#I know i have been heavily inactive

[shamanofthewilds]

The infernal Father Runeflame knows how to keep attention on him and bring in his loyal summoners, a time when business and pleasure is one of the same.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Taking care of Jude after his shoulder surgery and trying to comfort him from the idea of not playing for 2 - 3 months, he is out of mood but you know how to cheer him up (maybe a bj)😉

Remedy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is sulking because of his injury and you have the perfect remedy to cheer him up.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.1k

Warnings! NSFW! FLUFF, slight domestic fluff, pouty Jude, he's hurting🥺 SMUT (18+), oral sex (m receiving),

He's quiet.

Has been since you came back from the hospital. The silence that now wraps around him is different from the comfortable, familiar quiet you used to share. It's thick, heavy, and it feels like a dark cloud is following you around.

He doesn't talk much. You're not sure if he even wants to. Every time you try to bring up something about the surgery or football, he just shakes his head and change the subject. You're starting to get worried; this isn't like him. You've seen him upset before, but he was never like this.

The doctor had said he'd be fine after some rest. That it was normal to feel this way after the surgery, especially given the length of his recovery time. Two to three months out of the game was going to be tough for anyone, let alone someone as dedicated as Jude.

You knew that this was going to be hard for him, but you were ready to support him. If that meant taking care of him and doing all the things he hated, then you were happy to do it.

You knew it wasn't just about the surgery, or the recovery time. It was everything else. Being away from his teammates, away from the game, it was hard for him. He felt useless. Inactive.

The only thing that brought him a little joy was you. He always smiled when you were around, and you were always happy to see him. Even if he was still in pain, even if he wasn't talking much. You could see it in his eyes. He was happy to see you.

And right now, he needed you more than ever.

The room is dimly lit when you walk in, casting a soft, amber glow over the furniture. The faint hum of the air conditioning mingles with whatever show he's watching on the TV.

Jude lies in bed, his left shoulder heavily bandaged and propped up with pillows. His face is still pained, but he's not using the morphine anymore. He's trying to tough it out, and it makes your heart ache to see him like that.

You sit down on the edge of the bed near him, smoothing the blankets with your hand. The sheets are crinkled, the bed is a mess, and you think about making it for him, but you know he doesn't want you to fuss. So, instead, you just smooth the blankets down, running your fingertips lightly over the fabric.

His eyes flicker over to you, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Hey,” he says, his voice raspy from lack of use.

You smile back, leaning over him. “Hey,” you say, pressing your lips softly against his forehead. He closes his eyes at the touch, a sigh escaping from between his lips.

“Do you want anything?” you ask, running your palm down his arm. “Painkillers? A glass of water?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I'm fine.” He smiles weakly at you and you nod.

“Are you watching anything interesting?” you ask, gesturing to the TV. The show is some sports documentary, something you're sure he's seen a thousand times before. But it brings him comfort so you hold back from making any comments.

He shakes his head again, reaching up to run his fingers over your cheek. “Just background noise,” he says. “I missed you,” he murmurs, pulling you close.

You settle next to him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the coolness of the room. His touch is gentle, almost fragile, as though he's afraid to press too hard. Afraid of being hurt. You wrap your arm around him carefully, mindful of the bandaged shoulder.

You smile, running your hand down his side. “I missed you too,” you say.

He hums, turning his head to press a soft peck to your lips. The first kiss he's given you all day. “I'm sorry,” he whispers as he pulls away, his hand sliding up under your shirt.

You look up at him, confused. “What for?”

He sighs, his brow furrowing slightly. “For being a dick.”

You frown, shaking your head. “You weren't a dick,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, giving you a look. “Don't lie to me.”

You shake your head again. “I'm not lying,” you say, cupping his jaw in your palm. “I know you're upset, and you're not handling it well, but you weren't a dick.” He looks away, his shoulders hunching forward slightly.

He lets out a deep breath, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “It’s just,” he starts, but the words seem to get stuck somewhere between his heart and his mouth. He lets out a heavy sigh, his good hand clenching into a fist. "I just… I hate feeling useless. Watching the team from the sidelines, not being able to play… it's killing me."

You nod, understanding more than he realizes. “I know,” you say softly. “And you're not useless. You're healing. But you’re going to get through this. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He looks at you, his eyes tired but appreciative. “I don’t feel strong,” he admits. “I'm scared” his eyes look distant. “I feel like I’m losing everything that made me who I am.”

The honesty in his voice hits you like a wave, and you take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone,” you tell him, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. You can see the worry in his gaze, the fear and the uncertainty. It breaks your heart to see him like that.

You give him a soft smile and press your lips to his once more. This time, he meets you halfway, his mouth opening to let you in. He sighs into your mouth, his arm wrapping tight around your waist as he deepens the kiss.

His kisses are slow and tender, careful not to touch your lips too hard. You let him lead, letting him control the pace as you kiss.

You press closer to him, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. His hands roam freely down your back, squeezing your ass and pulling you into him.

He breaks away from you, his breath hot against your face. “I missed kissing you,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. You laugh, and he smiles. It’s the first real smile he’s given you today.

“I missed kissing you too,” you say.

The room is quiet once more, but this time it feels different. The air is lighter, the atmosphere changed. The cloud that had been following you around has vanished, and in its place, there’s a sense of relief. Of calm.

Jude’s fingers trace light patterns on your back, a touch that is both tender and tentative. His breath, warm and uneven, mingles with yours as you stay close. You can feel the faint tremor in his hold, a reminder of the pain he's so desperately trying to mask.

He’s trying to be strong, to fight through this.

You wish you could take all his pain away. You think for a moment, searching for a way to lift his spirits. An idea forms in your mind, and you smirk. You know just what he needs to cheer him up.

The doctor strictly forbade sex for the sake of Jude's quick recovery. But he never said anything about Oral sex. You internally cackle at your own deviousness.

You break away from him, leaning back to give him a sly smile. He doesn't see you, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

You smirk, letting your gaze wander down his body, letting your eyes linger on his crotch. You can just barely see the outline of his cock in his grey sweatpants. He's soft, not aroused, but that's okay. You can change that.

You lean up on your elbow, propping yourself up so you can get a better view. He shifts next to you, his eyes flicking to you. His mouth opens to say something, but he catches sight of the hungry look in your eyes and closes it again.

He smiles, raising his eyebrows. “You’re staring,” he says, his tone amused.

You nod, not ashamed. “I am.”

His smile grows, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You smirk, letting your gaze travel further down his body. “About sucking your cock,” you say, watching as his expression changes from amused to surprised, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline.

He swallows hard, his eyes dropping back to your mouth. “I didn’t…” he starts, trailing off when he catches the look in your eyes. You smirk, biting your lip, and he trails off once more.

He looks up at you, his face still surprised, but there’s something else there now too. Desire.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to?” you ask, watching as he shifts next to you, adjusting his position in the bed.

He licks his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, trying to act nonchalant. “I mean,” he starts, “if you want to.”

You grin, leaning over to press your lips to his once more. This time, you kiss him harder, more urgently. He groans into your mouth, his good arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You're careful of his shoulder, mindful of the bandage.

He lets you lead, following where you take him. Your hands slide up under his shirt, your fingers tracing over his abs. He's lean, his muscles defined from hours spent working out. He shivers beneath your touch, his cock hardening in his pants.

You pull away from him, giving him a heated look as you straddle him. You lean up, running your tongue over his bottom lip before biting it gently. He groans, his hips jerking up into yours.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to watch the trajectory of your hand.

You chuckle, leaning back to run your palm over his cock. He lets out another low groan at the touch, his eyes closing as he throws his head back. “That feels so good,” he says.

You hum, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pants. He shifts beneath you, his cock twitching in response. You lean over him, running your lips down his neck. “Do you want my mouth around your cock?” you ask.

He gasps at the question, his eyes flying open. “Jesus,” he says, his voice hoarse. He nods, his head bobbing up and down. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck. “Good,” you say.

His hands slide up under your shirt, running over your back. “Take your clothes off,” he says, his voice still hoarse. “I want to see you.” You smirk, leaning up to pull your shirt over your head.

He groans, running his hand up over your breast. “Fuck,” he says, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. “You’re beautiful.”

You smile, leaning back to take off your pants. “I’m going to take my clothes off,” you say, sliding the fabric down your thighs. “But then, you have to take your pants off.” He nods, his hand slipping down your stomach as you slide off the bed.

He shifts next to you, his eyes following your body as you move. You kick your pants off and stand up, your fingers hooking into his waistband as you lean over him. “Your turn,” you say, pulling his sweats down.

He lifts his hips for you, wincing slightly as you tug the fabric over his cock. The skin sensitive from the lack of use in the past few weeks. “Sorry,” you say, trying not to hurt him.

He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m fine,” he says.

You hum, leaning over to press your lips to his thigh. He shudders beneath you, his hand sliding up to rest on your head. “Please, baby! Don't tease.” he says, his voice a low whine.

His cock is hard, standing straight up from his body. The head is a deep, angry red, his veins visible under the skin. A drop of precum glistens on the tip, and you can't help but lean closer, your tongue darting out to lick it away.

He moans at the touch, his hips jerking upwards. You smirk, running your tongue around the head before licking down his shaft. He groans again, his head falling back onto the pillows.

You lean down further, licking the sensitive spot underneath the head. His hips jerk up again, his thighs clenching around you. He groans, his hand tightening in your hair. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You hum, licking him once more. You want him to feel good, to take his mind off the pain and the surgery. You want him to focus on the pleasure.

Your fingers trail down his shaft, curling around him to hold him in place. Your tongue moves faster, flicking against the tip of him before licking down to his balls. They’re heavy and swollen, hanging loose under him. He groans when you touch them, his hips twitching with each brush of your lips.

You tease him for a minute, licking and sucking at his balls before moving back to the head. You swirl your tongue around it, sucking the head into your mouth. He groans again, his hips rocking into your mouth.

You take him deeper, sucking harder as you bob your head on him. His hips jerking upwards as he groans. His hand tightens in your hair, holding your head in place. “Fuck sweetheart. Take me deeper, be a good girl,” he gasps, his cock twitching in your mouth.

You hum around him, sucking harder as you move your head faster. He groans again, his thighs shaking under you. “You're so good at this baby. Don’t stop, please,” he says.

You don't plan to, sucking him deeper into your mouth. Your lips slide down his shaft until they meet his trimmed pubes at his base. The dark hairs dust your nose, tickling it. Your mouth is stretched around him, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat.

You swallow, your throat closing around him. He gasps, good hand coming to cover his face, the pleasure too much for him. His shoulder starts to ache behind his jerky movements but he doesn't care. He wants more. “Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his hips rocking up into you.

You pull back, your mouth popping free of him. His cock is shiny, slick with your spit. “Gonna make you cum down my throat,” you say, looking up at him. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at you.

"Yeah?" he whispers, his voice a low growl. "Go ahead then. Take me all the way in that pretty little mouth. Gag on it." His words send shivers down your spine, your own body growing hot in response to his. You're soaked, your pussy dripping wet and aching to be filled.

You lean down, sucking him back into your mouth. His head falls back, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You gag on him, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears fill your eyes as he fucks into you, using your mouth as he likes. He’s rough, his hips slamming upwards to meet you as you bob your head on him.

You gag again, drool soaking his cock as you choke on him dripping down his thighs. It's messy, wet. Just the way he likes it He groans, his cock twitching in your mouth. “Oh shit, baby, I’m close,” he says.

You suck him deeper, your tongue working overtime as he fucks into your mouth. He’s getting closer, his movements growing more erratic as he teases the edge. You can feel the pleasure building in him, the muscles in his thighs tensing under you.

He’s so close now, his cock twitching in your mouth as he gasps. “Baby,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m about to come.” He moans again, his hips jerking up to meet you.

You swallow around him, taking him deep. He cums down your throat, his cock jerking in your mouth. His hips slam upwards, filling your mouth with his seed. You swallow it down, taking it all as he comes.

When he's done, you pull back, gasping for breath. He relaxes back on the bed, his head falling back on the pillows. His chest is heaving, and a light sheen of sweat is covering his skin.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice breathless. “That was so good.” His cock is softening now, tip red, pulsing and glistening with spit.

He sighs again, his eyes opening to look down at you. “Thanks baby,” he says, his voice low and soft. “That was amazing.”

You smile, crawling up his body to rest your head on his chest. “Welcome,” you say, kissing his skin. “I’m sorry again, about your shoulder. It's going to suck not being able to play.”

He hums, his good arm coming to wrap around you. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head is a soothing. His breath, steady and deep, caresses your cheek, and you can feel the faint pulse of his heartbeat as you nestle in closer.

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “I just need some time.” His fingers run through your hair, his touch comforting. You lean into him, your body relaxing. You’re comfortable here, wrapped in his arms.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him. His eyes are closed, his chest still rising and falling in a slow rhythm. “Jude?”

He opens his eyes, looking down at you. “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I could eat.”

You smile, crawling off the bed. “I’ll go make some lunch,” you say, bending down to pick your pants up off the floor. His hand slides up the back of your thigh as you stand. You shiver, your body responding to the touch.

You straighten, pulling your pants on, still shirtless. “Don't even think about it,” you say, laughing watching his eyes glued to your chest. “Your shoulder needs to heal.”

He sighs, flopping back onto the bed. “Fine,” he says, grumbling.

You laugh again, pulling your shirt on. “Be good,” you say, walking over to kiss him. “I’ll bring your food up.”

He nods sulking, but smiles. “Love you,” he says, his voice soft and low.

You smile, leaning down to kiss him again. “Love you too,” you say. You walk out of the room, him watching your ass sway with each step. He’s smiling when you leave, the pain and frustration forgotten.

For now, at least, he’s happy. And that's all that matters.

-Bianca🌻

[sixosix]

THERE IS AN INDENTATION IN THE SHAPE OF YOU | LYNEY

notes 1.5k words, happy mothers day to my mama and to my maman rosalie, IM SORRY FOR THE DELAYWHADJFD

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The moment the messenger bird departs from his fingertips, Freminet launches off in swift motion.

Hours slipped by with him remaining inactive, with ‘Father’ unusually subdued since her return. Freminet should have immediately harbored his suspicions of it—’Father’ will always be one step ahead. Whatever secrets the children attempt to keep are already accounted for by her; it is her response that remains unpredictable and dangerous. Freminet admires that about ‘Father’, but it is perhaps a little unwelcome in the present situation.

The rain died down moments ago. The Hydro Dragon calmed, but Freminet knows that you haven’t.

He finds you kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily. Petrichor is wafting through the air, but there was that distinct smell of frost that Freminet could recognize anywhere. He belatedly notices that your hands have been frozen to the ground and your shoulders are trembling, but you’re making no effort to pull off.

Freminet approaches warily. Lyney’s message had been vague, but he got the gist of it. It was only Help Y/N. Freminet isn’t going to question it; if you were in danger, he wouldn’t think twice about it.

“Hey,” you whisper, seemingly unsurprised by his appearance, only sheepish at your current predicament.

“Y/N,” he says slowly. “Are—how did you—do you know how to get out…?”

“…No,” you cough, embarrassed. “Usually, Rosalie would help me.”

Freminet kneels beside you. “How did this even happen?”

“I—I don’t know. Honest. I just flicked my hand and got stuck. I should’ve calmed down before I left in the rain—I don’t—I was just—”

“You’re shaking,” Freminet interrupts, frowning. “You’re too weak at the moment to budge out yourself.”

“Well, yeah.” You breathed in deep, resigned. “I figured that out twenty minutes ago. I calmed down now, but I kinda gave up.”

“You’ve been stuck here for twenty minutes?”

People with Cryo Visions are more resistant, but no human should be stuck in ice for that long. Freminet supposes he could never fathom how strong you are, even after all these years.

Freminet really missed you. He wants to say it, but now is probably not the time.

“You can learn to thaw it. I had to learn it, too.” Freminet watches in confusion as you stare at the ice—the same ones you’ve created—with contempt. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say fear. “You haven’t been using your Vision?”

“Not on purpose,” you murmur. “It’s always an accident. How do I melt this?”

“You have to relax,” Freminet says, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Think about the ground melting the ice away, like it was never a part of you.”

“I wish it wasn’t a part of me. This is a weakness.”

“It can be a strength if you learn how to use it,” Freminet says. That’s what ‘Father’ used to tell him. “So you shouldn’t neglect your Vision.”

You stare up at Freminet with your mouth a little open. Freminet blushes under the attention, diverting his gaze.

“You’ve really gotten cooler, huh, Freminet?” You grin, the same flame you’ve given him before, back when things were simpler. “I missed you.”

Freminet allows himself to bask in it. “I missed you, too.”

The ice had shrunk, but it was still present. Freminet is mystified—he has never known any other Vision users who were so wholly in tune with their emotions to their Visions. You were like some sort of miracle.

“I wish Lyney was here to help you,” Freminet says and keeps an eye on the glow of your Vision.

Your expression shifts quickly into disdain. “I’d rather he wouldn’t. I don’t want to see him right now, that idiot.”

Freminet tilts his head. “Why? Did he already confess?”

Your eyes widen as the ice doubles over and is enveloped by a new layer. “That—that wasn’t a confession!”

That’s not the reaction of someone not-confessing. “We all knew it, you know. Lyney really likes you.”

“Freminet,” you hiss, your skin burning. And as fast as the frost has crept up your skin, it melts. Even for just the thought of Lyney. How magical it was. Even you seemed surprised, your hand launching to your face to feel how hot it had gotten. Anger, embarrassment, or something else that you couldn't name—it didn't matter, Lyney had a different kind of effect on you.

Freminet smiles. He missed this. “Tell me about it on the way there.”

You tell Freminet you had an inkling of where ‘Father’ took Rosalie. It’s just a guess, you want to say, but it was really more like you don’t know anywhere else where she would take Rosalie. It made the most sense—and, in some up way, it made it poetic.

And so you two stand face to face with your old home, the House of the Hearth. It still had the same grand doors you remember, the same living room, and the same fireplace, but the emptiness was unfamiliar. It was unsettling, like a bad dream.

“Where is everyone?”

“’Father’ told us to evacuate for the entire day,” Freminet says. “But I didn’t know it was going to be because of you.”

You laugh. “There aren’t even any guards here?”

“‘Father’ doesn’t need any.”

Well, he has a point.

You took in the things you can still remember: the room in the far corner that you occupied the most, spent every day training until your limbs couldn’t even move; the table, where you bickered with Lyney all the damn time; the couch, with Cecilia and the start of the terrifying thought that you weren’t going to be anyone special anymore.

You have memories here. Good and bad in equal parts, but still memories. Coming back to the House as it’s empty solidified your leave. This used to be your home.

“Are you okay?” Freminet asks quietly, but it startles you in the silence of the building.

“I’m okay, sorry. Do you have any idea about where ‘Father’ could be?”

Freminet’s eyes brighten. “I do. Follow me.”

The click of Freminet’s steps eases your nerves a little bit. At least, you think, you aren’t surrounded by suffocating whispers anymore in this House.

Freminet leads you down the corridor, and it comes to you belatedly that this path was intimately familiar to you. As he stops before a door, you knew. Your name is still engraved onto it, but with the dust and rust that has collected and grown over time, it wasn’t taken care of anymore.

“Here?” you ask in disbelief.

“I hope so.”

Freminet twists the knob, and the whispers that resound from the room fall silent. You find it strange that it hasn’t been locked, and it feels like walking into a trap, but you realize that all of this had been part of The Knave’s plan—of course it would be a trap that you’ve walked straight into. But all those thoughts are wiped away when your gaze dawns on the woman on the chair, who was glaring at her hand.

