#give determination and courage and the like

[saycheeeese]

It's been 281 days since you last saw another human being. You couldn't risk staying outdoors for long - that is, unless you want to run into a zombie. Those mutilated creatures now practically roam more than half of the world, and in only the 2 years they've been here, they've gotten way stronger. By raiding countless shops, they've enhanced their artillery and population, and the death rate drastically goes up daily.

Now, you're crouched on top of the run-down building you've been living in for the past few months, peeking over the edge, ears perked for any sort of noise. You ran out of rations a week ago, and you've managed to scrape by, occasionally coming across a god-forsaken convenience store, the lights fused and the entire area reeking of dust and wet carpet, a few canned foods edible in the midst of rotting perishables. So you finally got the courage to venture into the gloom and snag something to give you some kind of nourishment.

You almost deem the area safe when you hear the noise of rock crunching. Your breath catches in your throat and you drop to your knees, daring to look over the edge. Your eyes strain and water against the dark and pollution, trying to find -

There!

You lower yourself a bit, your knees popping, and you hiss. Three dark figures approach the street, moving stealthily. The middle one turns to the left one and whispers something, to which the left one slaps the first one's head. You cock your head. They certainly don't seem like zombies, you swiftly put two and two together. As they sidle into sight, the fluctuating, muted streetlight sluices them in a green glow.

On the left is a boy with spiky hair - really spiky - and his hair color is hard to determine in the colored light. You decide it's either a dark blue or black. He's standing straight and tall, hands in his pockets, mouth in a firm, straight line. The middle one is yet another boy with pink hair. You narrow your eyes. Pink? His eyes have some sort of markings under them, and you tense. But when you see him say something and grin, elbowing the tall boy, you conclude he might not be a zombie. Something warms in your heart to see the cold, tough circumstances haven't taken away his joy, even if it seems a bit subdued. The one on the right is a girl, thankfully. Her brown hair gleams in the ghostly light, and she bites down on her lip to stifle her smile. She also seems a bit serious, but not as much as the spiky-haired boy. In one blink of your eye, she has the pink-haired boy in a headlock. Seems like an ordinary teenage group, you nod to yourself. No danger, but I'll scout the area once they're gone.

You sigh, and lower yourself to the ground, but fate isn't on your side as your elbow hits the the rusted metal can on your left, and it crashes to the ground. You manage to grab it at the last moment, but it still created a whole lot of ruckus. You grit your teeth, heart in your throat. Their voices abruptly cease, and the echo still rings in your ears - why did this place have to be so quiet?

"Who's there?" Someone sternly says from below. You lay down on the roof, hiding every inch of your person from sight. There's a gap between the once ornate edge and the roof, seemingly a drain, and you squint through it. The tall boy signals to the others, and they stiffen, shifting closer to each other and taking up a defensive stance. The tall boy points to the roof, exactly where you were a moment ago, and the others look up there too.

"Who is there?" The tall boy asks again, his voice sharp and commanding.

You contemplate blowing your cover, but you still haven't decided if they're working for the government or some new kind of twisted thing the zombies have created. Or, maybe, you don't want to talk and explain yourself.

"Whoever is there, come out this second," the girl steps up and orders, one hand on her hip and the other clutching a dagger. Where did she get that?

"Or we're going to come up there and drag you out ourselves," the pink-haired boy says, his voice more serious than before. His bubbly expression is gone, and he's warily staring at the aforementioned spot. The three of them palm their weapons and advance toward the building. You groan, deciding it's better you show yourself. At least you know your stealth and fighting. Thank the heavens for the training you had and the zombies you beat.

Before they can react or shout, you hoist yourself to you feet, knees cracking noisily, almost glide over the edge and scale the building, feet lodging onto any kind of purchase before you reach the rusted pipe and jump onto it, shimmying down and landing on the ground with a thud. You wipe your grimy hands on your black tights, previous residues of dirt, blood and whatnot concealed by the color.

A sharp intake of breath has you sharply looking up, the three of them staring at you as if you're a zombie. You bare your teeth, spreading your feet apart and raising your hands. They might think you're in a defensive stance, but you're doing it so they can see you don't have any weapons on you. That they can see, of course.

The tall boy ignores the pink-haired boy as he says something to him and takes one step forward. "Who are you?"

"Nobody of importance," you shrug. You didn't realize months of not using your voice would turn it so raspy and hoarse, and you almost cringe as they shrink back.

"Who are you," he repeats, eyes assessing you deftly.

You repay him the courtesy, scanning them thoroughly with your eyes. "Not a zombie." Something in you wants to mess with them, act like an ass - purely because you've seen too much to act sweet and kind and like the girl you were before it all went to hell.

The pink-haired boy subtly grins. "I like her," to which the girl jabs him in the ribs.

"I don't aim to harm you or anything," you drawl, "but if you have those intentions, then please get the hell away from me."

The tall boy narrows his eyes at you. "You live here?"

"I don't have a permanent abode, but this is where I've been hiding since the past three months," you shrug. You notice the other two's shoulders relaxing. "What about you?"

"Different city," is all he says. He turns to his group. He must have something in his expression, because the others shrug, tilting their head. He sighs and turns back.

"What's your name?" You ask them, dropping the defense and placing your hands on your hips, lifting your chin.

"This is Megumi," the pink haired boy answers, pointing to the tall boy - whose hair is definitely blue. "This is Nobara, and I'm Yuuji. Who are you?"

Merely because his risk level is low, you answer, "(Y/n)."

Nobara eyes your clothes. Her eyes quickly dismiss your tights but stay on the baby blue jacket, which is now stained with grime, dust and coal. She steps to Megumi's side.

"Cute clothes," she grins.

"Th-"

"Where'd you get them?"

You're taken aback by how swiftly she took out her dagger and is now a few steps away from impaling you. Her face is serious and assessing, eyes glinting in the streetlight as her breath fans your face.

"An insignificant shop, down there," you point, "I got it just a few weeks ago."

"Liar. There are zombies infiltrating every nook and cranny - how did you get it? You're working with them, right?" The cold tip of her dagger rests on the hollow of your neck. The others tense - you wouldn't blame them, her accusation is logical.

You reply calmly, although every muscle in your body is locked. "I studied them. from behind a rusted-out car: one had a missing leg, one was too bloated to move fast. One was tall; top-heavy. Weak ankles. Then I moved. I cracked open a can of cheap soda and rolled it. It hissed across the pavement and two of them followed the sound. I grabbed a piece of rebar and slammed it into the cement at a slant as a tripwire. Then I whistled, and the noise brought one straight toward me. But I crouched, rolled, and let it stumble straight into the rebar. It tripped. I stomped the back of its skull before it even hit the ground.

"Then, I kicked a rock at the bloated one’s head, enough to enrage, not kill. It flailed toward me, unbalanced, arms reaching. I timed it. Sidestepped. And it crashed into a shattered window frame. The jagged glass impaled it through the chest. I used her boot to shove it deeper and bashed its skull. I climbed the awning above the door quietly, not even breathing., waiting for one to walk under. Then I dropped. My knees slammed into its back. The weight snapped its spine like dried bark. I ripped a shard of metal from the signpost and dragged it across its throat and drove it into its head." You stop to take a breath, a haunted gleam on your face.

"I remember them snarling. The last three rushed at me and I ran, baiting them toward a power pole draped in broken wire. Luck was on my side, I guess. I ducked under, but they didn't. The tallest one slammed into the live cable. Sparks snapped and two of them were lit up like birthday candles, shrieking, unaware as I decapitated them. I faced the last one, with no weapons. Just cracked knuckles. It chased me, and I went there (you point to an alley), cornered it between two dumpsters, and gruesomely beat the crap out of it. Their heads crack open easily."

Nobara backs away, a corner of her lip lifting in a smirk. "I like her."

"Thanks. I guess some violence is necessary."

"Wait - so you can fight?" Yuuji gapes at you.

" 'Course I can," you beam at him, the foreign action hurting your cheeks. It had been a while since you last smiled.

"You did all that for ... a shirt?" Megumi asks, though you notice he's not as tense as before.

You shrug. "If I'm gonna die in this world, I'm not doing it in a tank top with holes in it."

Nobara and Yuuji grinned, and Megumi raised a brow. Guess that's all the appreciation I'm getting, you wonder. Though it's a lot coming from this serious boy.

"Are you sure we can trust her?" Megumi says under his breath to Yuuji.

"I guess so, yeah," Yuuji cocks his head.

"I think so, too," Nobara offers, striding over to them.

Megumi looks at you for a moment before nodding, the tension seeping away from his shoulders. The two of them whisper something in his ear, and he sighs, glancing at you.

"Are you happy where you live?"

"Do I look like I am?" You raise a brow. "I mean, I'm alive. That's fine. But - happy? In this world?"

"You could be, if you lived with people," Yuuji supplies. "Though you sound like you were the one who created the alphabet."

"You sure you didn't hear the Big Bang?" Nobara suppresses her grin.

"Come on, it's obvious she saw the dinosaurs go extinct," Yuuji nudges her.

"Though, girl, you look like the last time you ate was at the Last Supper," Nobara appraises you.

"Guys," Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stop it. We don't tease people who witnessed the fall of the Roman Empire." He chastises them, although his lips lift imperceptibly. It takes you a while to understand he made a joke, too.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, coming from the people whose expiry date expired," you roll your eyes.

"She has humor!" Yuuji whoops, and Nobara hisses.

"Just because we met a human doesn't mean the zombies are gone," she snaps, and Yuuji pouts.

They glance at you and shift on their feet.

"You could ..." Megumi began, biting his cheek. "Join us, you know?"

"Yeah, if you wanted to, of course," Nobara intervened.

"You'd help us a lot, and we could give you our food and clothes - we know how to fight, too," Yuuji shrugged, excited.

You smile. This offer might change your life ...

And maybe, just maybe, you were looking for a change of events in this world you knew no longer.

★ please tell me if you want another part or a fight scene where you four encounter zombies ★

[ryuto12-gaming]

Thinking about how Aline painted her family in contrast to how Renoir painted them

She sees Clea’s solitary war, how she stands alone now so instead of grieving with her she Paints her a partner, someone like Renoir. Strong, brave, unyielding in his love for her. Someone she could rely on if she had to. She’s fiercely determined, seen in how she’s able to briefly break from the paint over real Clea gave her, showing ever bit of Clea’s fire.

Verso is made immortal. She will never lose her son again. He’s cunning and brave, he lies with ease. If you chose to fight as Maelle in her ending, you’ll find out Verso has a weakness to fire damage. He loves the piano, loves trains, he’s willing to make the sacrifices that must be made same as real Verso.

Alicia is her worst interpretation, one so clearly colored by her grief and anger. Alicia is given monotone colors, a mask to hide her scars that bring Aline to the fire. She keeps her blue eye, the one thing all her children share with Renoir. She was given the ability to stop time, to change the world without input from anyone else like with the fire. At the same time she shares abilities with Aline, able to turn the world monotone. Her appearance suggests only what Aline sees when she looks at Alicia: the fire. Though she isn’t completely monotone, she keeps small gold flecks on her left hand in line with the gold accents Renoir and Clea wear. She’s also able to speak, but still maintains the damage to her throat. She’s a poet, a painter, and a fencer though, her hobbies not forgotten by Aline.

She does a fairly accurate Renoir. He’s strong, protective, loyal to this family, ever guarding all of them. It’s why she gives him a giant lion for literally no reason, because that’s exactly how she sees him. But he’s over grand, the three piece suit, the unnecessary overcoat, the lion. But that’s what she needs him to be: larger then life, able to carry her burdens and pain, to help her grief without his own. She makes him into both the Dessendre shield and her shoulder to cry on because that’s what she needed.

Simon is just Renoir but slightly different. Powerful, courageous, would do anything for Clea. He’s as willing to fight what’s essentially his god as real Renoir is to slowly die for Aline. She wants Clea to be happy and have companionship so she Paints Simon. He’s loving, his final thoughts even as Renoir is gradually taking over his mind, he thinks of Clea.

[maoam]

What do you think of this wattpad article explaining Sakura’s love for Sasuke?

https://www.wattpad.com/1165203867-sasuke-sakura-an-analysis-5-sakura%27s-reasons-for

You do understand this has like what 10+ parts? I can't use pics much because wattpad doesn't allow me to copypaste text, so I have to use screenshot. Thus I can't use as many pics from the manga to debunk lol. I am NOT going to handwrite her arguments. Maybe I'll make a video or masterpost to another site about SS. But I'll address couple of the claims now.

She lost hope in Sasuke though.

