. All of us like, What? We've known for a year? Go ahead and get married already, we've got a nun. N- was all, That’s not legal. C- of all people said, Who cares. That’s how bad it was. [...] C- and N- got married right over there, you can’t see it now ‘cause of the rubbish. I made flowers grow for them out of the garden, but they came out… weird. Some of the roses had teeth. C- and N- thought that was hilarious. [...] The dome meant we hadn’t had full sunlight in a while. It was beautiful anyway. I cried the whole service. I couldn't remember the last time I’d eaten food.” (ntn. pg. 400)
“At this point my people were like, John, what the fuck? What the fuck is happening? We were all yelling at each other. First time I’d ever seen C- angry.” (ntn. Pg. 401) 
 “C- said, John, your problem is that you care less about being a saviour than you do about meting out punishment. I said, C-, I was just your best man! C- said, You still are. That doesn’t change the fact that you can be quite the most appallingly vindictive person I have ever met.” (ntn. pg. 401)
“They’d shot C- first… and right in front of my eyes they shot N-. Bubble wrap. I don’t know what happened to them..” (ntn. Pg. 406)
“Cass and Mercy and I worked on cell thanergy- we need thanergy, fresh thanergy, to activate…” - Pyrrha (ntn. pg. 471)
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gingersn4pp · 11 months
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A large collection of signalis AU doodles of mine and my buddy cam's ocs! Further description under a readmore, bc i got a lot to say about em LMFAO. I defo gotta draw more of the canon units more than just my ocs because they're all so cool -- the aras are especially charming to me!
Though I got to solidify the corrupt versions of my ocs too....
Lucy, STZR "SPATZEN" is basically a flight coordinator, stationed on an outer space station that is one of the last stops on the edge of the system. Occasional encounters with penrose style missions, she excels in calculating trajectories into the vastness of space. Dedicated to the Nation, though has a particular curiosity that often gets her into trouble/disputes with her superiors, often HENE, cam's management unit, much like a belligerent teenager to her strict mother.
Meyer, an LSTR unit (or similar type!) Assigned to a Penrose exploration mission, though on the edge of everything, her Gestalt officer (Percy) backed out and ran away. Can she really be mad at them, though? She told them to think of themselves more. It doesn't matter how devoted she was if it was one sided. She's out of place on this distant space station, but with limited resources, the ARAR units are grateful for the extra mechanical help. Meyer butts heads with the inexperienced STORCH unit, Boa, but despite their confrontations, they eventually grew closer. Meyer was trying very hard not to get attached...to no avail. :*
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kestisvrse · 3 months
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headcanon collection: dating cam cameron
♫ - new romantics by taylor swift
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(slightly suggestive at the end?)
· belly or jere introduced the two of you
· instantly drawn to each other (or atleast he is to you.)
· even if you were a party person, if he ever was at the same one as you you found yourself escaping to a quiet place with him
· if you were in the same school i imagine him always leaving little notes in your bag or locker
“you look pretty :)”
“i like that colour on you”
“hang out after school? □ yes □ no”
· study buddy, also how you got to know him better and what led him to even asking you out
· he loves when you talk about your interests, he just stares in awe and nods as you speak
· he goes over to your house one day while you were baking cookies and that just becomes your guys thing, always baking together
· meaning cliche movie flour fights, all. the. time
“we need to start keeping track of the winners”
· STARGAZING.
· like i swear if the skies are clear he is asking you to go on a walk or drive to look at the stars
· as you get closer and he gets a bit more confident he definitely gets touchier
· he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything so its always subtle
· shoulders pressed together, knees hitting or your fingers interlocking
· you’re cold? he will give you his hoodie
· if he doesn’t have one on him he will immediately go and buy one it doesnt even matter
· i dont see him owning many hoodies, but he definitely owns less when he starts dating you because he keeps giving them to you
· having them returned to him awhile later because they ‘lost their smell’
· he will fall asleep if your hands touch his hair in the SLIGHTEST
· ok exaggeration but seriously playing with his hair is actually his favourite thing ever trust
· not big on nicknames but would probably drop an occasional “babe”, “angel” or “sweetheart”
· but saying that, he loves when you call him nicknames, like will melt at anything you call him
· so if you had asked to call you a nickname he definitely would do it more often
· not big on pda, minimum he has to be standing next to you, holding your hand or resting his hand on your back, he’ll place a quick kiss to your lips or forehead but not often
· he makes up for it when you’re alone, taking every opportunity to show you how much you mean to him
· for some reason i just imagine like, your first kiss being underwater
· like you’re both pushed into the pool and while under the water just say fuck it and lean it
· even if people are around, it’s just so in the moment
· as much as he loves staying in, cuddling and watching a movie, he LOVES taking you out on dates
· it doesn’t have to be public, he likes bike rides or picnics, scenic things he gets to experience with you
· makes you playlists
· like he doesnt just update one, he’ll make a new one every few months, or ones for certain moods
· you’re sad and he can’t be there? he makes you a playlist of songs so you can think of him and hopefully feel better
· the BEST at comforting
· he’ll listen and only give advice if you want it, or even if you don’t want to talk he is there rubbing your back or tracing shapes on your hand to calm you down
· he like is definitely secretly easily jealous
· like you would never be able to tell if he was, and he would never tell you
· unless it’s someone like, touching you or obviously flirting with you, he will immediately have his arm around you hoping they will get the hint
· but usually he hates getting jealous, especially if its just a friend or he is misreading it
· so he stays silent because he trusts you and know you wouldn’t talk to or encourage anyone trying to get with you
· even while dating he still does the note thing, this time scattering them around your room, in your draws, placing them so you could keep finding them for months
· definitely has a million photos of you, and has a problem with printing them off and putting them everywhere around his room
· he’s absolutely WHIPPED for you
· he loves putting his hands under your shirt onto your waist, feeling how warm you are as you blush
· nose kisses.