“Maman!” you cry out, missing the cup of tea she was holding.

She flicks the tea behind you and flings her arms out when you launch onto her. “Ma chérie!” she exclaims brightly.

The glass shatters and startles you back into clarity. You blink dumbly at the mess, then back at Rosalie. “Were you going to drink that?”

Her expression turns fierce. “No. Never. Not ever, okay, mon amour?”

“Oh, er, yes.” You never realized that Rosalie harbored an intense hatred for tea.

And finally, you direct your attention to the woman who has been silently watching the entire time.

“‘Father’,” you address her.

You haven’t called her that since you left. In your head, she’s always been The Knave; from the moment you left, in each flower you froze, in painful memories with Lyney, she is The Knave. But looking at her now, you feel like nothing else fits more. The ease of the admission almost terrified you. You could never deny it—she is your ‘Father’.

“I see that Freminet was the one who brought you here.” Arlecchino hums thoughtfully. “I was expecting Lyney.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Father’,” Freminet says weakly, head bowed. “But I stand against whatever punishment you will give her. I am here to protect her.”

“You’re openly going against the rules of the House?” she asks, tone stern.

Freminet sucks in a breath, afraid. “I-If I have to. I will not let you hurt Y/N.”

Arlecchino simply places her hand on Freminet’s head. “And you know that I wouldn’t. Do not worry. I know and understand your loyalty doesn’t stop at people who’ve chosen to leave our family.”

Freminet’s head snaps up, his eyes wide.

As heartwarming as it was, the teacup shards and its liquid's strange pungent smell have alarmed you. What was she giving to Rosalie? “Why did you bring her here?”

“Do you remember the most important rule of the House?”

“Betrayal to the House is punished with our lives,” you recite almost instinctively. Rosalie reaches for your hand and grips it tight but keeps her gaze forward, as if only to assure you that you aren’t alone. “But it’s only me. Rosalie doesn’t know anything. If you want to kill anyone, it should be me. Please, ‘Father’.”

Arlecchino almost smiles. “You want to know the truth?”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

“I thought you were like me. I recognized my youth in yours. But I was wrong. You love more freely than I do; you just don’t see it.” Arlecchino stalks closer until she’s close enough to mirror your position—you kneel across each other as if she is willingly lowering herself to make you understand. “I don’t want to chain you to the throne.”

…Huh?

“So, I will give you a choice.”

notes my arle is definitely softer than canon Father but to me she would just.Do this. SORRY AGAIN FOR THE DELAY BAHHAHA this is so embarrassing if there are any mistakes IM SORRY ill fix it tmrw :) also akagi if ure seeing this i did see your askLMFAOOOO my answer is in the drafts for tmorrow love u guys

taglist still in the comments cus tumblr is being mean

[mxnhoo]

mwah! (k. sn)

ˋ "just bored, nothing else" ࿐ྂ ⁀➷ kim sunoo x reader genre : bro is your bestfriend, bestfriends to lovers (kinda..), inspired by that one sunoo live LOL, not proofread, kiss kiss kiss w/c : ~2.1k cly's note : finally back with something! god guys i'm so fucking sorry for being so inactive. i know i promised that i'd release my hyunjin fic very soon but i just had to write something else to get me back to writing altogether yknow? i hope you guys like this one, im insanely rusty and my kissing scenes are NAWT IT, but regardless hope ya'll enjoy it. wrote this all in one sitting, my ass hurts, if you enjoyed it, please do reblog like and comment! ANYWAYS GN.

border isn't made by me, credits to cafekitsune

The doorbell rang and you raised your eyebrows, looking at everything in sight as you patiently wait for the door to swing open. And it does after a while, and your bestfriend was heavily panting, his posture slightly slouched as he processed that you were here. "You're.. here," he managed to voice out through his heavy panting and you give him a small smile while your eyes lit up at him, "I am".

"Come in, kept you waitin', sorry," he spoke in short sentences, his voice still breathless as he stepped aside from the door, making space for you to walk in and you nod, stepping foot into his house and now being hit with the unfamiliar scent of his apartment. His new apartment. Sunoo had recently moved, and he invited you over because he wanted to show you around his house, catch up with you, y'know, stuff like that.

He was your best friend for a while, a few years, and as much as you admire him as a friend, you also wanted him real bad. Like reeal bad. He has stolen your heart since the first time you saw it and the boy's completely clueless about it, everything he does to you leaving you to question if he did it on purpose to hint something or if he was just being clueless.

He'd always invited you over to his house to hang, play games, stuff like that, but with him moving and his academic workload accumulating, he had been busy and had lesser time to see you, and today was finally the day you could see him after a few weeks. You glanced at the boy who watched you walk in and took the opportunity to ruffle his golden hair, voicing out a "How have you been?".

He smiles at you and slowly closes the front door behind you and locking it. "Good, just been a bit stressful lately, 'bout you?". You turned back to the sight of his new apartment, the same paintings that were hung on a different wall and old furniture that blended in with some new furniture you've never seen before.

"Great. Seems like you've finished moving in, how's it like so far?" you question, walking in more towards the living room, now setting yourself on the couch and looking at the light that was hanging above you.

"Been amazing so far! It gets tough without mama sometimes, but I can cope," he follows you but stands in front of you instead of sitting himself down, "Could I get you anything? Apple juice, orange, water". He remains silent before continuing, "Probably an apple juice right? Your favourite."

Your gaze fixates on him from the hanging lights, the image of him in your brain being refreshed as you took view of his facial features, his blonde hair slightly messy and his lips looking plump and kissable as ever. His lips slightly agape as he eventually started to catch his breath and his eyes looking down on you. You gulp at this sight of him, you almost forgot how beautiful looked and before you could go into a daze about how attractive he looked, you slowly nodded your head, a small smile forming on your face as he recalled your favourite joke, even if it was normal for best friends to remember these types of things.

"Okay, gotcha." was the last thing he said before walking towards his refrigerator. Your eyes followed his every move, the way he opened the refrigerator door, the way he pulled out a carton and closing the refrigerator before pouring the drink into a glass up that was conveniently placed on the counter near him. Your eyes lingered onto the magnets on his refrigerator when he closed it, recognising a photo that was nicely placed in the centre with 2 magnets at opposite corners.

"You still have that?" you pointed at the photo, and Sunoo turned his head over his shoulder, glancing at you before following where you were pointing to, and his eyes land on the photo. The corners of his mouth curl up before he placed the carton down, "Yeah, why wouldn't I?".

It was a photo of you and him in a party, sitting on a couch while posing with peace signs on both hands. It was when you two had first met when people had introduced you to each other or when you practically begged people to introduce you to him . The way you two clicked so fast is quite scary, and from then on you two were quite inseperable.

"I just think it's surprising," you reply, "Out of all the photos we have, you decide to put that one, y'know?".

"It's a special day," he instantly replies, turning his back with a cup of apple juice in his hand. He made his way to you and you raise your eyebrows at his response, "Special?". Your heart fluttered at the thought of him considering a day with you special, and you almost gave it away by putting the most stupid smile on your face, but it took every ounce of self-control inside you not to do so.

"It is the day we met after all," he sat beside you, offering you the cup of apple juice that you had requested. Your eyes slightly widened, and a small smile creeping onto your face as you register what he said. You hastily took the cup into your hand, "You care about those types of things? Like, first days, first meetings, stuff like that?". Everytime you meet him, he always seems to surprise you with something new with no fail, and that's one part you like so much about him.

He hummed, his approving sound accompanied with a small nod and you took a sip of the apple juice. The sweetness immediately hit your taste bud and you quickly swallowed, voicing out a quick 'Ahh' after the refreshing sip. Your eyes look at him and you realise he was already looking at you and it made your heart skip a beat.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" you chuckled, lowering the cup from your face as you flash him a grin. He quickly looked away, a faint smile on his face, "Just missed you".

There he goes again, saying things like that. Is he doing that with a purpose? Like to flirt with you, or is the boy just being genuine? Clueless?

You choked on your drink, his response being the last thing you expected and you shot him a bewildered look. He laughs at you choking, probably enjoying how he managed to get a reaction out of you and you glared at him.

"Are you just teasing me or what?" you questioned, placing your glass cup on the small coffee table in frornt of you.

"I am," he giggled, "I'm kinda bored so it's quite funny to tease you".

Oh yeah?

"Hey," you call out to him, your tone suddenly serious and his laughs die down, his eyes slowly moving to you "I'm bored too".

His eyebrows raised, feeling confused as to where this was going.

"Since we're bored, should we kiss?"

He chokes on the air, his hand flying to his mouth as he looked away from you. You gently patted his back as if you weren't the one who just dropped a 'let's-kiss' bomb on him, a smirk forming on your lips. Once he stopped coughing, he looked back at you, his cheeks a bright tint of pink and his eyes slightly widened, "W-what did you say?".

You looked at him with an amused expression, "I said, let's kiss." You honestly have no idea where this ounce of confidence came from, but if he wanna tease you, he can only get the taste of his own medicine right?

He started to stutter, his gaze being everywhere but on you as he started to scratch his neck, the way he was so flustered being so painfully obvious as you chuckle.

"I'm just kidding," you said. As much as you wanted to kiss him, your intentions were only to tease him back. Upon hearing you, his eyes shot to you, his eyes showing that he was slightly disappointed, "Why?".

"What do you mean?" you questioned. "Why were you 'just kidding'?" "What, do you want an actual kiss or something?" "Yeah.. Yeah, I do."

Now it was your turn to be flustered. You looked at him with widened eyes, your jaw quite literally dropping as you stared at him, taking a moment to process his reply. Sunoo wanted a kiss? And he just openly admitted it?

"Sunoo, quit the teasing, it's not funny at this point." "Who says I'm teasing? I'm being serious, Y/N".

Fucking hell, no fucking way Sunoo admitted that he wanted to kiss you. "O-okay wait, so you're serious about wanting a kiss from me, right?" you questioned, wanting confirmation and that you weren't just dreaming.

"Yes, I want a kiss from you, a kiss from your lips Y/N".

You blink at him repetitively before unconsciously standing up to your feet from the couch, your eyes still fixated on him.

"This feels so wrong," you nervously bit your lip and he sat up and reached out to gently hold your wrist, slightly pulling you towards him, "It isn't, don't worry".

"Do you really want this, Nu?" you spat out, suddenly feeling doubtful about everything and anxiety grew inside you. He gently tugged at your arm, causing you to look at him and he replied, "Been wanting this since forever".

If you said that your heart wasn't going to explode, you'd be lying. Your breathing rate picked up as your chest rises up and down hastily, and your gaze fall on his lips that were slightly parted. You looked back up at his eyes and you immediately notice his eyes on your lips. Your free hand cups his cheek, and you quickly voice out "Me too, Nu" before leaning in and closing the distance between the two of you.

His hand immediately released your wrist, his hands immediately finding comfort on your waist as he pulled you closer. The kiss was slow, passionate as both of your mouths moved in the same rhythm. You could feel him smile during the kiss and you slightly tilt his head to help you get more access to his mouth. Butterflies filled your stomach as you finally process that you were kissing your bestfriend, you were kissing Sunoo. The kiss was so passionate, and it was now evident that you two have been dying for this moment. The longing for each other added fuel to the fire, and your hands gradually make way to his hair, lightly pulling on it.

The surroundings around the two of you slowly start to seem non-existent as you both increasingly melt into each other. At this point of time, only you and Sunoo mattered, nothing else. He nibbled on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring your mouth as much as he can. Both of your tongues fought a fiery battle for dominance, and to no surprise, he won. The kiss was becoming so heated and intense, and before things could escalate, your hands quickly trail down to his chest and you slightly push him backwards, pulling away from the kiss.

Both of your chests rise up rapidly as your foreheads rest on each other. Eye contact was maintained as you both looked into each other's eyes. "Did.. did that just happen?" you question, still trying to catch your breath as you remain in shock as to what just happened.

"Fuck yeah, been wanting that for so long you don't even know," he confessed. A smirk forms on his lips as his eyes quickly flicker to your lips then back to your eyes. You chuckle as you close your eyes, your head leaning on him even more.

You pull away completely to sit on the spot beside him on the couch, your eyes still on him and you shook your head, "How long exactly?"

"Since I first met you." he responded, his answer once again never failing to surprise you.

"Mutual feeling then," you confessed, your breathing slowing down as you finally manage to catch your breath. He seemed shocked by the fact, but he definitely wasn't complaining.

"Since you care about first's so much, then consider that our first kiss, yeah?" you chuckled. "Sure thing, just know it won't be our last."

[tainsan]

misfits XIII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: self deprication but thats it I think :O, mentions of suggestive content

⇥ word count: 9.1k

⇥ a/n: hello guys, it has been a while. sorry for my inactivity and all the people waiting for new chapters, i havent been very well the past few months. i am okay though!! i hope you enjoy this chapter even though it is somewhat of a filler

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

Finishing typing the last sentence of your assignment, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. But even in that moment of triumph, the proposition from your roommates continues to occupy your thoughts. It had been a distraction throughout the day, and it had affected your ability to concentrate on your work.

The internal struggle you are experiencing is rooted in a mix of emotions. You yearned for the affection and love your roommates offered, wanting to be part of a relationship that felt incredibly meaningful. But doubts lingered in the back of your mind, like shadows in the corners of your thoughts.

‘Am I good enough?’ The question had haunted you throughout the day. You wondered if you were deserving of their affections, if you could truly measure up to their standards. Insecurity gnaws at you, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the admirers and fans your roommates had.

The cryptic message you had received added another layer of uncertainty. You were aware of the intense scrutiny and potential backlash that came with being in a relationship with the ‘famous’ campus group. The fear of facing hate and criticism from others weighs heavily on your mind, making you wonder if you have the strength to endure it.

Your curtains are open, allowing the dim, amber light from the streetlights outside to filter into your room. It's nighttime, and the glow of the streetlights casts soft, gentle patterns on your walls. The air in your room is crisp, and the faint aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Your laptop sits on your desk, its screen illuminating your face as you sit in quiet contemplation, lost in your thoughts and the gentle ambiance of the night.

Closing your laptop, your roommates' proposition still loomed large, a complex and challenging choice that required careful consideration. You knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that your feelings for them were genuine and deep. 

Suddenly, a knock resounds on your door.

"____, dinner is ready," San's voice reaches you through the wooden door.

You close your laptop and push back your chair, acknowledging his call. "Coming," you respond, but the weakness in your voice doesn't escape San's notice.

Stepping out of your room, you find San waiting for you in the hallway, his brow furrowed and concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle, as he takes in the change in your usual behaviour.

You pause for a moment, meeting San's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. It is clear that he sensed something was amiss, and you appreciated his concern. You manage a faint smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes as you offer a reassuring nod. 

"I'm fine," you say, a small white lie slipping past your lips. You didn't want to burden San with your worries or concerns, not when they were already so caring and supportive.

“You aren't good at lying, sweetheart.” San's expression remains filled with concern, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. 

"It's nothing, San," you say with a forced smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You walk past him into the dining room without making much eye contact, leaving him with a gnawing feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach.

San watches you go, his brows furrowing deeper with worry. He knows you well enough to sense when something is wrong, and tonight, something definitely doesn't seem right. Your usual enthusiasm and energy have been replaced by a quiet reserve that's completely out of character.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he can't help but feel a growing unease. San has come to know that you have a tendency to keep your worries to yourself, often trying to spare others from your burdens. But tonight, it feels different, and he can't shake the feeling that you might be going through something you're not sharing.

In the kitchen, he finds Hongjoong, who's busy with some last-minute preparations for dinner. San doesn't waste any time and approaches him, his voice low and filled with concern. 

"Hey, Joong, have you noticed anything strange about ____? She's been acting really off tonight."

Hongjoong, focused on his task, pauses and looks at San, his brows furrowing in response to the worried tone in San's voice. 

"Off? What do you mean?"

San briefly explains how you've been unusually quiet and distant, and how your smile seems forced. Hongjoong's expression shifts from curiosity to deep concern as he listens.

"Thanks for letting me know, San," Hongjoong says, his own worry now evident. He sets down the utensils he was holding and sighs, his thoughts consumed by concern for you. "We should keep an eye on her. Maybe after dinner, we can talk to her and see if there's anything she wants to share, just in case there’s something bothering her.."

Just as they're discussing their concerns, Mingi, who had been in the hallway and overhears their conversation, joins them with a troubled expression. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the gravity of the situation had drawn him in.

"What's going on, guys?" Mingi asks, his voice laced with worry. "Is something wrong with ____?"

San and Hongjoong exchange a glance, realising that their concerns had been overheard. Hongjoong explains the situation to Mingi, filling him in on your unusual behaviour and the sense of unease that had settled over the house.

Mingi's expression darkens with worry, as Hongjoong and San scurry to continue preparing for dinner, Mingi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing on him. He clears his throat, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"I've noticed it too," Mingi begins, his eyes darting between San and Hongjoong. “She was really quiet when we walked home today, usually she talks about her day in detail…”

Mingi’s voice trails off and Hongjoong notices he has more to say.

“What is it, Mingi?” He asks, concerned.

"I can’t help thinking about what she told us the other day, about her depression and the night up on the rooftop.”

San leans against the counter, his brow furrowed in sadness as he remembers your heart piercing words. 

“I'm worried that whatever's bothering her tonight might be related to that. I hope it's nothing too serious, but... I can't help but worry if it's making her have those thoughts again.” Mingi lowers his voice and walks towards the two, “her anxiety has been really bad recently, she had an extreme anxiety attack a while ago, I thought her mind had slipped completely."

San and Hongjoong exchange glances, their worry deepening as they absorb Mingi's revelation.

Hongjoong nods, his expression determined. "We need to talk to her, then. Make sure she knows we're here for her, no matter what."

Mingi and San both agree, and their shared worry for you becomes the driving force behind their preparations for dinner. They want tonight to be an opportunity for you to open up, to share whatever is weighing on your mind, and to remind you that you're not alone in this journey. Mental health is something they take seriously, and they're ready to offer their support in any way they can.

Seonghwa, who is seated beside you, shoots you a concerned glance as he notices your quietness as you enter the room, along with your distant expression. 

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts and offer Seonghwa a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just... thinking," you reply, your voice trailing off as you continue to wrestle with your internal turmoil.

Across from you, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho exchange worried glances, their usual lively banter subdued by the palpable tension that seems to emanate from you. They had all picked up on your unease the second you entered the room and were extremely concerned about your well-being.

Yeosang, who is sitting at the head of the table, clears his throat and speaks up, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern. "You've been really quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"

You glanced around the table at the faces of your roommates, each one displaying a mix of worry and care. They have been so patient and understanding, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the bonds you had formed with them over time. You appreciate their concern, yet it feels almost overwhelming for them to be questioning you.

Taking a deep breath, you realise that they will likely not drop the situation until they have an answer. 

"Just a busy day," you reply, attempting to brush off their concern with a forced smile. However, you know that your roommates can see right through your facade. 

"You can't lie very well," Jongho's soft voice speaks up from in front of you, his eyes holding a gentle concern that's difficult to ignore. You can feel the weight of his worry pressing down on you, and it only intensifies your own anxieties. 

Before you can respond, the atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably. San, Mingi, and Hongjoong enter the dining area, their faces reflecting the tension in the room. They exchange quick glances, and it's clear that the others have noticed your change in demeanour.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho keep their eyes on you, their worry palpable. They know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you, and it's evident that your previous statement didn't satisfy their concerns. They exchange subtle glances with each other, a silent form of communication that you're all too familiar with.