There is a reason why Kishimoto did this constantly with Sakura in the war arc. He used juxtaposition, a writing tool to compare Naruto and Sakura throughout the manga. While Naruto was determined, sure of himself and his relationship with Sasuke, and aware Sasuke was good inside (for example, he looked happy and content when he announced that he won't give up on Sasuke even if they both had to die), Sakura looked meek, unsure and upset. She didn't trust Sasuke. When that random guy told Sakura Sasuke must a good guy since she loves him, she felt guilty. Since she thought it wasn't true. Even in her confession, unlike Naruto, Sakura was angry, upset and pathetic. There was no other reason for Kishi to do that other than to show Sakura did not know the true Sasuke, nor did she care for him.

Sasuke shared his deep thoughts and feelings to Sakura... and Sakura said he never says anything to her. XD Because she does not give a damn about his deep thoughts or his feelings. Both her confessions showed she knew nothing of substance about him. She said she'd be just as lonely if Sasuke left as Sasuke was when his family was massacred, and then took her own family for granted in the process. She's ungrateful and shallow and takes things for granted that mean the world to Sasuke. How on earth are these two compatible? Aside from that, Sasuke does not need someone as weak as Sakura. He doesn't want or need Sakura bawling her eyes out and making a pity party to make him feel sorry for her, and he found it annoying everytime. Just because Sasuke found it in himself to be polite, nice or courteous with Sakura at times, doesn't mean she is someone who has traits Sasuke finds lovable, nor that he doesn't found her lact of tact or her selfishness irritating. He said it himself, there is no reason for him to love Sakura.

The listed reasons for Sakura to love Sasuke are pointless because they are reasons why op would like Sasuke over Naruto. These things are never shown to be the reasons Sakura likes Sasuke. Kishi said if he showed a reason for Sakura to like Sasuke, it would look contrived. Again, use evidence, not headcanons. And Kishimoto showed Sakura to be a hypocrite when it comes to the "pervertness" since she wanted to watch Sasuke pee while hitting Naruto on the head for trying to pee in front of her. She also liked Konohamaru's sexy jutsu when it was something she liked, once again showing her as hypocrite. Kishi also said she has a habit of stalking Sasuke so...

I lost interest when she used a bunch of filler to defend Sakura lol. Use canon or I'm not interested. I have a post that shows one filler that stole narusasu dynamic to use for narusaku. "Sasuke's courage and boldness inspired Sakura!" and then in Forest of Death she stood around screaming and did nothing. What Kishi does with Sakura is give her little something, and makes her go three big steps back. You can't say Sasuke influenced Sakura when she constantly went back in her progress. Sakura getting mad once or twice when the rest of the time she wilts like a dying flower (in canon, as I said fillers don't matter) doesn't change the fact she's pathetic. She also begged him to take her on his journey of atonement he wanted to take alone just for romantic purposes (when he had shown nothing but disinterest and rejection towards her) shows she has no respect for him. I did laugh when she compared Sakura vs Gaara (if you can call it that) to Hinata vs Pain because true, both were equally pathetic, though I'd say Hinata was far worse since she literally made the situation worse for Naruto. Sakura standing around uselessly with a kunai is a meme in the fandom for a reason. I'm also not impressed by her asking Tsunade to train her, since like I pointed out Sakura knows nothing of Sasuke, they don't have a deep bond, she's just addicted to him like Kishi said. She didn't have the resolve to train but expected Naruto to get Sasuke back for her, even after treating him like an inferior. Only when she realized he couldn't did she even bother to make an effort. She was too busy expecting the three men in her team to save her damsel ass. Lol. She did NO training even when she didn't make it to the chuunin finals. She actually did ZERO training in part 1 unless she was told to.

"The series says Sakura suffered many broken bones under---" filler, didn't happen. Sure, she did things because she was thirsty for Sasuke, like seek information about him or trained under Tsunade, but that doesn't change the fact she does display meek behaviour around him she does not around anyone else. And that does not change the fact she knows nothing substantial about him, considering she keeps saying the worst things in her "love" confessions, and keeps trying to act pathetic to get his attention.

And Sasuke didn't only care for Naruto because Naruto was needed to end the tsukiyomi. This is shown multiple times. And Naruto realizes it too.

イタチ 亡き今 やっ とオレは 一人になったように思えた…だがナルト…あいつ だけは斬っておかなければならない.

Itachi naki ima yatto ore wa hitori ni natta youni omoeta…Daga Naruto… Aitsu dake wa kitte o kanakereba naranai.

Now that Itachi is dead, I thought that I became completely alone… But Naruto… I must only kill (literally cut) him.

He believes that as long as Naruto is alive, he can never be alone and he can never accomplish his goal to become the darkness that he hopes to be. Naruto is the only bond left for him, and killing him is the only way for him to become alone in the dark. This is clear as a day. So for this SS shipper to completely ignore this and insist Sasuke is only saving Naruto because he needs him is completely false.

Sasuke is many times said he needs to "cut" Naruto himself. To be completely alone. Him cutting Naruto from the team 7 picture, Naruto's speech to Sasuke about body moving its own (Kishi's way of giving closure to this pivotal moment between them), Sasuke instinctively putting his hand before Naruto despite Susanoo already protecting him (which Naruto again took notice of), Sasuke telling Obito HE will cut Naruto, Sasuke motivating Naruto with only two lines... list goes on. Where does Sakura factor in this? Because she is not that important. Because as Naruto said, he is Sasuke's only one. SS shippers have no understanding of authorial intent or narrative or subtext. Sakura herself knows Naruto's importance to Sasuke, that's why in her pathetic confession she whines how she "can't get close to Sasuke" and "can't exchange blows with him" things that Naruto does. Sasuke himself noted in a chapter AFTER Sakura's confession that Naruto kept coming closer to his heart. It's Kishi's way of mocking SS and underlining NS. This is not rocket science.

Using @narutouzumakiarchive images for convinience.

And what's more, the reason why I'm against SS the most is not because Sakura is pathetic around Sasuke (although that certainly helps) but because Sasuke is not in love with Sakura. Sakura has no qualities Sasuke admires or finds lovable. Sakura doesn't respect him nor does she appreciate the things he does (family for example).

You can also check narutouzumakiarchive's posts debunking common SS arguments, it includes many that she also used.

[5eraphim]

i cry!!! this has been a freaking WEEK of stress and this did have me chuckling and goody smilin im not gnna lie 🥹

[amelikos]

That scene in the new ep when Amethio's reaction was highlighted when Liko said she wouldn't give up.

[bunnyclawzz]

More loser!Mark because I looveee losers

“I need a boyfriend, Mark” you sighed out the words as you scribbled in your notebook. He’s been hearing these complaints for months now. Always when you were at his house finishing homework you would randomly bring it up, it nearly hurt with how badly he wanted to volunteer for the position.

“You should probably get one then” he mumbled as he looked down to his own papers. He hated this. Hated hearing how you wanted a relationship when he is right there!! He could treat you so good! But no, he just has to be soo scared of asking you out. “I mean,” he began as he looked beside him to you “how hard could it be? Look at you..y-you’re extroverted, I mean.”

“That’s not how it works, Mark! I need a connection with the guy!” you whined out as you shut your notebook. “Like in 27 Dresses! …Or 10 Things I Hate About You-Kate and Leopold!” All reference he only understood from agreeing to watch movies you picked at sleepovers. “..that’s all fiction…I think you should just wait till you find the right person, they’ll come to you” he knew it was an excuse. Always tried to put off her getting a relationship so he could build up the courage to ask her out. It’s pathetic, he, the hero Invincible, is too scared to ask his crush out.

It’s so pathetic! The way he stares at you with heart eyes as he walks you back to your house at the end of the night. A 20 second walk, sure, but what kind of friend would let you walk home by yourself! It’s for your safety, he swears! Always hugs you and wishes you a goodnight before letting you inside. It’s ritual, you don’t even think about it anymore, you just sort of automatically spin around to hug him now, surprisingly enough to him, you’ve never felt the hard-on he has most nights after dropping you off.

Everything about you just pulls him in deeper and deeper…you’re just so perfect. Always so bubbly and optimistic, helping him change his bandages and cleaning his wounds because of course you’re one of the very few who know about his identity. You make sure nobody picks on him, you’ve never once been bad to him behind his back. Just sweet enough to give anyone you talk to a cavity. So perfect, and he will get you one day, he’s determined to gain the confidence

..until then, he’s stuck sniffing and cuddling the pillowcase that your scent had latched to while whining to himself about how much he wishes it was you in he got to hold

[vamplvs]

THEIR FAVORITE WAYS OF GETTING YOU OFF

INCLUDES -> yelena belova, bob reynolds, bucky barnes WARNINGS -> afab and gn!reader (no gendered pet-names); fingering, cunnilingus, piv sex; light teasing (yelena), ‘baby’ (bob), ‘sweetheart’ and 'pretty' (bucky), light choking (bucky) NOTES -> first nsfw hc (more like blurbs bc i have a rambling problem) written here pls be nice <3 as always, comments and rbs are greatly appreciated (if you say smth nice, i'll give you a lil smooch on the cheek), and my asks are open!

YELENA BELOVA. — fingering. she likes teasing you, toying with you, until you fall apart, clenching around her fingers.

you lay against yelena as the movie plays on in front of you. her hands shamelessly explore your thighs, tracing shapes across them. the touch is light, yet it still spreads warmth through you. she takes little time at all to dip her fingers underneath your shirt, and then lower to the lower to the waistband of your shorts.

"lena," you mutter, "what are you-"

"shh, watch the movie," she replies, voice low and heady. when you turn to look at her, her eyes are focused on the film but they glint with mischief and want.

her hands keep moving over your skin, tracing arbitrary patterns on your lower stomach. sometimes they even deign to dip just below your shorts but never quite past that—never where you want her.

the movie plays on quietly in front of you, but with yelena's hands determined to distract you, the plot ambles along without your care. one of her hands has drifted down to your thigh, a light caress followed by a squeeze.

"yelena," you warn, a mocking sweetness lacing the rough parts of your tone.

"trust me, love," she mumbles against the skin of your neck. and, god, if that pet-name doesn't stir something up in you.

she keeps at it for god knows how long, her fingers tantalizingly close but oh, so far. until its your hands that are the ones reaching for her, that is.

you have one wrapped around the wrist that hovers by your thigh and the other in her hair.

"lena, if you don't-"

she shuts you up with a quick snap of your waistband. the gasp that leaves you is quiet, and you can feel her grin against your shoulder. finally, finally, she moves her hand lower.

her touch is light, barely a ghost over your clit, instead working lower. she draws a slow finger through your folds—and if they're already slick, who can blame you, really? it's one slow finger pushing inside you, and then another shortly after. they pump slowly, methodically, curving just so, and your head is falling back against yelena's shoulder before you realize it.

all the while, yelena stares forward at the movie, apparently captivated. her fingers never change pace, like their sole goal is to torment you and you alone. it's a slow drag in and out until you're just about ready to beg yelena for anything. your thighs twitch with every move of her other hand, and honestly, it isn't a fair battle.

she coaxes small gasps and shudders from you, and she relishes in each one. so, by the time she grinds the palm of her hand against your clit, a high keen is practically punched from you. it's nothing but blazing heat curling low in your stomach and whispers of your name against your ear.

"that's it," her breath is hot against your already warm skin, "let me hear you."

BOB REYNOLDS. — eating you out. he loves tasting you, he loves watching you, and he loves knowing that every reaction was all because of him.

bob presses soft kisses to your jaw, slow and tender, while you try to find the courage to get out of bed. his hands are warm against you, his lips oh-so soft, his thigh thick between yours, and yet-

"baby, i need to get to training."

"just a little longer. please?" he mutters against your neck, words rumbling against your skin. and who are you to deny him when his hand slides under your shirt to grab at your waist?

the kisses move from your jaw to your neck to your collarbone, and you melt under his attention. he explores slowly, taking his time on each part of your skin before moving to the next. bob takes in every gasp or twitch and makes a mental note of it with every intention of returning to the places that make you shiver.

he finally finds his way down your torso, a delicate kiss pressed above your sleep shorts.

“can i?” he asks, fingers dancing by the waistband. with the way he looks up at you, eyes nearly desperate and so filled with want, it’s all you can do not to pull him back up and kiss him breathless. so you just nod.

in an instant, he has them off of you, and bob is a man hypnotized when he runs his hands over your thighs. he stares for a beat, then two, before pressing a gentle kiss right above your clit. the gasp that elicits makes him grin.

his tongue explores, taking its time just so he can watch you squirm. your eyes flutter and threaten to shut, but with the way he looks up at you and catalogues every reaction, you can't take your eyes off him.

with little warning, his lips wrap around your clit, and it's only then that your eyes finally roll back.