· i don’t think hickies happen a lot
· like he loves kissing your neck but he never leaves a mark
· but occasionally slip ups happen, and he’ll feel so bad but you don’t even care, because it shows everybody that you’re taken
· i don’t think he would be a huge fan of you kissing his neck
· probably tickleish so he ends up squirming and giggling
· he likes when you kiss his face though, it doesn’t matter where, he just loves it.
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pomegranateboba · 2 months
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Hiii girlie pop skibidi toilet bom bom jgwwkvwiwgwiwbwiw (wow i am so funny)
Can u make the ArcTwi boy with the Summoner who makes weapon like, yk, machine gun and the summoner, with the magic they learned, added some extra stuff to the machine gun and... Well...
Anw have a nice day girlie pop ily 🥰😘😘
hello pookie anon 🤩what extra stuff though 🤨 I'm just gonna assume its like glitter or something and not whatever I'm thinking rn (milk-) I don't know what to name this headcanon 💀
Arcturus
He turned the corner and was hit with a face-full of orange glitter
And the orange glitter turned him into an orange juice machine
Yeah now you have Arcky the orange juice machine
He was not expecting that at all
He knew about your machine gun, he knows about your passion for making weapons
But why Summoner. Why.
Free orange juice I suppose
Time to go collect the rest now that you have placed orange juice machine Arcky in your room
Spica
You found him in his office
"What do you need, Summoner-?"
He was cut off due to green glitter in his face. Now, he's a ladle
He was disappointed but not surprised at your behaviour
He feels weird no doing paperwork because he is now an inanimate object
Now we have ladle Spica, what next
You placed ladle Spica next to orange juice machine Arcturus and went outside
Alpheratz
He was just asleep under his tree, why do you have to do this
He didn't notice anything
You gave him red glitter and now he's a spatula
He didn't realise what was happening until he woke up as a spatula on your desk in your room, placed next to ladle Spica and orange juice machine Arcturus
He assumed it was Pollux or Sirius at first, but then again he was in your room
He suspected that machine gun
Ah well, Spica can't nag him if he's a spatula, also Spica is a ladle now
He went back to sleep
Pollux
Pollux was just trying to find Arcky
He cam up to you after class and asked you where Arcky was
And then pink glitter occurs
And poof now he's a toaster
Pollux was speechless. Not like he has a choice. He's a toaster now.
Somehow, he wasn't surprised
Wants to ask you what spell you used after he's not a toaster anymore
You placed Poaster next to Spadle, Alpatula and Arcky (I don't know how to put Arcturus and orange juice machine together-)
4 down, 2 to go. Gotta get them all, as the wise people say
Vega
Poor guy, he just wanted to go out with you
You gave him the glitter treatment
And from the blue glitter was a teaspoon
You always knew he was the little spoon
Vega was just...no
He wanted to go out, no? So you placed him in your jacket pocket so that he can hang around you
Time to find the red flag
Sirius
It actually wasn't that hard to find him
He was in his room, trying to fix his hair
Someone had put something in his shampoo and now his hair is all wonky
You managed to sneak in and purple glitter him
He was actually trying to avoid you, because he saw how you glittered Arcky
But due to plot, he is now a meat grinder. Why? Idk.
Sirius was like: *surprised pikachu face*
Or it would be if meat grinders had faces
You happily skipped back to your room with Sirius the meat grinder in your arms and Vega the teaspoon in your pocket
We got them all >:)
Rigel
Plot twist: Rigel was your accomplice
Only for Sirius though, he was the one who messed up Sirius's stuff
In return for helping you, he was spared from the glitter treatment
That machine gun scares him
More peace and quiet for him, so he didn't object
He didn't wanna help at first, until you pulled out the gun
He's just gonna pretend nothing happened and that he was not involved
But if you tell on him, he will find you
I feel like this is less about the machine gun and more about the kitchen utensils-
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