You continue to insist that you're okay, not wanting your concerns to burden them. You don't want them to know about the malicious messages you've been receiving, along with the fear of not being good enough. You were on the verge of saying yes to their proposition until those messages arrived, and they've left you feeling frightened and uncertain.

Despite your attempts to reassure everyone, they keep pressing you, their genuine concern for your well-being on full display. 

San leans in slightly closer, his eyes searching yours as he says, "love, we're just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself tonight."

Mingi adds, "Yeah, you're usually the one who brings the energy to the group. We hate to see you like this."

Hongjoong chimes in, "If something's bothering you, you can always talk to us. We're here for you."

Seonghwa nods in agreement, his expression soft and caring. "You don't have to carry your burdens alone, ____."

As their questions and probing looks continue, you can feel your patience wearing thin. You're caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to open up and fearing their reaction to your struggles. The thought of burdening them with your problems only adds to your anxiety.

Finally, you stand up, your irritation bubbling to the surface. "I said I'm fine, okay?" 

Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you can see the hurt in their eyes. You immediately regret your outburst, but the pressure of the situation has become too much to bear. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to…”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, the sounds of their worried whispers following you like a haunting melody.

Leaving the dining room, the tense atmosphere you've left behind still lingers in your mind. You're not sure where you're going or what you plan to do; you just need to escape the overwhelming concern of your roommates for a moment.

However, as you turn the corner towards your room, you unexpectedly bump into Yunho, who seems to be on his way out of his bedroom. His eyes immediately catch the distress on your face, and he can sense that something is wrong.

"Tiny, wait," Yunho calls out, his voice laced with worry as he takes a step towards you, trying to scan what is happening.

But you're already moving, your steps quick and determined. You can't handle the concern of another person right now, not when you're struggling to hold yourself together. With a mumbled apology, you hurriedly walk past Yunho, your heart racing with a mixture of emotions. 

Yunho watches you for a moment, concern etched across his face, before realising that you're not going to stop. He knows he can't force you to talk if you're not ready, but he can't shake the feeling that something is seriously bothering you. Yunho makes his way to the dining room, his heart heavy.

Back in your room, you shut the door behind you, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. You're not hungry anymore, and the thoughts of the messages and your own insecurities continue to haunt you. The room feels suffocating as you wrestle with your fears, wishing you could find a way to escape them and open up to your roommates about what's truly been bothering you.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, your roommates are clearly unsettled by your abrupt departure and your obvious distress. They exchange concerned glances, their worry for you evident in their expressions. 

Mingi is the first to break the silence, his voice filled with unease. "I'm assuming you all notice something is very wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung nod in agreement, both clearly affected by your behaviour. 

Seonghwa speaks up, his voice soft but laced with concern. "She's been distant all day. I thought it was just stress or something, but this is different."

San clenches his fists, his frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. "We should've noticed something was wrong. She's been dealing with something, and we didn't even realise it."

Wooyoung places a comforting hand on San's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "San, don't blame yourself. We all missed it. What's important now is figuring out what's going on and how we can help her."

Yunho chimes in, "You're right, Wooyoung. We need to support her. She's one of us, and we can't let her go through this alone."

Yeosang adds, "I agree. We think we should give her some space for now, but we can't just leave her like this."

Jongho, ever the caring and empathetic one, speaks softly, "Maybe we should send someone to talk to her. Make sure she's okay."

Hongjoong nods, considering the options. "I'll go."

Yeosang offers, "And bring her some food. She didn't eat anything, and skipping meals won't help."

With a unanimous decision to have Hongjoong talk to you, your roommates feel a mix of concern and hope. They know that Hongjoong's leadership and caring nature make him the right choice to approach you in this delicate situation. 

As they continue their meal, their thoughts are with you, hoping that you'll open up to Hongjoong and that whatever is troubling you can be resolved. They also feel a sense of unity and support among themselves, knowing that they'll be there for you no matter what. Hongjoong finishes his meal quickly, determined to check on you and make sure you're okay.

-

In the confines of your room, tears stream down your cheeks as you huddle beneath your sheets. The weight of your emotions presses heavily on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Negative thoughts swirl in your head, each one more self-doubting and destructive than the last.

“Why did I snap like that?” You question yourself, your voice barely a whisper amidst the tears. "They're going to think I'm a burden, that I can't handle this."

You bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as you contemplate the possibility that your roommates might stop liking you because of your outburst. It's a fear that gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone.

Thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness swirl relentlessly in your mind. You replay the dinner table scene over and over, each time emphasising how you snapped and how you failed to explain what's been troubling you. The fear of being a burden gnaws at your soul, and you're convinced that your roommates must be tired of dealing with your issues.

"Why can't I just be normal?" you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling with self-recrimination. "Why can't I handle this like everyone else?"

The tears continue to flow, unabated, as you feel like you're drowning in a sea of self-criticism. You wish you could push these thoughts away, but they cling to you like a relentless storm, obscuring any glimmer of hope or positivity.

In this moment, you long for someone to rescue you from the darkness, to pull you out of this suffocating abyss of negativity. You crave understanding and acceptance, but the fear that you'll never find it keeps you locked in a cycle of despair, feeling more alone than ever.

Just as you feel like you're being swallowed whole by your negative thoughts, a faint but unmistakable knock on your door breaks through the darkness. It's a sound that pierces through the gloom like a ray of light, a glimmer of hope that someone cares enough to check on you.

With a shaky breath, you sit up in your bed, wiping away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens slowly, and Hongjoong steps into the room, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His presence alone feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the midst of your emotional turmoil. The moment his eyes land on your tear stained face, his heart tugs in his chest, feeling as if it dropped to his stomach.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

You swallow hard, your throat still constricted from crying, but you manage to find your voice. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. It's just... I've been feeling overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to explain it."

Hongjoong takes a step closer, his eyes filled with empathy. "Shh, you don't have to apologise. We all have our moments, and we care about you. You're not a burden, ____."

"I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotions.

Hongjoong moves closer, his heart racing with the need to provide you with comfort. He stands before you at your bedside, hesitating for a moment before finally taking a seat beside you.

"Can I touch you?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with concern.

Looking at him, you see the glaze in his eyes. He looks nervous. You nod in response, granting him permission to offer his support. 

Hongjoong takes your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. His heart pounds in his chest, a silent declaration that he cares deeply about your well-being.

"You don't have to apologise, ____," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for each other, through the good times and the bad."

Your eyes meet his, and you can see the sincerity and compassion reflected in his gaze. It's a comfort to know that you have someone who genuinely cares about your struggles.

The contrast between the authoritative and sometimes stern Hongjoong you've seen before and the gentle, comforting side he's showing now is striking. It makes your heart flutter and leaves you feeling surprisingly vulnerable. 

You've always respected Hongjoong's leadership within your group of roommates. He exudes confidence and commands attention effortlessly. But seeing this softer, caring side of him makes you realise there's so much more to him than meets the eye. 

As he sits beside you, offering his support and understanding, you can't help but be drawn to him more than you have felt before. His caring demeanour is like a soothing remedy for your troubled soul, and you find yourself appreciating him even more.

"I appreciate you being here," you admit, your voice quivering with emotion.

Hongjoong responds with a warm, reassuring smile, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. 

"Anytime," he reassures you.

Hongjoong continues to offer you his comforting presence, yet he notices the lingering sadness in your eyes. He can tell that there's something more troubling you, something beyond what you've shared so far.

“I would appreciate knowing what is going on. We want to help you.”

You hesitate for a moment, struggling with whether or not to open up about the malicious messages. But his sincerity and the trust you've built in this vulnerable moment encourage you to share.

"It's…” you begin to talk, yet you feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your chest.

Hongjoong turns towards you, his worry evident as he scans your slightly shaking body.

“It’s okay ____.” 

“I want to say yes.” you say, “to be yours.”

The weight of your words settles in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Hongjoong's heart races, and the room feels charged with a new energy. Hearing you express your feelings for him so openly and sincerely is something he never expected, yet it's the most beautiful surprise he could have imagined.

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a deep, profound affection. He searches your gaze as if trying to read every emotion, every thought that lies beneath the surface. Yet when he sees the hurt expression on your face, he wonders what else you have to say.

“I don't know if I can.” 

The moment your words leave your lips, a heavy silence settles between you and Hongjoong. His expression shifts from one of hopeful anticipation to a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and hurt. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.

Hongjoong tries to find his words, but his voice catches in his throat, and for a brief moment, he can't meet your gaze. He looks away, his jaw clenched as he processes your rejection.

“I… I see.” he finally manages to say, “why… is that?”

“The messages," you finally admit, your voice shaky. 

Immediately Hongjoong is confused about your statement. He doesn't understand what the messages have to do with you rejecting him.

“What messages?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes welling up with tears as you try to explain. "I've been receiving some weird messages… about all of you.”

“What do you mean? What do they say?” 

“Well, I only got one, but it was strange.” 

You show Hongjoong the message, "have fun with my boys…" and you witness as Hongjoong's eyes narrow in recognition, and his fists clench even tighter. 

It feels as if his world is crashing down on him as he pieces together the puzzle. Hongjoong's expression morphs into one of anger, his jaw tensing as he absorbs your words. The protective instinct within him flares, and he clenches his fists, visibly seething. He knows exactly who sent the messages. Despite his rising anger, he remains composed in front of you, not wanting to further burden you with his own emotions.

"It's okay, just ignore that message," Hongjoong says, and though he attempts to conceal his anger, you can sense the underlying frustration in his tone.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you press, "Hongjoong?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Don't let other people's opinions define our relationship. It's about us and no one else."

“Hongjoong, I’m scared of starting a relationship with you guys.”

Hongjoong's expression softens as he senses your vulnerability. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I understand," he replies softly. "Starting a relationship with us might seem daunting, but remember that we care about you deeply. We'll be here every step of the way, and you don't have to face anything alone. Please don't worry about what others think. It is just us in this, no one else."

His words provide you with a sense of security, and you begin to realise that you have a strong support system with the boys.

You let out a sigh, your worries spilling out. "It's just... I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you guys. You're all so amazing, and I don't want to hold you back or bring any problems into your lives." voicing your worries, a wave of self-doubt begins to wash over you. 

Before you can delve further into your anxieties, Hongjoong moves with a surprising swiftness. He places a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes, effectively silencing your anxious thoughts. His touch is feather-light yet firm, a reassuring gesture that instantly grabs your attention.

A split second later, your breath catches as he leans down, his warm lips tenderly pressing against your forehead. The kiss feels like a soft promise, an unspoken reassurance that sends shivers down your spine. You're momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection, your heart racing in your chest.

Without any hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace is warm, secure, and filled with an undeniable tenderness that envelopes you entirely. It's as if his arms are a sanctuary, a place where your worries and doubts can find refuge.

"My treasure," he murmurs, his voice a gentle whisper against your ear. "You are more than good enough. You're unique and special in your own way. We care about you for who you are, not for any other reason. Please don't doubt yourself. We're here because we want to be, and we'll support you through everything. We love you."

In his embrace, you find refuge and a sense of belonging that you've been longing for. The weight of your worries slowly dissipates, replaced by the comforting warmth of Hongjoong's presence and the knowledge that you are cherished just as you are.

In his embrace, you begin to feel the weight of your worries slowly dissipate, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and acceptance.

"You love me?" You pose the question, the words hanging in the air, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Hongjoong looks at you, his expression a blend of surprise and realisation, as if he's just spoken without fully thinking through his words.

Chuckling softly, he pulls away from you, a confident and sincere look on his face. 

"Yes, I do," he affirms, his voice steady and filled with genuine emotion, yet you can see he is nervous for your response.

“Hongjoong, I think I love you too.” you admit, your face flushing hot. 

“Fuck ____.” Hongjoong swears through his teeth, then looks away from you. You look at him confused, your eyes wide.

“What?” You ask, confused at his reaction, scared of what he will say.

Hongjoong turns to glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours, and in that moment, he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of losing his mind and sanity. 

Your wide, doe-like eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of mischief, hold an inexplicable power over him. It's as though they can peer into the depths of his soul, unravelling the layers he's tried to keep hidden. He cannot seem to get over how adorable and innocent you look. The way your words have such an impact on him leaves his mind swirling with many thoughts.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to hold back.”

His unexpected words leave you utterly shocked, the abruptness of the confession catching you off guard. Yet, the way they make you feel is nothing short of indescribable.

A rush of heat surges through you, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, and spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your cheeks flush as a wave of flustered embarrassment washes over you.

But beneath the shock and embarrassment, a more primal, intoxicating sensation takes hold. You feel an undeniable surge of desire, a raw, visceral attraction that courses through your veins. Your heart races in response to the unexpected intensity of the moment. Hongjoong's words have an electrifying effect on you, leaving you in a state of arousal that you can't quite ignore. It's as if the room has suddenly grown hotter, and every inch of your skin tingles with a newfound awareness of his presence.

In this moment of vulnerability and desire, you find yourself torn between your instincts and your rationality. His confession has unleashed a torrent of emotions that you never expected to confront, and the magnetic pull between you and Hongjoong is impossible to deny.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper, your fingertips on fire as you play with your clothes.

“We should discuss the relationship with the boys when you are ready with your answer.” Hongjoong says, quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, a profound realisation washes over you: there is seemingly nothing in this world capable of undermining the unbreakable bond you share with the boys. After years of yearning for one another's company, you are now reunited, and it feels as though no external influence could ever drive a wedge between you. While you are fully aware that maintaining relationships can be challenging, with the boys, it all seems effortless. There's a natural understanding between you, a deep knowledge of each other that makes everything feel remarkably smooth and naturally occurring.

Amidst your personal struggles with mental health, a lingering concern lingers in your mind; the worry that these challenges might adversely affect your relationship. However, the boys have consistently demonstrated their unwavering support, proving time and again that they not only embrace your struggles but are also somewhat professional at navigating such turbulent waters. Their understanding and expertise in handling these issues have become a reassuring pillar of strength, reinforcing the belief that your bond can withstand any storm that life may throw your way.

“I want to say yes.” 

Hongjoong's eyes, once covered with nervousness, now lit up with an intensity you had never seen before. It was as if a constellation of stars had suddenly burst into existence within his gaze, filling the room with their luminous glow.

“Come, we need to talk to the boys.” 

Hongjoong's touch was gentle as he clasped your hand, coaxing you off the bed. You yielded to his pull, your feet finding the floor. But there was something lingering, something unsaid that held you back. You tugged him slightly, your grip on his hand urging him to pause. Confusion knit his brows, and his concern was palpable in his searching gaze.

“You don't have to hold back.” you whisper, with some fear as to his reaction, yet you start to feel confident upon seeing Hongjoong’s flustered state.

"Doll," Hongjoong whispers, his voice a seductive murmur as he closed the distance between you. His desire was evident in the way his eyes smouldered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with promise, and they caught you off guard.

"Let's talk to the boys," he continued, his tone laced with anticipation, "and when the time is right, I’ll show you everything I have been waiting to do for years.”

The boldness of his statement sends a rush of arousal coursing through your body. It is as if a dormant fire had been ignited, and your heart races at the thought of what awaits. The anticipation of sharing your desires and fantasies with him, of finally giving in to the passion that had simmered between you for so long, leaves you breathless with longing.

“Let’s go.”

Hongjoong walks behind you as you step back into the kitchen where your roommates' eyes immediately turn toward you. There's a mix of relief and concern in their expressions, like they've been holding their breath until your return.

Wooyoung, who's drying dishes with Yeosang, flashes a warm smile your way, but his eyes are filled with concern. Seonghwa and Yunho, chatting at the counter, both turn towards you with wide smiles on their faces, but their gazes are searching, trying to read your mood. Mingi, Jongho, and San, who are seated at the island, exchange subtle glances, and it's clear they've been discussing something among themselves.

It's like a silent symphony of emotions playing out in their eyes, and you can sense their collective concern hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, realising that it's time to address the situation, to clear the air and let them in on your feelings, just as you've allowed Hongjoong to do. Before you can speak, they collectively pause what they're doing, waiting for you to make the first move, to share your thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry guys, for rushing out like that…” You begin to say, yet before you can continue, a chorus of ‘It’s okay’ and ‘don't worry’s sound out, filling you with an intense feeling of gratitude.

"I, uh, wanted to say something," you begin, your voice carrying a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The room falls into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and affection.

Taking a deep breath, you look towards Hongjoong, who gives you a reassuring nod, making you feel more confident as you continue, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want you all to know how special you are to me. I think we should give it a try."

Around you, the boys freeze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from disbelief to sheer elation. Your words land in their hearts like a gentle caress, and the impact was profound. It was as if a wave of pure joy had washed over them, leaving them floating in a sea of happiness. Their faces light up with radiant smiles, their eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. The room seemed to shimmer with an aura of warmth and contentment that only your words could bring.

Seonghwa, the embodiment of tenderness, takes a step closer, his voice filled with emotion. "You have no idea how much those words mean to us," he admits, his eyes glistening.

San, who had dreamt of this moment for years, is overwhelmed with gratitude. "I can’t believe this is happening," he said, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Yunho, the eternal optimist, can’t stop grinning. "This feels way better than I imagined!" he exclaimed under his breath, yet you manage to catch it, causing your heart to race even more than it already was.

Jongho, the pillar of strength, looks at you with profound appreciation. "Thank you for choosing us," he says, his voice steady with emotion.

Yeosang, usually reserved, couldn't help but express his delight. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he admitted, his eyes shining.

Mingi and Wooyoung, the jokers of the group, let out joyful laughs, not being able to speak any words, their happiness immeasurable.

Hongjoong, whose emotions were always close to the surface, openly shares his feelings. "I can't express how happy I am right now," he confesses, his voice quivering with emotion.

They surround you, their words and expressions convey the depth of their joy. It feels like a moment of pure happiness, a shared understanding that something beautiful is beginning. With hearts full of love and excitement, you know that your journey with these incredible individuals was just starting, and it was going to be an extraordinary adventure filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

“Boys, back up a little,” Hongjoong speaks out, his usual tone of authority present once more as he realises all eight of them huddled around you, making you feel slightly vulnerable. 

The seven boys gathered around you pick up on your tenseness. It wasn't that you minded their presence in your personal space; in fact, their company was something you cherished. It was the attention focused solely on you that made you feel a bit small, like the centre of the universe in that moment. 

San, always attuned to your feelings, senses your unease. He takes a step back with the others and speaks gently, "Hey, we're here because we care about you, but we don't want you to feel overwhelmed. We can take things at your pace."

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind your tenseness, realising the reasoning for it.

“So how is this going to work?” You manage to ask, not quite sure as to how a relationship with nine people is going to work out. 

Sitting down at your usual place at the table, you notice the boys rush to their own seats also.

“It's just like a normal relationship really.” Hongjoong answers your question as he takes a seat down in front of you.

“Just there’s a lot of love going around, I suppose.” Jongho adds, “it’s not too different to a monogamous relationship.”

“You probably will go on a lot of dates,” Seonghwa jokes, chuckling gently.

“And receive lots of affection,” Yeosang says quietly from his seat, and you can’t help but notice the blush covering his face. 

“But like every relationship, you are allowed to say no to us, in any way. If you aren't comfortable with something, don't be scared to let us know. We would hate to ever make you uncomfortable or upset.” Yunho says, a reassuring smile on his face, yet you can tell his words are important to him and the others around him, as they nod and agree to Yunho.