"f-fuck!" you nearly shout, and bob only moans in reply, sending shocks through your body.

he has to drape an arm across your hips to hold you still for him when your back arches. his other hand stays firmly planted on your thigh, squeezing at it in time with every twitch and moan.

your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging and pulling in ways that make him go hot all over. but it's the sounds you make that get him. the gasps, the low curses, the moans of his name.

he could listen to you for hours, and if he had it his way, he'd stay just like this for days on end.

"taste so good, baby," he mumbles against you, voice a low rumble in the back of his throat.

BUCKY BARNES. — fucking you, more specifically doggy style. he is obsessed with seeing the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, and of course, having his hands tight on your hips.

“looked so good today, sweetheart,” bucky mutters against your neck. his chest is flush against your back, arms wrapped warmly around your torso. in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, you see the way the metal plates of his arm shift and flex silently.

"had to look my best to meet your work friends," a cheeky smile graces your lips as bucky rolls his eyes. you have long since abandoned what you wore earlier for the dinner, opting instead for sweatpants and one of bucky's t-shirts.

"you got any idea what that outfit does to me?" his voice is low, gravely, when he says it, and that sends a shiver up your spine. bucky moves his hands to your hips, squeezing lightly.

"i could hazard a few guesses," you turn, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. the look in his eyes is dark and hot and wanting. bucky's lips are on yours before you even have the chance to linger on the way his eyes flit down to them for the barest of seconds.

his hands drift to your ass and pick you up, wasting no time in getting you back to the bedroom and putting you down gently on the edge of the bed.

"turn over, wanna make you feel good," he mumbles between kisses.

and so you find yourself on your knees and elbows, sweatpants long gone so bucky can open you up for him. his fingers are thick inside you. when you turn your head to look at him, his mouth is parted in a soft 'o' and his eyebrows are furrowed, like he can't get enough of what he sees.

"fuck me, bucky," you groan as his fingers press inside you incessantly. and then they're gone.

you hear the sound of his jeans fall to the ground, and before you can get another word out, bucky is pressed against you. one hand is on your hips, and the other glides down your back as his cock stretches you out.

"so pretty for me," he mutters, more to himself than to you. his pace is slow, just a roll of his hips that leaves you already gasping for air. he basks in every moan, in the way your hands grab at the bedsheets above your head, in the way you squeeze around him like a vice when he showers you in soft praises.

somewhere between his thrusts and praises, his hand finds its way to the back of your neck. the sound you make when he puts even the slightest bit of pressure has him seeing stars and his hips stuttering.

"feel so good, sweetheart, god," he groans, tightening his hold on your hip—still keeping a loose but steady pressure on your neck. you're certain that you'll wake up with red marks on your skin in the morning. "so good for me."

[st4rpiece]

sleeping separately after an argument pt. 1

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, and sanji x fem! reader summary: how the strawhat boys would react to you sleeping alone after an argument CW: mainly fluff, slight angst others: not proofread, lowercase intended, and pictures found on pinterest

—————

Monkey D. Luffy

luffy doesn't handle conflict well, especially not one with someone he cares deeply about. after the argument you guys had earlier, he would never suspected that you would sleep else where for the night.

at first, he would brush it off, thinking you just needed some space and that you would return to your shared room soon. but, as the night wore on, he'd find himself restless. constantly tossing and turning unable to lay as comfortably as before now that he was alone. luffy would eventually get up and wander over to your old room.

knowing him he’d poke your face (gently of course) while whispering, "hey, are you still mad at me?" his big eyes would reflect genuine concern and confusion. but because you were asleep you couldn’t respond, so he would get into your bed and curl up next to you, determined to be close even if you were still upset. you’d wake up the next day to a goofy grin and a sincere apology, as he was eager to make things right.

Roronoa Zoro

arguments with zoro are often intense but short-lived. so when you decide to sleep separately after a fight, zoro (like luffy) would be taken aback. however he, unlike luffy, would initially be too proud to go after you. so instead he’d brood silently, replaying the argument in his head while sharpening his swords.

you were the dramatic one. right?

as the night deepened, his stoic façade would crack, causing the gnawing sense of regret to seep in. he’d eventually get up, quietly making his way to your old room.

“babe?” his voice was uncharacteristically soft cautiously enters the room. after seeing your sleeping figure his demeanor immediately softens.

without a word, he'd lie down on the floor next to your bed, his presence a silent apology. he would wake up before you like usual but after breakfast he would pull you aside giving you a gruff but sincere apology, his actions speaking louder than his words.

God Ussop

usopp is sensitive and prone to overthinking. after any argument, he'd probably be filled with anxiety and self-doubt. which would worsen after you decide to sleep separately. he'd pace around, muttering to himself and crafting elaborate scenarios in his head of what this could mean.

is this it?

do you not love him anymore?

were you going to break up with him?

eventually, he'd muster the courage to approach you, armed with a heartfelt speech. ready to kneel beside you and pour his heart out with the promise to do better. but after walking to your old room and seeing you sleep so soundly his resolve would soften. not wanting to wake you he would leave telling himself that he’d apologize in the morning.

instead of going to bed though he would go to his factory deciding to make you a small gift to show his sincerity. he would place that along with a short an apology letter by your door. hoping to give you a better apology in the morning.

Vinsmoke Sanji

sanji would be devastated if you chose to sleep separately after an argument. unlike usopp, he wouldn’t overthink it. he knows you love him just needed some space. despite thinking that, he would never let you go to sleep upset especially not at him.

so he'd spend the majority of the night in the kitchen, preparing ingredients for tomorrow and making you a midnight snack.

with a tray of food on hand he’d softly knocks on the door of your old bedroom, his voice both gentle and cautious. “my love? i brought food. can i come in so we can talk?”

your lights were on so he knew you were up, after waiting for a minute or so he would let out a relieved sigh as you opened the door and making room for him to enter.

you guys would spend the rest of the night talking about your argument except this time with a much clearer head. once he knew that you both were on the same page he would bring you back to your share room to sleep.

—————

hi guys! thanks for reading, this is my first attempt at writing hc so idk if i did it right lol but it was fun!! i also have a couple more characters in my draft using this idea. i’ll post them if this does well (fingers crossed).

part 2 is posted!!

[mooomuzan]

first kiss |. bllk men

your first kiss with kaiser is as dramatic and unpredictable as he is. he doesn’t plan it—he just acts on impulse. it happens after one of his games, when he’s still riding the high of a win, grinning like he owns the world. you’re teasing him, saying something about how he’d better not let it go to his head, and he suddenly leans in, cutting you off mid-sentence. the kiss is bold and confident, leaving no room for doubt about how he feels. when he pulls back, his signature smirk is firmly in place. “what can i say? i always score,” he quips, completely unashamed, but the slight pink on his ears betrays just how much that moment meant to him.

your first kiss with aiku is as smooth and teasing as he is, happening when you least expect it. it’s after a playful argument, the two of you bantering back and forth as he leans casually against the wall, a mischievous smirk on his lips. he tilts his head, watching you with that infuriatingly confident gaze, and just as you’re about to fire back a retort, he leans in and kisses you. it’s slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about how he feels. when he pulls away, he chuckles softly at your stunned expression, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i told you i’d shut you up one day,” he says, his voice low and teasing, though the warmth in his eyes gives away just how much the moment meant to him.

your first kiss with rin comes only after months of quiet, unspoken moments that slowly build into something deeper. rin doesn’t rush things—he doesn’t know how to. it’s late one evening, the kind of night where the world feels still, and you’re sitting side by side, closer than usual. the silence between you is thick with unspoken feelings, and rin’s eyes flicker between yours and your lips, his nerves barely hidden. he doesn’t say a word; he just leans in, his breath trembling against your skin, his lips brushing yours so gently it feels like a question. the kiss is soft and tentative, almost unsure, but there’s a quiet desperation behind it, like he’s pouring all the emotions he can’t say into that single moment. when he pulls back, his face is flushed, and he mutters, “don’t make this a big deal,” but the way his fingers linger against yours says he’s already thinking about the next time.

your first kiss with nagi happens in the quiet comfort of his room, months into your relationship, when the lines between lazy companionship and something deeper have blurred completely. it’s unexpected—he tilts his head lazily toward you during one of his long silences, his fingers absentmindedly playing with yours, and presses the softest, sleepiest kiss to your lips. when he pulls back, his cheeks are faintly pink, and he mumbles, “this is nice… let’s stay like this,” before resting his head against your shoulder, like kissing you was the easiest and most natural thing in the world.

your first kiss with reo is every bit as heartfelt and intentional as he is, happening after he’s spent weeks—maybe months—building up the courage. it’s late in the evening, after he’s walked you home, the soft glow of streetlights casting a warm hue around you. he stops at your doorstep, his usual confidence faltering as he lingers, his hand brushing against yours. with a gentle but determined look, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s tender but filled with the unmistakable passion he’s been holding back. when he pulls away, he’s grinning, his cheeks flushed, and he whispers, “i’ve been wanting to do that forever… it was worth the wait.”

your first kiss with isagi is sweet and unassuming, happening in a moment so ordinary it feels perfect. it’s after one of his matches, the adrenaline still buzzing in his veins as you walk beside him, laughing about something silly. he stops suddenly, his hand catching yours as he turns to face you, his eyes soft but determined. “i need to tell you something,” he says, his voice a little shaky, and before you can ask what, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s shy but full of emotion. when he pulls back, his cheeks are bright red, and he rubs the back of his neck, mumbling, “sorry, i couldn’t wait any longer.”

your first kiss with sae is deliberate, yet it still leaves you breathless. it happens one quiet evening, the two of you sitting side by side after his training. the air is crisp, his teal eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlights as he turns to you. “come here,” he says, his voice steady but low, and before you can respond, his hand brushes your cheek, guiding you closer. his lips meet yours, firm and confident, like he’s taking what he’s been waiting for. when he pulls back, his face lingers close, his breath warm against your skin. “you should’ve seen this coming,” he murmurs, a faint smirk playing on his lips, but there’s something soft in his eyes that makes your heart race.

[sturnioz]

‘THE LOVE HOTEL’ — MATT STURNIOLO

pairing. matt sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, strangers au.

word count. 6.7k

❝there's a place just around the corner from here, you seen it? the buildin' with the red neon lights?❞

content warnings. explicit content, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, stranger sex, creampies, oral (receiving & giving), matt the munch, hair pulling, light spanking, light dirty talk, 'baby' & 'sweetheart' for use of petnames.

He's been staring at you the entire night.

And honestly? You've been staring at him too.

The first time was when you walked into the bar to meet a friend. He was standing at the bar, ordering his drink of choice, his gaze sweeping over the overcrowded room before his eyes landed on you—just for a brief moment.

It was quick—subtle—before he turned back to the bartender and you turned to greet your friend.

The second time was on your way to the bathroom. A slight bump with someone passing by made you stumble, and as you turned to apologise, your line of sight caught him again. Over the shoulder of the stranger in front of you, there he was; sitting alone in the corner of the dimly lit room, a beer bottle hovering near his lips.

His eyes found yours, steady and deliberate, before you slipped around the corner.

The third—and what should have been the last—was on the dance floor. Your friend had drunkenly whisked you up from your seat with a sharp tug of your wrist, insisting you join her for a song you both loved; her arms draped loosely around your shoulders as she slurred the lyrics in your ear, and you obviously couldn't help but laugh and sing along. But even then, your attention wasn't entirely on her... it drifted to him.

He hadn't moved. Still in that same corner, his chin now resting on his palm, his eyes locked on you. Watching.

In any other situation, it might have unsettled you. You'd have thrown him the dirtiest glare you could muster until he looked away... but this was different.

He's attractive—extremely so—and you don't really want him to look away from you.

You like the way he watches you. You like his attention. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a little more confident.

As midnight creeps closer, you find yourself—no, needing—one of you to make the first move. The tension had been building all night, which is why you decide to stay behind when you friend announces that her boyfriend is on his way to pick her up.

She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out as slurred, drunken protests tumble from her lips when she says she wants to stay with you, to enjoy the rest of the night, but you know she's already reached her limit.

Gently, you insist that she goes home and gets some much needed rest as you guide her toward the passenger seat of her boyfriend's car, exchanging a few quiet words with him before stepping back, watching as the car disappears into the night.

Returning inside the bar, you slip back into your seat, the low hum of music and chatter surrounding you once more as your eyes flicker toward the stranger again.

You can't help it.

Over the rim of your wine glass, you sneak glances at him, using the drink as some sort of liquid courage... you are determined to make the first move.

But as your confidence builds, it begins to falter.