“If you have any questions don't feel scared to ask, but remember, this isn't a contract, it's a relationship, just go with the flow. You can do whatever you would like, and… leave whenever you want.”  Hongjoong says, his words slightly sorrow, which you are quick to reassure him.

“We don't need to think of that now, I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.” You quickly say, not wanting to see the hurt expression on Hongjoong’s face any longer.

Little did you know, your short but heartfelt statement brought joy not only to Hongjoong but to all eight men surrounding you. Their smiles grew wider, and their eyes shimmered with happiness as they soaked in your words.

“Like most relationships though,” Hongjoong begins, catching everyone’s attention, “although there are eight of us, not that I think you would ever even think of it, you can't be with anyone outside of this group. I want you to fully understand that.”

“Of course, I’m in a relationship with you eight, not anyone else and I think cheating is for sore losers who aren't happy with their partners but can't find the guts to break up with them because they are scared of losing the only person who cares about them in their lives.” You quickly cut off your rant, upon seeing the confused, yet agreeing expressions on the men around you.

"Damn girl, did someone hurt you?" Wooyoung playfully says, his tone light and teasing. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning as he sees your slightly hurt expression and his heart twangs with guilt. It wasn't just a casual remark; someone had, indeed, broken your trust, and the implications of that hit all the men around you like a ton of bricks.

Wooyoung’s playful expression shifts to one of concern and protectiveness in an instant. His eyes darken with a mix of anger and empathy as he realises that you have experienced pain and betrayal.

The other members, too, sense your change in behaviour . They exchange glances, silently communicating their readiness to support you.

San, who is observing you very intently, caught on to the change in your demeanour. He leans closer, his face reflecting his own concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

“It was a while ago, I'm rather glad it was a short lived relationship, he turned out to be such a dick.”��

“Does he go to our school?” Yunho asks, his eyes narrowed in some form of mixture of jealousy and anger.

“I am not going to answer that question.” You chuckle, “but don't worry about anything, I only have eyes for you guys now. It was one of my first relationships anyways, so I’m still quite new to the whole affection thing.” 

"Just how experienced are you?" Wooyoung can't resist teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye and a playful smirk on his face as he witnesses your flustered state.

San, standing beside Wooyoung, couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing. He playfully slaps Wooyoung on the back of the head, a gentle reprimand for his impulsive curiosity. However, it was evident that San, too, was curious about your past relationships.

The other members exchange knowing glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and interest. They were already accustomed to each other's past experiences, and your life is now intricately entwined with theirs, they can’t help but wonder how far you have gone into a relationship with someone. Naturally, they are curious about your past and the experiences that have shaped you.

It takes you a second to regain your composure, and you realise you could make some fun out of it while you're here. 

"Well, let's just say, I know what I like and what I want to try," you reply with a clearly suggestive undertone, a playful glint in your eye. Your words hang in the air, and it does not go unnoticed by the men surrounding you. Their eyes darken with desire as they absorb the implications of your statement. You hear a few sharp intakes of breath from around you, and you can't quite believe how much your words impacted the males around you.

In this moment, a tangible tension fills the room, the air crackling with unspoken desires and fantasies. Each of them felt a surge of longing, their own desires awakening in response to your sudden openness.

Hongjoong's usually composed demeanour wavers for a brief moment, his restraint tested by the allure of your words. Along with your words in the bedroom earlier, it seems like a potent mix that you are almost teasing him with.

San's eyes gleam with a playful challenge, as if he is ready to explore those desires with you. Desperately wanting to find the time with you to show you everything he’s been dreaming of for years.

Yunho feels a rush of heat, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities your words hold. The kiss you two shared reaches the front of his mind and he has a hard time hiding his excitement as he imagines what would happen if, next time, you don't stop.

Yeosang's usual calm exterior betrays a hint of excitement, a silent acknowledgment of the passionate connection that has been ignited.

Mingi's playful grin hints at his willingness to partake in such adventures. Wooyoung's creative mind is already racing with ideas of how to indulge in your fantasies. 

Jongho, although rather inexperienced himself, finds himself wanting to explore his own desires alongside you.

Seonghwa's dark gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of intensity and anticipation, his sultry gaze causing butterflies to rush through your stomach, his lustful look making your heart beat rise. 

In that charged moment, you were the epicentre of their desires, your words kindling a fire within each of them. It was a shared understanding that there were unexplored realms of passion waiting to be discovered, and they were eager to embark on that journey with you.

The room seemed to shrink as their longing gazes remained fixed on you, a silent invitation to explore the depths of desire and pleasure together. It was a promise of intimate moments yet to come, a tantalising glimpse into a future filled with passion and connection.

It is Yeosang’s voice who breaks the silence, although it is shaky, he holds some sort of power as he speaks, his brow raising slightly, “and what would those be?” 

Feeling awfully in control of the situation makes you feel somewhat powerful. With a cheeky grin, you raised your eyebrows in response to Yeosang's curiosity. 

"I guess you'll have to find out," you teased, your tone laced with playful mystery.

Your words hung in the air like a tantalising promise, and they didn't go unnoticed by the men around you. Arousal simmered beneath the surface, and each of them found their thoughts running wild, their desires ignited by the prospect of discovering the depths of your desires.

“Holy shit,” you hear San groan under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

With a mischievous giggle, you gracefully rise from your seat, a sense of satisfaction in the air. Playfully, you send a wink in their direction, a silent promise of more exciting moments to come. 

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you say. With a playful skip in your step, you make your way to the confines of your bedroom, leaving the men behind, their thoughts still simmering with desire.

Disappearing into your room, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. The playful banter had ignited a passionate spark among you all, and the possibilities for the future seemed endless. You knew that the intimate adventures awaiting you would be filled with desire, pleasure, and a deep connection that bound you together.

Wooyoung and Mingi quickly rush to stand, wanting to follow you into the confines of your room, to see exactly what you meant by your suggestive words. Seonghwa and Yunho shuffle in their seats, restless, also wishing to follow you to your bedroom. Yeosang, and San share a knowing glance, their faces both a deep shade of red. San chuckles to himself, clearly affected by your words, yet he finds the humour in your playful teasing, bringing a smile to his face. 

Just as Wooyoung is about to make a dash for the exit, Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, stern and authoritative. Without even sparing a glance at the two behind him, he asks them to sit down. His commanding tone brings both Mingi and Wooyoung to an abrupt halt, and they immediately sense the underlying seriousness in Hongjoong's demand.

Once again, Hongjoong's leadership qualities are not to be underestimated, and the weight of his words hung in the air, stopping any hasty actions in their tracks. His stern demeanour makes it clear that there was something important he wishes to address, and it has the full attention of those present. Mingi and Wooyoung exchange a quick glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

“What is it, Joong?” Seonghwa asks, his concern showing as he sees the furrowed expression on Hongjoong’s expression.

"I didn't want to bring the mood down, we should be happy right now," Hongjoong began, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of his unease, before continuing, "I think Ryu knows about ___."

Mingi's reaction was immediate, and he couldn't contain his shock and anger. "What the fuck?" he exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.

The collective mood among all the men took a nosedive, plunging from happiness into a pit of uncertainty and concern.

San, always ready to protect and defend, stands up from his seat, his initial confusion giving way to anger. "What? What makes you think that?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.

Hongjoong's revelation had thrown a dark shadow over the previously joyful atmosphere, and now, questions and fears raced through their minds. Gently Yeosang grabs San’s hand, momentarily calming his anger, although Yeosang himself feels as if he is seeing red.

“When I went to check on her, among other things, she told me the reason she was upset was because she received a message from someone.”

“What, from who?” Yeosang questions, his voice slightly sharper than usual, it does not go unnoticed by the seven around him.

“You can make a guess…” Hongjoong replies, looking down at his fingers which are picking a piece of dead skin on his nail. 

“Are you sure it is from her?” Seonghwa begins, his hand resting on Hongjoong’s hand, stopping him from the bad habit of picking skin. 

“In the message was the heart, with the eight, I’ve only ever seen her use that.”

“That’s her then.” Yunho says, his teeth gritted, looking forward to nothing in particular.

The tension in the room escalates as the seven men around Yunho struggle to process this unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Ryu's involvement casts a dark cloud over the previously uplifted atmosphere.

The unknown intentions of Ryu gnaw at their minds, leaving them feeling uneasy and apprehensive. While they had been able to protect you from Ryu's potential interference within the confines of their home, this new development has thrown a wrench into their plans. Things had suddenly become far more complicated than they had ever imagined.

Each of them wore expressions of concern, their thoughts racing as they contemplated the potential implications of Ryu's knowledge. The unspoken question hung heavily in the air: What was Ryu planning, and how would it affect you?

“Should we have waited until we knew Ryu was gone before we started our advances on ____?” Mingi questions, more to himself than to anyone else.

“It’s our relationship, another person shouldn't have a say in what we can and can't do with our girlfriend.” Jongho exclaims, his fists tightening in his lap.

"I get what you're saying, Jongho," Wooyoung exclaimed in response to Jongho's statement. He can empathise with Jongho's concerns, but he couldn't entirely agree with his viewpoint.

The situation was undeniably complex, and their protective instincts were at odds with the desire to see you happy and free from any past entanglements. It was a delicate balance they had to strike, and finding a resolution that would ensure your well-being while allowing you to pursue happiness was a challenge.

Wooyoung's voice holds a note of understanding as he continues, "But we can't just ignore this, can we? If Ryu does something, it means our guard might not be enough. We need to figure out what's going on and how it might affect ___." His concern for your safety was evident in his words, and he is determined to address the issue head-on.

Hongjoong's voice is contemplative as he speaks, his eyes reflecting his own internal analysis. "You're right," he admits, addressing the group. "We were excited when she forgave us, so we let our guard down."

The admission hung in the air, a collective acknowledgment that their happiness had, in a way, overshadowed the need for continued vigilance. It was a humbling realisation that their happiness with you had momentarily clouded their judgement.

Hongjoong continues, his tone firm and determined, "But that doesn't mean we can't rectify it. We need to be cautious, not just for our sake but for hers too. We won't let Ryu's presence threaten ___ or our relationship."

His words carry a sense of resolve, and it is clear that Hongjoong is committed to protecting you and ensuring that nothing would jeopardise the bond you had all worked so hard to rebuild.

The weight of Hongjoong's determination and leadership settles in the room, and the tension among the boys seems to ease slightly. There was a shared understanding among them that when Hongjoong took charge of a situation, there was little need to worry.

Hongjoong's ability to provide guidance and assert control over challenging circumstances is a source of comfort and reassurance for the group. His leadership has always played a crucial role in navigating the complexities of their relationships and disagreements in the past and the trust that he will ensure your safety and happiness.

In that moment, their trust in their captain’s abilities becomes a source of strength, a reminder that they are a unified front ready to face any challenges that come their way. The collective determination to protect you and preserve the chemistry you have found together was unwavering, and they knew that, under Hongjoong's guidance, they can face whatever lies ahead.

“Do you have any idea what she might want?” Yeosang asks gently after a few moments of reflective silence.

The seven men turned their collective gaze to Hongjoong, who had a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke. "She said that we are 'her boys,' not ___'s," he explains, his voice tinged with concern. He raises a hand to gently massage his temples, a sign of the weight of the situation.

Mingi's reaction is immediate and passionate. "That's insane! She was the one who hurt us. How could she possibly think that we belong to her?" His voice rises with anger and frustration.

San tries to diffuse the situation. "Calm down, Mingi. We don't want ___ to know what's happening." He emphasises the importance of keeping you in the dark for the time being.

Wooyoung, however, is torn. "That's stupid? ___ should know what's going on," he exclaims, his concern for your well-being outweighing his desire to keep you unaware of the situation.

The room is filled with conflicting emotions and opinions as they grapple with the complex web of feelings and loyalties surrounding Ryu's unexpected return and her claim over them. 

Hongjoong's voice remains steady as he reasons with the boys, his calm demeanour a contrast to the escalating tension in the room. "If the situation escalates, we will tell her," he asserts firmly, emphasising the need for caution and measured responses.

While his decision received some negative reactions from the others, Hongjoong stood his ground, resolute in his determination to prioritise your safety and well-being. He understood the gravity of the situation and believed that, for the time being, it was best to shield you from unnecessary worries. It was a difficult decision, but he believed it was the right one to make.

"Try to focus on the positives right now, boys," Hongjoong encourages, his voice carrying a note of reassurance, "___ is finally ours. Let's lighten up a little."

Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t go unnoticed. He speaks with a gentle tone and tries to muster a warm smile, which some of the boys returned more easily than others. Despite the lingering concerns and unease, there is a shared understanding among them.

His words are a reminder of the joy and happiness that have come with your forgiveness and acceptance. While the challenges they face are significant, the boys share a deep sense of happiness knowing that you were officially a part of their lives.

Amidst the uncertainties, their bond with you remained a source of strength, and they are determined to cherish the positive moments and continue building a future together.

----

⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su @theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp ​@liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @lilbugs-things

im sorry to say but the taglist is closed from now onwards.

[themodernmarriage]

Orgasm Control: A List of Benefits

I get a lot of questions about the benefits for me and for my husband about the benefits of structured orgasm control as part of addressing the issue of “mismatched libidos” in heterosexual relationships. For many people, as soon as they make a start on this journey, a range of benefits become clear pretty quickly. So, in this case, I believe the requests for providing a list benefits are for people who are still in the process of deciding if this approach is for them.

The short answer is - yes, your life (and sex life) will change for the better. Give it a try.

The second short answer - yes, use a chastity cage. While it is possible to practise orgasm control without one, the benefits for you, but especially for him, of using a chastity cage are exponential. Perhaps the list of benefits below will elucidate why:

Control vs Neglect

In most heterosexual, long-term relationships, women have a significantly lower sex drive than their male partners. Men have less sex than they would ideally like. In this sense, marriage means that females control the allocation of sex. Already. However, without a deliberate structure and communication around the element of this control, the mismatched libido is interpreted by the male as ‘neglect’ or the feeling of not being desired. This can drive the male to pornography, masturbation or ‘nagging for sex’, which puts unwanted pressure on you, and is a serious turn-off.

When orgasm control is discussed and structured as part of the couple’s sexual dynamic, the male’s perception moves from being ‘neglected’ to ‘controlled’. The latter is highly arousing, and the sexual dynamics flips on its head. By controlling his sexual release, you as a couple are indicating that it has a ‘value’ far greater than when he is simply free to masturbate at will. His greatest physical reward, and the oxytocin, bonding, dopamine rush that follows becomes linked to you, not to Pornhub.

More Sex, More Orgasms (For YOU)

Orgasm control is about controlling the MALE orgasm, not yours. The worst thing you can do is be sexually inactive between release windows. Rather just call the whole thing off now - it will not work.

Rather, you can and should have frequent orgasms - and he will love giving them to you. My partner and I have sex frequently outside of his release window. I unlock him and we have standard sex - the only difference is that he is not allowed to cum. He goes slower, uses toys, users his hands and tongue - whatever he needs to do to follow the rules - and I can deliciously and *selfishly* enjoy it. Once we're done, he is locked back up until next time.

This is what he expects and desires - don't feel bad for one second. Stop thinking in the old school "Sex is about the male being satisfied" mindset. It is mindblowing for him in every way - both mentally and physically.

Reigniting the Desire

As has been said on this blog before, males are programmed to ‘move on’ emotionally after ejaculating. Orgasm leads to a spike in prolactin which is a ‘shut off valve’ for intimacy and sexual desire. Frequent masturbation is therefore a total intimacy killer. Controlling the male orgasm leads to increases in oxytocin focused on you as his key objects of desire. He is heavily sexually aroused and his desire for you will skyrocket. Now, he is fully aware that he can’t do anything about it until his scheduled release, so it translates as increased intimacy, and increased energy for other things.

No Pressure for Sex

Modern marriages are defined by women ‘feeling bad’ every time they are not up for sex. The perception of old-world society is that it is the women’s duty to provide sex whenever the male desires. With chastity and orgasm control, this is completely reversed. Sex is not the goal, and the ongoing sexual rush of the denial is what the male will savor the most.

We have PIV (penis in vagina) sex frequently. Most often this is outside of his release window, so he knows that he is not allowed to orgasm, and after I am finished, he is re-locked. It's a mind-screw and a challenge for him, but he absolutely LOVES it!

Chastity is Effortless

With him in chastity, I can do all of this without really having to do much. A bit of attention here and there, a bit of teasing and he is at a constant, positive simmer. It is about communication, structure and commitment.

Release Days are Effortless

When I do allow him an orgasm, this too can be as effortless as you could possibly imagine. On release days, his excitement is so high that bringing him to climax can take as little as a few seconds. This is about “release” - after weeks locked up he will not be able to last very long. Sometimes he will cum just by taking the cage off... In which case, job done 😂.

I usually start by having him bring me to orgasm as usual - with his tongue, hands or a toy. Now it's his turn (for once!).

First decision - do you want him to have his release while in the cage or unlocked?

Caged: it's about balls and nipples. I recommend one hand plays with his nips while the other pulls, squeezes and strokes his balls. Then begin tapping his balls at a regular rhythm, building intensity slowly. Tell him he has permission to cum... Keep tapping and in a few minutes he will come to the edge. He is to ask permission one more time before he about to cum. As he is coming, tap / slap harder until he is finished.

Unlocked: Take off the cage, grip his balls tightly and pull them away from his body, back and forth. Try to touch his nub as little as possible. At most, use a slow, infrequent stroke with a single finger from the base of his nub up the shaft to the tip. He must ask permission just as he is about to cum. At this point, tighten your grip and pull his balls away from his body and hold them there until he is finished.

Tip 1: If you do unlock him for release, always relock directly after he orgasms. This significantly reduces the "drop" he will experience after orgasm and will push him through the 2-3 grouchiness period much smoother. He loves it if I put the cage on him, but if you prefer he locks himself, straight after his release, firmly tell him that it's time to go back in the cage.

Tip 2: Feed it to him! Tell him to clean up with his tongue or at least lick it off your hand. Recycling is important 😂.

Cages Look Sexy

I think of chastity cages as jewellery which is very aesthetically pleasing. Unlocked penises flop about, lean to one side, grow and shrink unpredictably and are often pretty badly manicured. When locked in a cage, everything is so neat. Males will need to do a bit of gardening down there to make it as comfortable as possible. Everything is held in place. His nub is encased and immobilized. His balls are held tight and presented forward. He will want to wear tight underwear or swimwear for comfort purposes, which presents such a neat little package. Every time I see the cage I am reminded that he is doing this for me, and I get a little shiver down my spine. It just looks better, and I love it!

Arousal on Demand

Males think about sex all the time. The vast majority of sexual thoughts and corresponding erections go completely ignored. When locked in chastity, these sexual thoughts (and erections) are contained, and are linked to you as the keyholder. This is highly arousing for the male, and will feel like direct attention from you - even though you may not even be in the same postcode. The cage works for you full-time, and is there whenever the male is aroused. Extremely powerful!

Discipline

The chastity cage helps males to stick to the rules. Most males masturbate significantly more than you will ever imagine. For the vast majority, they will NEVER have gone 21 days or more without masturbating since they first discovered it in their teens. With a cage, masturbation is simply off the table. They must direct this energy elsewhere. Which leads to :

Weight Loss and Conditioning

All of this extra energy must go somewhere, and in most cases, this is directed to physical exercise and conditioning. Many women report that time in chastity has lead to significant weight loss and body sculpting in their males. Motivation and drive are seriously tangible chastity benefits that you will notice as little as 7 days in.

Service

Oxytocin is the courting hormone. Increases in this wonder drug caused by orgasm control will often lead to a far more focused, attentive and service-oriented mentality. Whether conscious on his part or not, I notice a happier, more helpful male, with a higher attention-to-detail and eagerness to please. Use this as you see fit!

A Better Sex Life

Most importantly, chastity and orgasm denial will improve your sex life. Sex does not equate to penetration anymore, although it certainly can if you wish. Unlock him at any point in the schedule for sex of you're keen for it - it's just that outside of the release window, he will have to find a way not to orgasm. You are the focus until his release date!

Most importantly, "sex" in long-term marriages is about sexual interaction - intimacy, honesty, communication and care. This is why you are doing this in the first place. Rewire your thinking as a couple, and become a highly engaged, balanced and aligned sexual partnership.

Conclusions

These are just some of the many benefits that are associated with the exciting journey of male orgasm control. Drop some more in the comments and I can add to this ever-growing list.

[melissa-kenobi]

Which One?

[PS5 Peter Parker x Reader]

A/N: hii, i know I've been so inactive on here :( and I'm sorry anyways I absolutely adore PS5 Spidey and have been wanting to write for him, so here we go xx

Summary: Peter is forced to make a choice.

***

"MJ! Where's-? Harry..." Peter says breathlessly as he watches MJ sat opposite what used to be his best friend. Her face scared for whatever it was Harry had planned.

"Pete... you look tense." Harry smirks as he reaches out with a tendril. "Coffee?"

"We need to talk." Peter says as he glances between MJ and Harry.

"Ah-ah, not yet. We're still waiting on one more person. Your girlfriend." Harry says your name with a grin on his face. A tendril sneaks around MJ, pulling a seat out for Peter to sit down. "Sit. She's not here yet."

"No. Harry, you leave her out of this!" Peter says, fists clenched, but takes a seat. "She's got nothing to do with this. It's between you and me. Let her and MJ go."

Harry ignores Peter. "You must get tired, making the world a better place every... single day! But I can help. All you have to do is let me."

MJ glances at Harry, her face worried for her best friend, "Harry, this isn't you!"

"Wrong! This is the real me." Harry says almost comically, his eyebrow furrowing as he looked at Peter. He stands up, pushing the table away as he looks at Peter with fury.

The keys in the door rattle as it squeaks open and you walk in, face flushed almost as if you'd ran over here. "Hey Pete- I got your text, what hap-?" You were cut off as you took in the scene before you.

"Harry?" You say equally shocked and surprised that he was here. "I- I didn't know you were back- Pete you never mentioned it."

You quickly scan the room as you notice MJ sat in the corner. Peter, in his Spidey suit, sat next to her, jaw locked in anger as he looked at you hopelessly. MJ looked scared out her mind as she looked at you, then back to Harry, praying you would help them.

"Coffee?" Harry asks as he walks over to you, gently guiding you to sit next to him as he pours you some coffee. "We were having a lovely little chat about Peter sharing some of the load."

Peter's fist clenched in anger as he watched Harry touch you. "Don't do this Harry."

"Do what Pete?" Harry asked, lips turning into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow curiously. His hands placed on your shoulders as he gently pushed you to sit down. "I'm making her a coffee. Sugar, darling?"

"Oh, no thank you." You say, making eye contact with Pete opposite as you gently lifted your taser to show him. You watched as Peter's eyes widened and he tried to shake his head. Harry stands behind you, hands on your shoulders as he speaks. You shuffle forward awkwardly feeling very uncomfortable but Harry pulls you back gently.

"Peter, I finally have the power to realize our vision. Are you... giving up on me?" Harry says he tilts his head, eyes watching Peter as he stood up. Peter's eyes flicker between you and Harry.

"Harry..." Peter begins slowly, "We have to get that thing off you-"

The table in front of you snaps in half as you watch MJ shriek, standing up next to Peter. You breathe heavily as you watch the black tendril enlarge on the table, your eyes widen as it slithers over your body and back to Harry. Peter looked to MJ, to you then to Harry.

"Do not." Harry growls, both hands turning into black tendrils, holding the back of your chair tighter. "Call us a thing."

You whimper as the tendrils move closer to your neck. You clutch the taser tightly as you look at your boyfriend, "Peter..."

Within seconds, you rip out of the tendrils grip, out of Harry's grip, and shove the taser into his abdomen, activating it. You felt the buzz of it rebound as Harry and the Symbiote screech in agony.

The gun drops to the ground as you watch the Symbiote hiss. It's slimey tendrils grab the chair and throw it in the air in anger, before reaching for you. In an instant, Peter throws his webs out, pulling you to him just as the chair breaks where you previously were. Peter holds you against him, clutching you tightly as if his life depended on it.

"Harry..." Peter begins.

"We are not Harry." Harry growls, as his body begins to transform. The tendrils swirl around him, enveloping his body as he begins to grow. Harry's body gone as a menacing creature took its place, a creature manifested with a fanged mouth, teeth as sharp as blades and a tongue that looked as grotesque as the rest of it.

You could hear MJ's heavy breathing as her eyes grew at the sight of the Symbiote.

"We. Are. VENOM."

Harry's voice was mixed in with the symbiote before it completely took over. The Symbiote snarled as Peter pushed you and MJ behind him, arms out to protect the two of you. MJ grabbed your arm in case you needed to run.

Venom aimed a tendril at Peter, hitting him straight in the chest as you and MJ failed to pull him out the way. The three of you flew into the kitchen, Peter stuck in the wall, MJ on the table and you sprawled on the floor. You heard Venom's footsteps move closer as you crawled on the ground trying to find a weapon or something but was pulled back as Venom grabbed your leg, pulling you towards him.

You screamed in terror for Peter as you were dragged across the floor. Venom held you in the air by your leg before going after MJ.

"No!" You screamed as you tried to punch Venom, your attempts futile as he wrapped another tendril around your arms, holding you by your throat as you screamed, "Pete!"

MJ screamed as Venom went after her, grabbing her by the neck and holding her in front of him just as Peter burst out of the wall and screamed your name.

"Y/N!" Peter ran into the living room, his eyes landing on yours as he saw you and MJ on either side of Venom, both being held by your throats as you squirmed in his grip. "MJ!"

Venom snarls as his tongue swirls around your face, mouth widening in a mocking grin.

"Don't." Peter warns as he listens to the sound of yours and MJ's terrified screams.

"Choose..." Venom hissed as he squeezed MJ's throat tighter, making her scream.

"MJ!" Peter called out as he took a step forward only to have Venom growl lowly at him to keep back.

"Is that your choice? You'd let your girlfriend di-"

"No!" Peter screams in agony, arms reaching out to try and grab you. "No- no, don't do this! Don't make me choose- please?"

The Symbiote snarls in annoyance, "Pick. Now!"

"Take me, take me instead. You want me, not them! Take me! Let them go Harry..." Peter's eyes dart between the two of you, not wanting to lose either of you.

"You won't pick? Fine. I'll do it for you." Venom snarls as he throws MJ to the ground, engulfing her in his black tendrils. Her screams muffled as she is transformed into something else.

"Let her go!" Peter demands but MJ is already under his control, MJ now gone and another Symbiote in her place,"MJ!"

"Show him what he's missing..." Venom smirks as he takes a step back to admire his work.

"Peter!" You scream as Venom wraps his arms around you, gripping you against his chest as he holds you tightly.

"You can't have them!" Peter screams panicked as he throws a web to grab you but is cut off by MJ, who jumps in and rips it away, grinning at Peter.

"Too late! He's already got us." MJ snarls as she signals to Venom to go. Venom takes one look at Peter before jumping through the roof, taking you with him.

"Pete- Peter! No! No-" Your voice drowns out as you watch Peter's attempts to save you fail, as MJ thrawts each one.

"Y/N!"

***

Pt 2???

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

[candy-red-river]

WARNING!! ATTENTION TO ALL RANFREN FANS.

RECENTLY THERE HAVE BEEN 3 INDIVIDUALS IN THE COMMUNITY THAT HAVE BEEN CAUSING SEVERE DISTRESS TO THOSE AROUND THEM. WHEN YOU SEE THESE INDIVIDUALS BLOCK, REPORT, OR AVOID THEM.

I REPEAT DO NOT GO AFTER THEM OR HARASS THEM FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYONE INVOLVED.

BELOW ARE SEVERAL COPIED TESTIMONIALS FROM DIFFERENT PEOPLE WHO USED TO INTERACT WITH THESE THREE PROVIDED WITH SCREENSHOTS.

THE DIFFERENT INDIVIDUALS WILL REMAIN ANONYMOUS AND DIFFERENT PEOPLE WILL BE REFERRED TO AS DIFFERENT COLORS FOR THEIR OWN SAKE. TAKE THIS AS YOU WILL.

🚨🚨 IMPORTANT ALARM 🚨🚨

ATTENTION, RANFREN COMMUNITY ON TUMBLR! PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THESE IMPORTANT ALERTS ABOUT INDIVIDUALS TO AVOID:

KITTYGIRLCARPET (carpetkittie) RATMISCHEFINPROCESS SEBASTIANTHEHUMAN.

FOR THE SAFETY OF OUR COMMUNITY, PLEASE BE VIGILANT AND TAKE CARE IN WHO YOU INTERACT WITH ONLINE. STAY SAFE AND PROTECT YOURSELVES! ⚠️📢

I will add the reasons why in the following…

First and foremost, I want you to be aware that several individuals have been persistently targeting me for absolutely ridiculous reasons!!!! Despite not doing anything to provoke them, they've been quite unkind and even extend their hostility to others within the fandom. This is why I've been noticeably inactive lately, as a result of their relentless attacks!!!

Starting off with Sebastian, during our former friendship he would often purposeful endanger himself even when his friends would tell him not to. For hours. He'd say he wouldn't do it but would go claim to do that thing anyway. He would also talk heavily sexually when I and him were with other friends despite being 14 (he told me and someone else he was 15) his made me, as an older teen and new adult, VERY uncomfortable. I tried to ignore it and laugh it off.

He would repeatedly lie to us about everything, and played coy whenever we were suspicious. Recently he admitted to harrassing us in private via tumblrs anonymous asks. After we realised what he'd done he had threatened suicide on his instagram, and would immediately go back to using discord the next day.

Sebastian has been spreading lies abt his ex under the age of 13, while he is 14, calling them a groomer and such, a manipulator, spreading their personal vents/rants without permission, etc. Those were all lies, his ex was doing nothing he said. Even when his ex’s status on disc had nothing to do with love or relationships, Sebastian would change his status to pretend he had a boyfriend, to quote on quote, ‘make them jealous’. Sebastian has been obsessing over (censored), going as far to harass his friends, carve his name into his chest and show him, lie abt his age to get closer, then play the victim once confronted. Randal would give Sebastian compliments, which Sebastian would take way out of context, often making lewd and inappropriate comments in response unprompted. He exaggerates Randal’s words, making it seem that they were genuinely flirting or in love. While joking flirting was not unheard of, they were not genuine feelings. Randal had stated several times that he had no romantic/sexual/etc feelings towards Sebastian in any way. When Randal confronted Sebastian, mainly his only responses were “I don’t know what you’re talking about”, no apology, nothing, just feigning innocence. Along with those two things, Sebastian has been sharing his friends personal info, as well as publicly suicide baiting on Instagram stories. He has been saying multiple times that he has “been shoved into a hospital” and/or “actually killing himself tonight”. A final thing he did quite often was make many comments about how “Incel’s are hot” or that he was purposefully going to get groomed, most definitely for sympathy and attention. Also for attention, he would act overly sexual, making random sexual comments unprompted. He is a manipulative liar, he never defends himself, because he can't.

Before reading this, please know I have really bad memory, so I might have skipped over or watered down things Sebastian did, so please bare with me,

Back when I was 12, Sebastian had groomed me for months when him and I dated (and he now refuses it despite me having proof), he also was racist and tries to defend himself over it by saying "it was a dream" which doesnt make things any better. He also frequently spoke about sexual topics and even sent me a list of things he was into despite me telling him I didn't like talking about that stuff considering my age, also considering the fact I was recovering from something disgusting my stepdad did to me a few days prior, which I told him about. He also had shared stuff about my personal life (my hypersexuality, intrusive thoughts, vents, and probably more things I'm not aware of.)

When I broke up with him for the first time because our age gap made me slightly uncomfortable considering I wasn't considered a teen, also because he made me feel like shit and he was already a horrible person for things he did that I explaiend above. Afterwards he made hints that he would be killing himself, he also obsessed HEAVILY over me and manipulated me until we dated again. This time, he treated me as if I was some sort of secret which made me feel horrible because he KNEW our relationship would be heavily frowned upon for two reasons, one being that hes 14, i was 12. and two, people hated his guts and i promised those people I wouldn't go back to him.

He did a lot of things on calls that I can't provide proof for because I'm 99% sure he was taking precautions just in case I left him again. I WILL be mentioning it but they'll just be considered allegations as I can't provide proper proof. We broke up a final time after a month because he kept ignoring me for hours and made me feel like shit because he met new people and I suddenly became irrelevant.

He also liked to make fun of my overuse on painkillers, and constantly called me a "druggie" which only made things worse on my end. He also never shut up about me claiming I ruined his life, I manipulated him, and he was the victim despite me getting groomed by him.

He made me isolate myself from all my friends (irl and online) so he could be the only one in my life, he did this subtly by saying "I don't like your friends blah blah blah" and gaslighted me into believing I hate them. He also liked to flaunt what he did to me because he got away with it, he also admitted he didnt feel sorry for a single thing he did to me. For whatever reason he also faked having a boyfriend to try and make me jealous (which never worked.)

I'm sure theres a lot more things he did, but I'm having a hard time remembering

I have things about Sebastian and it’s just him sending me a mean anonymous question + him telling me about how Randal thinks that he’s the one sending mean anonymous questions so I can write a message about that ? But I’d also like to stay anonymous because I don’t want to be associated with that,, ( ;´ - `;)

The next person to be spoken of is kitty carpet.

The person who kins kitty carpet has been an on and off bother for me and my friends for months now. She would occasionally come up again to insinuate drama, going after my friend and people adjacent to him online. She has also been dating and interacting with people way too young for those such as cherrycon. She gets angry at proshippers but is a self proclaimed "necrophile", who loves talking about how writing dark content is ok while being against it making her morals unclear.

Kitty has a contentious reputation. She inserted herself into a drama not involving her aggressively harassed someone for no reason, causing them to delete their Tumblr account. She's dated a younger person, age 14 while being 17, and spreads malicious rumors about those who reject her advances. Not only did she label a 13 year old as her “master,” but she also resorted to misogynistic name calling a friend of mine.

My experience with Kitty is pretty limited because when I was active in the Ranfren fandom she had me blocked. Not exactly sure why since I had never interacted with her once. Her ex-boyfriend (I forgot his name but his URL was 'Rabiesivory' I think at the time) and I were mutuals. When he had first followed me, I had "MINORS DNI" in both my bio and pinned post. Since he followed me and was reblogging content marked with the "18+ content filter" I had assumed he was of age (he probably lied about his age while registering so he could have access to 18+ posts). I later found out that he was a minor (14 years old), and I ended up blocking him due to this. I was unaware that he was a child because he was not forthcoming with his age. Later on, someone had informed me that Kitty had just turned 17/18 (I forget which one it was but IIRC she is actually 18 IRL) and was still dating this 14 year old boy. My main issue with Kitty is that she is a massive hypocrite and tries to constantly manufacture drama. She has accused me of things I did not do, and has tried to send her friends and followers to harass me. She also is a self-identified necrophile, and has posted about supporting illegal/immoral paraphilias & being a proshipper while simultaneously saying she "hates proshippers" and "doesn't want them to interact with [her]". She has also repeatedly made romantic advances towards non-consenting people. Kitty is a very dangerous person in the fandom, mostly because of her hypocritical nature & her insatiable thirst for drama. I would recommend avoiding her and people she associates with, because from my own experiences she will try to start drama with anyone and everyone over small, irrelevant things. She is also not above lying about things to make others look bad. I especially want to warn any minors in the fandom of her behavior since she is a known groomer and potential abuser.

This section was short, however most of the people above have the same problem with her.

Final one is Michael, this is the shortest section as most people don't know him very well.

My experience with Michael

Michael who was once a friend of my friend or is still a friend, I’m not sure…consistently harassed me and spoke poorly about me. He repeatedly called me a derogatory term because I wasn't online for a day. Even after my friend forgave me he refused to move past the situation, even though it wasn't a serious issue. He has connections with a lot of problematic individuals involved in the entire situation.

Well for starters He seems to enjoy mentioning how my parents like him better than me a lot, for no reason either, its something he likes to brag about a lot which has always annoyed me. In his pinned post where it says he has untreated bpd is a lie, he’s never gotten a diagnosis with bpd, he also shares things that no one needs to know, for example he’s stomped out a little toad before and wouldnt stop talking about it for a week like if it was the best thing he’s ever done.

Warning for transphobia below.

Green has informed me that minors can not be diagnosed with bpd due to puberty and hormonal changes.

I tried to get all of the relevant screenshots down, to avoid stress and harassment I will not be responding to any questions (maybe).

Please do not harass or go after anyone meantioned. Block and report.

[gay-dorito-dust]

You looked left, then looked right before then hobbling down the hallway, safely making it to the dimly kitchen of your apartment without so much as a peep but just when you thought you were in the clear. The lights turn on and in the doorway, you could clearly see the disappointment upon Adam’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Fuck.’ You hissed under your breath.

‘Shouldn’t you be in bed, resting.’ You grimaced, knowing you’ve tested his patience one too many times with your constant escapades that were birthed from your boredom of being bed bound.

To provide a little bit of context: The most recent mission you and the guardians had partaken in turned out well enough to be considered a success…had you weren’t then later on ambushed by what you had originally thought was the corpse of your slain enemy; leaving you in a state of injury and on bed rest until all sustaining wounds were properly healed over.

During this, Adam had appointed himself your caregiver and would often catch you in the act of attempting one of your many grandiose plans of retrieving a snack from the fridge when your hunger could no longer be ignored or your comfort plushie, before ushering your back to your room and getting what it was that you needed for you. Oftentimes you’d think to yourself that Adam was doing this out of a sense of guilt in not being able to react fast enough but he -as much as the rest of you- couldn’t have known that amongst the dead there would be one still clinging to their last embers of life whilst scheming the ultimate revenge plot.

‘This is the fourth time this week.’ Adam began his chastising.

‘I know…’ you muttered.

‘Your wounds will never properly heal at the rate that you’re going.’ He continues and it feels as though you’ve heard this same rant more then you’d like, but then again you guessed it was kind of your own fault for not actively doing your part in allowing your wounds the time to heal; Even now you felt them scream at you in agreement from beneath the thick gauze as they throbbed in anguish, causing you to wince and bite down your groans of pain as to not alert Adam.

However Adam was more observant then you or anyone gave him credit for and had saw the way your hand instinctually reached for your heavily bandaged side and how the muscles in your face contorts into one of pain and discomfort. His posture relaxed, arms limp at his side, as his face softened; All he wanted to do was make sure your healing went accordingly but he failed to take into account of how restless you’d become from the inactivity, which had lead to your current situation becoming a common occurrence.

‘Your wounds are flaring up again.’ Adam said softly as he made his way to your uninjured side. ‘Let me help you back into bed at the very least.’ You mulled it over but ultimately decided that you should stop making Adam’s job as your caretaker harder then it should be and actually allow your wounds their time to heal because what you were doing wasn’t helping anyone and it certainly wasn’t helping your healing process, only proving in hindering it even more then necessary.