He isn't watching you anymore, his attention shifted to something else—his phone. His thumb moves idly, scrolling or typing something (you're not sure), while his other hand cradles a half-empty beer bottle.

Is... he getting ready to leave? Ordering a cab? Messaging someone waiting for him at home?

"Pretty boy usually stays until closing."

The sudden voice snaps you back to reality, and your head turns slowly toward the bartender, who's leaning on the counter with a knowing smirk. She slides an untouched beer bottle in your direction, and you open your mouth to speak, to tell her that you didn't order a beer, but she's quick to cut you off.

"It's on the house... it's his favourite."

A grin spreads across your lips as the realisation dawns on you—that the bartender is playing the role of the ultimate wingwoman of the night. You thank her gratefully, and she responds with a playful wink before turning to fix a drink for the next customer.

With a surge of newfound confidence, you pick up the beer bottle and your own drink, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you make your way toward the stranger's table with a determined stride.

"You look lonely," his gaze slowly lifts from his phone upon hearing your voice, dark and steady eyes meeting yours, and his eyebrows raise at your sudden arrival. "Mind if I join you?"

"Seat's all yours." he responds, and in an instant, the tone of his voice makes you fumble. It's so low, smooth, unhurried, and the confidence you had been clinging to feels like it's slipping away.

But somehow, much to your surprise, you stay calm—composed.

With perfect posture and an unwavering smile, you settle down into the seat across from him, trying not to falter even more beneath his intense gaze. His dark, curious eyes follow your every move, watching as you slide the beer bottle across the table until it stops right in front of him.

"For you."

"F'me?" he repeats, a soft hum escaping his lips as his hand reaches out to wrap around the neck of the bottle, the silver rings on his fingers tap lightly against the glass as he turns it, inspecting the label. His eyebrows lift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "How did y'know I like this?"

"I have my ways," you reply with a playful tone before you decide to come clean. "Actually, the bartender picked it out... said it's your favourite?"

"Yeah... it is," he says with a nod as a soft smile tugs at his lips—a smile so fucking genuine and effortless it makes your chest tighten. He looks even better up close, and you feel a little giddy, unable to tear your eyes away from what might just be the prettiest sight you've even seen.

It's embarrassing, the effect he has on you already.

"Thank you," he says, his voice warm and sincere. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he adds, "I'll buy the next round?"

Realistically, you should tell him the truth—that the beer was actually given to you for free, no money spent on your part. But the thought of him buying you your next drink feels like an open invitation to spend more time with him, and there's no fucking way you're about to pass that up.

Not when the opportunity has been handed to you so easily.

So, you smile. You nod. And you take a sip of your wine to hide the excitement threatening to reveal itself on your face, though you're not entirely sure you're doing a good job of it.

With the way your cheeks ache from smiling and the way your eyes light up? It's more than likely written all over your face.

Conversation flows surprisingly naturally between the two of you. You learn his name is Matt, which, you think, suits his face perfectly. When you tell him your name, he repeats it softly, almost like a whisper, and it takes everything in you not to lean across the table and claim his lips right then and there.

He's employed, though he doesn't tell you what his profession is. Maybe that should raise a red flag, but you prefer to think he keeps his work life private, separating that from his personal life. He's also twenty-one, single, and, to your surprise, the second oldest in a set of triplets.

The way Matt speaks leaves you captivated; he explains things with so much care and adoration, appreciating even the smallest things that makes your chest fill with warmth.

But then he rolls up his sleeves mid-conversation, and suddenly, it's very fucking hard to focus on anything else.

Your eyes zero in on his forearms—on the tattoos inked into his skin, the veins that trace their way up, and the muscles that flex ever so slightly when he crosses them over his chest to lean back into his chair.

You're so distracted, practically drooling at the mouth, and you barely register that he's said something until his question pulls you back to reality.

"You good over there?" he asks, his head tilting to the side, and the glint in his eyes is almost enough to make you combust. "You've gone all uh, quiet on me."

"Sorry," you blurt out, scrambling for an excuse with an awkward laugh. "I think the wine's getting to me."

"Right." he hums, his lips curling up into a seemingly knowing smile as he reaches for his beer. Thankfully, he chooses not to press further, taking a sip instead.

But just as the bottle grazes his lips, his phone buzzes against the table and he pauses, lowering the drink slightly to glance at the screen. Another vibrations follows. Then another, and another, and another. You catch the slight tensing of his jaw, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face as he sighs and sets the bottle down.

With a quick swipe, he unlocks his phone to view the full set of messages that are flooding in rapidly.

Your lips press together, watching him carefully. You're not upset about him being on his phone—he's already given you his full attention for the most of the night. But there's something about the constant notifications that leaves you feeling concerned.

Still, you offer him a soft smile. "Need to leave?"

"No, no, s'just uh... brother stuff, s'all," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, his tone casual but vague. He doesn't elaborate further, and you decide not to push.

Instead, you nod in understanding and take a slow sip from your wine glass, letting the moment settle.

When he looks back up from his phone, his gaze lands on you, lingering just a little too long. His eyes soften, and the corner of his mouth twitches subtly.

"I don't mind leavin', though," he says, his tone low. "If you're up for it."

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're frozen. You try to mask your surprise at his sudden forwardness, though you shouldn't be shocked—this is exactly what you've wanted all along, isn't it?

Your heart skips a beat, trying to keep composed as your pulse quickens. "Oh? Where would you like to go?"

"There's a place just around the corner from here, you seen it? The buildin' with the red neon lights?"

You have, but it doesn't hurt to play dumb every now and then. "No, I haven't. What is it?"

The corner of his lips twitch upward, "It's a hotel. The kind for uh, two—or more—people wantin' privacy... couples, strangers, whatever. You can stay the night normally, but uh... s'commonly used as a love hotel."

"A love hotel?" you repeat, the words rolling off your tongue as excitement and arousal builds within you at the thought of spending the night with him. You want it—god, you want it so fucking bad—but teasing him feels too tempting to resist. "And what makes you think I'd want to spend a night with you in a love hotel?"

"I don't," Matt says with a casual shrug, his smile never wavering from his face. "It's up to you. You can say no, 'n we'll forget all about it. I'll pay for the rest of our drinks. If you want to leave, I'll even cover your cab to make sure you get home safe."

"And if I say yes?"

He tilts his head, his eyes sweeping across your face with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Think y'know what happens if you say yes."

This time, you can't hide your grin, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you hum. "Was this your plan from the start? To get me to the hotel?"

"No," Matt replies, shaking his head. His voices dips lower as he leans across the table. "Truthfully? I would've fucked you here in the bathroom if you were up for it, but..." he trails off, his tongue pressing into his cheek as the heat pools low in your tummy from his words alone. "You deserve somethin' better than that, don't you think?"

Matt's arm rests loosely around your shoulder, his hand intertwined with yours as he leads you toward the entrance of the Love Hotel. His thumb occasionally brushes against your knuckles, sending tiny sparks of warmth through you with each subtle squeeze.

The neon red lighting grows brighter as you approach, almost too harsh to handle up close. You duck your head slightly, shielding your eyes from the glare, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the building; the architecture leaving you gaping in awe.

The lighting inside is softer, still tinted with those sultry red hues, but far more bearable. The walls are lined with vines—fake, most likely, though they're convincing enough—with roses scattered along their stems. Paper hearts in every shade of pink dangle from the ceiling and lie across the floor, catching the faint glow of the lights.

You glance around, searching for a traditional reception desk, but there's none in sight which throws you off guard for a moment, but Matt moves with purpose, guiding you toward a sleek digital touchscreen at the end of the hallway.

"This is how you check in?" you ask, watching as he taps a few icons.

"Mhm," he hums casually, his fingers gliding across the screen like he's done this before. A list of room options pop up, each with a small preview image. "D'you want a room that comes with alcohol or snacks or somethin'?"

"I'm fine... unless you want anything?"

Matt shakes his head, giving your hand another squeeze before selecting one of the rooms. You watch as the touchscreen displays a loading animation of heart-shaped bubbles, the screen glowing softly before the price appears.

Not that it matters—he moves too quickly for you to even process the number, tapping his card against the machine with ease, and a final bubble pops up on the screen with the word SUCCESSFUL! in bold, cheerful letters.

Without missing a beat, he leads you down another hallway lined with a series of doors, some glow with VACANT signs, while others are marked with PREOCCUPIED.

"S'all soundproof," Matt tells you, noticing the way your eyes linger on one of the PREOCCUPIED signs. "That's why you can't hear anythin'... it's privacy for the guests."

His explanation makes total tense, but there's something about the mysterious silence that leaves you feeling a little odd. Still, the question that's been lingering on the tip of your tongue since you arrived finally escapes.

"Have you been here before?" you ask, peering at him curiously.

"No, no," he answers you honestly with a quick shake of his head. "But uh, someone I know has been here a few times... s'why I know so much about it."

"Right," you hum teasingly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm guessing they told you everything to prepare you for when you decide to bring someone?"

Matt grins and reaches out to grip the handle on the door, "Nah, more like havin' been forced to listen during breakfast," he pauses for a moment, smirks, then continues, "Good thing I listened, yeah?"

When he swings open the door open, his hand finds the small of your back, guiding you inside with a gentle pressure. The rooms décor doesn't surprise you; in fact, you pretty much expected the ongoing colour scheme of pinks and reds. Still, it's impossible not to snort quietly at the singular white couch tucked in the corner, its attempt to blend in with the addition of a few red pillows being somewhat successful.

Kicking off your shoes at the entrance, you take a few steps into the room, your curiosity drawing you toward the bedside table. There, you find a heart-shaped ceramic bowl filled to the brim with condoms in various sizes and flavours.

The sight makes your lips twitch into a grin—practical, if not amusing—and you can't help but shake your head slightly at the boldness of it all.

When you turn back to Matt, he's engrossed in the digital touchscreen display mounted on the wall. His back is to you as he fiddles with the light settings, and you bite your lip, suppressing a laugh when he accidentally turns the lights off completely. A moment later, they're at full brightness, blinding harsh, before he finally adjusts them to a warm, dim glow.

Caught peeking over his shoulder, he glances back at you with a sheepish smile before bringing his attention to the music selection, scrolling through the options.

There's something so endearing about how seriously he's taking everything, like he wants everything to be just right for you. It makes your chest tighten in the best way.

It's amusing, really. You both know why you're here, but instead of rushing and getting down to business, he's taking his time.

"Alright," he exhales finally, settling on a sensual track with the right tempo and volume. He turns slightly toward you, his lips parting to speak. "So, do you—"

But you don't wait for him to finish.

Closing the distance, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as your lips press against his. His lips are soft and warm, and for a brief second, Matt stills, his eyes widening slightly before a low, breathing laugh escapes against your mouth.

It only takes a moment for him to recover, his arms winding around your waist as his hands press firmly against your lower back, drawing you flush against him. The kiss deepens, and you feel the tension melt away from both of you as you lose yourself in the moment.

The taste of beer lingers faintly on his lips, mingling with the scent of his aftershave. His thumb grazes slow, mindless patterns against your lower back, a small gesture that sends shivers down your spine, and his tongue slips into your mouth when your lips part for him.

You don't register the movement at first as Matt walks you backward, blindly leading you without breaking the kiss. Your foot catches awkwardly on itself, and you let out a muffled noise, stumbling slightly.

Matt pulls back just enough to chuckle softly against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours. "Careful.."

You refuse to let the embarrassment ruin the moment, and you reclaim his lips, this time hooking your fingers into the collar of his skirt to keep him close. You gently suck on his bottom lip, feeling the quiet groan that rumbles in his chest as his grip tightens on you, kissing you harder, his lips hungry and unrelenting.

He stops leading you backward just as the back of your legs bump the edge of the bed, and his hands move to unfasten the button of your pants, exhaling into the kiss as your own hands come down to unbuckle the belt on his jeans.

Breaking the kiss, you both rid each other quickly of your clothes, leaving you both in just your underwear—you mentally give yourself the biggest part on the back for wearing a matching set, feeling confident and sexy with the way Matt's staring you down.

Then, he smiles—that smile you find so fucking pretty. He bends his knees slightly, wrapping his arms around your lower back to lift you up from the floor, pressing his face between your breasts, feeling his warm breath fan across your skin.

It tickles, and you can't help but giggle softly, securing your legs around his waist to ensure you don't fall—even though he has a firm grip on you.

Your fingers thread through his hair as he kisses and licks at your chest, sucking at the skin as he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, settling you in his lap as his hands move to grab your ass, his palm coming down once hard on your cheek and you whine at the sting, tugging at the roots of his hair.

"Touch me," you plead him, arching away from his lips to get a good look at him, the adrenaline pumping through your veins at his dishevelled appearance; his lips are swollen, his eyes dark and hazy, and his hair is a complete mess while his cheeks are rosy. "Please... want you to touch me."

"Yeah?" he whispers, his eyebrow raising. "How bad?"

You huff at that, refusing to answer his teasing as you kiss him again, tilting your head to the side with your hands cupping his cheeks. He grins against your lips, and he slides his hand between your bodies, pressing two fingers to your clit over your underwear and you hiss at the sudden contact, tightening your grip on him.

"You wanted me t'touch you," you hear him mutter as he pulls away from your lips, not before giving you one chaste smooch. "M'just doin' exactly what you asked."

"You know that's not what I meant," You send a playful glare his way before you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Matt's lips downturn into a frown and looks utterly confused as you slide off of him, and he opens his mouth to apologise for his previous teasing before he stops. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in amusement as he watches you settle down on your knees in front of him.

You're pulling a little impatiently at his boxers to get them off, and Matt even raises his hips to help you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as you slide the material down his legs and throw them somewhere behind you, not caring where it lands as you wrap your hand around his cock.

Matt inhales sharply, and he leans back on his palms to watch you play with his cock—squeezing at the base and pressing your thumb down on his slit, causing him to let out a breathy laugh as he tilts his head back.

The effect you have on him already builds your arousal, and your pussy throbs, feeling your underwear stick uncomfortably to your folds. You ignore it for the time being, focussing your attention on Matt as you loll out your tongue, teasing the tip with a few kitten licks.

Matt's stomach sinks in with a gasp before his muscles tense, hissing through his teeth. "Fuuck.."

You take his cock further into the warmth of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you suck him hard, using your tongue to tease beneath the mushroom tip. Matt's chest vibrates with a groan as he reaches out, placing his hand on the back of your head, and you gaze up at him, struggling to smile with your mouth full.

"Takin' me so well, sweetheart.." he praises, his eyes refusing to look away from his cock that disappears deeper down your throat, enthralled with the way you're bobbing your head and swallowing him around him. "Good girl... can... can I fuck that pretty throat?"

You immediately nod your head, gargling in response. But that doesn't seem to work with him.

"No. Tell me I can... use your words."

His cock falls from your lips with a lewd, wet pop. "You can fuck my throat."

"Thank you," you're surprised at his whispers gratitude, although it doesn't last long when he's already easing his cock back into your mouth, and the tears bubble in your eyes as his tip hits the back of your throat, a guttural groan leaving his lips.

He's thrusting his hips faster, and you let your jaw hang loose, doing your very best to use your tongue and suckle him whenever your nose brushes against his navel.

Your throat feels so raw already, on the verge of coughing and gagging—you're not sure. But the sheer size of his cock is enough to have you gargling every time he slips further down your throat, and Matt seems to enjoy your struggles as he grins down at you, affectionately smoothing that back of your head before resuming his grip.

"M'gonna cum," Matt warns you quietly. "Gonna cum in your mouth, yeah? Can you swallow it f'me? Please?"

Who the fuck are you to say no to that?

You take the initiative this time, moving your head up and down, and using your hands to fondle his heavy balls, massaging them between your fingers. It tips him over the edge, and with one deep thrust, you feel his cock twitch on your tongue before spurts of cum shoot down the back of your throat, causing you to moan and swallow every last drop he gives you.

Matt's hand tightens on your hair to pull your off his cock, and he tilts your head back with a tug that makes you wince, but you welcome the burn on your scalp.

You're panting heavily, trying to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling steadily through your nose to let the oxygen seep back into your lungs while he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of your forehead, wiping the drool and cum off your lips with his thumb.

"Good girl," he praises you again, using his other hand to delicately wipe at the tears that roll down your cheeks from the strain. "You did so well f'me... want me to get you some water?"

"No," you shake your head, your voice hoarse. "I just want to feel you—need to feel you. Now."

"Not yet," he tells you, and you're positive you're about to start crying, so utterly desperate to feel his cock and satisfy that dull ache between your thighs.

He gently grabs your elbow to pull you up from your kneeling position on the floor, keeping you stood between his legs as his nimble fingers reach around to unhook your bra before dipping to the waistband on your lacy panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while keeping his gaze on you.

You find yourself asking, "Why'd you love to tease so much?"

Matt shrugs his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your tummy as he answers. "Turns me on," His hands grope the flesh of your thighs, massaging the skin as he hums. "Think you can stand up for a little longer?"

You're confused now, and your brows pinch together as you look down at him. "What do you mean?"

"Kinda wanna eat you out like this," he murmurs softly, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he pulls you closer to his face, and his hand tightens his grip on your thigh. "Want your leg over my shoulder. You can grab my hair to hold yourself up, if you want... but I promise, m'not gonna let you fall."

Despite still being confused, you're also extremely curious about the position which is the sole reason you're agreeing, and you let out a noise of surprise when he suddenly hooks your thigh over his shoulder, resting his palms on your ass to stabilise you.

You feel the strain on the back of your leg that's on the ground, almost perched up on your tiptoes at an unusual angle. But all your worries and concerns disperse when you feel his tongue slowly lick between your folds, flicking over your clit which makes you gasp loudly.

Your body curls in on him, and your hands thread through his hair as his mouth attaches to your pussy completely, squeezing your ass as he sucks on your clit. The pleasure courses through your veins like lava, and a shrill buzzes up your spine as uncontrollable moans fall from your lips, unable to stop the volume.

He's grunting against you as you rut against his face, and he's mumbling incoherent words about how good you taste as his tongue dips inside your cunt. You let out broken mewls, your fingers curling in his hair and your legs begin to tremble, causing you to become slightly fearful that you'll slip.

Matt seems to understand your concern, and suddenly, he's pulling away to unhook your leg off his shoulder and throws you onto the bed. He's already crawling between your thighs and attaching his mouth back to your soppy pussy before you can even beg for him to return to you.

He dives in deep with his tongue, the wet muscle pushing into your quivering hole as he yanks both of your legs over his shoulders to push his face closer to your cunt, and you happily oblige by wrapping your legs around his head, keeping him locked between your thighs as your back bows.

His nose nudges against your clit, making your toes curl at the stimulation and for your eyes to roll to the back of your head, losing yourself in the pleasurable haze and the sound of his own muffled moans as he laps at you like a starved animal, his hands glued to your hips to keep you still.

As if you're going to move away.

You're enjoying this way too much, and you internally thank whoever for giving him the talent to eat pussy as amazingly good as he does. You could almost fucking cry tears of absolute joy.

It's when you feel his lips circle around your clit again that forcefully rips you out of your own head and you curse loudly, your mouth falling agape and eyebrows pinching together as you tug harder at his hair, a smile threatening to slip across your face as you hear him moan once more.

The second you feel his hand move from your hip to join his mouth at your pussy, easing two fingers inside your cunt as he makes a mess of spit and drool on your clit, that's when you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, inching you closer and closer to your release.

"Maaattt..." you whine pitifully, "I'm... I'm gonna cum."

He nods in response to your claims, fucking you harder and faster with his fingers while suckling at your clit with so much vigour it has you wailing loudly, making you wonder if the soundproof walls are enough to even hide your sounds.

It's euphoric when you reach your high; a choked gasp rips from the back of your throat as your back bows again, hips rutting against his face as he continues his motions, feeling him smile as your orgasm wracks through your body.

You're overwhelmed. There's sweat beading at your hairline, and your vision is blurry and your mind is blank. You feel like you're choking, trying your hardest to catch your breath once again as your chest heaves rapidly.

You tug at his hair to get him to stop which he does reluctantly, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs as he carefully drops your legs from his shoulders, watching as they limply bounce on the bed.

"Fuck," Matt grunts as he pushes himself up onto his knees, bis chin is covered in spin and your juices. His fingers slowly slip out of your pussy and your jaw drops open with a sharp inhale, watching through hazy vision as he brings them to his mouth, sucking the digits clean.

You find yourself unable to talk, too focussed on trying to regulate your breathing and come back to earth, the silk sheets feeling uncomfortably sticky on your clammy skin.

Matt's looming over you now, caressing your cheek and blowing cool air on your face. "You good baby?"

"Perfect," you tell him.

"Good," he whispers softly, leaning down to press his lips to yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue as it dips into your mouth to glide with your own. He tilts his head to kiss you deeper as he lays between your legs, his bare chest flushed against yours as he pulls back to ask, "More?"

"Yeah, more," you nod immediately. "Please."

"You don't have to beg me," he murmurs as he pecks your lips before glancing down. "Think I might have to finger you again—"

"No," you shake your head this time. "Don't need that.. I need your cock."

Matt whispers your name quietly, seemingly hesitant. "But—"

"It's fine. I can take it," you assure him quickly, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to prevent him from moving, although you know he can easily move away if he wanted to. "I'm fine. I just—need it—need your cock. I need to feel you. I'll beg, I swear—"

"Hey, hey..." Matt cuts off your rambling, stroking your cheek in calming motions. "Told you, yeah? You don't have to beg me for anythin'. I'll give you what you want, okay? Just.. just promise me. Promise me you're fine."

"I promise."

"Okay, baby..."

You can feel his cock press against your thigh, and your body shivers at the contact, your grip loosening on him as he leans back on his knees to look down at your cunt. He grabs his cock with one hand, the other massaging your thighs as he moves his hips forward, dragging his cock through your puffy folds.

You tense a little when you feel the head of his cock rest against your entrance, and he lifts his head to meet your gaze, giving you one last silent ask and you nod your head in confirmation.

Your mouth falls agape as Matt pushes into you, stretching you out of his cock, and you feel the burn in your inner thighs and walls as your pussy struggles to take him, inch by inch.

He's not even halfway in yet, and you do begin to fear that maybe you can't take him fully.

"Shiiit," he begins to curse, sucking sharply through his teeth, his eyes locked in on your puffy folds that fit snug around his cock. "Suckin' me in so fuckin' tight—shit—need to relax f'me, okay? Can you do that? Relax a lil' f'me?"

"Too big," you whine out pathetically, tears bubbling across your lash line as your hands grip the bed sheets.

"I know, I know.." he coos softly as he leans back over your body, making him slip further inside of you which makes you whine. He litters sweet kisses across your cheeks and jawline, "Doin' sooo well f'me already though... relax 'n breathe. Deep breaths, sweetheart."

The simple pet name shouldn't make you feel the way it does, but your chest blooms with warmth at his caring tone, and you find yourself relaxing slowly, taking steady breaths as he pushes deeper inside, stretching you out completely as his hips press to yours.

Matt waits for a few moments longer, his lips still pressing kisses to your jawline as he gives you however long you need to adjust to the sheer size of his cock before he begins to thrust slowly, pulling back to leave the tip nestled in your opening before thrusting all the way back in.

Your hands slide up to his shoulder blades, your nails digging into his skin and creating red indents as he moans at the contact, panting heavily in the crevice of your neck and leaving wet kisses in his path as his hips find a suitable pace to fuck into you, your pebbled nipples brushing against his chest.

"Faster," you whisper to him, only to squeal in surprise when he actually starts to pound into your faster—and harder—the bed rocking with each powerful thrust.

His lips meet yours in a messy, heated kiss, panting into each others mouths as your fingers tangle in the hair on the nape of his neck. The tight grip he has on your hips is pleasant, and his cock hits so fucking deep that it makes your body shake as he ruts into you.

You're trying your best to keep up with the kiss—you really are—but the pleasure becomes too much, and you're stuck with your mouth open wide, uncontrollably moaning and on the verge of tears.

It makes you feel a little pathetic to be crying over someone's cock making you feel this good... but this someone's cock is definitely worth crying over.

Much to your delight, Matt is loud; deep moans and grunts leave his lips, and he curses through incoherent words that sound similar to praises, but you struggle to make out what he's saying—head too blank and the sound of skin slapping against skin is echoing too loudly in your ears.

The knot in your stomach slowly starts to tighten again and you mewl, your grip tightening in fear that the pace he's fucking you will slow down or come to an abrupt stop, despite it being completely obvious that he's not going to do any of those things.

"You close?" he hums, his eyes flicking to yours. "Feels like you're close, baby... gonna cum f'me? Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?"

His words make your head spin wildly, and you struggle to nod.

"Yeah?" he practically purrs those words to you, and that knot in your stomach starts to feel as though it's about to snap. "M'gonna cum f'you too. Fill this pussy up... is that okay? Want me to fill you up? Fuck you full of my cum?"

You nod your head once more in response.

"Say it," he growls, "Use your words."

"Fuck—please. Fill me up. Do whatever you want, just don't stop!"