‘Fine.’ You said, accepting that you were loosing this battle, allowing Adam to escort you back to your room and helping you find a comfortable position without irritating your wounds even further then you already have. Before Adam left your room, you find yourself calling out to him. ‘Adam.’ The golden boy looks over his shoulder, ‘I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass. I know you were just trying to help and all I’ve been doing is make it harder on the both of us. I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with me.’

‘You could never be trouble for me.’ Adam admits. ‘I find your inability to stay situated an admirable trait as it only tells me that you have a restless spirit that won’t go quietly into the night. So don’t apologise for I’ll always be here whenever you should need me.’ He finishes with a soft smile before closing the door behind him and you found yourself smiling when drifting to sleep.

[shawnxstyles]

prank? more like spank

DATE: JANUARY 28, 2023

summary: after a day out with your friends, they convince you to prank your boyfriend tom that you got a vaginal piercing. once you break the news, he has to see for himself.

request: yess

words: 3.6k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [pussy spanking, clit play/edging, masochism, slight nipple play], dirty talk, aftercare) language, and fluff.

note: THIS TITLE IS SO FUNNY PLEASE. the gif is so random too 😭 sorry i’ve been so inactive, i’m so busy!! tom masterlist

soft dom!tom

—

“What if I just got a tattoo?” You ask spontaneously as you approach the tattoo and piercing shop. You and your friends were wandering around town, having a much-needed girl day. The two girls stare at you for a moment before giggling hysterically.

“You hate pain and plus, Tom would freak!” Alina laughs harder at your ridiculousness. She had a few simple tattoos herself; small ones on her hands and elegant drawings on her arms. Her black hair was long and sleek, always looking on-point. Even though her tattoos fit her beautifully, it didn’t convince you to get one. You could never get a tattoo, even if you were paid.

“What about a piercing?” You suggest. You have had your lobes pierced since you were young, but you’ve never desired anything else. Nose and lip rings were trendy when you were in high school, but you never understood why anyone would ever put metal inside of their face, let alone the more sensitive parts of their body.

“Again, your pain tolerance is very low,” Alina says, swinging her small bag of leftover food from lunch. “Did you know people pierce their vaginas?”

“Of course. I’ve considered it,” Reyna nonchalantly inserts. You and Alina gawk at her, dumbstruck because she’s never mentioned anything like that before. One thing about Reyna was that she always surprised you; there was always something you didn’t know. One day, she said she was getting a tattoo, so she did. Another, she said she was going to Venice, so she did. In a way, she was very good at keeping her word, which made her a great friend.

Her body was littered in tattoos from top to bottom. Her drawings were thick, dark, and colorful along her naturally tan skin. Her ears were engulfed in pieces of jewelry, while her nose held a septum and two opposing studs. How did she breathe? Her red-dyed hair was frizzy and wavy and shaped her face just right. Her eyes were a hazel, but could easily pass for a shade of green.

“What does it even pierce? Where does the jewelry go?” You ask, trying to imagine how painful it would be on a scale.

“Your clitorus,” Reyna answers, sipping from her straw casually.

“That’s like the most sensitive part!” Your face screams in horror. Why would anyone ever do that to themselves? You feel your legs clench in protection like you can feel the blinding pain just picturing it.

Unfathomable out of ten you decide on when thinking back to the scale.

“I don’t think you could pay me to get that done. Even if I could have it removed,” Alina shakes her head in disapproval.

“When I told Riker I was thinking about it, he was freaking the fuck out. He was trying to be supportive, but I can tell he was scared,” Reyna chuckles. Her boyfriend was the complete opposite of her. She is sociable and outgoing, and is always at someone’s place to party. Riker, her boyfriend of eight months, was a homebody who played video games in his free time. Their largest sharing characteristic is that they are extremely hardworking, which led them to meet while working at the same job.

Ah. Romance.

“I can’t even imagine how Tom would react,” You say, eyes wandering the ground.

“You should see,” Alina suggests.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell him you got a piercing. See what he says,” Reyna adds for clarification.

“Oo, you should record it!” Alina claps giddily and you laugh at their ideas. You shake your head at the recording part, but heavily consider the main idea. Why not have a little fun? You turn over your shoulder and peer at the tattoo and piercing shop that fades in the distance as you continue to walk. Your sundress flows in the spring breeze as you bite your lip.

“Okay,” You shake your head, somehow convinced to play a stupid joke on your innocent, loving boyfriend.

“Ah, how I love a good prank,” Reyna smiles to the sky as you all approach the car.

—

When the girls drop you home first, you wave goodbye to them and then head straight for the door. The sun was beginning to set in the evening, and you wondered what Tom had been doing all day.

“I’m back!” You shout, removing your shoes and hanging up your purse. His response echoes from the kitchen and you walk toward him with nerves.

You weren’t the most convincing liar, so trying to pull off a prank was going to be difficult. Your fingers fiddle anxiously as he turns around from the stove to face you. A soft smile curls on his lips and your insides melt. However, your heart races in extreme nervousness because he looks so innocent and unknowing.

Oh, he’s so going to fall for it.

“Hey, baby. How was your girl’s day?” Tom’s hands slide under your arms and hug you securely. His lips press a firm and tender kiss on your forehead and you sigh softly.

“It was… exciting,” Your eyes sparkle as you stare at him. He looks at you, patiently waiting for you to continue. But you don’t, you wait for him to ask.

“What was so exciting, love?” He delicately brushes the wispy hair from your face, admiring every one of your facial features. Tom was so in love with you, he couldn’t help but stare in disbelief that you were really his.

“I got a piercing!” You smile widely as you squeeze Tom’s biceps in exaggerated excitement. Tom raises his eyebrows, not expecting you to say that. He always just assumed you went out for lunch or went shopping. He would have never assumed you got a piercing, especially knowing how much you hate unnecessary pain.

“You did? Where?” Tom smiles as he curls your hair behind your ears, scouting for the nonexistent jewelry. His eyebrows scrunch when he searches your face as well, but doesn’t find anything.

“It’s on my clit,” You whisper sweetly, biting your lip. Your heart pounds in your chest and you’re hoping he can’t feel it. You tried your best to hold in your laugh at his reaction.

Tom’s eyes widened so much, you thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. He blushes profusely and pulls away from you, cheeks a rosy pink as his jaw practically slides along the kitchen tile. He dryly coughs, trying to hide how flabbergasted he is.

You smile wider and harder, trying not to break your act. Seeing Tom so shocked makes you want to burst out laughing at how easily he fell for it. He knows you absolutely hate pain, yet he still believed it.

“I-I thought you hated pain…” He starts breathily, “What…how…?”

“Reyna convinced me. She said it feels great when having sex,” The lies spill from your mouth before you could even process what it meant. Did that even make sense?

Tom blinks rapidly, mind racing at the change. He didn’t even know that one could get their clit pierced. He never would have thought you would want to get yours done. He remembers early on in your relationship when you told him you cried the entire time when you got your ears pierced. And when you got your shots at the doctors. He even remembers you telling him you cried when you first had sex… but that was understandable. But being reminded of that just makes him even more confused on why you would get something so painful.

You must have cried a lot, he thinks. His heart aches a tad because he wasn’t there for you.

“Well… can I see it?” Tom tries to cool down his burning red face, but it only seems to intensify as he imagines seeing it; your clit irritated and puffy as a bar of metal sears through it.

Now, it was your time to widen your eyes. You tried to hide it by wandering your eyes all over the place, but if anything, that just made it more obvious you were hiding it. Tom contorts his face in mild confusion at your hesitation as you laugh nervously.

“Y/N, can I see the piercing?” He repeats, stalking a bit closer to you.

“No!” You deny too quickly, backing away from him like he was psychotic.

“No? Baby, I’m going to see it eventually. Might as well see it now,” He smiles, reassuringly as you struggle to come up with more lies. Why did you think he wouldn’t want to see it?

“It’s um… really swollen and puffy. You can’t even see it,” You shake your head as you wave it off, swallowing your nerves dryly. Tom skeptically squints his eyelids, puzzled at your sudden defensiveness.

“I can’t see it? How do you know? I haven’t even tried yet.”

“I looked. It’s like it’s not even there,” Nervous laughs release from your mouth and you would be surprised if he still believed you.

Then he quirked an eyebrow, sensing your deceitfulness. Your nervousness gives him a growing confidence. He licks his lips and clicks his tongue, a sly smirk threatening to curl up on his lips.

“Let me see it, Y/N.”

“No!”

Before you could even take off in a sprint, Tom’s arms are tightened securely around your waist. He drags your flailing body and hoists you up onto the kitchen counter, forcing you to stay seated. You wiggle profusely underneath his strong grip, but realize it’s no use compared to his thick muscles. You huff, annoyed that he captured you.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself since you want to be so stubborn,” He grumbles as he crumples the sundress up to your waist. You hold your breath, hands gripping the counter. He forces your legs to spread, eye level with your panties. Your cunt aches as it begins to dampen the material.

“Is the piercing making you that wet? Or is it something else?” Tom taunts, yanking the flimsy fabric until it’s tossed along the kitchen floor. Waves of heat creep up your neck at how close he is to your cunt. He’s seen you naked a million times for your usual sensual, soft sex. But with a lie in between you, you don’t know what to expect.

Tom’s arms lock your thighs to the marble counter. He stares at your pussy, looking as gorgeous as ever. He takes his rough fingers and carefully spreads your soaking folds, inspecting for a piece of jewelry. You gasp as more arousal leaks out of your pussy, begging for more friction. As he gets closer to your clit, you whine from the teasing.

“Well, your clit is puffy… but I don’t see any piercing,” Tom pretends to pout like he hadn’t known you were lying most of the time. His thumb delicately taps your neglected nerves, eliciting a sharp gasp from your throat. “Why did you lie, baby?”

“I don’t know,” With clenched teeth, your eyes focus solely on his devoid touches. Your mind is so distracted by the tedious teasing, you barely comprehend his words. Before you could even reconsider your answer, Tom slaps his hand directly on your clit. You yelp as your hips thrust forward at the mixture of pleasure, pain, and shock that sears through your body. Your clit throbs as you continue to seep on the cold counter, more desperate than ever.

“Another lie. You’re being such a bad girl today. Do I need to punish you?” He questions, palm rubbing deliberately slow on the hood of your clit. Your body trembles as you roll your hips against his hand. With an upset growl, his hand comes down on you again, harsher and more demanding than before. A needy moan escapes you, your hands clawing at his T-shirt. “You just never learn.”

Tom tsks disappointingly and spreads your legs impossibly wider, juices leaking onto the solid surface below you. The texture of his hands roaming your skin created the most sinful scenes in your head. You imagined his thick digits pushing into your cunt, slippery and soft as he thrusts deeper and deeper. You mewled just at the thought, causing him to stare at you curiously.

“What are you thinking about? Hm? Answer me truthfully this time or I won’t even consider you coming tonight,” Tom demands as he flicks your pulsing clit, causing your body to jolt in surprise. Your hands squeeze his muscular shoulders as you try to remain still.

“Your hands. I love your hands,” You admit breathily. Tom slowly removes the loose straps of your dress until they’re slipping off your smooth shoulders and down your arms. He reveals your breasts, nipples pointed and neglected.

With a smirk, his dominant hand continues to deliberately stroke up and down your clit, while his other toys with your nipples. Your breathing heaves as your eyes gawk at his motions, getting more turned on just from the sight. He twists and pulls on your buds until they’re aching painfully good. Tom makes sure his hand tickles your skin when it trails down your torso to add more stimulation to your clit.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, darling,” One hand forces your legs open while the other collects your arousal too lightly. You clench around nothing, pleading for his teasing to end. He resumes his delicate tapping on your nerves, making you whine in agony. “Why did you lie?”

Your heart races and thighs begin to shake from being stretched out.

“I-I wanted to see how you would react,” You reply breathily as he repeatedly taps you. You roll your hips in circles, trying to get more friction against the pad of his thumb. He hums, satisfied yet evilly.

“So this is what you wanted?” Tom slots his middle finger into your seeping hole, causing you to gasp as if it was your first time. With all the teasing, you were sensitive to any little touch, grateful for what he was giving you. “Wanted me to freak out, wanted me to punish you?”

You release a nosy moan, clutching around his digit as it sinks into you deeply. You nod your head to every thrust of his finger, slow and tedious. As your high builds from the edging, his finger is removed from your cunt, empty and aching. You elicit uncontrollable whines as you scoot to the edge of the counter to get closer to his hand. His hand grips your hip tightly to ensure you stay still.

“No, no. This is a punishment, baby. If it gets too much, let me know, but,” Tom husks with a soft expression. When you nod impatiently, waiting for his next moves, his sinful glare returns to your eyes. “you said you liked my hands, so I’m going to give you one.”

Tom’s hand strikes down on your pussy, a wet slapping sound against your arousal. You squeak with a strong grasp on his shoulders as he smirks, pleasured from catching you off guard. He spanks you again, clit throbbing under the palm of his hand. Your stomach tightens as you grind into the air, begging for more. When his hand slaps you again, he makes sure to directly strike your bundle of nerves, making you tremble immensely.

Fireworks shoot through your body like you’ve never felt before. The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain; so shocking and blissful you thought you might pass out. You never would’ve thought you’d be enjoying something as agonizing as spanking, especially on one of the most sensitive parts of your body.

You felt hypocritical and pious; for someone who hated even the idea of pain, enjoying spanking was the last possibility crossing your mind.

But each slap of skin sent you higher into the sky as you floated with ecstasy. Even though you were inching closer to heaven, you’ve never felt more sinful and devilish in your life.

Tears slip down your face as you moan in euphoria. Your core clenches and your eyes roll back as you lose your grip to reality. Your legs beg to close, but Tom’s hand and body forces them to remain open.

“Look at you. Enjoying your punishment,” Tom tsks as his thumb rapidly circles your clit. You gasp with a cry, shaking violently from the blinding pleasure. “Are you going to come from me playing with your clit? Hm? From me spanking you?”

His words have your stomach tensing and mind spinning. You felt like you were flying through a starry haze; a dreamland where everything felt too good to be true. Your high builds and builds until you’re falling down so fast, you’re floating gracefully. Waves of euphoria crash through your body as your muscles spasm, chants of his name repeatedly leaving your lips.

A knowing and encouraging smirk is in your view as he rubs you out, draining you of your orgasm. The white moisture coats his hand before he brings it up to his lips and licks his fingers clean.

Your pussy lips pulsate as your clit continues to throb in irritation from the spanking. Your breathing relaxes as you blink away the glossiness from your eyes. Tom licks his lips, smiling goofily at you as he wipes away your tears.

“You did so well for someone who doesn’t like pain,” Tom compliments as he smooths your wild hair away from your tear-stained cheeks. You roll your eyes with a raspy chuckle and shake your head. “Let’s clean you up, yeah? And how was it?”

“I didn’t think… I never would have thought…” Your mind continues to blur as you forget the words on your tongue. Pulling up the straps of your sundress, you try to recall what you were going to say. “I liked it, surprisingly. A lot. Like a lot a lot.”

Tom chuckles at your enthusiasm and leans in to you. His lips lock with yours in a breathtaking kiss, rocking back and forth. Similar fireworks spark in your body again as you wrap your hands around his neck to sink deeper into him. His tongue slots into your mouth with ease, making you melt in heart-bubbling bliss.

To catch a breath, you release from each other, you now both wearing silly, fond smiles.

“This doesn’t mean you’re going to get a piercing… right?” With skepticism and hopefulness, Tom looks at you. You bite your lip, pretending to really consider it.

“I mean, now that I have an amazing tolerance to pain, I might as well. I have nothing to lose!” You push Tom away and hop off the counter with an overwhelmingly ecstatic smile. With shaky legs, you sprint out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.

A burning sensation is felt on the skin of your vagina as your legs rub against the irritation surface. You hiss and wince as you make your way up the stairs. You regret running away from Tom because he said he was going to take care of you. Your skin screams in agony as you make it to the bed. You didn’t think it would be this painful, especially after he just spanked you. And you liked it.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He shouts as he jogs up the staircase. “Swear, she’s going to be the death of me.” He mumbles to himself before entering the bedroom.

He finds you lying on the bed, wincing with a pinched face. His expression softens as he comes to your aid.

“What’s wrong, lovie?” Tom rubs your shoulder, searching over your body for injuries. Your hands push down on the material of the dress right over your burning mound. He nods in sudden understanding before heading toward the bathroom. He comes back with a tube of some type of cream or ointment. “Lay back, baby.”

You do as he says and crawl back until your head is relaxing comfortably on the pillows. He slowly widens your tense legs and flicks the flare of your dress up to your hips. He takes a peek at your irritated skin, a deep frown on his lips. With the cream on his fingers, he very gently rubs it onto you. It’s cold, almost too cold compared to the heated burn on your skin. But the contrast cools you and relieves all your pain, causing you to sink into the mattress calmly.

“Better?” Tom asks, softly applying the medicine to the bare areas.

“Yes,” You sigh with your head thrown back, breathing steadily. Tom bites his lip, looking at your distraught figure.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I went too hard. I’ll never do it again—”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Tom. Really, I liked it. I’m not lying this time,” He smiles softly at you and you return the favor reassuringly. He hovers above you and gives you a graceful kiss on the lips. He falls beside you and stretches to grab some tissues for his hands to clean off the cream. Then you two lay in the comfortable silence of each other.

“If I really did get a piercing though, how would you react?” You question, turning your head towards his.

“Probably the same.”

“Noted,” You smirk, causing him to turn his face in slight horror at your back and forth attitude. “Kidding! I can’t even handle moderate pain.”

“You’re crazy.”

You infamously roll your eyes before he kisses you again, making you forget everything. You laugh against his lips, causing the whole kiss to be a sloppy mess. In hysterics, you both laugh full heartedly as you pull away.

“Come on. Let’s go finish dinner,” Shaking his head, Tom gets up from the bed and begins to walk back downstairs to the kitchen.

“What if I got, like, a tongue piercing?” You shout from the bedroom. You hear him groan in annoyance as you follow him to the kitchen.

Oh, you loved pranking your boyfriend.

—

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday: Trespasser

(From the poll: "In Which the Demolition Duo made it to the Wastelands without being banished because They Are Trespassing)

Damas was not, by and large, a religious man. He didn't worship Precursors -- there were some who insisted that his ousting from Haven was divine punishment for his arrogance -- nor spirits. If spirits could be killed, so could Precursors. That made them oracles, elders to be respected for unique perspectives on time, but not gods in Damas’s opinion.

Which made it an oddity to find him in the temple.

He sat on the shallow steps, staring up at the six carved heads meant to represent Precursors. More insectoid than Oracles, or perhaps just more elaborate. They seemed to wear headdresses over their bizarre masks.

"If you, by action or inaction, let Mar die, then at least have the decency to tell me," he whispered into the empty air.

"You always foretold a future moment of need that my House would answer. Has that need passed unnoticed that you stay silent while my bloodline ends? Or does my son live?"

The masks were silent, of course. Carved stone could neither hear nor speak.

Ungrateful wretches. Damas had a fleeting thought that perhaps they'd allowed -- or even orchestrated -- the abduction of his little son because he wasn't servile and "pious" enough for their tastes.

Damas wondered if spirits could harm Precursors. If perhaps the "Good Grandmother"*, She-Who-Hears-Them-Cry, might take an interest if something in this temple had been directly involved in bringing Mar to harm.

Má took her payment even from the hides of fellow spirits, after all.

"Even if you were capable of bringing him back unharmed, I very much doubt you would," Damas whispered harshly to the open air. His throat bobbed with a painful, bitter anger.