He chuckles softly, "Cute."

You're not exactly sure what tips you over the edge. Was it his lips on your neck? The whispered praises in your ear? The pace of his hips that fuck his cock deep into you? Or his hand that slips between your bodies to rub circles on your clit?

It could be any—it could be all of the above.

Whatever it is, it has your pussy clamping tightly around his cock as your second orgasm of the night hits you hard. Your head flings back against the plush pillows, and your back arches as your body trembles.

Matt greedily fucks you through your high, his fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, leaving you a shaking and sensitive mess.

Then, he makes a noise, a noise that sends a tingle down your spine as he cums, fucking into you at a slow and steady pace as he empties himself inside your pussy. You're both panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat and bodies unbelievably sticky.

It's an uncomfortable feeling, but you make no effort to even care about it as your body lays limp on the bed, feeling as Matt slowly lifts himself off you, and your face twists as you feel his cock slide out of your cunt.

Your hips jerk when you feel his fingers gently brush over your messy folds, scooping his cum and carefully pushing it back inside as it leaks. You whine at the feeling, and you can hear him chuckle, murmuring a quiet apology before he stands from the bed.

You don't have the time to wonder where he's heading as he's already returning back with a wet towel in hand. He sits back down to pry your legs open to clean you up, and honestly, you're shocked.

This has never happened before with your previous hook-ups, so you did not expect it to happened to you today.

You're pleasantly surprised, so you allow him to continue. "You good?" he asks once he's finished cleaning you up, and his hand rubs your knee. You're too into his touch to notice he's asked you a question until he calls out your name.

You blink, "What?"

Matt smiles, "I asked if you're good."

"I'm more than good," you admit to him truthfully, watching as the smile on his face widens. You sit up, and he kindly holds your elbow to help you upright while his other hand pushes the hairs that stick to your sweaty face before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is super short and sweet, not lasting as long as you wish it did and it leaves you craving for more when he pulls away from you.

"So.." you clear your throat, your voice still a little horse. "What now?"

"What now?" Matt repeats as he hums in thought. "First... m'gonna get you some water to help your throat," he says as he slips off the bed to grab a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge. "Then, if you want, I can fuck you again."

Your brows raise at that, intrigued. "Really?"

"I uh, booked this room for the entire night," he tells you as he returns, holding out the water in your direction to take with a smile on his lips. "Why not make the most of it?"

© STURNIOZ

[thealchemistbae]

Fama Persona Chart: Rising Sign & Its' Degrees🤩

The Rising Sign in your Fama Persona Chart is SO important because it reveals the first impression of your fame energy. It's how the public perceives you, what kind of iconic image you radiate, and what draws people into your world of fame.

Disclaimer: This post is for entertainment purposes only.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at goddessguapa@gmail.com or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

SIGNS:

🎆: Aries Rising -> Fame hits you fast and loud. You're known for going after what you want with zero hesitation. You're recognized for your courage and originality. People remember your confidence, style, and how you always seem one step ahead.

🎆: Taurus Rising -> You exude luxurious, grounded energy. Your fame comes from your beauty, voice, or consistency. You might be known for a signature look, a calming presence, or material success. Fame finds you slowly but sticks. You age like fine wine and may be a beauty or fashion icon.

🎆: Gemini Rising -> Famous for your voice, ideas, or versatility. You're the social butterfly, trend chaser, and smart mouth. Witty, multi-talented, and always booked. You may become well known for your interviews, public speaking, or playing multiple roles across different industries.

🎆: Cancer Rising -> You're adored for your softness, intuition, or emotional depth. People see you as relatable and nurturing. Your fame may start young or be tied to your vulnerability. You're known for emotional connection and maternal/family themes.

🎆: Leo Rising -> This is star quality incarnate. Big hair, big presence, big energy. You shine naturally and crave the spotlight, and people love to give it to you. You're instantly seen as a celebrity even before you're famous. People treat you like royalty.

🎆: Virgo Rising -> Famous for your brain. precision, and aesthetic. You give polished and practical. You may be known for attention to detail, beauty, and discipline. Quietly powerful, consistently respected.

🎆: Libra Rising -> This is the classic beauty/fame rising. You're known for grace, charm, and balance. People admire your looks and diplomatic vibes. You're famous for your appearance, relationships, or branding. You may be the face of a generation.

🎆: Scorpio Rising -> You're mysterious, magnetic, and unforgettable. You draw fame with your intensity. You gain fame from powerful transformations, a signature look, or emotional depth. People are obsessed with figuring you out.

🎆: Sagittarius Rising -> You're the wild card. Your fame is global, big, and full of personality. You're known for being free-spirited, adventurous, and unfiltered. Fame might come from travel, education, or just being you loudly.

🎆: Capricorn Rising -> You're a boss from day one. People recognize you as serious, iconic, and timeless. Your fame builds with age and respect. You're a legend in the making; classic, clean, and career driven.

🎆: Aquarius Rising -> You're famous for being different, futuristic, and innovative. You're iconic for breaking the mold. Fame may come through activism, uniqueness, or standing for something powerful.

🎆: Pisces Rising -> You exude ethereal, dreamlike energy. Fame often feels destined. You're known for your mystery, art, and emotion. People project fantasies onto you, and your presence feels otherworldly.

DEGREES:

✨: 0° -> Fresh, bold energy; fame often hits fast and strong. You're seen as a pioneer, known for starting new trends or movements.

✨: 1° -> Magnetic and noticeable; your public image has an undeniable pull. Fame comes through leadership or being first in your scene.

✨: 2° -> Creative and dramatic; your presence demands attention, and you're often known for your flair or performance style.

✨: 3° -> Ambitious and energetic; you're viewed as a hustler or go getter. Fame arises through visible hard work and determination.

✨: 4° -> Charming and diplomatic; people love your approachable vibe, which helps your fame grow steadily and warmly.

✨: 5° -> Social and communicative; you gain fame through your artistic talents, children, networking, or media presence. Leo degree - short term fame or fame as a kid/ surrounding children.

✨: 6° -> Balanced and stylish, you're known for grace and good taste, building fame through refinement and aesthetics.

✨: 7° -> Dynamic and expressive; your fame is linked to your ability to entertain and connect emotionally.

✨: 8° -> Bold and authoritative; you project power and command attention, often seen as a natural leader.

✨: 9° -> Optimistic and friendly; your public image is sunny and inviting, drawing people in effortlessly.

✨: 10° -> Polished and professional; you gain respect and fame in traditional or prestigious arenas.

✨: 11° -> Creative and inspiring; your fame is tied to original ideas or artistic vision.

✨: 12° -> Focused and intense; you're known for determination and depth; your fame often tied to serious or meaningful work.

✨: 13° -> Expressive and magnetic; your personality captivates crowds, giving you a strong public appeal.

✨: 14° -> Responsible and reliable; your fame builds slowly but surely, thanks to consistency.

✨: 15° -> Passionate and vibrant; you stand out in crowds for your energy and enthusiasm.

✨: 16° -> Mysterious and intriguing; your fame often has an enigmatic quality, drawing a devoted following.

✨: 17° -> Creative and intellectual; people admire your originality and wit, making your fame both thoughtful and engaging. Leo degree - long term fame.

✨: 18° -> Powerful and confident; your public persona commands respect and attention naturally.

✨: 19° -> Friendly and approachable; you're well liked and known for your warmth.

✨: 20° -> Authoritative and commanding; you project strong leadership, and your fame often relates to positions of power.

✨: 21° -> Optimistic and charismatic; your sunny disposition wins hearts and builds lasting fame.

✨: 22° -> Wise and experienced; you're respected as a mentor or elder figure, with a solid reputation.

✨: 23° -> Energetic and innovative; your fame is connected to new ideas and forward thinking.

✨: 24° -> Confident and regal; you carry yourself like royalty, and your fame is grand and noticeable.

✨: 25° -> Charming and balanced; your fame comes from your ability to connect with many different people.

✨: 26° -> Creative and passionate; your public image is colorful and inspiring.

✨: 27° -> Mysterious and intense; your fame often has depth, attracting a loyal niche audience.

✨: 28° -> Magnetic and legendary; people remember you for your unique presence and lasting impact. Household name.

✨: 29° -> Sophisticated and refined; your fame is timeless, marked by elegance and distinction.

What is your FPC rising sign and degree ? Mine is Taurus rising at 28 degrees. I am a beauty/fashion influencer on Instagram.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at goddessguapa@gmail.com or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

✨

[ghostlyferrettarot]

⋆.˚✮🔑✮˚.⋆ How do others see us according to our Rising sign? ⋆.˚✮🔑✮˚.⋆

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

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₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ.Masterlist₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ.Masterlist 2₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ.

⋆.˚✮♈Aries risings: Your presence is intense, full of courage and an unwavering drive to act. You project a challenging and advanced vibe, as if you are ready to take on the world head on. Some people may see you as impulsive, but your determination is what defines you the most. They see you as firm, determined, and with a leader energy that sets the tone.

⋆.˚✮♉Taurus risings:: With Taurus Ascendant, your vibe is one of calm and security. Your practical approach and connection to material things make others see you as someone who is firmly grounded. You project a vibe of reliability. People see you as someone who has a quiet strength, and they seek your company when they need comfort or stability. People see you as someone they can build and grow with.

⋆.˚✮♊Gemini risings: Gemini rising people are perceived as interesting, fun, and with an energy of variety. You give off a vibe of someone who is always on the go and looking for new experiences. You have a way of connecting with people quickly, and your curiosity leads you to constantly learn new things. You give off a vibe of a natural communicator. You are often seen as the person who breaks the ice in any situation.

⋆.˚✮♋Cancer risings: Cancer rising people have an energy that reflects compassion and protection. You give off a caring vibe, as if you can offer an emotional refuge to others. Your connection to your feelings is deep, and that makes people see you as sensitive and attentive. People perceive you as someone who is very emotional and highly sensitive.

⋆.˚✮♌Leo risings: Leo Ascendants are known for their charisma and their ability to effortlessly attract attention. Your vibe is that of a natural leader who isn't afraid to shine. You project an energy of pride, confidence, and greatness. People see you as someone who takes control and inspires respect and admiration. You give off a royal vibe. Full of optimism, and with a natural ability to lead or be the center of attention.

⋆.˚✮♍Virgo risings: You project a vibe of order and efficiency, as if everything in your life has a reason for being. You are perceived as someone who focuses on details and has a clear vision about what is needed to achieve success. People tend to see you as someone who has everything under control and with a problem-solving approach.

⋆.˚✮♎Libra risings:: Libra ascendants are perceived as charming people, with an energy that seeks harmony and balance. You emanate a vibe of diplomacy and empathy, always looking for the best in others. Your ability to connect with people and keep the peace makes you very well-liked. People perceive you as someone who is easy to get along with, always willing to listen and understand others.

⋆.˚✮♏Scorpio risings: Scorpio rising people project an intense and mysterious energy. They may sometimes see you as reserved, but that only increases the fascination others feel for you. Scorpios tend to be intense, with a marked face and piercing eyes that seem to read the emotions of others. You project a vibe of mystery and authority. People sense there is something deep about you.

⋆.˚✮♐Sagittarius risings: Sagittarius Ascendants are perceived as optimistic, sociable, and with an expansive energy. Your vibe is that of an explorer who is always looking for something new.You project a vibe of adventure and freedom. People see you as someone with an independent spirit and who always brings a positive outlook to any situation.

⋆.˚✮♑Capricorn risings: Capricorn Ascendants project a serious and determined energy. You exude a vibe of responsibility and ambition, as if you are always focused on your goals and building something lasting. People see you as practical and reliable, but they may also perceive you as somewhat reserved. Others see you as someone who is down to earth and determined to achieve success.

⋆.˚✮♒Aquarius risings: Aquarius ascendants have a very original and unconventional energy. People see you as someone who is constantly looking to change the rules. You emanate a sense of being someone with a unique vision of the world. You project a vibe of freedom and authenticity. People see you as someone who thinks differently and acts according to their own rules.

⋆.˚✮♓Pices risings: With Pisces Ascendant, others perceive you as a sweet, loving, and very sensitive person. Often, people see you as someone who has a deep connection with emotions and can understand the needs of others without words. Your energy is that of someone who has a dreamy nature and great intuition. You are seen as someone who is very empathetic and has an incredible ability to emotionally connect with others.

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[slowfuckintheafternoon]

18+ only please and thank you

Gaz who won’t let you jerk off in peace.

It’s not that you don’t like having sex with him, it’s just that it’s been months since his last deployment, and it feels like forever since you got to connect with your body on your own terms.

You just want to explore yourself again, that’s all. He's been taking good care of you, but you want to take care of you. You want to take your time with yourself, lingering on the most sensitive angles that only you can find. It hits the spot sometimes to just lay back, relax, and get yourself off again like the old days.

But miserably, you’ve been getting home at the same time as him for weeks, and it’s made it nearly impossible to be alone. This weekend, though, you're determined. You're going to make it happen, one way or another. You're going to get that solo wank if it's the last thing you do.

But it seems like as soon as you’ve fully attached yourself to the plan, your boyfriend is suddenly an inescapable force of observance.

All of a sudden he wants your in-depth advice on vacation ideas, following you around the house like a lost duckling. He even turns down drinks with his mates, which is absolutely unheard of, just to spend incredibly inconvenient time with you.

The one weekend you want him gone, and he's become the most constantly around person imaginable, much to your irritation.

It’s absolutely unfair. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a private wank, and you shouldn’t have to feel like you’re sneaking around to get it. But every time you think you've gathered your courage enough to ask, you'll look over at him and he’ll just be standing there, so cute and seeming so happy to be near you, so you don't ask.

You don't ask, and you don't wank.

You start withdrawing from his hugs and touches, hoping it'll put off your the usual weekend fuck, because you just know it'll suck all the satisfaction out of your wank. You can't ask, but you can't seem to let it go either, because it's somehow become a need. An actual, emotional need for something that shouldn't matter that much, but it does. It matters that you aren't getting time to yourself when you need it.

The hours continue to pass, until you find yourself in the last afternoon of your weekend, and you swear he hasn't sat his ass down away from you all day.

You touch yourself a little bit in the bathroom, desperately hoping it'll be good enough, and you'll be able to just get it over with and go back to normal.

But it's not good. It's rushed and anxious and completely unenjoyable, so you give up before you even manage to get yourself wet.

And of course, as soon as you've washed your hands and stepped out of the bathroom, that man is right there waiting for you. You can't help the flicker of annoyance on your face when you spot him sitting there on the corner of the bed.

"Um, I think I'm going to..." You pause, picking up your car keys from the dresser, but then setting them back down. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll stay home. Do you need to go anywhere? Run any, um, errands?"

Kyle frowns at the suspicious, hopeful blinks you're throwing in his direction. "Not particularly."

Unconsciously your fingers grab hold of your keys again, and you only realize you're doing it when his eyes follow the movement.

"Oh, okay," you ramble, shoving your keys away, and feeling like you suddenly don't know what to do with your hands. "You gonna... pop round to see your mum today?"

Kyle stands up slowly, openly eyeing your nervous body language. Your gaze wanders to the dresser because you can't stand to look at him, can barely think past the haze of repressed feelings and self denial and the deception. It's not fair, it's not fair. When will you get what you need?

“D’you want to see other people?” he finally asks.

Instantly your eyes snap up to his face, to the pained expression he’s failing to hide.

“Like, open the relationship or something?" he continues in that too-calm voice. "If you haven’t been satisfied lately, then we can talk about—“

“Kyle, no. What the fuck? No.”

He visibly sets his jaw. “Then what is it? Cause if we’re breaking up—“

“God, shut up! Just shut up for a second. Oh, god."

You start giggling before you can stop it, not because anything is funny, but because you're incredibly nervous. He still looks so worried, and it's still so hard to say, but you might as well just spill your guts at this point because the giggling is making things worse.

“I just wanted to, um, m-masturbate, um by myself, because we just have sex now whenever I’m horny, and I haven’t got to do it in a while. Without you, I mean. All by myself. Oh, god, this is so stupid."

Another giggle slips out, and you’re braced for his hurt feelings, maybe a rare bit of anger poking through the surface.

But instead he suddenly lets out a barking laugh. “That’s it?? You’ve been torturing me all weekend just cause you needed some alone time?”

"It's not funny, Kyle." Nevermind that you're failing to suppress more nervous laugher.

"Oh my god." He wipes his hand over his face, seeming utterly dumbfounded. “Oh my god, what a relief.”

And then your boyfriend spins around all dramatic, and flattens himself against the wall, laughing obnoxiously with his head buried in his arms.

“A fuckin’ wank.” Comes his incredulous voice, half muffled by his forearm. “Just... wanted a wank. All that for a wank."

“You’re being annoying,” you mutter. “And I still haven’t got my wank, thank you very much.”

"You're right." Kyle straightens right up, looks you dead in the eye, and smiles. "And you're gonna get it right now."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Look at me." He takes one step towards you, pointing a finger at his suddenly grave expression. "I'm fuckin' serious. We're getting you that wank."

The idiot takes you by the hand -- you're incapacitated with giggles, by the way -- and leads you straight to the bed, helping you up onto it as if he was your personal masturbation chauffeur.

"You stay there," he instructs you, only to scurry off and quickly return with your water bottle and your phone.

"For hydration--" holds up the water bottle-- "for visual aids--" holds up the phone-- "for moral support--" leans down and kisses you straight on the mouth.

"Baby, I love you."

"I love you too. I'm gonna go pop off to the shop so you'll have no distractions. You stay there, and please for the love of god, tell me the next time you need a wank."

"You're the best!" you call after him, tucking yourself into the blankets.

"Yes I am."

Soon the place is quiet and still, and it's just you in your fluffy bed, wonderfully, deliciously alone.

You starfish your limbs out in the sheets, once you're good and naked. Let all the fabric drag against your bare skin and sigh happily.

You are happy. You're so happy with Kyle.

It's a good wank, too. You get out your vibrator, and find exactly the visual aids that you want, and you let yourself savor the buildup, without any reason to hide what you're doing.

Soon your brain turns to mush and you cum in your nice comfy bed, cradled in the sheets that smell like your boyfriend. It's lovely. It's wonderful. You click off your sex toy and catch your breath with your fingers pressed tight to your clit, basking in that gooey warmth as long as you're able.

And then you miss him. Like, instantly, as soon as you're done cumming. You miss Kyle.

You should be gratefully taking advantage of his absence to be alone in the bed, maybe grab a few more orgasms for yourself, but instead you find yourself snatching up your phone. You scan through the last few texts he's sent you, imagining hearing them in his voice.

Fuck it. Might as well just call him.

"Alright?" he answers after a few rings.

"Yeah, I'm all finished. You can come back now."

There's a laugh on the other end of the line that makes you smile from ear to ear. "I haven't finished my shopping."

"Okay, but hurry back if you can."

"You missing me, baby?"

Another smile. "Yes. A little."

"Ahh, well. Just a little isn't too bad, I've got a list."

You half laugh, half growl at him. "Come back, please."

"On my way."

It does seem like he's immediately on his way, because he returns so quickly, you imagine he just set down his basket right there and fled the store. You've been too relaxed and lazy boned to even put away your vibrator, but you're so happy to see him that you sit up naked in bed and reach out your arms for him to join you.

That man's face. He's getting worse and worse at hiding how much he likes you.

It just takes one look, one second of having him wrapping his arms around you in a reunion hug, before you're suddenly, violently horny again.

Good news, he's right on board with that idea. Soon you're both tugging his clothes off, and he's tucking himself into the sheets with you, his fingers finding you already so wet and welcoming from your time apart.

This is what your body wants. It's a dumb animal that wants to feel safe, and get the things it needs, and it especially wants him. All of him. His tongue in your mouth, his happy sounds mixing with yours, his cock inside you after you manhandle him onto his back.

You want to ride him. Give him a chance to lay back and relax, and give you a chance to take care of your man who takes care of you. You smile down at him while you bounce on his dick, feeling that familiar stirring of emotion in the top of your throat.

He belongs to you. You want him forever.

It has you going slower, stroking your hand up his body, across his jaw. Feeling and memorizing, and accepting him as yours while you grind his cock in and out.

"Kyle." You're not expecting your voice to crack, so you swallow and try again. "Kyle, I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"Do you want to get married?"

It slips out before you can stop it, before you can cut yourself off or pretend it was a joke, or do anything but inhale in nervous shock.

Kyle's blinking up at you with an equally surprised look on his face, holding your hips tighter than he was before, until you stop moving.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "I didn't mean--"

"Stop it." Something deadly serious has settled over his face, and he pushes you up and off him in one careful motion.

Shit, fuck, why did you say it? Why did you have to ruin everything?

"Forget I said that, we don't have to get married, I don't even know why I said that--"

He's pushing you off him, throwing his legs over the side of the bed to get away.

"Kyle, please--"

"Shut up! Just shut up." Your boyfriend quickly fumbles his hand around in his bedside table drawer, and then retrieves a...

Jewelry box.

"Oh my god," you whisper, clapping your hand to your mouth.

"I was gonna... That is, I was planning on something else, sometime next month, but..."

"Oh my god," you repeat, relieved tears suddenly stinging your eyes.

"Feels a bit stupid to do it like this, when we're halfway through a fuck, but lord knows I can't reason with you once you've got it in your head that I hate you, so. Will you marry me?"

He starts to sink down like he's about to belatedly get on a knee, but like an animal suddenly untethered, you're already launching yourself at him.

"YES!" you squeal, swinging your arms around his shoulders and giggling like an insane person while you take him halfway to the ground.

You both can't stop laughing after that, especially when he's shaking so much he can barely get the ring on your finger. It's a beautiful, sparkly one, just like you always imagined.

Somehow, between kisses and excited whispers, you both make it back to the bed. He gets you under him and twines your fingers together next to your head, the hand that's now bearing the ring he'd hidden away for you.

And then he fucks you, nice and slow, until his shaking has vanished. That man kisses you like you're precious, keeps pulling back to look into your eyes and smile, like you're the most wonderful thing he's ever seen.

And he keeps fucking you like that, slowly grinding himself into you, keeping your hand in his.

"You gonna be my wife?"

"Uh huh."

"We're getting married, baby."

"I know, I'm so happy."

"I'm so happy, too."

[emmyrosee]

head empty, only rin loving kisses and being waaaaaaay to proud (shy) to ask for them.

he would love nothing more than to be able to work up the courage to ask you to kiss him, he’s touch starved and needs constant attention, but he’d rather eat rat poison than ever confess it to you. you have the effect on him, you’ve torn down his walls and shown him all the praise and affection he is worth giving, and you’ve turned him into a sucker for kisses.

which is wonderful, since you’re so keen on giving them to him.

terrible when all he wants is a kiss and you don’t notice it.

he’s pacing back and forth in the next room, desperate, craving, needing a kiss or two on his forehead and one on his lips, in a line like you usually do. routine, is how he’d describe it, but deep down, he’ll take anything he can get. his big hands are carding through his hair, and god, he’s thrilled no one is able to see him like this.

“what’re you doing, baby?”

fuck.

except you.

he nearly leaps out of his skin as you make your way to him, and when he whips his head to face you, your brows a furrowed in concern and your arms are crossed over your chest. “you vanished,” you explain. “missed my snuggle buddy.”

“eugh,” he grumbles. “we’ve talked about the nicknames, haven’t we?” he scolds, and you merely chuckle.

“we have, i just choose to not listen to you.”

“and that’s exactly why you’re a pain in the neck.”

then, you shrug, “so im a pain, meanwhile you’re stuck in here waiting for me to come give you a kiss because you can’t ask for it?”

fuck.

he scoffs, but it’s shaky and unconvincing, “yeah right. as if id ever need something as juvenile as a kiss to lure me back. i just needed to stretch is all.”

“yeah, i’ll bet,” you snicker. then you spin on your heel, and rin feels his heart sink, “well, ill be on the couch. waiting for you.”

no, no, no, his chance is walking away from him, literally, disappearing down the hall and leaving him a yearning mess, pining for your affection that he’s just not sure how to ask for.

his head drops in disappointment, fists balling slightly, and he pouts softly like a child as he wracks his mind to try and work up the courage to go. he’s pathetic, can’t even ask for affection from his own partner, someone he sleeps next to at night and lets smear a green, cold face mask on him, someone he’s so in love with they turn him into a damn petulant child at the lack of attention, and-

“hey,” you whisper. he looks at you through his lashes, embarrassed.

you smile and toss your arms around his neck, rising up slightly to press a kiss to the apple of his cheek. his eyes blow open. then, you kiss his nose gently. his lips twitch. you plant your lips on the ticklish spot on his neck, and he jerks slightly. you giggle.

“oh, you’re so cute i can’t stand it,” you purr, kissing the other side of his cheek. “i just love loving you.” you press a kiss to his chin, and by now he’s smiling shyly, cheeks blazed in red from embarrassment and excitement for the attention he’s finally receiving. “i could just eat you up, you’re so cute.” you kiss the corner of his eye, which flutters shut in ease. “i can’t not kiss you, it’s against the law.”

finally, stiffly, his arms wrap around your waist, “who would you be to break the law?”