"But if you took him, you owe blood-debt to my House, old ones. So grant closure or sit in your realm knowing that I will seek answers among others as old as you."

Was it wise to threaten the Precursors? Damas neither knew nor cared anymore. Two years he'd barely survived having his heart metaphorically ripped out of his chest.

What more could they do to him? Really, what could they possibly do that could be worse than not knowing?

No answer arrived, not that it surprised him. Damas sighed and braced his elbows against his knees, head in his hands.

Stone grated against stone and metal to his left, and he turned his head swiftly.

There was a door there, one heavily fortified with traps. A hovering Sentinel eye kept watch for movement, designed to activate a spike trap if anyone tried to enter the lower levels without permission. And if someone managed to somehow get past that, the door would still be sealed. Whether by an enterprising ancestor of his or by meddling Precursors, that door could not be opened without an Heir of Mar. Damas was the only one who had ever been beyond it.

It should not have opened even an inch.

And yet Damas was witnessing the two mighty halves forcing themselves apart with a tortured groan born of idleness.

He was on his feet in an instant, ready for a fight. There was no chance that this heralded anything good.

"Whoa!"

That was a hu'men voice.

Damas’s hand hovered over his sidearm, ready to draw the moment he saw a face.

"And I thought this place was huge before!"

It was a young voice. High and a little squeaky.

"It just keeps going, doesn't it?" laughed a second voice, deeper, but just as young.

And then the doors were open wide enough to see the silhouette in between them.

And more importantly, to see the object glowing faintly in his outstretched fist.

Damas’s mouth was dry as he fumbled for the pouch between belt and leather armor where he kept his own amulet of Mar. He knew the shape by heart: twin comets orbiting each other, over stylized hands.

Thief-!

Pure, outraged, fury burned through his veins for a moment. Who had this scrawny figure stolen that amulet from? Heaven forbid it be Mar's amulet, lest Damas murder this boy before his very next step.

"Identify yourself!" Damas shouted, raising his gun.

The figure stepped into view. He was small, so thin his clothes hung loosely on scrawny limbs, but he held himself like a warrior.

"People!"

The animal curled around his shoulders sat upright and spoke.

"Jak! There's real people in here! We're saved!"

Odd reaction to a man pointing a gun at them.

The boy eased a step forward, hands raised as if soothing a frightened animal. He still held the incriminating amulet in his hand.

"Whoa, okay, put the gun down. I don't want to hurt anybody-"

He took a step too far and the sentinel flashed. The spikes shot up out of the floor with a faint shunk!

With a yelp, the boy leapt back -- he was surprisingly light on his feet for someone wearing boots two sizes too big. Then, as if the nearly fatal encounter was no more than a slight inconvenience, he backed up, got a running start, and launched.

He kicked off the wall, seeming to find handholds in the tiniest of crevices as he bypassed the spikes entirely.

Once on the ground again, the boy dusted himself off.

"You okay, Dax?"

"Just peachy, considering you almost dropped me!"

"Did not!" the hu'men boy protested in annoyance.

He really was small.

The general gangly sprawl of his limbs suggested he would gain an impressive height, but for now he just looked..small.

And entirely too excited.

"Who....do you- Where did you come from?" Damas demanded.

The boy pointed back down at the steps and shrugged before scratching his head.

"Exploring?"

Oh that green hair hurt to look at. It was filthy, and matted, like it hadn't been correctly washed in years. He couldn't even determine the age of the trespasser, what with the layers of grime embedded into every crevice of his face. The clothes were just as stained with sweat, dirt, and what looked to be bloodstains. From traps?

"Exploring."

Damas repeated the stranger's explanation incredulously. "How did you even get in here?"

The boy and the orange animal looked at each other for a curiously long moment. They seemed to be having a conversation merely by narrowing and widening their eyes in turn. Then, seeming to come to an agreement, they shrugged and turned back to face Damas.

The boy pointed down a barely visible flight of rough-hewn stone steps, lit by torches.

"We came up through the catacombs."

There were catacombs? He hadn't seen anything like that down there, and Damas liked to think he'd made it pretty far! He examined the stranger more closely, avoiding his eyes -- they're not familiar, you're just projecting your grief -- and avoiding looking at the talking weasel thing. He saw sunken cheeks drawn tightly against sharp cheekbones. A pale, barely visible scar across the bridge of his nose. Deep, deep shadows beneath his eyes. How large was the temple, altogether? Were there more people living below their feet?

"How...long were you down there?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Trust me pal," the weasel-rabbit said, "he smelled like this before we got in that zoomer."

"Hey!"

"What zoomer?!" Damas asked, feeling more confused than before.

"The one we took through the lava tube to the catacombs."

Damas was beginning to wonder if he'd somehow inhaled the monks' incense by accident.

The trespasser cringed as if only just noticing the bewildered and only barely softened hostility on Damas’s face. He shoved his amulet -- not his, it can't be his, there aren't any more of us left!*-- into his pocket and waved his hands placatingly.

Was there another Heir all this time? Is that why I was given no chance to protect Mar? Were my child and I expendable?

"Didn't mean to bother you," the kid apologized, "We'll just uh- huh. Actually, where are we?"

And then he looked to the door rather than Damas.

"Hey Oracle!" he shouted, and Damas was glad no monks were present to hear this and faint at the impertinance.

"Where the rot are we?"

Alright. This was now officially more of a problem than he'd first thought. Not even the monks were supposed to have found that Oracle down there.

One of the past Heirs who never inherited the throne had sealed it up the moment he discovered it long ago. After all, the discovery of light and dark eco being opposite poles of one energy might have thrown society into chaos and they didn't want to deal with the fallout. Even Damas was leery of reintroducing that knowledge outside of the Arena yet. Apparently this trespasser had no such thoughts.

He spoke to Oracles -- or pretended he did.

He held and used an amulet.

The boy was a mystery. And Damas hated not having the answers.

"You," Damas decided, wearing anger like a shield, "are coming with me. You have questions to answer."

The boy balked.

"No!"

He dodged before Damas could seize his arm, stumbling back amidst the columns.

"Uh-uh, I'm not falling for that."

"Falling for what?"

Damas was genuinely confused, and more than a little irritated.

The boy continued to back away.

"No, no I know how this goes. You're gonna take me back to the Haven Council, aren't you!"

*

"Haven?!" Damas sputtered, "Why the bleeding rot would I want to go there?! I'm taking you to my city!"

That didn't reassure the kid, who apparently was not fond of the leaders of Haven City.

Well, that was at least a bare minimum of common ground.

"You ain't takin us to no secondary location!" the orange one declared, pointing a skinny digit at Damas.

"The last time I got transported to a new place, I got kidnapped and experimented on for two years," his friend agreed.

Embleer Frith.

Damas stared at the boy. He squinted, as if that would give him insight into the unsettling response, then shook his head.

"You what?!"

What was he talking about? Experimented on?! That would explain the sudden shift from curiosity to distrust. But why-?

Damas knew. Deep down, he thought he knew.

If the boy was an Heir -- and he didn't even want to entertain the thought, but it had to be acknowledged as a possibility -- then that alone would be motive for someone like Praxis to torture even a young man -- or young boy?

If he was still obsessed with creating the ultimate war-sage, then an unclaimed and unattended Heir of Mar would be invaluable.

But if Praxis had been so focused on an older Heir, then perhaps it at least meant that he'd never gotten his hands on Mar.

That there was a stab of shame to follow that whisper of relief was an unsettling proof that he had not successfully hardened his heart as much as he'd thought.

"You came here from Haven?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

Thoughts of a breach in their defenses sickened him.

"And others will follow in pursuit of you?"

This time both trespassers scoffed.

"Only if they feel like sharpening their reaction time enough for a volcanic subrail," the hu'men said. He almost smiled.

The orange one nodded. "Jak here's the best driver there is! Also the most demolition-happy, but nobody's perfect."

Jak?

Now that was a name his spies had been mentioning a lot in their reports. An alleged juggernaut who had turned the Baron's own secret project against him and -- rumor had it -- even destroyed the metalhead nest.

Damas had been expecting someone a little...older.

* the "Good Grandmother" Damas is referencing is a spirit I made up for the Wasteland called Má Crocadeer. Fairly grisly figure with a crocadeer skull wreathed in flowers for a head, and a crocadeer's legs and tail. Her purpose is to punish those who deliberately cause or inflict harm on children. There's a lot of people in Haven who should avoid the desert for this reason.

[gingernut1314]

Truth or Dare?

Nami x GN!Reader

Summary: When you fall heavily injured, you resort to the familiar game of truth or dare to let Nami know how you feel about her.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, anime spoilers (Whisky Peak Arc, Alabasta Arc; episodes 117 and 118)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I've been going through a little bit of writer's block recently so sorry for being so inactive, but I've wanted to write this for a little while so here it is! This is my first time writing for Nami so I hope you all enjoy!

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“Truth or dare?” You breathed out in a voice just below a whisper. Nami pulled her blue eyes up from what she had been doing and locked onto yours. Blue eyes that had begun to water--that never filled with tears unless something was truly wrong. 

And that something wrong being the gaping gash dealt to your stomach by that spiky, spider woman that had been chasing you both through the streets of Alubarna. 

Nami shook her head full of orange hair, which you wished to run your fingers through its short length. The golden hair clip she had just bought must have fallen out while you two had been fighting for your lives. 

You watched her try to steal herself against the fear you had no doubt was waging within her and found you wished she would show you her fear--show you every emotion she was feeling in that moment so you could properly care for her.  

“No.” She said firmly.

“No?” You questioned with a chuckle that turned into a hissing wince when Nami pressed her hand tighter over your wound, trying desperately to slow the bleeding. “You can’t say no. That’s the rules.” Nami shook her head again more forcefully. 

“Well, I’m changing the rules. I’m not going to play this game when--” Her voice quivered, those vast eyes that always reminded you of a crystal blue lake shining in the sunlight nearly overflowing with tears. Tears for you.

You remember when you had first seen her lake-blue eyes. First took in their utter depths. 

You had been a Broquet Works agent based in Whiskey Peak--had been assigned to kill off the Straw Hats with the other agents stationed in that town. Had been ready and more than willing to help kill them off, but then you had seen those eyes--so bright and calculating--and knew instantly it would be a more difficult task than you had originally thought. 

You had been the first to greet the woman, besides the likes of Mr. 8. Had made an utter fool of yourself in doing so, but you hadn’t cared because she had laughed at your horrible and flirty jokes. Had outdrank you without so much as breaking a sweat and it enthralled you. 

She had won over your heart with just a few laughs and witty quips. Had won you over so much so that you had turned your back on your organization, despite knowing your death would be painful and bloody. You guarded over her and her passed-out crew after dark. Had protected her despite the horrendous wounds you had received from your fellow agents. 

After much convincing, you had been allowed to join the Straw Hats on their journey to Alabasta under the rouse of wishing to help protect the recently revealed princess from other-like Broquet Works members. Though, that was far from the truth. 

You and Nami had started this game of truth or dare when you had made it to Little Garden. You, Nami, and Usopp had been wandering around in the jungle when you had offered the familiar question her way. 

She had still been very distrustful of you then, but she had humored you. At some point during your voyage through the Grand Line, you think she stopped merely humoring you and began actually enjoying the game. Enjoyed it so much she had begun starting before you could get the chance. 

You played the game on nights neither of you could sleep. During boring and long days of endless sailing. You had played it when she fell sick and when you were injured yet again by some horrible king on a snowy island.

It was how you managed to grow closer to her. To learn of her haunting childhood and near enslavement to that horrid Fishman from the East Blue. It’s how she had learned your real name and your own haunting childhood. 

And you had fallen stupidly for her. Had probably fallen for her the moment you laid eyes on her. Anyone else in Whiskey Peak would have called you foolish for giving up everything you had worked for just to follow some woman who might never like you back, but you didn’t care. 

You would do it over and over again. Would get beaten down, stabbed, and shot at all over again because you couldn’t imagine your life without the strong-willed, fiery-tempered, and kind-hearted woman kneeling next to you.

“Come on, sunshine. Please?” You asked, pulling a playful smirk to your lips that Nami wouldn’t meet. 

“Fine. I dare you to shut up and not die.” Nami hissed, those pools of blue spilling over her cheeks despite her angered gruff at it. You chuckled, wiping away one of those hot trails from her slightly sunburnt cheeks.

“I was hoping to say a truth.” Nami shook her head once more, pulling away from your grasp. She looked away from you, turning to peek her head out of the large hole in the brick townhome you two had hidden away in. “Nami--sunshine--”

“Stop.” She hissed, whipping her burning gaze back onto you. “Stop it. You can’t break the dare until I say so, so shut up.” Another stray tear fell over her dirty, scratched-up cheeks.

“If you get to bend the rules today, I think I get to bend them too--just a little bit.” You said, trying to keep your tone light despite the darkness of your situation. Nami gave a frustrated little sound that came out sadder than you think she had wanted it to. 

“You’re not going to die.” She insisted, telling you like it was a fact. And maybe it would turn out to be fact, but at the rate you were losing blood and the knowledge that Chopper was probably miles away made it seem less likely to happen. You kept your playful smirk on your lips as you grabbed for her hand, holding it gently.   

“Ask me why I paid you all that berry to board your ship.” More tears streaked down her cheeks, her bottom lip sucking into her mouth to keep from letting any sort of sound escape her. She shook her head again and you chuckled, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. 

“I didn’t care about getting Vivi here safely. I didn’t care that I was turning my back on my work and that I was signing my own death warrant. I didn’t care because I was following you. I wanted to be by you.” 

“Stop.” Her voice came out watery. So small and weak. She was begging you. Begging you to just shut up like she had dared you to and get better. 

But you wanted her to know--needed her to know. 

“It's the only reason I started this stupid game in the first place. I wanted to know you better.” You said on a laugh that turned wincing as another wave of pain washed through you. Nami went to try and stop you from speaking again, but you beat her to it. “And I--I like you. I like your laugh and your eyes and your smile. I like watching you talk about your maps because you are just so passionate about them. Hell--I only pretend to hate reading to get on your nerves 'cause you look too cute all mad.” Nami huffed a small, saddened laugh.

“You shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to make you read all my books now.” You nodded, allowing her to keep hoping for the future after this. Allowed yourself, for just a second, to do the same. To think about you laying your head in her lap as she read you one of the many books in her collection.

“You’re--you’re really special to me.” You felt your own eyes begin to sting. Felt your throat tighten against the swell of emotion rocketing through you. “And I want you to know that. You--you’ve made me a better person…saved me from my darkness.” 

Nami moved herself closer to you, sniffing back her tears. You gladly allowed her presence into your atmosphere--allowed her to lay her forehead on yours. Closing your eyes, you took in her warmth and the smell of that overly expensive perfume you had bought her the other day in the marketplace. 

You brought your blood-covered hand up to caress her cheek, holding her closer. Holding her for a moment that might very well be the last. 

Fight it. You needed to fight it. Fight to stay alive--for her. 

The chilling sound of Miss. Doublefinger's voice calling for you both echoed through the deserted street you were on. Nami tensed against your hold, eyes snapping open in fear. 

You needed to protect her. 

You needed to keep her away from that woman…but you could hardly feel your legs, let alone move with the amount of pain you were in. But you would do it--you would crawl and let that spider trap you like some fly. Let her strike you down just to give Nami enough time to run and find the others.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Okay?” Nami said and you watched her push her sadness and fear down. Watched her pull that confidence and courage she held within herself, whether it be fake or true, up. 

Painc, rapid and tight, shot through your chest.

“What? No--”

“Truth or dare?” She asked, pulling her forehead from yours. You shook your head as she moved your hands to place them over your wound. 

Tears did fill your eyes then. Tears of fear for her. Because you knew Nami could handle herself, but even you had fallen prey to that spider’s sting. You had made peace with death a long time ago, but you had hardly made peace for her. Wanted death far, far away from her. 

“Nami--” You started, pulling out of her guiding movements to grab hold of her wrist, keeping her from leaving. “I’m supposed to protect you. I want to protect you. Whether I die--” 

“Truth or dare?” She insisted strictly, leaving you speechless.

“Truth.” She smiled through her sadness and fear. 

“How long do you think Usopp's weapon is going to hold against her?” You huffed, pulling yourself off the wall Nami had leaned you against, spying the blue, three-pieced metal staff strapped to her hip. 

“A minute--if it doesn’t break before you even get a chance to use it--which is why I’m going out there and not you.” You insisted just as strictly.

“Truth or dare?” Nami asked once more, dismissing your continued denial of her fighting that spider. 

“Nami--” She fixed you with a strict look that had you huffing in frustration.

“Pick dare.” You furrowed your brow in confusion at her. “Come on, pick. She’s getting closer.” You huffed. And huffed again before giving in to her request.

“Dare.” 

“I…” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, something like nerves filling her eyes. “I dare you to kiss me.” Your mouth fell open to speak--to keep fighting to keep her from leaving your side--but Nami gave you that confident smile of hers as she brushed her blood-covered fingers over your cheek. A touch you unconsciously lend into. “Are we still bending rules?” You huffed a laugh that fell just as quick. 

She leaned in, her deep, blue eyes searching your own. Eyes that, though still held that fear in them, were calm. Ready--sure and steady. Eyes you had fallen in love with over and over again. 

You pulled her closer by the wrist you still held, your other hand cupping her cheek to guide her lips against yours. Lips you had wished to kiss ever since she had first laughed at your bad joke. Lips that were sweet, yet just a little chapped from the desert sand that had been thrown at you like a weapon earlier that day. 

It was a kiss you pressed all your love into. A kiss you used to try and communicate every last little adoration you held to her. A kiss you prayed would keep her from leaving you--to keep her from facing death. 

Nami pulled away all too soon, her soft breaths brushing over your cheeks as she rested her forehead against yours. She kept her eyes screwed shut, fresh tears having sprung to life beneath her bare eyelids. 

“Plea--please don’t go. I’m okay. I’ll keep you safe.” You tried, but Nami shook her head, her eyes opening once more. She removed your hand from her cheek and replaced it over your wound, making it sting in the process. 

“You’re not okay and if you face her again, she’ll kill you. Just--stay here. I’m going to find help.” 

Click, click, click went Miss. Doublefinger's heels as she passed by the row of townhouses you two were hidden in. You both held your breathes as the clicking grew more faint with each passing second. Seconds you spent taking in her face--such a beautiful face you hadn’t looked at nearly as much as you should have.

“Don’t--” Nami cut you off with one last kiss. A kiss that was meant as a bitter-sweet promise. A promise of her return to you--though a return to you how and in what shape was unknown. A big unknown that pulled at your heart and had you holding her wrist tighter.

“I dare you to stay put--no more bending the rules,” She said, giving you her best confident smile and wink as she grabbed for the strange weapon Usopp had built her, called the Clima-tact.

“Nami--” But she pulled from your fingers as she snuck away out of the townhome, leaving you utterly alone with the dark and dust. 

The sound of buildings crashing, people screaming, and the wind howling only made your fear grow and grow with each passing minute. Had you gritting your teeth against your pain and dragging yourself from the spot Nami had left you in. 

That had been a very bad decision on your part because as soon as you made it to the exit, your vision began dotting with black. Black that filled your eyes and left you in a blinding sea of pitch-black pain. 

Your vision returned, though rather foggy, with the feel of gentle fingers caressing your cheeks. Orange hair and lake-blue eyes shined down at you like some angel--gods she was a sight to see, even covered in dirt as she was.

“I said no more bending the rules.” Nami huffed, eyes watching you narrowly before looking behind herself to call for Zoro, who she must have found while you were passed out. 