“i would never,” you hum, moving your hands to gently cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your gaze. his eyes practically have little hearts in them, and a wobbly smirk is on his lips. “you want some more?”

his eyes widen again. you shush him softly, thumbs stroking over the swells of his cheeks, “just nod or shake your head, my lovey boy.”

against his own determination of ‘not needing’ your attention, he finds himself nodding in your hands, butterflies in his stomach going crazy as you smile back and continue to press kisses over his face, voice dripping with honey with every adoring coo you offer him.

[freakmcnastyy]

Haunted

Han Soo-gang x f!reader

Warnings: sexual intimidation, obsessive behavior, violence, dubious consent, emotional manipulation.

Summary: Childhood friends turned into something darker when Han Soo-gang’s obsession grew past control.

Note: Anon requesttt

⸻

You can run, you can scream, but in the end… some shadows never leave. Especially the ones that once called you home.

⸻

Even when you were kids, he was different. While the other boys shared ordinary things with you —gums, toys or snacks— Han Soo-gang never did that. He showed his interest by throwing notes at you, pulling your hair. Sometimes he’d just lean his head silently on your shoulder and sit there without saying a word. Other times, he’d clench his jaw and crack his knuckles as he muttered, “Why is that guy looking at you?”

Even back then, whenever you got too close to someone, that kid would show up at school the next day with bruises on his face, avoiding your eyes. You never understood why people kept pulling away from you. But he did. Because he made each and every one of them regret ever being born.

You were the girl who always smiled, the teachers’ favorite. Not even Soo-gang’s heavy gaze could dim the sunshine on your face. You sat in the front row; he was always in the far back, resting his chin on his hand, just watching you.

You were never his girlfriend. Never even considered it. But to him, you’d always belonged to him. He acted like it. He kept you close—not like someone in love, not like a man cherishing a woman—but like a monster loving in the only way it knew how.

Even protecting you came as a threat. He didn’t just say, “Don’t talk to that guy.” He’d drag that boy into the shadows, feed terror into bodies too scared to fight back. Then he’d turn to you and calmly say, “I warned you.” His eyes always held the same darkness.

But he didn’t give you flowers, didn’t whisper sweet things, didn’t look into your eyes and confess his love. No, he showed it by claiming, suffocating, destroying. And you… you still remembered the boy he once was. That might’ve been your biggest mistake.

⸻ / High school /

You were walking down the hallway when you heard it—his voice. That boy had come up to you again, hesitant but determined this time.

“I just had a few questions about today’s presentation. Could you help me out?” he asked, voice trembling with shy courage.

You smiled gently. You wanted to help. It felt right. For a second, you believed you could be a normal student.

But there was no such thing as normal in your world.

You recognized the footsteps behind you before the voice. These days, you even knew his scent. When he reached your side, what startled you wasn’t his tone—still calm, still composed—but that fake smile and the possessive arm he wrapped around your waist.

Your heart raced, not just from fear. When he brushed his nose behind your ear, your breath caught. His voice was low but sharp.

“Hm… What are we chatting about?”

His smile was polite, but his eyes… terrifying. His fingers tightened on your waist with a grip that screamed ownership. He turned to the boy. And that look—that look—crushed the last bit of courage in him. The boy’s eyes widened. After a brief pause, he turned and walked away without another word.

Soo-gang slowly pulled his hand from your waist, held your gaze for a second. Then, without a word, turned and followed after the boy.

You stepped forward instantly.

“Soo-gang! Don’t—please!” Your voice cracked in desperation. You took another step, but one of his friends threw an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, come on,” he said. “Let’s go hit the vending machines. Got any change?”

Another grabbed your wrist. “That kid was getting too close anyway, right? Let Soo-gang have a little talk.”

They slowly pulled you away. You tried calling out again, but he either didn’t hear you—or didn’t care.

⸻

In a dark, unused classroom, the boy was pressed against the wall. Han Soo-gang kicked the door shut. Silence fell.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from her?” he said.

The boy couldn’t meet his eyes, but he had just enough courage to speak. “Am I not allowed to talk to her? Who made that rule? You?”

Han Soo-gang stepped forward. “Yeah. Me.”

“You can’t even say you love her. But you’re ready to beat up everyone around her? What kind of twisted way is that to care about someone?”

Before the sentence even ended, Soo-gang’s fist collided with his face. The boy’s head snapped sideways, blood seeping from his lip. The second punch was harder. Then came the third. Han Soo-gang didn’t say a word—just kept hitting.

“I warned you,” he growled through clenched teeth, grabbing the boy’s collar and forcing him toward the ground.

Lying on the floor, the boy spat blood and whispered, “You never deserved her smile. Even if she was with you… she’d never be happy.”

That didn’t even make him angry. One last kick landed hard in the boy’s ribs. Then Soo-gang turned around, pausing in the doorway before letting his gaze sink into the dark.

⸻

The night was cool. The lines of the basketball court glowed beneath the streetlights. The thump of the ball, the scrape of shoes, muffled laughter—it all echoed faintly.

You were sitting at the corner bench, knees to your chest, chin resting on them. Your eyes were on the court, but your mind was somewhere else.

Han Soo-gang sat beside you, elbows on his knees, flipping a lighter open and shut. Even in a crowd, he was the only one who could make you feel completely alone. You turned to him. The thoughts in your head were heavy, stuck in your throat.

“Why do you do this?” you asked, voice soft but edged with hurt.

He didn’t look at you—just kept flicking the lighter. “Do what, exactly?” he said with a mocking tone, like always.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend. Not once. Because of you.”

He glanced at you, and you kept going, eyes on the ground.

“Every time I like someone… they disappear. They drop out, they change classes… or I don’t know..”

He chuckled quietly, sniffed once, then bowed his head again. “Aww, so you’re saying it’s my fault you never had a boyfriend?” His voice dripped with fake sympathy. “That’s tragic.”

You looked away. “Don’t mock me.” Your eyes shimmered but you didn’t cry. Not in front of him. “I wanted to hold someone’s hand, go to the movies, send dumb texts. But you… you always got in the way.”

This time, he turned to face you, resting his arm on the back of the bench. “So what—you wanted to hold hands with someone else?” he said. Still teasing, but his eyes were hollow. He smiled. “Good thing you didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think? Those hands are mine. That smile, that stupid laugh, that way you rub your eyes in the morning… I wanted all of it to stay with me. Did I have to spell it out?”

You froze inside. You searched his face—for some explanation, some moment of vulnerability, something real. Then suddenly, he grabbed your hand.

“If this hand ever touches anyone else’s…” he said calmly, “I’ll break them.” Then he let go, tucked the lighter into his pocket.

A voice called from the court. “Soo-gang! You joining or what?”

He stood, turned, and walked away. You sat there, crushed by the weight pressing on your chest.

⸻

The sun was setting, painting the school’s back walls orange. The courtyard was almost empty. As you rounded the corner, you heard it again. A thud—then a choked breath. Someone groaning. And then his voice.

Han Soo-gang.

Your eyes widened. Breath quickened. His back was to you. He had that same boy pressed against the wall, fists clenched in his collar.

“Do you want me to kill you?” he hissed.

The boy couldn’t even open his mouth. His eyes brimmed with tears.

Rage rose in your throat. Not this time. You wouldn’t stay silent.

“Han Soo-gang! That’s enough!” you shouted.

You stepped forward, steady and fast.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you insane?”

He turned slowly. His eyes locked onto yours.

“What are you doing here?”

“He’s my friend.” Saying it gave you a strange sense of calm. But you weren’t finished.

“Let go of him. Now.”

You grabbed the boy’s arm, gently pulling him away from Soo-gang. Your eyes met his. His were pure shadow.

“Don’t talk to me again,” you said. “Pretend you don’t know me. Don’t even say my name.”

And in that moment… he looked vulnerable for the first time.

You pulled the boy away and walked off.

You never looked back.

But he did. He clenched his jaw. His fists curled tight. Something tore through his chest so violently, it felt like his ribs had caught fire.

He didn’t end that day.

You thought he would—but no.

He never does.

⸻

It was late in the evening. There was no one left in the corridors. You were walking to the teachers' room with a few documents in your hand. You opened the door and went in. There was no one in the room. A dim light was shining on the window. You leaned over the table and started to place the documents.

At that moment… you felt someone's breath on your neck.

A shadow, a weight… and then a touch.

A hard hand on your shoulder suddenly pressed you forward. To the table. Although your body resisted reflexively, you could not do anything against his strength. You fell face down on the table.

“What are you doing?!”

Your voice trembled, not from fear; but from anger.

You couldn't turn back. But you heard his voice when you leaned into his ear.

“You want attention, huh?”

His breath was hitting your neck. He had pressed his body against yours, not moving. But he was there. With all his strength. He was pressing his groin against your hip.

He sighed, almost calmly. Then he grabbed your hair.

"Ah~ yeah that damn ass needs some attention."

He pressed you down harder on the table. One hand continued to hold your hair while the other hand moved towards your hips. When he found it, he started to giggle. Then he bit your ear. As if that wasn't enough, he squeezed it.

"If you try to stop me any longer, I swear I'll fuck you in front of everyone at school."

Then he slightly pulled himself away from where he was pressing himself. He lifted you up to him. He continued to whisper in your ear.

"If you try to erase me... I'll be engraved even deeper. In your mind, in your skin, in your breath. Even when you look at someone else, I'll pass through your eyes."

And then his voice got slower. It became more dangerous.

"You can't stay away from me, baby."

He took a step back. He slowly lowered his hand on your shoulder.

As if nothing had happened... he walked to the door.

He opened the door. And left.

You stayed there. Your legs shook from the impact of the incident. You held onto the table. Your breathing was ragged. His warmth was still on your body, but it burned you.

He had never left you. And he had no intention of leaving you.

⸻ Timeskip

Night.

Rain was falling lightly.

You were just about to leave school.

But that day—felt nothing like ordinary.

Word had gotten out that you’d eaten lunch with another guy.

Of course, it made its way to Soo-gang.

But this time… he kept his distance.

Didn’t say a word.

Just those vague glances… that silence…

The calm before the storm.

You didn’t notice it at first—

the footsteps behind you, steady and sharp, as you walked out the back gate.

But when he said your name, you turned.

And when your eyes met…

Your whole body froze.

He was there. Soaked through.

His eyes didn’t move an inch away from you.

“Running away again, huh?”

His voice was harsh—

but broken.

Like each word stabbed his throat on the way out.

“Guess my last warning didn’t work.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone.”

Your voice was steady,

but your heart was pounding so loud you swore he could hear it.

“It’s over. Don’t you get it? I don’t want you.”

He took a step closer.

With every step, the sound of the rain shifted.

“You don’t even know what you want.”

Your shoulders tensed.

“I know exactly what I want. A normal life. Not some guy who picks fights like a maniac. Not a psycho who threatens me.”

And in that moment—

something in his eyes shifted. Instantly.

The smile vanished.

He just stared at you.

Slowly, he pulled something out of his pocket.

A necklace.

Familiar.

The one you lost when you were little.

“You know when I planned to give this back?”

“The day you finally said ‘I love you.’”

Your hand dropped.

Your throat dried up.

“I kept it. For years. So nothing would change.

But you… you always ran. Always.”

The necklace dangled in his fingers.

He stepped forward. Then again.

Now, there was barely any space between you.

“You’re mine.

You can’t belong to anyone else—because I’ve already claimed you.

No one can break you like I can.

And no one… will protect you like I will.”

“Why?” you asked.

Your eyes were glassy.

You were tired.

And then… it happened.

He looked at you—

like he saw straight through your chest.

“Because I love you.”

The words didn’t fall from his lips.

They bled.

Like something torn out of him.

“Yeah. I’m obsessed.

Yeah. I’m sick.

But I don’t know any other way.

My love doesn’t walk a straight line.

When I love… I burn.”

You held your breath.

Looking at him…

you saw, for the first time, he wasn’t sure of himself.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

You couldn’t answer.

He smiled—barely.

The corner of his lip twitched upward.

“You don’t have to say it. But don’t you ever show that smile to anyone else again.

That shine in your eyes?

That’s mine.

You haven’t realized it yet—but you will.

Because this is it.

I’m done chasing.

Done watching from afar.

Tonight… I want you.”

And in that moment—

he put the necklace around your neck.

When the cold metal touched your skin,

you shivered.

“Now you wear my name,” he whispered.

“Anyone who sees it—will know.

Anyone who touches you—will break.”

The rain started to fall harder.

But you didn’t move.

Because in that moment—

you felt what freedom really was.

And how tightly he had locked you away from it.