“You’re hurt.” You said, running a shaky finger over her shoulder, having spotted the fresh blood on her sunkissed skin. Her blue eyes found yours again, though softener than they had been. More--fearfilled.  

“She was--strong. Scary. But you were wrong.” You furrowed your brows up at her as Zoro’s tall shadow fell over you both, blocking the sun from your blurry eyes.

“Wrong? That she was a bitch? No.” Nami rolled her eyes, an amused huff of air leaving her. 

“No. The Clima-tact lasted longer than a minute. It took her down.” She said, pointing towards a smoking townhouse that had a strange, Miss. Doublefinger-sized hole in its side. 

“Truth or dare?” You breathed, looking back up to Nami who was already watching you. 

“Dare.” She smirked, a laugh spilling from your chest as you grabbed her neck in a gentle hold, pulling her down to claim her lips against yours. She kissed you back eagerly. A kiss that fulfilled the silent promise she had given you earlier.

You heard Zoro gruff something about not having time for this, which only spur Nami to pull away, pissed.

“You’re carrying both of us now.” She hissed up at the swordsmen who groaned in his own annoyance.

Tag List: @thesleepiestbearcub , @fanaticsnail

[glassbxttless]

L&D Baby

Nurse!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: Steve and his wife are having their first baby— and it happens to be at the hospital he works at.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: 18+ (editing to add: no sexual themes, but I am literally an adult and do not want minors interacting with my content whatsoever), marriage, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of a stillbirth, dad!steve, labor and delivery nurse!steve, blood/blood loss, swearing— as always let me know if there’s any tags i missed!

Notes: This is posted over on my ST blog ( @hellfirestxnes ). Once all of my content is moved over here— that blog will be inactive as my main objective is to have one space for myself!

Steve is tired. His bones are aching and his eyes are sore, but it’s just another Friday really. He has about half of his shift left and he’s off again, thankfully, until Monday. Leaning on the counter at the nurses station, listening to the other nurses gossip and share stories about their kids. And he’s thinking about you at home, sitting pretty and waiting for him to come home— belly swollen with his child. Any other day, he might tuck himself away and use the phone to call and check in, but today… he couldn’t face it. The first delivery he was on that morning, he watched a new mother wish with every fiber of her being that what the doctor was telling her wasn’t true. He cleaned up that baby, took their weight and height, made out the card for the parents that would never get to hear a cry. He bundled up gray, cold skin and hoped that the couple would be able to find peace. Somewhere deep down, he wishes he wouldn’t have heard them ask how did this happen? Everything was just fine this morning. But, now here he sits. Thinking about that delivery, thinking about his wife at home. His very pregnant wife. Your pregnancy has gone by so quickly, been such a breeze. He’s been to as many appointments as he could, especially the ones you were so worried about. But there’s always a reassuring answer of your baby being strong and healthy. A perfect little Harrington. And now, Steve’s never found himself more terrified. If everything can be fine and perfect one second and terribly tragic the next, he doesn’t know where to find his peace. He hangs his head against his hands for a few moments— taking a deep breath. He’s gotta get himself straight, take a few moments. But there’s hellos being exchanged a few feet away and after what seems like a millisecond, a hand is settling on his lower back. He snaps around, prepared to give the whole I’m married spiel he’s done a thousand times, he’s met with the beautiful eyes of his adoring wife. And that softens his features, he’s visibly relaxing.

You smile at him, as he tugs you into his grip. The hug lasts longer than usual and Steve loves hugging you. You rub his back and kiss his shoulder, “you forgot your lunch.” You whisper to him quietly, the bag in your left hand adorning a beautiful band that Steve had so carefully picked out himself. At your words, Steve’s grip just tightens a bit and he kisses your head, sighing out. “Do you wanna eat together?”

“Yeah, angel. Just about to take my break. come on.” he says quietly, leading you down to the cafeteria. He pulls out your chair and you can tell something is distracting him as he sits. He’s busying himself by passing out the food, but he’s quiet and normally— he isn’t. He asks about your day, tells you about his, has told you he loves you a dozen times by now. And he knows you’ve noticed, by the way his eyes flick up to yours and back down again. “I’m okay.” he says after catching the look on your face.

“You’re not.” you reply, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on, Steve? Can talk to me.” you reach over for his hand, thumb brushing over his own gold wedding band. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Steve sighs heavily, flipping his hand over to take yours gently. “The first birth I was on this morning was a stillbirth and I dunno… just had me thinking a lot.” He explains, his eyes dropping down to your belly across the table. You nod slightly, the hand that wasn’t entwined in his moves to your belly. You’re almost due and neither you nor Steve have ever had to worry about this. Never had it been a thought in your head.

“Just want you guys safe, is all.” Steve says softly and gives your hand a squeeze before he’s pulling it away to eat his lunch with you. And when it’s time for him to get back to work, you stand. There’s a dull ache that starts in your back and wraps around to your tummy, it lasts about 30 seconds as you clean up from lunch. You ignore it as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll see you at home, okay? Take it easy, rest.” He reminds you, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Yeah, okay.” You acknowledge him with a nod, before you feel another aching pain. But this time it’s accompanied by a slow trickle of fluid down your thighs. And when Steve notices where your eyes are falling, all of the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

“Oh.” Is all he can manage. He’s done this a thousand and ten times over the past few years. He’s consoled laboring mothers, he’s held their hands and cleaned them up, he’s been their support system. It’s his job. But here he is, with his own wife, frozen in his tracks. Your water broke and he can tell with the uncomfortable face you’re making the contractions have started as well. “Okay, angel… let’s… let’s get you checked in.” he says softly and suddenly, you’re more than thankful for the pre-registry packet Steve made you fill out last week. He holds your hand the entire time they check you in and get you into a room. He can hear his pager going off and he’d check it, every now and again, hoping one of the other nurses could pick up his patients, since he still technically was on his shift. But when he can’t put it off any longer, he kisses your head. “Listen, I’ll be right back okay? I’m not leaving you alone for this. I’ll be really quick.” he says softly.

You just nod, munching on the ice chips he had brought you not too long ago. You still feel like you have time. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. But Steve would throw a fit if they even tried to send you home and you know it. Steve smiles nervously when he wheels a cart into another expectant parent’s room. He introduces himself and shakes her husband’s hand when he extends it to him introducing themselves as, “Caleb and Connie Bear.” He's trying to keep the small talk up and keep himself calm— and not to think of his wife four rooms down. “Is this your first?” he asks softly, administering her medication.

“Oh no.” Connie laughs softly and shakes her head, “It’s baby number seven.” She pats her belly gently. Steve nods, a little lost in his own head. A mix of thoughts of the young couple a floor up with no baby to show, his wife laboring without him, and these friendly people working on their seventh baby. “It’s not as bad as you think.” she laughs, catching Steve’s face.

Steve laughs nervously and shakes his head, “oh no. it’s not that.” He smiles softly, “my wife and I wanted around six.” He shrugs, giving her a glass of water.

“You’ve got kids?” She smiles at him and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze as he adjusts her monitors. “You’re so young.”

“Uh… not yet.” He laughs softly and pulls her blanket back up over her. “My wife’s in labor now, actually. Not very far along yet and It’s our first, might have a while to go.” He rambled off nervously.

She smiles at him, a warm and comforting smile, and so does her husband. They remember those days. And Steve does find comfort in that smile. “These things take time.” She says softly, nodding at Steve. “but she’ll know what to do and I know you’ve seen a lot of babies being born but the minute you see yours, everything’s gonna change.” And Steve knows she’s right.

“Thank you.” he says softly. “I’ll be back in to check on you in a little while.” he dims her lights a bit, sighing softly as he steps out of the room and walks over to his station to chart his notes quickly. When he looks up and sees his mother-in-law, that’s when his panic starts to set in. He’s hurrying around the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/N called asking me to come, Steve.” She laughs, a sound that reminds him of you. “She knows you’re busy.” She gives his arm a pat and smiles at him. “She’s getting close, from what they’ve told her.”

“And she didn’t say anything to me?” Steve frowns, leading her over to your room. His face is knotted up in confusion when he looks over you. Your feet are planted on the floor, leaning over your bed. He sighs softly, knowing he should have been in here. He walks over, standing behind you to rub circles into your lower back.

“This is how we got into this situation.” You joke, face pressed against your sheets.

The response makes Steve chuckle, rolling his eyes, “oh hush. your mother is here.” He mumbles softly, rubbing your hips gently. “Where did they say you’re at, angel?” he asks softly.

“Eight.” You mumble back, letting yourself melt into Steve’s hands. They slide around to your belly, lifting gently and trying to keep the pressure off of your back in between contractions. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” You ask him, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. You can see the worry etched into his features. But once he sees the way your hair is sticking to your forehead and how flushed and clammy your skin is— he softens.

“A girl.” He says softly. “Gonna be just as pretty as you.” He whispers softly, helping you switch positions and lie back on the bed quietly. Steve’s head perks up as he sees one of his co-workers take a quick peek in. “What’s up?” he mouths over to her. He watches her point down to her belt, signaling to the pager Steve has forgotten.

He sighs and kisses your head once more, rubbing soothing circles onto your arm. “I’ll be right back again, okay sweetheart? Your mama’s here. gonna take care of you while I’m gone.” He says softly and squeezes your hand before he’s ducking out and heading down to the Bear’s room, pushing the cot along quietly.

Connie smiles tiredly, having opted for an epidural at the last stage of her labor. Steve’s ready at her thighs, ready to pop the baby up onto her chest. His own head is occupied with the thought of missing the birth of his own child while he welcomes another into the world. His shift would be over soon and then he’ll be sitting at your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you healthy and happy. Supporting you throughout the entire transition of your labor. Caleb rubs soothing circles on Connie’s arm as she pushes, and Steve takes note of the love in the room. How much the two of them lean on one another.

And Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when he’s reaching over her thighs, with their newborn boy laying on her stomach. He’s helping rub the baby dry, eyes flicking up to the delivering doctor when no one hears any cries for just a few more moments. And Steve whispers, panicked, but full of hope, “oh come on, kid.” No one hears him, but Connie— and her eyes are on him as Steve tries his fucking best to coax a cry out of the baby. Even after suctioning his nose and mouth. He remembers the heartbroken looks on that young couple this morning and he couldn’t take it again.

And finally there’s a sigh of relief when the little one lets out their first big wail. Steve smiles watching as Connie holds their baby to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. She gives Steve’s hand a squeeze, her face silently thanking him. And then as he’s walking away to fill out a stats card for their baby, Steve hears his name followed by someone shouting time to push. And he’s running. He’ll check back in later, but he’s not missing his baby’s birth. You’ve got the rails of the bed in your hands, gripping tightly as you push— and he’s finding your side and brushing back your hair. “I'm here, angel.” He’s whispering through your tears. “I’m here. Look at you. You’re doing so good, mama.”

And it’s a whole new feeling when Steve hears a cry before he even sees the baby. He can see the blood on your thighs as they lift the baby up to place against your chest. The tears in your eyes are falling as you look up at Steve. And he just presses a kiss against your forehead, sniffling back his own years. “You did it, angel.” he mumbles softly.

“Congratulations.” You hear through your OB’s big smile. “It’s a boy.” And then Steve laughs, his smile pressed against your hair.

“It's a boy.” you repeat, fingers brushing against the back of your baby's fresh soft skin. The quiet grunts coming from him fill the room as he roots around trying to latch onto your breast quietly. “Joseph.” You whisper and turn to look up at Steve, remembering the perfect name the two of you had spent the last eight months curating. “Joseph Steven Harrington.” You announce to your mother quietly. And Steve feels himself tear up a bit.

Nothing has ever felt like this before in his life. And once you’re squared away, he makes sure to thank his coworkers quietly. Appreciating every second of them covering his ass tonight. They all congratulate him for the beautiful baby, passing out hugs and offering advice. And Steve soaks it in, every single word of it. Soaks it in like his life depends on it.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt

[aeneaans]

returning a favor

synopsis: you help diluc patch up a wound—hilarity ensues.

word count: 1061

c/w: none !! i mean if you exclude diluc being a loser … they kiss !

a/n: im sorry for being inactive …!! i wrote this in january please take this as compensation

“Finally,” You’re wiping the sweat off near your cheek, breathing heavily. Your lungs almost feel as if they’re about to stop working. You certainly didn’t expect The Abyss mage to call for backup—lots of backup. That was probably the most tiring fight you’ve had in a while.

With your throat dry and desperately needing water, you croak, “Where do they get so many reinforcements from?” Although your skin was barely scathed, all of your limbs felt weak. You could barely stand, so you collapsed onto a dark patch of grass.

Your breathing begins to slow down as you finally catch your breath. “Well? Aren’t you going to sit as well? I can’t believe you still have the energy to stand.” You question Diluc’s stamina. Either that, or maybe he’s just stubborn. Sure, he was standing perfectly fine since he was using his massive claymore as some sort of walking stick, but nobody can deny the fact that he was panting. A lot.

“I’ll be fine. There might be more of them coming.” He replies, fixing his gloves nonchalantly.

“That should’ve been the last of them. Come on, stop being so anxious!” You insist that the horde you and Diluc fought off just now was the last of them and pat the area beside you, gesturing for him to join you. He sighs and crouches down next to you, a weak attempt at complying with you.

“You should really take it easy, you know?” You sigh, glancing at the patches of black on the ground–a result of Diluc’s Pyro vision. “The last thing I’d want is you getting hurt ‘cause you want to help me take care of The Abyss.”

“There’s no need to worry about me.” He assures you, but his argument is beyond weak.

You roll your eyes. “Everytime you come back from one of your ‘trips,’ you manage to get hurt somehow.” You lean back, looking up at the sky.

“Speaking of…” You help yourself up using your sword. “You got hurt earlier, didn’t you?”

“It’s just a minor scratch—” Before he can finish his sentence, you cut him off.

Shushing him, you scold, “Shut it. I left some bandages in my bag back there. Just wait here.”

Making sure he understands that he needs to stay put, you venture into the previous area to rummage through your bag. It’s already midnight. Most citizens of Mondstadt are probably already all cozy in their homes by now, maybe with a few exceptions.

Jean is probably still in her office working. Kaeya’s probably in the tavern drinking again…and Diluc is still waiting for bandages. With that thought, you decide to walk a little faster to your abandoned bag.

Bandages in hand, you make it back to Diluc within a few minutes.

“Back,” You say from a couple meters away from him. “Let me see the wound.”

“Back so soon?” His eyes suddenly open; It seems that he was on the verge of falling asleep. You feel just a little bit guilty about interrupting him.

“Aw, did you want me to be away for longer?” You tease.

He doesn’t reply, but you notice a thin smile forming on his face.

“Just show me your wound.” You roll your eyes, gesturing for him to roll up his sleeves. He reluctantly does as he’s told.

“It really is just a scratch.” He sighs, looking away from you.

“Who cares? Just let me help you for once.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes as you finish wrapping his arm up. It may have just been a scratch this time, but he would’ve said the same about a hole in his stomach.

“Alright, there.” You finish wrapping the bandages around his arm, tying a tight knot to secure it.

Before you know it, it’s already the next day. Of course, it wasn’t daybreak yet, but the two of you should definitely head back.

“I have to return to the winery,” Diluc says, getting up from the patch of grass. “You’re heading back to the city, right?”

“Yeah, I have to wake up early tomorrow.” You sigh, picking at your skin. “Extra shift from my boss.” Right as you finish your sentence, you let out a yawn.

“You should go. At least get some rest before you go to work.”

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly? I’m hurt, Diluc.” You tease. “Nothing in return for bandaging you up?”

Diluc lets out a soft chuckle. “Alright, what do you want?”

Giving it some thought for a few seconds, but coming up with nothing, you joke.

“Mm, how about a kiss right here?” You chuckle, pointing to your cheek.

Honestly, maybe it was better you didn’t make jokes like that around Diluc. His sense of humor isn’t known to be the greatest. Because unlike Kaeya, who definitely would’ve flirted back, Diluc’s eyes widened and his face turned red. Incredibly red. And for a second, he looked like he seriously considered it.

You can’t help but laugh uncontrollably, “Did you actually think about it?”

Averting his gaze, he purses his lips.

“I’m just teasing, relax!” You sigh, a grin still plastered on your face.

“Do you want me to?” You look up at him, eyes widening slightly. You didn’t think he would say that. Diluc isn’t the type to joke around about this stuff. No, he would never.

Suddenly, he crouches down right in front of you. “I was joking! I…” You clear your throat, desperately looking away. You’re embarrassed. By Diluc, of all people.

He slides his hand onto your cheek, cupping them, and leans in slightly. You glance back at him and immediately look away again.

You bite your lips. “...If you want to, yeah.”

Instead of responding with a nod or a simple ‘okay,’ he cups your cheek with his hand. Despite wearing gloves, he could probably feel just how warm your cheeks were.

…

His lips were really soft. It was a kiss that lasted longer than either of you expected, but it’s not like you were complaining.

Your heart was on the verge of exploding as you walked home. You couldn’t even tell whether your body was burning because you were exhausted or if it was because you were flustered. It was probably both.

It was only then that you remembered: you told him to kiss your cheek.

[etoilesbienne]

Okay on the reset, there's multiple things going on here.

I think it's fair for the heavily active CC to be frustrated their personal stuff was sidelined and interrupted with the reset, I get it. All that progress stopped. I also have full faith in all of the active CC to be able to bounce back and be capable of return in their own way. I trust this of BadBoyHalo and Tubbo. Pierre might have different concerns, but he's been doing content for a decade, I think he'll be fine.

On the other hand, I think this server reset was kinda necessary. Especially from the perspective of more new players being added soon. Like, even Tubbo when added was struggling to find things to do at first because he'd suggest something, and then people would point out someone else already did that like two months prior. To quote a friend, if Tubbo was struggling to find things to do, what's left for players like Lenay?

Keep in mind, the last time the admins tried something to level the playing field between active players and inactive players was Lucky Ducks. Which killed a lot of motivation for members who did like grinding hard to obtain materials. Lucky Ducks was just giving them that stuff without any work. This reset is the last resort in my opinion.

The other thing that interests me is that Etoiles mentioned that he knew about this reset coming (or something similar) for at least three months now. This is odd with the perspective of Pierre and BBH both reacting so badly, like they didn't know this would be happening. Because of both of these scenarios, I think there are two things that could have happened: 1. Etoiles vouching for a reset meant he talked to the admins more one-on-one over this. 2. The admins mentioned a server reset, and never detailed what that would revolve around. I personally think the second is more likely, as QStudios are somewhat... notorious? For being a little nebulous and not the best at communication for all streamers at once.

Ultimately I do think the server reset was a good decision, it encourages playing for people who were never able to get their foot in the door, and hopefully will make the server more active in the future. I also think the incentivizing for players to be farther apart ala Karmaland while create is off for the first few days is a good idea too, we don't need another Roier chunk that lags the hell out of the server being so close to spawn.

I think there's other parts that are less than desirable because they work poorly in practice (disabling all backpacks above iron unless purchased via... the new money system. The new money system in general. Punishing players for doing a bunch of backpacks as a storage system as if that isn't a fair playstyle because it's literally just a bunch of blocks on hand, it makes things more convenient I truly do not get the weird punishing behavior about backpacks. Not telling the players the list of nerfs/changes beforehand. Come on, I would love a Tubbo changelog reading stream. He'd have so much fun doing that.), however overall I am willing to wait another week or two to see how the admin team responds and fixes changes as they see them be interacted with. It's been three days, and there were a hell of a lot of changes.